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Authors: Jerry S. Eicher

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Rebecca's Choice

BOOK: Rebecca's Choice
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Rebecca’s

CHOICE

 

JERRY S. EICHER

 

HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS

EUGENE, OREGON

All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

 

Cover by Dugan Design Group, Bloomington, Minnesota

 

Cover photos © Gary #4883772 / Fotolia; Corbis / Jupiterimages; Author photo by Brian Ritchie

REBECCA’S CHOICE

Copyright © 2010 by Jerry S. Eicher

Published by Harvest House Publishers

Eugene, Oregon 97402

www.harvesthousepublishers.com

 

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Eicher, Jerry S.
Rebecca’s choice / by Jerry Eicher.
   p. cm.—(The Adams County trilogy ; bk. 3)
ISBN 978-0-7369-2637-9 (pbk.)
1. Amish—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3605.I34R38 2010
813.’6—dc22

2009031513

 

All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

 

Printed in the United States of America

10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 / RDM-NI / 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Table of Contents

 

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-two

Chapter Thirty-three

Chapter Thirty-four

Chapter Thirty-five

Chapter Thirty-six

Chapter Thirty-seven

Chapter Thirty-eight

Chapter Thirty-nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-one

Book Group Discussion Questions

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Other books by the Author

C
HAPTER
O
NE

 

 

T
he day dawned without a cloud in the sky, the sunrise a blaze of light. In the months that followed, Rebecca Keim would often wonder where the storm clouds had hidden themselves.

A robin greeted her right after chores and breakfast. It sat on a lower tree branch outside the living room window, its claws gripping the limb, its eyes following her movements. The sun lit up the robin’s feathers and gave them a soft glow.

“Good morning,” she said. “So spring is here? Did you come to tell us?”

“Who are you talking to?” The voice came from the kitchen, but soon after her mother, Mattie, came to stand in the door opening.

“A robin has come to tell us of spring. Our troubles are over it says.” Rebecca chuckled at her own words.

“You wish,” Mattie said. “Stop staring out the window, and let’s get ready. The day is getting away fast enough already.”

“I’m not going,” Rebecca said, announcing her sudden decision. The robin might have had something to do with it, she figured, but it didn’t look guilty at all. It tilted its head at her and flew off.

“Not going? But it’s the sewing. We need you.”

“It’s the women’s sewing. I’m not married,” Rebecca said, that being the first justification that came to her mind. What she really wanted was to enjoy the day by herself—to have peace and quietness in the house and no one around.

“Close enough,” Mattie informed her, then added with a chuckle, “I suppose John doesn’t think so.”

Rebecca didn’t say anything. She turned back to the window to hide the blush as the color spread across her face. That was another reason she wanted to stay home, to think of John without anyone implying her thoughts were inappropriate. She longed to think of his face, the way his jaw could firm up, allowing a smile to curl the corner of his mouth, and have no one here to say, at just the best moment,
Stop dreaming of John.

She supposed she did dream a lot lately, but then there were reasons for that. Life had been a little rough for them but much better lately. Last Sunday night with John had been just like old times—even better than before the accident. John showed little effects from the winter’s dramatic events. Sometimes she thought she saw him limp slightly, but then that too would go away.

“Come on,” Mattie said. “We have to hurry.”

Rebecca shook her head and kept her face turned toward the window. “I’ll do the dishes. You can go alone.”

“Suit yourself,” her mother replied giving in. “Let’s get the kitchen work finished, then—as far as we can before I go. Dad’s got the horse tied up.”

Rebecca hoped her face wasn’t still red, but she doubted it. A few minutes more at the window would have helped, but her mother would think the same thing if she lingered. She smoothed her hair back and walked to the kitchen.

“Your wedding day will come soon enough,” Mattie said, after a glance at Rebecca’s face.

“A whole year yet,” Rebecca said almost groaning.

“You were the ones who set the date.” The dishes rattled as Mattie transferred them to the counter.

“Maybe we could move it up,” Rebecca said. The statement reminded her why she wanted to be alone. Things like this just came out. Her mouth spilled them all over the place. She wanted to be alone to think first instead of speaking.

“You’d better talk to John about that, not me. Just don’t go and jump the date forward at the last minute. We have to get ready. Weddings aren’t prepared for in a day.”

“I know,” Rebecca said sighing. “I just run my mouth too much, when it comes to this, at least. I wouldn’t bring it up with John anyway. When we planned the date, it seemed like the right time. Plenty of time then.”

“There’s still plenty of time. It goes by fast. Summer will be here before long. Then fall and winter. You’ll wonder where the days went to.”

“Sounds long,” Rebecca said. She paused before she turned hot water on for the dishes. “Isn’t it time you go?”

Mattie glanced at the kitchen clock. “Yes, if I want to be early—which I do. I guess this does work out okay.”

“I’ll get the horse, then.” Rebecca was glad the conversation had moved on. She stepped outside, her coat draped across her arm. The weather had already warmed up considerably from when she had been out for morning chores. Still, she slipped the coat on. The robin spoke the truth—spring would soon be here. She could smell it in the air. Winter, with its bland cover of cold, ice, and snow, was broken by the faint odors of awakening life. Soon the promise would be evident in the smell of the cherry blossoms. The lush grass would need to be cut. The trees would push out their buds, and the plowed soil in the fields would be ready for seeds again.

Rebecca found the old driving horse where her father, Lester, had left it, tied inside the barn. She led it out to the buggy. It seemed weary this morning, and for just a moment, she thought it limped. That would make for complications because a lame house couldn’t be used.

A change of horses meant considerable time would be lost. The younger horse, Rebecca knew, wasn’t that safe to drive anyway. She didn’t mind it too much, but her mother was terrified of the younger horse’s wild ways. Of late it had picked up another bad habit. It shied at the slightest objects along the road and needed constant attention at the reins.

Rebecca pulled the old driver to a stop and lifted its foot. She inspected the hoof, but nothing seemed out of order—no nail or foreign object was visible.

“What’s wrong?” Mattie asked, rushing from the house.

“The horse seemed lame,” Rebecca said, not wanting to alarm her mother. “Can’t see anything, though.”

“Here.” Mattie took the reins and led the horse forward a few steps.

“It looks okay,” Rebecca said.

“Maybe it will last for the drive, and Lester can look at its hoof tonight.”

“You’d better not drive the other horse,” Rebecca said, just in case her mother’s decision went in that direction.

“I can’t run this one lame.” Mattie pulled the horse forward a few more steps.

“I’ll watch you drive out the lane,” Rebecca volunteered. “If it’s too bad, I’ll wave.”

Mattie nodded. A horse that ran might show a limp, while one that walked didn’t. It would be the ultimate test.

While Rebecca lifted the shafts, Mattie brought the horse around. They had it hitched in minutes. Rebecca held the bridle while Mattie climbed in. When she drove off, Rebecca watched for any signs of trouble but saw none. She stood still, as Mattie paused at the end of the driveway and glanced back.

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