Rebecca's Return (The Adams County Trilogy 2) Page 2

  “Yes,” John heard Cindy say, but missed the numbers. The nurse got out her cell phone and punched in the numbers rapidly.

  When the nurse stepped away to make the call, Cindy was left unattended. John saw her head go back against the headrest, her eyes rolling back into her head. Afraid this meant Cindy was going into shock, he started talking to her again. “The ambulance has been called. They’re on their way. Just hold on a little longer.” Cindy seemed not to hear him.

  Flipping the cell shut, the nurse came back. “She’s not answering, Cindy.” The the nurse stuck her head in through the smashed window, little jagged pieces of glass above and below her. Cindy didn’t respond.

  “Uh-oh,” the nurse said. “Cindy, wake up. Cindy, just a little longer. Hold on, dear.” She took Cindy’s hand and lightly shook her shoulder.

  Cindy snapped forward as if she was awakening from sleep. “Come on, breathe,” the nurse said in her ear. “Just hold on.”

  John turned toward the road when he heard the sound of sirens. “They’re coming.”

  “Thank God.” The nurse continued shaking Cindy’s shoulder every time she seemed to be on the verge of dropping off.

  The fire department truck from West Union arrived first. They were all young men, moving quickly and cautiously down from the knoll and toward the car. Right away they determined that they needed the “Jaws of Life.” While those were being unloaded, a temporary oxygen mask was fitted on Cindy. Immediately Cindy laid her head back on the headrest, seeming to relax considerably.

  As the firemen began their work, John noticed the tool they used to spread the metal apart. A fireman inserted it between the door hinges and turned it on. To the groans of creaking metal, it created a space where they could use a pair of giant snips to cut through the metal that was in the way. John watched in fascination as they used a smaller version to snap off the main arms of the door.

  John walked back up the knoll, hearing more sirens and seeing a state patrol car following an ambulance up the hill from 41. John waited until a stretcher was taken down to the site and Cindy was slid on to it before deciding that he really should get back to the store.

  When he walked in through the doorway, Aden was taking care of customers. Sharon, clearly in over her head, was showing a young couple the grandfather clocks. Relief showed all over her face, at the sight of him.

  “Anything serious?” Aden asked John, interrupting his conversation with the customers. All eyes turned in John’s direction.

  “She’s conscious,” he answered. “A woman, the only person involved, was injured. They just took her out on a stretcher. She said she fell asleep while driving to work.”

  “That’s too bad. Good that it’s not worse,” Aden said, turning back to his customers. The place immediately fell back into its normal routine, as if the world, having paused in concern, now continued on.

  John stepped over to the grandfather clocks to help Sharon. “Can I be of assistance?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Sharon said, almost gushing with relief. Then turning to the customer, she said, “This is John Miller. He can answer your questions much better than I can.”

  “I’ll try,” John told the young couple. “So what are you looking for?”

  Their foyer needed a clock, they told him. It needed to be somewhere between eighty and ninety-six inches tall, fit into an alcove that measured forty-two inches wide, and have an elegant design but not too fancy. He got a tape measure from the counter and had a sale in ten minutes, arranging for shipping into the suburb of Delhi Hills on the southern edge of Cincinnati.

  After they left and John had a moment to relax, he was annoyed to find that the troublesome thoughts of Rebecca were back in his mind. The accident he had just witnessed heightened his sense of uncertainty. The world was a dangerous place, he thought, able to change drastically in a moment of time.

  He wished he knew when Rebecca was coming home. But what if his feelings of doubt were justified. What if she did have a secret in Milroy? A boy she had loved. Or still loved. What if she told him something he’d rather not know? Something that would break up their engagement. Was the Rebecca he loved even capable of something that bad?

  His head spinning, John pushed the difficult thoughts away as he turned to help another customer coming through the doorway.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Rebecca, riding in the backseat of the twelve-passenger, silver Dodge Caravan, was squeezed between chubby Amanda Troyer and her husband, David, whose stringy growth of hair on his chin was trying unsuccessfully to form into a full-length beard.

