Rebekah didn’t pull back as Joseph erased the space between them until her lips were warmed by his moist breath. She closed her eyes. Softly and without words, Joseph sealed the gap between them.
The kiss was over in an instant. But this moment’s effects will last a lifetime.
“Come here.” Joseph’s voice was low as he lifted his arm.
She leaned into him. His arm draped easily about her shoulders. She fit there, by his side, with such exactitude that it seemed one had been divinely made for the other. There they sat, snug in the warmth of their shared feelings, and the little cave didn’t seem so chilled, after all.
***
“Storm’s over!” Peter announced, and his deep voice echoed off the rocks. The words met Rebekah’s sleep-heavy ears. Something covered her. Struggling to focus her bleary eyes, she saw the something was black.
Joseph’s jacket.
Her lips turned up in a sleepy smile as she beheld the sight of him curled up with his back to her.
He must be freezing.
She draped the warm jacket carefully over him.
“Good morning, Peter.”
His eyebrows arched skyward and a smile stretched his lips wide. “Didn’t you hear me? Storms over!” He gestured wildly to the door. “We can get out of here.”
And visit an outhouse.
Peter reached over and gave Joseph’s shoulder a shake. “Hey, Joseph. Hey there. Come on, wake up. Let’s get out of here.”
Joseph sat up. With a dimpled smile and squinted eyes, he rubbed his inky curls. “That’s good news, Peter.”
Rebekah watched as he stretched and tried to shake the sleep from his brain. He linked his fingers and arched forward, his arms extended before him. Mid-stretch, he glanced at her.
Heat flooded her cheeks.
“Good morning, Rebekah.” The gleam in his eye hinted at some secret only the two of them shared. “Ready to go home?”
The scarlet cooled as quickly as it flared. “Yes!”
A loud rumble from her stomach sent an easy chuckle through the lot of them.
“Then let’s go.”
***
Outside, the deep gray sky was thick with low-lying clouds. To the east, bright and clear blue sky hinted at the truth in Peter’s words. Indeed, the unexpected storm was over.
“See, it’s over.” Peter flung his arms over his head. “Snow’s deep, though.”
Peter and Joseph had cleared the snow from the mouth of the cave overnight, so the area outside was relatively clear. Rebekah shifted her weight on her already icy feet.
“Let’s go.”
Trudging off in the direction of the Stoll home, Joseph led the way and scooped at the waist-deep snow with Rebekah’s washtub. “If that storm had lasted any longer,” he huffed, “We would have been in real trouble.”
Rebekah stepped close behind him.
“I’ll take over when you get tired, Joseph,” Peter offered from behind her.
Joseph nodded, his wide-brimmed black hat a stark contrast to the ocean of surrounding snow.
After only a short distance, Rebekah tugged at her cape and her teeth chattered.
This is going to be a long walk, God, please help us make it home.
Heaviness weighted her shoulders.
“Here, sister, you look cold.” Peter’s thick duster was warm about her shoulders. “Here, Joseph, my turn.” He slipped past Rebekah, retrieved the washtub, and commenced flinging snow.
Joseph took his place behind Rebekah, his angular face red. “Snow’s heavy,” he breathed.
“Hey!” Peter gestured ahead. “There are men.” He flung the snow with a newfound ferocity. “It’s your people. Over here!”
“Over here, over here!” chorused Rebekah and Joseph. Her tender fingers burned from the cold. She tucked them deep in the duster pockets.
A chattering of German and English filled the chilled, soupy air as the familiar voices of Mr. Graber, Mr. Yoder, Mr. Wagler, and Mr. Knepp met their ears.
“I see someone!”
“Get the buggy!”
Rebekah quickened her steps to keep up with Peter, who took off at a trot.
Above all, Samuel’s voice rode the wind. “My daughter, is she there?”
Her words tore from her throat in a scream as Joseph waved his hat high above them. “I’m here, Pa!”
Samuel’s new draft horses marched easily through the snow. They even seemed to enjoy it, swishing their tails and stepping lively.
Thank you, God.
“Thank God, they’re alive!” Lucas Graber’s voice bounced along the snow. “Come, get in the buggy!”
The snow made the buggy ride rough, but the draft horses didn’t seem to mind.
“The storm came out of nowhere while I was doing laundry, Pa.” Rebekah leaned against her Pa. “The clothes are still there.” An apologetic note hung on her words. “Somewhere.”
“Clothes are replaceable, Rebekah. You aren’t.” Holding her tightly beneath his arm, he glanced at Joseph. “Are you to thank for saving my little girl?”
Lucas snapped the reins. “Always in the right place at the right time, aren’t you, son?”
