Rebecca's Choice (The Adams County Trilogy 3) Read online

  “I guess she was happy,” Esther said and got up. “She had children, in a way. Many of them. Maybe that’s why she taught school, poured her heart out the way she did, gave them her all. It would explain a lot. At least her life wasn’t lost—not with the blessing she was.”

  Rachel nodded and reached up to shake the hand of Sylvia Esh, who had just come out of the bedroom.

  “She was a good woman,” Sylva whispered. “Our children just loved her.” She then moved on.

  An hour slipped by as people came and went. Then Bishop Mose slowly got to his feet. Rachel glanced at the clock. It was nearly eight o’clock, time to wrap things up.

  Mose cleared his throat. “As the time is getting on, the family has requested that prayer be done now. Those who need to leave can leave afterward. Let us kneel before the face of God.”

  As the people knelt beside their benches, Bishop Mose led out in prayer. When he was done, Rachel got up and took her seat again. While some people stood here and there in the room, some started filing out. Luke left with some of the first ones. She saw Reuben get up a few minutes later, obviously with plans to leave. His goats on his mind, she figured.

  Bitter thoughts ran through her mind. Well, let the lousy, smelly things die, for all I care. When Reuben moved toward the bedroom instead of outdoors, she ignored him—even when he glanced in her direction. Let him pay his respects to Emma again. She had already paid hers. It was high time Emma paid hers likewise.

  With a bowed head, Reuben walked forward. Rachel saw her two brothers, Abe and Jonas, just arrived from Missouri, get up and follow. The three entered the bedroom and exited a few minutes later. Rachel was sure Reuben’s grim face was just a display of deacon piety—a display for others to see. What could Emma possibly have meant to him? He certainly didn’t care about Emma’s money.

  Reuben silently drove home and then unhitched the buggy while Rachel walked to the house. She thought to stay and help but decided the man needed all the useful work he could get. He would just go tend his goats anyway.

  With money on the way, she didn’t care that much about what Reuben did. Funny how Reuben’s effort to support his family, deacon that he was, would soon become his hobby, now that she had Emma’s money. His goats would become his entertainment, really quite fitting for a man who never could see where life’s real value lay.

  Luke was not around when she went in. Apparently he already had gone upstairs to bed. She dismissed him from her mind and went back to her plans for tomorrow.

  Suddenly she remembered her question about Abe and Jonas. How is this going to work? There are the three farms, the money in the bank, and four children. Did Emma leave detailed instructions in her will? Probably not. It would be more like Emma to have us all fight it out, she thought. They wouldn’t give Emma the pleasure, though—she would see to that. Abe and Jonas would be satisfied with the extra money and one farm between them. The money was still of an undetermined amount, but Rachel was sure it would be large. The sum had to be from all the years of farm income. Abe and Jonas would have more money than they ever saw before.

  She decided Ezra could have the third farm, she the home place, and if things really went well, there might even be a portion of money left from the bank account for her. Reuben and she would sell the place here, pay off the debt, and move. Reuben could bring his silly goats along with him, if he wanted to.

  It was an hour later, when she heard Reuben come into the utility room from the outside, that the thought occurred to her. What if Emma had left the inheritance to him—the Mennonite boyfriend Esther spoke about? The thought chilled Rachel. Fingers of fear ran down her spine.

  Did Emma deliberately leave a trail to Rebecca, simply for a smoke screen…to throw us off? Was all our hard work for nothing? Did I drive Luke away by insisting that he snatch Emma’s letter—the one addressed to her attorney—from her mailbox to bring it to me? Was it all for naught?

  Rachel could still remember those awful words from the letter. “Then please name Rebecca Keim, of Union, Ohio, the daughter of Lester and Mattie Keim, as the primary beneficiary of all my property… contingent upon…that Rebecca Keim must not under any circumstances marry a non-Amish person.”

  What if Emma intended for Luke to find the letter, actually planned on me reading it, and all the while, cleverly covered up the real plan until it was too late. Is Emma to have her final revenge?

