“You got a fat one!” Joseph held out her sweet-scented pole. “You want to bait, or me?”
“If you’ll hold the hook still, I’ll try first.”
Their hands touched as she tried again and again to spear the unlucky worm on the carefully crafted hook. The frequent brushings of their skin sent welcome charges from Rebekah’s hands, up her arms, and straight into her soul.
The worm, though, wasn’t cooperating. The harder she tried to make bait out of him, the harder he tried to escape. Finally, she held him still. With the hook clutched in her fingers, she noticed an intricate little R engraved on one side.
“Joseph, what a beautiful R.” Her soft voice was even more subdued as she admired the tiny print. “That makes this gift even more special.”
Her focus lost on the slippery creature, the worm dropped to the safety of the dirt and disappeared.
Joseph’s hand, warm and caked with dirt, covered hers. Bits of grass poked off his fingertips as he turned her fingers gently. There, on the other side of the smudged hook, was a perfect little J.
Joseph and Rebekah.
“Do you ever think about Rumspringa?” She felt his blue eyes burning into her like hot sapphires. He still hadn’t taken his hand off hers, and her knees were as watery as the lake they had yet to draw a fish from.
“Yes. I do.” She tilted her chin to look at him. “Thank you for waiting so we could Rumspringa together.”
“It was easy to wait those two years.” His let his hand fall. An unwelcome, empty coolness replaced what had been warm and soft. “I couldn’t let you go off into the English world alone. Or with Elijah.”
Rebekah sucked in her cheeks. Elijah had shown no qualms about displaying his feelings for her and had made it well known that he had intended to marry her when their time came to Rumspringa. “I still can’t believe he stayed with the English.”
She shivered as splinters of fear shot through her body at the mention of the English.
Joseph’s normally tender voice turned flat with talk of Elijah. “I can.”
Rebekah squinted at him. His body had gone from lanky to rigid. Desperate, her mind wandered to something—anything—to regain the lost moment of gentle comfort they’d shared. “Do you still think of Rumspringa?”
His mouth softened from the hard line it has become. “I think of it often. Fondly.”
Thoughts of their time spent with the English during the Amish tradition of Rumspringa flooded her mind. Meant to let the Amish teens get a taste of the English life before deciding to become full-fledged Amish citizens or not, Rumspringa had proven to be more of a terrifying experience for her. Well, terrifying except for the fact she’d shared her Rumspringa experience with Joseph and they’d grown so much closer on a more grown-up level.
He stepped back and squatted at the water’s edge. Without a word, he plunged his hands into the lake before he continued. “Do you have any regrets?”
Rebekah replaced her hook on the pole and propped it against the fan of tulip tree branches. “Regrets?”
“About coming back and getting baptized in the Church. Instead of staying with the English.”
Rebekah hunkered down next to Joseph and rinsed her hands in the lake. “Not one regret. I couldn’t wait to get home.” She patted them dry on the grass. “Everyone was so shocked when we showed up early.”
She sucked in a breath and basked in the warmth of that golden memory. How wonderful it had been to sleep in her own bed, in her own house, with her own people the night after she and Joseph had hitched a ride back to Gasthof Village with a west-bound family in a Conestoga wagon. “Do you have any regrets?
Joseph dried his hands on the seat of his britches. “Only one, but it isn’t important.” He picked up both poles and balanced them on his shoulder before turning back to face her. “I think I hear cinnamon cake calling. Shall we try to fish another time?”
Thoughts swirled in her mind like a thunderstorm as she matched her pace to his.
Even with regrets, he still consented to baptism?
She tried out each theory on the walk across the meadow.
What could he regret…coming back early?
Before they reached the house, the smells of baked goods permeated the air.
“Looks like everyone is already here,” Joseph mused as they approached the packed Stoll homestead.
He stopped short and waited for Rebekah to catch up.
“Happy birthday, Rebekah. Your birth is definitely worth celebrating.”
Something in his voice caused her heartbeat to quicken.
Everything feels so different with Joseph today. Different in a good, grown-up sort of way.
She smoothed imaginary wrinkles from the skirt of her dress.
Joseph placed the poles gently on the ground. “Here, your covering is a bit—” He raised his still slightly grubby hands and leaned in close.
Rebekah ran her tongue over her suddenly-dry lips as he tugged lightly on the white strings. His hands hovered there alongside her neck, close and warm, as his lips cocked into a half-smile only inches from hers. He seemed to be in no hurry to move. “A bit crooked.”
His breath was sweet, like honey, as it caressed her cheek. Tingles rushed down her spine as she struggled to make her mouth form words, but her breath hung in her throat.
Joseph didn’t speak; he simply stood and stared. The closeness of his fingertips to her neck made her heart pound all the more.
He inhaled slowly and opened his mouth but closed it again. Dropping the strings, Joseph plucked the pair of fishing poles up instead and started off in the direction of the Stoll homestead without looking back.
***
“Hallo, Rebekah! Hallo, Joseph!” Simon Wagler’s chipper voice bounced off the trees that surrounded her home.
Rebekah saw Joseph offer a slight wave to Simon and Sarah, Elijah’s parents, as they exited their buggy. She stepped past the line of buggies to catch up.
It looks like everyone from Gasthof Village is here.
The Yoders’ fluffy puppy ran through the grass. With each bound, the tiny fur ball would disappear between the blades, only to bounce back up again. The Odons and Rabers sat on the porch visiting, while the Knepps were just pulling in. Joseph stopped to help the Knepp twins, Katie and Annie, out of the buggy.
I wonder if Katie has gotten over her crush on Joseph. Rebekah quickened her step. It certainly doesn’t appear so.
Katie, in a floor-length gray dress, stood closer to him than Rebekah thought proper in the short walk up to the house. A heat surged in her belly and rippled outward, leaving her insides on a slow burn. Color crept back into her cheeks, but she was powerless to stop it.
“Happy birthday, Rebekah!” Annie Knepp’s lively voice melted away the swell of emotions that had surged only moments before. She held out a quart jar tied with ribbon. “Apple butter. I hope you enjoy it.”
“Danke, Annie. You remembered my favorite.” She slipped her arm through the other girl’s and they walked up the steps together. When the front door opened, a barrage of mouth-watering smells washed over them. Rebekah tried to discern each aroma as she greeted her guests amid the buzz of gentle visiting and laughter.
“Good evening, Mrs. Yoder.” Mmm, chicken pot pie, fresh from the oven.
“Mr. Raber, Mrs. Raber, thank you for coming.” Rhubarb pie, the crust no doubt stuffed with the extra filling.