  In the seat in front of them were Roy and Dorothy Miller and their four-month-old Elizabeth. Both couples were young, traveling to visit relatives on Wheat Ridge during Christmas.

  Rebecca had known both couples from her growing-up years in Milroy, as well as the older couple on the front bench seat, James and Laura Miller and their daughter, Susan. In the front seat beside the driver was James and Laura’s son, Andrew, a boy of twenty or so.

  Rebecca had heard something to the effect that Andrew had his eye on one of her cousins on the Keim side. In fact, he might well be going to visit the girl, she figured, instead of just writing a letter to begin a possible relationship. It could make for an interesting upcoming Sunday evening.

  Andrew hadn’t said much during the entire trip. The silent type, he had barely glanced at Rebecca when she had boarded the van at her aunt’s place. Not that Rebecca cared one way or the other, but it started her thinking about John.

  Rebecca breathed deeply. Leaving Emma’s she had been certain everything would be okay. She would tell John about her promise to Atlee, if he wanted to know. If John didn’t want to know, that was fine too.

  She had been honest with herself on this trip to Milroy. Yes, she had loved Atlee, loved him deeply, but that was over. Her heart had grown since then. It had grown larger with new places for love and affection. John could fill those places now. And she very much wanted John to fill her heart, to look at her with that intense desire shining in his eyes the way he did that day he proposed.

  The fear of the past, so haunting before her trip, now seemed to recede into the distance, driven away by the light. She smiled thinking about it.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” Amanda whispered, her midsection vibrating vertically with each bump in the road. “What’s that sweet smile about? John waiting for you?”

  “How do you know about John?” Rebecca whispered back, feeling a flush of red on her neck.

  “Oh,” Amanda replied with a grin, her voice going back to its normal tone, “birdies fly from tree to tree, you know.”

  “Well, yes, they do,” Rebecca agreed. “And yes, I suppose I was thinking about him. I don’t know if he’s expecting me back this Sunday or not. I haven’t let anyone know.”

  “Well, you should have, but they can probably figure it out,” Amanda allowed. “Your mom knows the baby was born, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes. I wrote her the day after.”

  “But no one might have told John,” Amanda stated more than asked.

  “Perhaps not. I don’t know.” A cloud crossed Rebecca’s face. “I guess I should have made more of an effort. There was just so much going on.”

  Amanda answered, “Either way—he’ll be so happy to see you, it won’t matter. How were you supposed to let him know? You weren’t gone that long?”

  “About three weeks.”

  “That’s not very long.”

  “I guess I could have called or written him. I’ll have to tell John I’m sorry.”

  “Did you have his address?”

  “There never was a reason for it before.”

  “You’ve never mailed him anything, not even a card at Christmas?”

  “I just gave it to him.”

  “Ach vell, don’t worry about it. Like I said—boys. They’re just so glad to see their girl.”

  The van slowed and made a turn onto a narrower road.

  “I
s this your road?” Amanda asked.

  “Yes,” Rebecca said, as the driver took the van around a sharp turn, “our place is up here on the left.”

  “So we’ll see each other on Sunday then?” Amanda asked hopefully. “It would be good to see another familiar face.”

  “Are you going to our district?”

  “I don’t know.” Amanda’s face fell. “If not, maybe I’ll see others I know from Milroy.”

  “There’s quite a few, I think,” Rebecca said, as the van slowed down to turn into the Keim driveway. “My, but it’s good to see home again.”

  “It’s a nice place here,” Amanda told Rebecca in approval. She then motioned for David to move, as the van came to a stop, so they could let Rebecca out. Both David and Amanda squeezed down the right side and stepped completely out of the van. Rebecca followed.