  She sat down at the kitchen table, and Reuben found her there.

  “I’m sorry,” he said and obviously meant something else entirely. He laid his hand tenderly on Rachel’s shoulder.

  “God is against us,” she whispered, to which he couldn’t have the slightest clue what she meant.

  “It’s a hard time for us all,” Reuben said, his fingers tightening on her shoulder. “She lived a good life, though.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The windup alarm clock rattled up and down and clanged out its racket, waking Rebecca well before the regular choring time. She groped in the darkness and found the shutoff button before anyone else in the house awakened. Sleepily she found a match, slid the top across a dresser drawer bottom with a flick of her wrist, and lit it.

  Lifting the globe on the kerosene lamp, she transferred the flame to the wick just before the heat on the matchstick threatened to burn her fingers. In the chill of the room, she gasped as her hand almost slipped on the glass globe. One side had caught on the metal brackets and refused to budge. She tried again, holding her breath, and the globe finally slipped into place.

  With her suitcase already downstairs, Rebecca quickly changed into her traveling clothes and quietly left the room, carrying the kerosene lamp in one hand. Because of the early hour, she had planned to fix a bowl of cold cereal. Rebecca wasn’t surprised, though, to hear her mother’s footsteps coming from the main floor bedroom.

  “You really should have a hot breakfast,” Mattie whispered. “You won’t get there till after lunch.”

  Rebecca shook her head and poured cornflakes into a small bowl. “I’m okay.”

  Mattie slid onto the kitchen table bench. “Leona has a pattern for me. Make sure you don’t forget it.”

  “For you?” Rebecca glanced up before she added milk to the cereal.

  “The sewing. It might work a little better for some of the women than the one we have. Baby patterns are all different. She has one of Jonathon’s.”

  “I’ll try not to forget.”

  “Leona will help. She mentioned it in her last letter.”

  Rebecca nodded and glanced at the clock on the wall. If the van arrived at five at Edna’s, she still had plenty of time to walk across the road. Since this was the last stop, the van might even be a little late, but that wouldn’t be wise to depend on. They could wait, she supposed, but that wasn’t what she wanted.

  “You’ll be back late the day after the funeral.”

  “Might be early. Depends when they start back, I guess.”

  “Never as early as when they leave.” Mattie made a face.

  “Do I need to be back early? I guess you are shorthanded. Matthew’s doing Edna’s chores all week.”

  “Might as well get used to it,” Mattie said resolutely. “You are getting married, so I’ll have to help if things get too tight.”

  “What about Katie? She’s about old enough.”

  “Suppose so. They are growing up,” Mattie said, and Rebecca knew her mother had already known.

  “I’ve got to be going.” Rebecca glanced at the clock again and got up from the table.

  “Have a safe trip.” Mattie stayed seated, as Rebecca picked up her suitcase and stepped out into the early morning darkness.

  The air was still brisk for a spring morning. Rebecca gripped the handle, its weight already heavy by the time she was halfway down the driveway. At the blacktop she set the suitcase down to catch her breath. No car lights appeared on the road, for which she was thankful. A quick dash toward Edna’s lane, and she was across the road.
r />   Had anyone seen her? She didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. To be caught in the headlights, the occupants would be curious why an Amish girl was out walking the roads at five thirty in the morning with her suitcase at her side. Such a sight couldn’t be considered too normal in the Englisha world.

  A dim light was visible in the front window, so she knocked on the door. Edna’s voice called out from somewhere in the house, “Come on in.”

  Inside Rebecca saw no one around. The light came from the bedroom, where Edna was apparently still making preparations. Rebecca seated herself at the kitchen table and waited.

  “I can’t believe it,” Edna said, bustling out moments later. “Me, an old woman who doesn’t sleep anyway, slept right through the alarm. Can you believe that?”

  “Maybe it didn’t go off,” Rebecca said chuckling, her thoughts on her own dancing alarm clock.

