Rebekah interrupted him gently. “Maybe we can talk about it later when it is just the two of us. We have so much to be grateful for today, let us not spoil on it…” She paused. “On Stinky matters.” A giggle escaped before she could help it.
“That sounds good, fraa,” Joseph said, his voice sweet.
Chapter Thirteen
The four of them walked slowly down the path that led to the Stoll homestead. Thomas skipped ahead, as always, and Rebekah scanned the countryside but kept her pace slow to walk beside Joseph.
“Legs are pretty tender,” he said. “I apologize for not being able to go faster.”
“I am grateful you are here. The speed is no matter to me.”
“Did you lose something? Along the side of the trail, I mean.”
“Hmm?” Rebekah paused in her scanning and looked at Joseph.
“It looks as though you lost something.”
Careful to make sure Thomas was out of earshot, Rebekah spoke quietly. “Pa was usually at the house by now. He left rather late last night; I am looking for any sign of him not having made it home.”
Having said this out loud brought a fresh round of fear to Rebekah and awoke the butterflies that had settled in her stomach. They took flight at once.
“Oh Joseph, I fear he did not make it home. It was no doubt dark when he made it to this part of the trail, and he has been so sick…”
With a grunt, Joseph lengthened his strides. If he hurt, it did not show. “Then we must find him. Thomas,” he called. “We are on the lookout for your fater. First to spot your fater wins!”
“Then I will win because I am in front of you two!” He dashed even further ahead, up to the top of a little knoll. He turned to them and waved his arms. “I can see clear to Montgomery from here!”
He turned around slowly, one hand over his eyes as though to shield them from the rising sun. “Looking…looking…looking…”
Thomas was still looking, as he put it, when Rebekah and Joseph caught up to him.
“There!” Thomas and Rebekah shouted in unison. “There he is!”
Sure enough, over the next hill, Samuel was walking toward them.
“That is him, all right,” Joseph said. “I helped you make that shirt for him for Christmas last year.” Joseph smiled and waved his arms over his head. “Samuel. Samuel!”
“Pa!” Rebekah, flooded with relief, called out. Dawson echoed her sentiment with a leg-flinging, happy screech. She exhaled the breath that she had held heavy in her chest since before dawn. Pa. “He was just running a bit later than usual is all.”
“Hello, Fater,” Thomas cried out.
Samuel raised his face to them, but a sudden ray of sun blotted it out. He waved his arm over his head as he walked down the little hill toward them and disappeared into the dip of a little valley.
“Must be coming for good company and hot coffee,” Joseph mused aloud.
Rebekah gave her husband a quizzical look. “What an odd thing to say,” she began. “That is what Pa always said. Had you heard him say that while you were sick?”
Joseph shrugged. “I do not know. It just popped into my mind.”
Hmmm. She shook off the strange feeling that cloaked her with Joseph’s words and the butterflies, which had stilled their flapping wings, sprang to life once again. She tried to ignore it.
“Come on,” Joseph said. “Let’s go down the trail and meet him in the little valley before he comes up this side.
All smiles, the trio and the bopplin started down the trail to meet Samuel and all breathe a collective sigh of relief at his presence, something the lot of them feared they may never experience again.
As they trotted down the little hill, they slowed in tandem as a figure approached them. Rebekah’s face fell at once. “Fogarty? Is that you?”
Joseph whispered so that only she could hear. “It was Samuel. I recognized the shirt. Now, the shirt is not right at all.”
A knot settled in Rebekah’s throat and threatened to strangle her.
Consternation had furrowed Fogarty’s brows and his eyes were red and wide. “Thomas, Rebekah, Joseph. Oh, Joseph, praise God that you are up and around.” He did not pause to breathe. “I need you to come with me now to your parents’ house.”
“I thought you were my fater,” Rebekah said cautiously.
“Actually, we all thought you were Samuel…” Joseph’s voice was equally cautious.
Fogarty huffed and patted his brow with a hanky he produced from his front pocket. His rotund face was cherry red in the early morning light and beads of sweat the size of peas pockmarked his forehead. “Thomas, Rebekah. I have disturbing news. Samuel became deathly ill in the night. As of this morning, he has passed from this earth.”
Rebekah felt as though she fairly floated to her childhood home, in a way that her soul was just outside of her body. For a brief moment, she may have wished it was, just to be with her father one more brief moment, but she shook the thought all the way off. Oh, Fater.
“What did it?” Joseph asked matter-of-factly.
That was one thing about Joseph. When the times grew hard, he grew stoic, no matter what. Answers and pragmaticism. That was Joseph under pressure.
“What took Samuel’s life?”
Fogarty dabbed his face with the hankey as they walked. “It was as I expected. What I said before, about his blood clotting in the wrong places. Do you recall, I said before that it would happen again? And perhaps again and again, until it ultimately won?”
“I remember,” Rebekah whispered. Still, his words chilled the very air around them. Her fater had been fighting an invisible battle within himself for quite some time. Tears burned in the back of her throat. If I had known, I would have been able to help. Maybe. Or maybe not. It mattered not now. A surge of helpless emotion tightened her throat. She grasped Joseph’s hand.
“I remember, too,” Joseph said.
Fogarty dabbed his face again. He seemed to be just as shaken up over this turn of events as they were. “It happened. He passed just this morning, according to your mother. He was getting up to come see you for…”
“Hot coffee and good company,” Rebekah and Joseph said in unison before looking strangely at each other.
“Yes, that is it exactly.” Fogarty shook his head. “I will never forget those words.”
Neither will I.
“Your mother,” Fogarty said, “walked out to get his hat and coat, which was apparently nothing out of the ordinary. While she was out of the room, she could hear him talking. To someone named Abram, apparently.”
Rebekah’s blood turned to ice.
His brother. His dead brother.
“When she returned,” Fogarty said, “she found him. He had passed in her absence. I happened to be stopping by to check his progress before heading to your place to check on Joseph.” He sniffled. “So, I offered to fetch you.”