  David went to find her suitcase, while Rebecca paid the driver for her share of the trip. When she was done, her suitcase was sitting on a bare spot of the frozen ground. David and Amanda had already climbed back into the van. As the van drove down the road and out of sight, she was left alone in the driveway, the sense of home closing in all around her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Even though little time had slipped by, Rebecca felt as if she had been away from home a very long time because of all that had happened. Her heart felt aged and wise, having grown by leaps and bounds in such a short time.

  “Thank You, Lord,” she whispered, bending down to pick up her suitcase. “You have been so good to me. You used that trip at just the right time to bring me to my senses. Emma was so wise. Such good counsel. You must have known exactly what I needed.”

  The kitchen door opened slowly, and her mother stepped out, breaking into a smile at the sight of Rebecca. “I thought I heard something. Oh my, it’s so good to see you home.” Mattie came toward Rebecca, a food-stained apron around her waist, and reached for the suitcase after giving her a quick embrace.

  “Thanks, Mom, but I can carry it,” Rebecca said. “Where is everybody?”

  “Oh, the usual for this time of the day. Dad’s in town getting a part for the hay rake. It broke down last fall, and he’s getting ready for spring. Hopefully the dealership has it. The children are still in school. So, you were able to come on a load instead of the Greyhound?”

  “Yes. I only found out on Sunday, but by then my letter to you was already sent. Anyway, I figured you were expecting me about this time.”

  “I was, but I thought maybe tomorrow. So, how’s baby Jonathon?”

  “Hungry and still angry, I think. He didn’t seem to be too happy to be a part of this world.”

  Mattie chuckled. “They’re all like that, at least mine were. It takes a little adjusting sometimes. Then we learn to appreciate what Da Hah has in store for us. Is Leona okay?”

  “She was up working some on Wednesday already. I told her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. Said she needed to get in shape as soon as possible.”

  “That’s like Leona.”

  “It’s like you too,” Rebecca chided.

  “Well, we are sisters. It would have been good to see her again myself. So how was it, running a whole household all by yourself?”

  Rebecca pulled in her breath at the memory. “Scary at first. Thankfully, I had a few days to start in slow with Leona helping. That was a wise idea to go early. I think Leona appreciated it too.”

  Mattie nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, with it being your first time and all. Now you’re an experienced baby maid—in much demand. Even around here, if you want to.”

  Rebecca wrinkled her face. “That many diapers in that many days—I don’t know about that.”

  Mattie laughed. “It doesn’t pay much either. Not nearly as much as housecleaning for the English does. I guess that’s why most of us only do it for family. Come on inside and get settled in. There’s no sense in talking out here in the cold.”

  “Has John asked when I was to come back?” Rebecca asked, looking worried.

  “No, I assumed you would let him know. You didn’t write him when you wrote me a letter?”

  Rebecca made a face. “I didn’t have his address, but I know that’s a poor excuse. There was so much going on.”

  “That is a poor excuse.”

  “I know,” Rebecca said, “but I am glad I got some things solved. It was a busy time. Maybe if I explain it all to John, he’ll understand.”

  “He probably will, although it’s not good to leave a boyfriend without news for long.”

  “Mom, there’s something I should tell you about what happened though.”

  “Oh?” Mattie hesitated at the kitchen door.

  “Do you remember Atlee from Milroy?”

  “Yes. You and he were close at one time, weren’t you?”

  “Yes. But even more than that,” Rebecca said, then hesitated. “I finally figured out that I really did love him—in the sixth grade.”

  Mattie glanced at her and asked, “Now where did that come from? You surely don’t anymore, do you? That was a long time ago.”

  “It was,” Rebecca allowed. “But it troubled me. I didn’t quite trust my heart.”

  “Your heart was not then what it is now. If you let Atlee fill it—what there was to fill—now you can let John fill it. He is much better for you.”

  “I know that now, but I didn’t let Atlee fill it. He just did,” Rebecca protested.

  Mattie shrugged. “One never knows how such things happen. They just do. You can open and shut the door though. And now with John, you must simply shut the door on memories of Atlee.”

