What if he’s moved on? Or decided his feelings weren’t as true as he’d hoped?
With expert hands, Rebekah mixed the ingredients for her favorite cake. She’d made this particular recipe so often that she knew the measurements by heart and could pour them precisely by hand without the aid of a measuring device.
“Put yours in to bake first, Rebekah.” Elnora set the plate of cinnamon rolls on the counter. “I’ll mix the icing for these in the meantime.”
Rebekah slid the pan into the oven. “Thank you, Ma. I’ll go change and be right back.”
Taking the stairs two at a time, Rebekah’s heart galloped in her chest as she rummaged through her sparse selection of dresses.
Hurry, Rebekah. Hurry and go promise your love to Joseph.
She chose a plain black dress and tossed her slightly grubby green one against the wall. Once dressed, she fastened the matching cape about her shoulders. “I’d better get a fresh covering, too.”
With a gentle fling, her dingy covering joined her dirty dress on the floor. Rebekah gathered her dirty clothing and made a run through each of the rooms, adding dirty clothes to her pile. A covering lay on the bed in her parent’s room and a pair of britches had been shoved into the far corner in the older boys’ room. Then, in the little boys’ room, she hit the mother lode. Socks were scattered beneath the beds and shirts were wadded under the covers.
Rebekah let the grin grow until she felt the ache in her cheeks. “I love you, boys.”
She gathered the little articles and stacked them on her arm. Outside her quilting room, she dropped the laundry into the large, metal washtub that sat in the cubby.
Rebekah dashed down the stairs and was met with the intoxicating scent of baking cinnamon from the kitchen.
“Just in time.” Elnora pulled the fluffy cake from the oven. “Now, in go my cinnamon rolls.”
“Thank you, Ma.” Rebekah stepped to admire her cake.
Joseph doesn’t care much for frosting, so I’ll leave it dry. I like it better that way, too.
Her mother held out a square of cheesecloth. “Won’t you take it to him now?” Her eyes sparkled beneath her black covering. “The sooner the better, I always say.”
Butterflies flitted in her stomach as she accepted the cheesecloth and draped it over the cake. “Oh, Ma, it’s still too warm to carry.”
Elnora pulled open the drawer. “Here.” She extended two thick pads to her. “I made these after your father burnt the other ones by leaving them on the stove.”
She could almost hear her heartbeat in her ears as she accepted them. Scooping up her cake, she stepped out the door Elnora already held open. “God’s will be done, child,” she whispered. “Gelassenheit.”
***
The trek to the Grabers’ homestead took much longer than she remembered. Then again, she didn’t make the journey much because it seemed Joseph always came to her.
I wonder if he was this nervous when he came to pick me up for the festival. No wonder he looked so out of sorts when he arrived.
Things were so much clearer now. Rebekah wished she could have accepted the truth of her past without having to put everyone she loved through all this rigmarole.
Finally, the Graber homestead came into view. A quietness hung over the place that Rebekah could almost feel. She shuddered. That certainly wasn’t a familiar feeling.
Taking each step carefully so as not to damage her cake, Rebekah was surprised when the front door opened before she even knocked.
Lucas stood there, his lips drawn into a thin line. His wide blue eyes, the ones that always seem to be dancing with some untold joke or josh, were subdued. “Hallo, Rebekah.”
She bit her lower lip. “Hallo, Mr. Graber. Is Joseph here?”
Lucas shook his head infinitesimally. “He came by for a moment and told us about Peter. Then he left. I’ve not seen my boy since.”
He folded his arms and leaned against the doorway.
A hot knot rose into Rebekah’s throat. It seemed hard to breathe. Heat crept into her cheeks and the fluffy cake suddenly seemed awkward and unnecessary.
“Can I, um, may I, leave this for when he gets—er, for when Joseph gets…comes home?” She couldn’t meet Mr. Graber’s eyes.
“Sure.”
“Thank you.”
Mr. Graber nodded as he took it from her without fanfare.
An odd feeling of being unwelcome pushed Rebekah down the stairs and out onto the path. She turned and started toward home but turned back. With her mouth open as if to speak, she stared back at Mr. Graber.
Her cake now sat at his feet. Still, he leaned against the doorframe on his porch. He nodded.
She closed her mouth and began the long walk home.
Chapter Eleven
Rebekah clutched her cape around her as she ascended the stairs onto her front porch. The wind had turned chilly and fluffy white clouds that had bloomed in the east grew dark.
Elnora and Sarah Wagler were visiting in the sitting room when she walked in.
Sarah rose and strode across the floor, her arms wide. Rebekah hugged her.
Sarah pulled back and held her at arm’s length. “We’ve decided to have a Bible study here this Wednesday. Your Ma and I decided everyone could bring a dish and we could make an evening of it. Will you make one of your delicious cinnamon cakes?”
She nodded. “I would be honored, thank you.”
“Good.” With a hearty pat on the arm, Sarah retreated to her seat. “Now, Elnora, we have lots of planning to do.”
The old friends huddled together, their companionship easy and natural, as Beanie squeaked from the cradle.
Too antsy to sit still or be cooped in the house, Rebekah climbed the stairs.
What to do? What to do?
Her room was tidy, her quilt was finished, and she wasn’t keen to start another yet. Worried thoughts of Joseph flitted about in her mind like moths around a lantern, but she forced them back.
He’s fine. Maybe he needed to go off alone like I did.
Rebekah spied the glinting tub of dirty laundry at the end of the hall and skipped to retrieve it. The large bar of lye soap lay on its special shelf, right above the bucket. She plucked it up and dropped it onto the clothes.
“I’m running to the river to get this laundry done, Ma!” Rebekah called as she skipped out the back door.
