Rebecca's Choice (5 page)

Reuben had expressed his regret over the eaten flowers and promised to tie the animals more securely. Promises, especially Reuben’s, meant little to Rachel. To her, he was the example of a promise unfulfilled.

The reason why Rachel had wanted to come early was to plan for the future. Now that Emma was gone, a little forward thinking might stand her in good stead.

While they drove up the long driveway, Reuben let the horse take it’s own good time. Rachel utilized the opportunity to contemplate the place—the barn, the yard full of towering oak trees, and the great house with its
Englisha
fireplace. Such a fireplace wasn’t allowed in the
ordnung,
but even the Amish bishop knew it could not be torn out, as most outside influences were when the Amish purchased a residence. Dismantling the grand fireplace would have caused serious damage to the home, and so Emma had lived with the
Englisha
fireplace.

Perhaps it was the fireplace, with its massive chimney through the roof, or perhaps it was the lay of the house on the hill that caused Rachel to make up her mind. This was to be her place. Emma had two other places—nice ones—and who knew how much money in the bank, a tidy sum Rachel was sure.

This place was to be hers, though. How that was to be managed, Rachel wasn’t sure, but it would be. She was certain of it. The years of pain had been too long, and the agony of the wait too great for it to be snatched away right before her eyes. That had happened when her father passed away, and if it happened again, the pain would be even greater.

For one thing, she was older, and the vigor of youth was no longer a ready source to draw strength from and recover by. The other reason was the child she carried. That she was to bear a child at her age, Rachel had made a measure of peace with. What she could not make peace with was losing the inheritance another time.

Reuben let her off at the sidewalk, and she went inside, straight to the bedroom. Emma looked like Rachel expected. Because no one else was in the room, Rachel moved out to the living room quickly and found a place to sit among the other women.

Surely her brothers would be fair. The thought had never occurred to her before. There were, after all, only three farms and four children. Rachel glanced toward the men’s section.

Ezra was a local, close with Bishop Mose, and well enough off in his own right. Abe and Jonas were from an Amish settlement in Missouri. They had moved there years ago, soon after the founding of the young community, and decided to stay. These two had Rachel worried.

Granted they were her own flesh and blood, but that seemed distant and unimportant at the moment. Both were about as poor as she was. Rachel knew this from family conversations, and from a general idea of how things stood. Reuben and Rachel had traveled to Missouri for a visit some four years ago, and it had not taken long for Rachel to form her opinion. Neither the Amish community in Missouri nor her brothers’ lives flowed with money.

How was this going to work? Rachel shifted on the bench and then turned to shake the hand of Esther Yoder, who had come in earlier.

“She was a good woman,” Esther whispered, bending close to Rachel.

Rachel nodded and thought Emma would have been a better woman if she’d done what was right before she passed away.

“Our daughter so loved Emma. Never had a better teacher—not in all her school years. You know how hard good teachers are to come by.”

Rachel nodded again. “Yes, she was.”

“The Lord takes when it’s His time. Young and old. Emma had a full life in years and in children.” Esther leaned even closer. “You think he’s coming?”

“Coming?” Rachel knew her eyes were full of questions because she didn’t have the slightest idea what Esther was referring to.

“Him,” Esther whispered, the tone of her voice speaking for itself.

Rachel was beginning to think the woman was a little off but quickly dismissed the thought as nonsense—Esther was one of the most sane women in the community.

“You don’t know about him?” Esther asked surprised. “I figured the family all knew.”

Rachel shook her head.

“Oh.”

Rachel moved closer, slowly so as not to attract attention.

“Your parents never told you?”

Rachel shook her head.

“The old people must have kept it to themselves, then. My mother knew, though. Maybe not too many did. Those kinds of things are sometime kept under wraps. Emma was once serious about someone. Around seventeen or so. Fell hard too, from what my mom said.”

Rachel waited.

“He was Mennonite. Always was. His parents too. Why she got thinking in that direction—who knows? Maybe it was just one of those things. Apparently it got stopped in time.”

“Why would he come?” Rachel asked.

“I don’t know,” Esther said. “Just wondered.”

“Really.” Rachel fast lost interest. A crush in one’s youth was normal. What Emma had done with her love life really didn’t matter to her. Then again, perhaps it did.

If Emma had married
… The thought sent shivers down Rachel’s spine. There could be a dozen children waiting in line—all with their hands out for money from her father’s inheritance. Rachel almost smiled, filled with a sense of gratefulness.

“It’s sad really,” Esther continued, “that Emma never married. Seems a waste in a way. She could have had children…grandchildren perhaps. They could have been here today—here when she passed. They could have lived life with her—could have mourned her passing.”

“Yes…they could have,” Rachel said and thought,
God in Heaven, be praised.
In all her thoughts of Emma, this was one she had never given time to. What would have happened if Emma had married, even later in life? The complications could have been immense.

“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.”

C
HAPTER
S
IX

T
he 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.”