“Really. I have never kept anything from you, Rebekah, and I never will.”
She sighed. “What am I supposed to do now?”
Joseph folded his lanky frame into the straw beside her. “Are you asking me or Buttermilk?”
Her heart was too heavy to smile at his gentle joke. “You.”
He picked up a long stick of straw and commenced doodling in the dirt. “Well, since you asked, I’ll tell you. First thing you need to do is talk to God. Then, you need to apologize to your parents for the way you treated them. After that, talk to your brothers, especially Thomas. They love you so and are innocent in all of this.”
Content with his speech, Joseph dropped the straw.
Rebekah couldn’t fathom an answer. The emptiness was too much. She simply watched the dust motes drift their twirly dance in the bright sunrays in the barn’s door. “Can we go for a walk?”
Joseph stood and offered her his hand. “Of course. You should tell your parents we are going, though. No doubt they’re worried.”
Lacing her fingers together, she stared at them. “Perhaps you could tell them for me?”
He nodded and turned toward the house. Her house. Where she’d lived, made memories, made mistakes, and been loved. Her house, where she’d delivered the newest Stoll baby. Where she’d prayed, quilted, and worshipped. Fresh feelings of stabbing pain filled her chest. With her eyes closed, Rebekah started toward the lake.
A moment later, Joseph caught up. It didn’t take long with his lengthy strides in comparison to her shorter, unfocused ones. “Your parents send a message. They asked me to tell you that when you’re ready to talk, they’ll be there.”
She turned her face up to him. “Thank you. I will, when I have the right words.”
He nodded. There was no evidence of any sort of smile on his handsome face. “They also said to tell you that they love you. And that the decision to go back and live English or stay here with us is yours and yours alone. They’ll respect it, either way.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets.
Even if his hand had brushed hers, as it had last night, she wouldn’t have felt up to holding it anyway. She eased herself down on the bank and hugged her knees to her chest.
Before long, the honey-like scent of the tulip tree, the one he’d used to carve their fishing poles, filled the air.
That seems like a lifetime ago now.
A couple of birds chittered back and forth in perfect singsong time, but Rebekah didn’t try to pick out what kind they were. Her heart was simply too heavy.
“Rebekah, there is something—” Joseph fidgeted in his pockets and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “We were about to speak of it last night when Peter came, but I really feel I need to say it now, if you’ll let me.”
She stared out over the glistening water. A fish jumped and sent a splashing ripple across the lake. “Okay, Joseph.”
None of the enthusiasm from the previous night could be found in her words.
His gaze burned on the exposed skin of her neck as he sat carefully beside her. Still, she didn’t meet his eyes. “I have feelings for you, Rebekah. You and only you.”
Rebekah’s heart thudded in her chest. She wanted to be excited to hear these words from the lips of the man who’d stolen her heart so long ago, but there was too much new information to process to even allow the moment to be enjoyable. Tears pricked her eyes as Joseph proceeded to unburden his heart of all the right words at the completely wrong time.
“The more I’ve prayed about them—and about you—the stronger these feelings have grown.” Still, his stare burned on her skin.
He is willing me to look up.
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
“They’ve been building for years, Rebekah.” Slowly, he placed his hand on hers.
Please, don’t continue.
Rebekah kept her hand immovable beneath his. “Joseph—” She pressed her hand deeper into the soft dirt.
This particular spot would be perfect for worm hunting if we were here to fish.
Not one to be deterred, Joseph stroked her fingers with his. “What I’m trying to say is that I love you, Rebekah.”
His words echoed over the water and hung there between them in the still spring air.
A lone tear slid down her cheek. “Joseph, Samuel and Elnora have always told all us kids what love was. They said people make it more difficult but that a real, lasting love is really simple.” She pulled both her hands into her lap and left Joseph’s alone in the dirt. She didn’t bother to wipe away the tear before she finally turned to face him. “Love is understanding.”
Joseph bobbed his head. “My parents have said the same thing.”
Rebekah could see the uncertainty in his eyes and having to say words that would cause him pain burned at the raw ends of her already broken heart. “I can’t love you if I don’t love myself…not the kind of love you deserve.”
Rebekah stood and stepped toward the lake, unable to watch while she didn’t return his profession of the world’s most precious sentiment. “And I don’t understand anything right now, especially not myself.”
He was silent.
“I’m sorry, Joseph. I can’t love and understand you if I don’t love and understand myself.”
With a tear-streaked face, she finally turned away from the water. Joseph, though, was no longer there.
