She fell to her knees beside him. Before she could turn him over, a tiny voice in the back of her head gave her pause.
Do not move him! Check his head and his neck before you make him worse!
She could not be certain, but the voice sounded strangely like Katie Knepp’s Her childhood nemesis had married her brother and become her sister-in-law. She also worked in a medical clinic in Old Amarillo, so as much as Rebekah hated to admit it, Katie would know best about these matters.
Rebekah shook her head to clear Katie’s voice from her mind, her black covering strings flouncing wildly about. She touched her husband’s shoulder gently. “Joseph? Can you hear me?”
No answer. Not even a groan.
“Joseph? Oh, please God, no.”
Carefully, Rebekah lay one shaky hand on Joseph’s chest and waited. Hand, do not shake. We need to see if Joseph is breathing, and I cannot tell if you are shaking—
Her hand rose and fell with the shallow rising of Joseph’s chest.
Thank you, God, he is alive.
“What happened to you?” Rebekah asked, mostly to herself. Ever slow, she turned him toward her. She was not prepared for what she saw.
Joseph’s handsome face; the one belonging to her childhood crush, her best friend, her protector, her husband; was unrecognizable. Blood had soaked his face so thoroughly; she could not be certain that he had a face left at all.
“Rebekah, the bopplin is still asleep. I got that clean quilt with no glass on it and put him in the kitchen. He is perfectly—”
Without warning, Thomas appeared behind her.
“Thomas, please do not look.” Rebekah attempted to shield Joseph’s injury from her little brother.
“I already did, Sissy.” Thomas laid a hand on her shoulder. “And I know that this is bad.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
Thomas kept his voice quiet. “Well, have you figured out what is wrong yet so you can tell me what to do?”
She glanced up at her little brudder, suddenly supremely grateful for his sudden appearance. “You are right. First things first. We need to find out where all this blood is coming from.”
“Here.” Thomas sat down and commenced to remove his shoe.
“Thomas?” Rebekah stared at her little brudder. “Whatever are you doing?”
“Trust me.” He peeled off his sock. “It is still wet from jumping in puddles earlier. And from just a little sweat, too.”
He handed the soggy sock to Rebekah, who took it with a tiny smile.
She touched the sock to Joseph’s cheek and began to wipe away the blood. “I know how much this will mean to Joseph when we tell him someday, that we cleaned his face with your wet, dirty sock.”
Thomas ignored the jest. “Look, Sissy.” Thomas peered intently. “Clean there. On his forehead.” Thomas reached over and touched Joseph’s forehead. He jerked his hand back as though he had been bitten by a snake.
“What’s wrong?”
Thomas’s face, normally pink beneath his freckles, suddenly went stark white as the blood drained from his cheeks. “Oh no, Sissy. That is not right. Joseph’s forehead feels…” Thomas hiccupped. “Mushy.”
Rebekah forced a swallow. “Thomas, would you go see to Pepper, please? He is probably spooked from the storm.”
“Jah. I will.”
With Thomas gone, Rebekah steeled her jaw and continued to clean the blood from her husband’s mangled face. “Oh Joseph, what happened to you?”
“Sissy! Come quick!”
Rebekah kept her eyes on Joseph, careful to be gentle in her cleaning. “I cannot right now. What is it?”
“Pepper’s back hoof.”
Rebekah finished cleaning one side of Joseph’s face and started on the other. “What about it?”
“It is bloody.” Thomas’s voice sounded meek. “I think Pepper kicked Joseph.”
Rebekah closed her eyes. When she was a girl, Johann Schmaltz, one of their neighbors had been horse-kicked in the head. She remembered her mother, Elnora, working alongside Mrs. Schmaltz to try and save his life. Mr. Schmaltz suffered shaking spells before vomiting through the night. When the morning’s light came, they discovered he had died sometime in the night. Rebekah had waited for her mother outside the bedroom door, having made herself a little pallet on the floor. Mrs. Schmaltz’s scream when they discovered that her husband had passed haunted Rebekah for many, many nights afterward.
It was still there, somewhere, in the back of her mind, and she heard it as she cleaned her unconscious husband. She tried to disremember it. You have to remain positive. No matter what.
“Thomas?”
“Yes?”
