Rebekah’s eyes glistened with moisture. “Blessings from God, they really do come in the strangest ways,” she echoed.
“From the greatest tragedies,” Samuel said again as he plucked up a happy bopplin, “come the greatest blessings. Your fater is living proof of that.”
“Could you stay for just one cup of coffee, Fater?” For some reason, Rebekah did not want to see her father go. She wanted him to stay.
“I suppose one cup would not hurt.” He bounced Dawson in his arms. “Come on. You can walk your grossdaddi back into the kitchen. Pretty soon, you will be carrying me!”
***
Samuel set his coffee cup in the sink and handed Dawson back to Rebekah. “Well, dochder, I had better be going. You slept away most of the day, and that is gut, but now it’s time for me to go home and see your Mater.”
A wave of nostalgia swept over her, but she could not be quite sure as to why. “I apologize for sleeping most of the day and napping for the rest of it. I feel like I missed out on an entire day with you.”
Samuel shook his head. “No, do not be sorry. You needed it so. And the bopplin and I had a grand time.”
Rebekah forced a smile.
Why must I force it?
“I am saddened to see you go, Fater.”
Samuel donned his black felt hat. “Do not be saddened. After all, we part only to meet again, do we not?”
“I suppose so.” She tightened her grip on the bopplin as emotion clinched her throat. “I cannot wait to see you again tomorrow, Fater. Your being here has been the biggest blessing.”
Like manna from heaven.
“I agree, Dochder.” He strode across the room and pulled her into a tight hug. Dawson squealed, then punctuated it with a laugh. “These days have been the biggest gift. And they have showed me something I needed a reminder of. That I am by far the richest man in Gasthof Village.”
Tears sprang to Rebekah’s eyes. She squeezed her father tighter. I do not want to ever let him go. He is my past, all my fun memories, all my happiness. He is my fater.
“Do not fret, Dochder.” He pulled away slowly. “I will see you in the morning, bright and early…”
Rebekah joined him for the last bit.
“For hot coffee and good company,” they said in tandem.
She watched as he walked out her front door and down the stairs into the falling darkness. Without warning, her heart panged in her chest. For once, even Dawson was quiet. “Do not worry bopplin,” she whispered, though she was not sure if she was whispering for his sake or her own. “He will be back tomorrow.”
Chapter Twelve
Rebekah waited anxiously at the door for her fater. The sun was due to peek over the horizon any time, and with those first rays of light, Samuel should appear, too, just as he had every day since Joseph had fallen ill. Today, Joseph had yet to wake up and looked markedly worse. She could not discern why he looked worse; it was simply an overall appearance of him. Despite all the progress he had made, something in him had taken a turn so abrupt that it chilled her to look at him.
Rebekah wanted Joseph to heal. She wanted her mann to continue to improve, to get up out of their bed and take her in his arms and tell her he loved her, that he loved her enough to get well. She wanted to see him hold Dawson, the way he had only moments before he was kicked by the horse, and she wanted to watch Joseph mold their sohn into the wonderful man she knew God had made him to be.
She glanced at her bopplin, who tried so hard to come into the world and even harder to survive once he was here.
Is he destined to grow up without a fater? Will he even remember Joseph, should Joseph pass?
God, do Your Divine Will in my life. But please see fit to help me accept it, whatever it may be. The prayer swirled in her mind like the tornado had swirled over the Indiana farmland.
Dawson was asleep on a pallet of quilts there in the living room, sleeping the sound sleep of babes.
She thought about Thomas, with his kind and gentle heart, who took care of all things that needed taking care of from kittens to orphaned skunks and raccoons. He loved Joseph, and Joseph had declared Thomas his honorary helper in all things that needed helping with. And not surprisingly, Thomas had risen to the challenge.
God, how will Joseph’s passing—if that is what will happen today—affect Thomas?With Fater mostly sickly, who will raise Thomas into the young man he should be?
Rebekah retracted her thought. Fater has been doing remarkably better in the past few days since he has been coming to the house to help and visit. Perhaps it is time to shift all my worries over to Joseph since Pa seems so well.
Thomas. Rebekah smiled as she thought about her precious little brother. He was her best friend, no doubt about it, and she was certainly his.
I suppose between Pa and me, if things do not go well for Joseph, we can handle the raising of Thomas into a good, God-loving young man.
Thomas had not yet come in from the barn. He reminded Rebekah of a wild boy, happily free, like some of the stories of faraway tribesman that Katie had regaled to her, after spending so much of her Rumspringa with the world-traveler Nellie Bly.
She wondered briefly if his little animals, which had taken to keeping him up all night being the nocturnal creatures that they were born to be, were beginning to wind down and make their little nests in the straw. It was not until they were asleep that Thomas was able to sleep, which made Rebekah giggle a little.
“Welcome to parenthood, Thomas,” she whispered to the quiet room. “You are going to be a wonderful fater someday.” She thought for a moment about how needy the little orphaned bopplins were. Needy for feedings, needy for cuddling, needy for safety. Thomas was providing all those things for them without any complaint. “Well, I suppose you already are.”
Rebekah’s heart quickened to a gallop as the sun’s rays peeked over the edge of the horizon. Fater should be here by now. She glanced at Dawson again, still snuggled down on his quilts, then stepped out onto the porch. Perhaps I should walk out a little way and make sure he is okay. What if he fell on the trail over, or had another attack?
Rebekah started down the steps.
A strange sound from behind her gave her pause. An icy wave washed down her back and she felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck as time froze.
Her stomach turned up in knots as she turned around, in painfully slow movements. Was it a footstep? A creak of a door?
When she turned around, nothing was there.
