A surge of guilt flashed through her. How can I jest while Pa is sick? The guilt fizzled. Why not jest? If Thomas’s news is as bad as it sounds, this may be the last time we smile for quite some time.
Her younger brother with the freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose clasped his wide-brimmed straw hat down on his head with both hands and squinted through the rain. “Which puddle, Sissy?”
Rebekah’s blonde hair whipped across her face. “The big one, there by the horse corral.”
“It looks deep!”
Thomas flashed his gap-toothed grin and took off with a shriek toward the puddle. Sure enough, he cleared it easily.
“Look Sissy, I made it!” His voice was filled with equal parts excitement and surprise. “I cannot believe it, but I made it!”
When Thomas got himself sorted on the far side of the puddle, he turned and gestured to her with a mischievous smirk. “Your turn!”
Rebekah, not one to turn down a dare, swiped her sopping hair out of her eyes and squinted. The puddle had already grown considerably. She started toward the puddle, toward a triumphant victory over her favorite little brother. The moment her bare toes touched the pooling water, she leaped through the curtain of rain.
I’ve won! I cannot wait to...
When she landed in the soft mud on the far side of the puddle, she knew something was wrong. One foot slipped in one direction while the other slid in the other. She skidded in such a way that she banged her shoulder into the split rail fence, before falling hard against the corral gate. The lever snapped off and she tumbled into the muck of the corral.
“Rebekah? Rebekah!”
Joseph was at her side in a moment, just as another crash of thunder sounded mightily as a flash of lightning zapped the ground not too terribly far away. Before anyone could utter a word, a cascade of rainfall blinded them all.
“Come on!” Joseph yanked her to her feet. Her arm popped, but she said nothing. “Thomas,” Joseph ordered, “try and close the gate before the horse gets out!” His voice was charged with something that sounded like fear.
Rebekah allowed herself to be pulled into the safety of their home, with Thomas close behind. Another bolt of lightning struck the ground not far from where she had landed, just moments before. This, coupled with the memory of the barn fire caused by a freak lightning strike that had almost taken her life just a few years ago, caused Rebekah’s stomach to turn up in knots.
“My, that was close,” Thomas, a supremely muddy mess, said.
“Too close,” Rebekah said. She was an even muddier mess than her little brother, who lived for muddy messes.
Dawson began to cough, the precursor to his serious cry, from his baby basket. Joseph stepped over and plucked him up. In the safety of his fater’s arms, Dawson shushed his whimpers.
“There now,” Joseph cooed. “There now. You are safe. You are loved.” He danced from foot to foot, lost in his own little world as he swayed with baby Dawson.
Rebekah shared a look with Thomas. They giggled quietly. “Come little brudder, let us go to the mudroom and rinse off a bit.”
Thomas, still smiling, nodded. Suddenly, his happy countenance melted away. “Oh, how is your shoulder, schweister? That fall really looked…” He searched for just the right word. Finally, he settled on the best one he could call to mind. “Bad.”
Rebekah tousled his wet hair as they tip-toed through the house to the safety of the mudroom.
Joseph had fixed their mudroom in a very clever fashion. Attached to the back entryway of the house, like all the other mudrooms in Gasthof Village, it boasted three hooks on one side for hanging hats and three hooks on the opposite side for hanging coats. There was also a bench for taking a rest or changing footwear, along with a cubby for storing shoes. But what made their mudroom special was what Joseph had formulated for water.
He devised a cistern to catch rainwater from outside because, as he explained it to her, whenever it is raining, we are going to come in with muddy shoes. That will be when we need to rinse off, lest we muddy the entire house. On the dry days, it will not be so much needed.
And his logic, as usual, made sense.
On the side of the cistern was a little trap door that led into the house. When someone pulled the lever, water flowed in, down a spigot, and into a waiting metal tub.
It was a very ingenious little room, and Rebekah was grateful on many rainy days, that she had such a clever mann.
“I do not know if there is enough water in the cistern to clean us off,” Thomas giggled.
Rebekah pulled the little lever. Water flowed like music into the metal tub. It reminded her of a waterfall. “Tell me about Fater.”
Thomas’s face, moments before shining and happy, darkened. “Mater says she is worried. And Mater never worries.” He rolled up his muddy pant legs. “I am worried, too.”
Rebekah dipped her fingers in the icy rainwater bath and flicked the droplets on his bare leg. He giggled. “We should get cleaned up. Once this storm passes, we will go see Mater and Fater together.”
That seemed to appease Thomas. He swished his feet in the water and watched as the mud swirled away. “I know maters sometimes worry. But when a schweister worries, it is important.”
He looked up at her through his eyelashes with his big, round eyes. Thomas had the longest eyelashes of all the Stoll children, and they tended to punctuate his emotions perfectly. Today was no exception.
“So, you would tell me if you were worried?” He paused a moment. “Right?”
“I suppose I could not hide it from the boy with the longest eyelashes in the territory.”
“You did not answer me.” Thomas stared at her without blinking. “Are you worried?”
She looked into the clear, innocent eyes of her favorite little brother. She should not lie to him but telling him the truth could make him worry needlessly over something he has no more control over than he has of the weather.
“How about this. We will go check on Ma and Pa here in a little while, then I will decide if we need to be worried or not.”
He looked thoughtful.
Rebekah smiled and tousled his hair. “Then, if we need to worry, I will make sure that you are the first to know.”
Finally, he smiled. Rebekah watched as an invisible weight seemed to lift off his shoulders.
