Joseph placed a hand on both boys’ shoulders. His singsong voice was lullaby low as he led them back to their beds.
“Go on back to sleep and dream of all the surprises tomorrow has in store for you.”
Rebekah winced at the word surprise, which was not the optimal way to lure little eight-year-old brothers back to bed.
Abram and Isaac rubbed their eyes. “Surprises?”
Joseph didn’t falter over his poor choice of words. “Each day is a gift from the Lord. So, it stands to reason that within each gift, there is a surprise.”
The boys looked first at each other, then at Joseph. “Really?”
Rebekah shook her head as the trio disappeared into the bedroom. Beanie squirmed in her arms and coughed. Obviously hungry, he began to sputter and fuss. She bounced him up and down.
Joseph emerged a moment later. He wiped make-believe sweat from his brow. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said surprise.”
“How’d you get them to go sleep?” She held the bundle of boy toward Joseph. He held him expertly in one arm and extended the other to her.
Rebekah took it and pulled herself to her feet. She tested the weight on her bad foot. Pins pricked up her leg and she grunted.
“Well,” he started, “I simply explained that in each day, or each gift from the Lord, is a surprise. It’s up to us to find our own special surprise from Him each day.”
His eyes shone like onyx as he stared into her face. In his haste to be of assistance, he’d lost his hat. Locks of ebony hair stuck out in all directions and a few were plastered to his forehead. Rebekah’s stomach lightened with the beats of butterfly wings. Silvery moon rays streamed through the hall window and illuminated their linked arms.
For one moment, one brief, illogical moment, Rebekah allowed herself to pretend that Joseph was telling her how he’d gotten their own sons to sleep, not her little brothers. Deep, inner warmth pulsed through her body with each quickening heartbeat.
“What a sweet little man. Beanie you said?” He stroked the infant’s fuzzy cheek. Beanie turned and began to root towards Joseph’s finger.
Joseph smiled and clucked softly.
“Short for Benjamin,” she affirmed. “I guess I’ll have to wash my quilt swatch now before I can finish it. Too bad.”
They shared a soft giggle.
“He looks to be a pretty big boy. How long is he?”
Rebekah looked at the infant, still safe and snug within Joseph’s arm. “I figure about twenty-two or twenty-three inches. Pa will measure him tomorrow against the rope, just as he has done all the others. Then, he will mark it in the kitchen.”
Joseph hefted him in his arm. “He certainly isn’t a light baby.”
A voice from the darkness interrupted their musings. “Here, let me hold my son.” Samuel’s gentle voice was misty and melodic.
“Oh, ja.” Samuel took the child from Joseph. “You weigh more than a ten-pound sack of taters!” His face glowed in the way only a father’s could. “I will weigh you in the morning. But you are probably hungry now.” He nuzzled the baby, who promptly screeched.
“Thank you, Rebekah,” he said as he turned toward his bedroom. “Your Ma is all right, and the baby is all right. All because of you.”
She flushed at her father’s direct compliment.
“You were an instrument of God’s healing tonight, daughter.”
Joseph’s soft voice deepened her blush. “A true angel.”
“Tell Ma I love her,” Rebekah whispered. “And I love you, Pa.”
Samuel sniffed. “I am a blessed man. Goodnight, Rebekah. Goodnight, Joseph.”
When he reached the doorway, he turned again.
“Joseph, do tell the others I won’t be back down tonight, but I appreciate their help and I thank God for them. I trust you’ll go down to join them soon.” Samuel smiled.
Joseph ducked his head. “Yes, sir.”
After Samuel retreated to his bedroom, Joseph helped Rebekah back to bed.
“You did a pretty special thing tonight,” he whispered as he tucked the cornflower blue quilt in around her.
“Beanie is a pretty special baby.” Sleep pulled mercilessly at her eyelids despite his enchanting presence. The cool breeze that fluttered her curtains blew away the tense emotions and excitement. Relaxation consumed her.
“He sure was red,” he remembered. “But he wasn’t no baby.”
She struggled to make sense of his sleep-garbled words. “Huh?”
“At that size, he was a hookin’ bull!”
A smile formed on her lips as she gave in to the temptation of sleep. “Beanie Bull,” she whispered as her mind danced with the idea of Joseph singing their children to sleep someday.
Chapter Seven
Beanie Bull’s shrill squall met Rebekah’s sleepy ears. When she was finally able to force her eyelids open, her room was fuzzy and bright. Pushing herself up in the bed, her heart pounded in time with the baby’s urgent cries. As quickly as he began, he quieted.
As the surge of adrenaline ebbed within her, slowing her heartbeat in the sudden quiet, her muscles relaxed.
She rubbed her eyes. “Ma must be feeding him.”
A smell that wafted upstairs, though not entirely pleasant, made her lick her lips. Her stomach rumbled.
Rebekah flung the covers back and pushed herself to the side of the bed. She looked at her bruised foot and eased it down onto sunshine-warmed floor.
“It’s actually bearable,” she said aloud to an absent audience.
She lifted her gown and looked closer. The purple mottling had faded overnight and revealed her own skin color where yesterday, it had been only a mess of green and black. A dark outline was all that remained.
Although her tiny toe wasn’t swollen, the nail was solid black. It seemed a little loose, like it might fall off if touched. She wrinkled her nose.
Rebekah grasped the bed frame for support and stood. After a brief rush of tingles from her bad foot, she let go.
“I might not fall.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot. Uncomfortable, but not painful.
She gave her doorframe a wide berth and shuffled to her parent’s room.