  “Could be,” Edna said, taking a quick look out the front window. “That would be worse, though. Means I didn’t turn it on. Life’s got us old people coming and going. Hard of hearing or forgetful. Sure a good thing the Lord is coming soon.”

  “At least you’re well enough for the trip,” Rebecca said. She wanted to express some comfort for Edna’s sake.

  “Jah, I know. Something to be thankful for. Maybe the good Lord is giving me grace. Was down last week with something. If Emma had passed then, I couldn’t have gone. Would have been a hard thing, indeed.”

  “Were you close?” Rebecca asked. She searched her memory for the connection between the two women.

  “Growing up we were. In Milroy. It’s been years, though. I got married to Elmer. He wanted to move here. Emma never got married.”

  Rebecca thought Edna said the last statement a little sadly. “Why?” she asked.

  “She never told me. She had a Mennonite boyfriend once. Real secret about it. Didn’t last long enough to get her into trouble. Nothing official of course, him being Mennonite. I just thought she took it hard, from what I could tell.”

  “That he was Mennonite?”

  “That she loved him,” Edna said.

  “Loved him?” Rebecca leaned forward in the chair.

  “Just him. Only him. She could be stubborn, Emma could.”

  “Emma told you this?”

  “Not really,” Edna admitted. “Well…not all of it. I knew she fell for him and never dated anyone else that anyone knew about.”

  “She was a good schoolteacher,” Rebecca said, returning to familiar ground. “Excellent she was, at least in my eyes.”

  “Yes, she was,” Edna said, as lights lit up the driveway. “Guess we’d better be going. Now where did I put my suitcase? I had it all packed last night.”

  “There,” Rebecca said. She pointed toward Edna’s desk in the living room, where the black suitcase sat.

  “See?” Edna threw her hands in the air. “You see how bad it’s getting? At least I’m well enough to go. I guess Da Hah does help in time of need.”

  “Let me take your suitcase,” Rebecca offered, reaching out for it.

  “I’m not totally helpless,” Edna told her and grasped the suitcase.

  “I’ll get the door, then,” Rebecca said with a smile. She waited while Edna carefully made her way, her suitcase clutched with both hands.

  “Lock the door,” Edna said over her shoulder.

  Rebecca did and checked the knob twice, before she followed Edna toward the van.

  Mrs. Coldwell, the driver the Amish frequently used, greeted them with a cheerful, “Good morning.”

  “I guess it is, but don’t ask my bones, though. That and other things, all in the body, of course,” Edna told her. She handed over her suitcase to Mrs. Coldwell, who placed it in the back of the van with the rest of the luggage.

  “You sound chirpy enough,” Mrs. Coldwell said chuckling.

  “Thankful. Just thankful,” Edna said and stepped into the van. “Good morning,” she said loudly, just inside the door.

  “You don’t have to bust my eardrums,” Rebecca heard Isaac say from the back of the van. Apparently she would travel in the same van as John’s parents.

  “Didn’t hear my alarm go off,” Edna shouted at him in the same tone of voice. “Wait till you’re my age, and you’ll be sleeping right through yours too.”

  “He already shouts,” Miriam said, as Edna took her seat and Rebecca stepped inside. “It’s just his preaching voice.”

  “Now…now,” Isaac said smiling. “It’s too early in the morning for all these hard feelings. We have to remember Da Hah and His kindness.”

  “See what I mean,” Miriam said in Edna’s direction. Several of the others in the van chuckled softly.

  “At least you still have him, preaching or not,” Edna said, a note of sadness in her voice. “Elmer’s been gone for many a year now.”

  “Yes,” Miriam agreed, “I have much to be thankful for.”

  “Guess we all do.” Edna settled into her seat, and silence descended on the van, as Mrs. Coldwell started the engine.

  Rebecca was sure the others’ thoughts had gone where hers did—where they were headed and the mortality of mankind. As daylight came some hours later, the conversations began again. Rebecca mostly listened, as their voices ebbed and flowed across the miles.

  They stopped at Wendy’s for lunch and arrived in Milroy early in the afternoon. Rebecca was the last to be picked up and also the last to be dropped off. No particular reason existed other than the order of where specific homes were located.