  “Yes,” Rebecca replied, “Emma said the same thing. But I didn’t know that before I went to Milroy.”

  “Why? What happened in Milroy?” Mattie asked, now suspicious. “Surely you didn’t see Atlee? Surely he would not have sought you out.”

  “No, Mom, it’s not like that. I went down to the Moscow bridge, where we used to go. I was trying to deal with something between us. Then Atlee did stop by—he was visiting relatives.”

  “And what happened?” Mattie asked.

  “Nothing to be alarmed about. He’s gone Mennonite…but you knew that. He’s getting married. I think talking to him was good. It helped me realize how much I really do love and need John.”

  “Good,” Mattie said, relief in her eyes. “All of us had thoughts and feelings when we were very young. But it’s not the same when you’re older. Real life starts when we grow up.”

  “And that’s how I feel now, Mom—grown up somehow. You think John will be too upset?”

  Mattie smiled at her daughter and then said, “I don’t think so. Now get yourself unpacked. I suppose Matthew will be glad for your help in the barn. I do think the chores are still a little too much for him. I could use some help myself in the kitchen too.”

  “What are you making?”

  “Cinnamon rolls. Now hurry and get changed. You can lay your clothing on the bed for now. Hang them up later. That way you’ll have time to see if any of them need ironing.”

  “I’ll be right down,” Rebecca said, heading for the stairs. As she opened the door to her room, she stood still for a moment, the feelings flooding her. This was her room, her place where she came when she needed to be alone. Here she wept when tears were needed, where no one else would see. It was the heart of home.

  Walking to her bed, she gently ran her hands over the quilt. The square cross-stitch design soothed her eyes, and the soft feathery strings brushing against her fingers moved her.

  She felt tears sting her eyes. I am being silly, she told herself. It’s just a normal room. Still she stood there for long moments, taking in the sensations of home. Hastily, to make up for time already lost, she lay her clothing from the suitcase out on the bed, changed into work clothes, and dashed downstairs.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Luke Byler was sitting in the New Holland front-end loader, his plans of finishing early with the chores running through his mind. Th
e melting snow from the storm a few weeks ago had turned the barnyards muddy. He could see the front barns where the cattle gathered to feed, their split hooves keeping the dirt mashed to a gooey mush from the constant tramping.

  Emma didn’t like to see her cattle with mud caked on their undersides, becoming unsightly and unsanitary specimens of fattening beef. The solution was to move the round feeding bins to another spot, allowing this section of the barnyard to dry out. From what he could tell of the weather, winter was just beginning.

  In Luke’s pocket was the letter Emma had put out to mail, and which he had retrieved. The letter burned in his pocket, begging to be taken home as quickly as possible. Yet danger lurked around the envelope, like stinging, flying wasps protecting their nest in the summertime. It had no doubt been wrong for him to have taken the letter from Emma’s mailbox. It was, after all, Emma who gave him work, paid him well, and even gave him a little extra at times.

  Fear of the consequences and yet delight at the cunningness of his actions had been playing themselves out in Luke’s mind all day. What if I get caught? Yet how could I get caught? Mail gets lost all the time, and Emma would simply conclude that was the case, if she concluded anything.

  Perhaps the letter would never be missed, and was it not his right to have the letter anyway?

  Had that not been his right, his family’s right all along, to inherit what was theirs?

  With the letter in his pocket, the future could well be secured for them all. Emma was surely giving the farms back to their rightful owners. Now his mother would no longer be able to blame him for holding back, for being a part of the fault that the three family farms were slipping through their fingers. No longer could she blame him for letting his enjoyment of Susie Burkholder blind his eyes to higher and nobler places.

  Luke sighed, thinking about the money that would come his way. Then he thought again of Susie. Funny how she seems to require so little. She just wants attention and affection from me. So why am I so concerned about money if Susie isn’t? His father, Reuben, didn’t seem to care much for money. In fact, most of the men he knew didn’t care about it either. Or did they?