He didn’t seem to suffer the effects of the cold nearly as much as her. Then again, he hadn’t splashed in the river, either.
“G-g-go n-n-o-o-ow Jo-jo-jo—” Her stutter had worsened, and the chill might well have wrapped itself around her very bones.
“Ssh, don’t try to talk.” He bent her arms and tucked her fingers under her armpits. “Keep them there, all right?”
Joseph grabbed a handful of sticks from the back of the little cave and broke them into a pile of dry wood. Reaching in one pocket, he produced a little instrument that Rebekah hadn’t seen since Rumspringa. Had her mouth not been frozen into a stiff line, she would have smiled at the memory.
“Now, don’t tell anyone I have this.” He held the wire in one hand and with a quick succession of squeezes, the little rocks at the end of each piece of wire knocked together and produced a spark. Joseph held it down in the middle of the pile of kindling. A moment later, a humble flame appeared. He cocked his mouth into a half-smile. “Now I guess I know why I saved that little flint.”
He rubbed his hands up and down Rebekah’s arms and situated her closer to the fire. “If it gets low, can you feed it another stick?”
She nodded.
“Good girl. I’m going after your brother. I’ll be right back.” At the mouth of the little rock cave, he looked back.
I love you. If only her mouth would form the words.
Joseph flashed her that dazzling dimpled smile followed by a wink.
Then, he was gone.
***
Rebekah focused on the little flame that had grown into a modest fire. Her eyelids drooped, but she would focus on the fire.
It has to be going when the men get back. They’ll probably be frozen solid.
Slowly, she removed one hand from under her arm. The feeling was coming back, and her fingers hurt. Badly.
Rebekah ignored the stabbing sensation and tried to wrap her waxy fingers around another stick, but they wouldn’t bend. Using her hand like a club, she whacked the wood off the top of the stack.
The pain that shot through her fingers and up her arm was reminiscent of the one winter she’d made the mistake of hopping out of bed barefoot on the cold floor. She’d thought the knifelike stabbing sensations that had shot up her legs then were bad. This was worse.
As the fire caught hold of the new wood, Rebekah held her hands out to soak up as much of the warmth as possible. She whimpered and moaned as the feeling pulsed back into her fingers. Finally, she could bend them, and her mind also relaxed enough to form a coherent thought.
Please, God, protect Joseph and Peter—
Rebekah’s prayer was cut short when Joseph fell into the cave. His teeth chattered loudly, and his lips were tinged blue.
“Oh, Joseph, thank God. Come here.” She held her arms out to her frosty beau. “Did you find Peter?”
Before he could answer, her brother stumbled in. His hat was gone, and his eyes were wide. They showed more of the whites than the colored part. With blond locks frozen in jumbled swirls, Peter’s exposed flesh was red and angry. The whole of his hands and the tip of his nose looked as though they had been dipped in wax, much like Rebekah’s fingertips had.
Curling her fingers around three more hunks of wood, Rebekah stoked the fire until it roared in the little rock cavern.
“Th-th-that w-was cl-cl-clos-close.” Joseph’s words were ragged.
Rebekah stripped his stiff coat off and tossed it beside the fire. “Here, let’s get you warm.”
He patted her arm with awkward, frozen thumps. “M-melt the s-snow in the t-t-tub for P-P-Peter.”
Some of the snow in the tub had already melted, but not all of it. Rebekah slid it as close to the fire as she could without placing it directly in the flames.
His hands shaking, Joseph hurried over next to Peter. “H-hands in the t-tub.”
“No.” It was obvious Peter wanted nothing to do with Joseph and would certainly not accept help from him.
“Then sit by the f-f-fire, at l-least,” Joseph managed.
Pulling his frozen duster over his shoulder, Peter turned to face the mouth of the cave. Rebekah watched his back tremble and shake—he had to be frozen near solid. Foolishly, he refused to accept help.
“Joseph,” Rebekah whispered. “Come.”
He scooted back to her side.
“Are you all right? How did you find him? We are down to about half of our firewood…” She let her voice trail off as she realized Joseph didn’t heed any of her questions or concerns. Instead, he simply stared at her as though seeing her for the first time. The ghost of a smile haunted his lips as he rubbed his hands together near the warmth of the flames. Then again, perhaps it was she who saw him through new eyes.
The spark that passed between them, the freshly proven knowledge that one would always be there for the other, surged through her. In that instant, Rebekah envisioned herself flinging off her covering and running through the woods, the wind in her face and hair blowing free, with only Joseph’s hand to guide her. The vision faded to the pair of them kneeling together in their home on a sleepy summer morning, quietly speaking to the Lord together.
In an uncharacteristically bold act, she reached across the small expanse between then and rested her hand on his. Turning his over, he linked his icy fingers through her warm ones, palm to palm.
“I can’t feel my hands or feet,” Peter announced, mostly to himself.
On instant alert, Rebekah released Joseph’s hand and crawled to her brother’s side. “Come, let us help you.”
He shot her a haughty glare. “Why would you want to help me?”
“Because you’re my brother.” She tugged on his duster sleeve. “Now please, come.”
Peter allowed Rebekah to pull him to the washtub. “I’m not sticking my hands in there.”
She glanced at Joseph, who nodded. “You will if you want to keep your fingers and hands.”
Joseph helped Rebekah push up Peter’s stiff duster sleeves. “Rebekah’s right, here. Don’t you worry now.”
Slowly, they pressed Peter’s hands into the water.
“No!”
The man’s face contorted in planes that Rebekah had never seen on another’s face before. His eyebrows furrowed so closely together, she feared he might rightly explode. With his mouth twisted into a grotesque shape, she could see his teeth fairly well.
“You have the same tooth as I do,” she observed absently. Joseph leaned to look.
“She’s right.” Sure enough, both Peter and Rebekah’s right front tooth overlapped the left a little.
Peter’s face softened. “I think I’m going to be sick,” he managed when he finally maneuvered his mouth back to its regular shape.
Joseph nodded. “We need to warm your nose up, too.”