  Leona was all smiles when she greeted her at the door. The children weren’t home from school yet, so it was just her and the three youngest. Leroy and James said “Hi,” while baby Jonathon waved his hands and feet from the crib in the living room.

  “Moved him out here,” Leona explained. “He likes it better, and it keeps him entertained while I work—safer too than on the blanket.”

  Rebecca chuckled as Leona glanced meaningfully at Leroy and James.

  “They don’t mean to be rough. They’re just boys,” Leona said. “They’ve been outside all day. Tired of it, I think.”

  “Leroy fell down the hole,” James announced, “and broke his head.”

  “Really.” Rebecca waited. Since Leroy looked fine, Rebecca figured there was exaggeration involved somewhere.

  “Hard,” James said solemnly. “From all the way up. Down. Smash. Dad said he could have been hurt.”

  “The haymow.” Leona groaned and supplied the adult information. “He slipped somehow. Didn’t do much damage, thankfully. James was scared, though.”

  “Almost died,” James said.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Leona told him. “It just frightened you.”

  “Was it scary?” Rebecca asked, sympathy in her voice.

  James nodded, his eyes big.

  “I think he watched him go—from the top.” Leona supplied the information again.

  “Down,” James said. “Boom!”

  “I guess you won’t forget it too soon,” Rebecca told him. “You have to be more careful. Falling isn’t any fun. It can hurt too.”

  James nodded, then turned his attention to Leroy, who pulled on his sleeve.

  “Play with him,” Leona instructed them, “out here maybe.”

  As James and Leroy got their heads together, their plans with Jonathon began. Leroy supplied most of the whispers. Since Leona insisted, Rebecca took a seat on the couch.

  “I’ve been sitting all day,” she protested.

  “Well, I haven’t,” Leona told her. “You want to attend the viewing tonight? We were there last night.”

  Rebecca thought for a moment, considered the option, then decided. “No,” she said, “the funeral’s tomorrow. I’ll just go then.”

  “We’ll take you gladly,” Leona assured her, “or I can, if Stephen doesn’t want to go again.”

  “I don’t think so,” Rebecca said, shaking her head.

  “You sure?”

  “Sure,” Rebecca
told her. “The funeral will be good enough. It’s not like I’m a close relative.”

  “That doesn’t matter. Schoolteacher is close enough.”

  “I know,” Rebecca said, the matter decided in her mind. “The funeral will be enough. Starts at nine tomorrow, right?”

  “Or earlier, depending on when everyone gets there,” Leona reminded her. “It’s not like a regular service.”

  “Are you going?”

  “Everyone is,” Leona said. “She was in our district.”

  Outside the voices of the schoolchildren attracted their attention. The door burst open suddenly.

  “Rebecca’s here,” the two oldest girls shouted together and rushed up to give her hugs. Elmo, the oldest boy, grinned but walked on toward the kitchen.

  “Always hungry,” Leona muttered. “You’re going to have to wait for supper,” she called after his retreating back.

  “Mom,” Elmo groaned, “that’s a long time.”

  “You’ll wait. Do your chores, and maybe we can have an early supper with Rebecca here.”

  His face looked resigned as he headed toward his bedroom.

  “You’re in the spare bedroom—same place as before,” Leona said with a smile. “Get settled in. I’ll start supper with the girls. Maybe we can do something special tonight.”

  “Like cherry pie and ice cream?” Lois, the oldest girl, asked.

  “I don’t know about that, but we’d better get busy,” Leona told her. “We’ll think of something.”

  “Rebecca is here,” Verna said. “That’s special enough.”

  “You don’t have to say that,” Rebecca told the eight-year-old and gave her another hug. “It’s special to be here.”

  “You’re here because Emma died,” Verna said solemnly.

  Rebecca nodded. “But I get to see you and Lois too.”

  “We’ll come with you tomorrow—to the funeral. She was a good teacher. That’s what Elmo said.”