Rebecca's Promise (13 page)

W
ith a last look at Emma’s house from the end of the driveway, Luke slapped the reins and headed down the road. His horse’s hooves, once they hit the blacktop, made a hollow noise in the snow, muffled and deep.

Money.
He breathed the smell of it in deeply, becoming fully aware of the existence of vast quantities of the stuff and what it could mean in relation to himself.

That it should even make a difference in love, he had never supposed possible. Yet, there it was, the realization that now he would get to enjoy Susie as his girlfriend all because he would be sure that money came his way…one way or another.

But it would take more than what was contained in his tin can under the hay bale. Although, he supposed, even his savings would have been sufficient eventually. It just might have taken him longer to get there.

Now though, things were suddenly and swiftly different, possibly coming much sooner than he had imagined. This very Sunday Susie Burkholder might very well be riding beside him after the singing. That look in her eyes would be his to enjoy. He would call her his own—his girl.

This did put things in quite a different light. Maybe money was more important than he had ever supposed. His father said that it wasn’t important, and Luke had always leaned in that direction himself. The advice was, after all, coming from a deacon of the church and his father. Thus it ought to bear quite a bit of weight.

Now though, he had seen with his own eyes, felt with his own heart, some of the things that money could do. It had brought the idea of love to him, the love of a girl who wanted him. He was sure he would not have entertained the notion if it were not for the presence of money. Plenty of it, he reminded himself.

Too much money, his father often warned, was dangerous. Well, this must not be too much yet because it was causing good things for him. He let the memory of Susie’s eyes run all the way through him. How would it be to have her beside him in his own buggy? He wasn’t sure, but his mind enjoyed trying to get a firm hold on it.

“Susie,” he said the name softly, as his horse’s hooves hit the blacktop, pounding away in the snow. Why had he never fully noticed how beautiful her name sounded before? That was because of the money too, he reasoned.
How strange,
he thought, but that was what had happened.

Yet fear pushed at him. If it was money that was responsible for his newfound notions, then maybe money could also take away one’s happiness. Was that not possible? He clutched himself with both arms, nearly jerking on the reins in the process.

He pushed the thought away, afraid it might be true and decided that for now he would have to play it safe. He would take the package to the post office and buy the proper postage. That way, wherever this package was going to, Emma would receive no inquiries as to why it had been opened en route.

I could take it home and let Mother open it. She could get it back together without anyone being able to tell.
Startled at the thought, he considered this for a moment. That would be a way to cover both of his bases, and he might come out the best in the end.

Just when he was at the point of turning east on 900 instead of west toward Milroy, he remembered Emma. Could he really betray her trust? Was it fair after all she had done for him? After she was responsible for his little savings account in the haymow?

No, he would not betray her. Tomorrow he would need to go back to work for her, and with this on his conscience, it would just be too
hard.
No, Mother would have to find some other way around this problem. I will not open the envelope or take it to Mother.

Pulling on the reins, he turned left, then right on 100. Ten minutes later he was at a stop sign with the buildings of Milroy within his sight. Waiting for two cars to pass, he slapped the reins and pulled out onto the state road, hugging the right shoulder—driving half on and half off of it to make more room for passing vehicles.

The state road was always dangerous, and in snow like this, it was extra precarious. He considered turning on his flashers, but that would use up battery power. Instead, he would just keep his eyes open, and when headlights lit up his rear mirror, he would turn the flashers on for a short time.

But no headlights appeared until he was in the center of town, and by then the cars had to slow down anyway, so he left his flashers off. When Luke reached the post office, another buggy was already tied to the hitching post, so he pulled up beside it.

After climbing out, he tethered his horse, picked up the envelope from the passenger seat, and headed up the walk. With so many Amish in the area, he gave no thought of who might be inside until he swung open the post office door and saw her.

Susie was standing beside the counter with her mother, while a package was being weighed by the clerk. Turning, she saw him and quickly lowered her eyes. He thought for sure she would keep them there, but she must have caught something in his face because she looked up again.

He smiled at her. A smile he meant to convey meaning. This was his day. The Lord Himself must be smiling from the heavens for so many things to be going in his direction.

Susie blushed, the first time he had ever seen her do that. It made him feel like a man—like an important person. It was a feeling he liked very much. Stepping up to get in line, he held the envelope in front of him, still looking at her blushing face now turned away from him.

Her mother, a stout short woman whose brown hair showed no signs
of gray yet, turned around, apparently sensing his presence. “Hello, Luke,” she said with a smile. “We weren’t expecting to see you.”

“No,” he allowed, “I wasn’t planning on coming into town, but Emma wanted this envelope dropped off. She was afraid the mailman wouldn’t be making his rounds, what with the snow and all.”

“Must be important,” Nancy said, “to have to be mailed today.”

“I suppose so,” he told her, keeping the address covered with his arm. It was none of Nancy’s business whom Emma was writing to, and he would keep it that way.

He felt a great boldness come over him, and he wondered if all people with money felt like this. He looked in Susie’s direction, meeting her eyes, now turned toward him fully.

“Can I speak with Susie? Outside maybe?” he asked Nancy.

Nancy raised her eyebrows. “I suppose. The clerk isn’t done checking this in. Go on,” she replied and motioned to Susie.

As if frozen to the spot, Susie made efforts to become unthawed, her body moving slowly. Luke noticed it, his heart skipping a beat. He had never known that a girl could be so attractive. “We’ll be just a moment,” he said to her mother.

She nodded as if she understood.

Luke led the way, and Susie, finally thawed, followed. After they had walked a few feet outside, he stopped. Glancing ahead, he saw that no one was coming up the sidewalk, which was just perfect. It was as perfect as this day had started out to be, like the Lord God Himself was truly in it.

Susie was looking at him, questions in her eyes. He cleared his throat, a little nervous after all. “Can I take you home from the singing this Sunday?” he asked.

He felt like lowering his gaze as her cheeks distinctly gained color right in front of him. Her lips moved and her hand came up to her mouth. “Me?” she finally got out.

“Yes,” he said, feeling calmer, “I want to take you home. Will you?”

“Oh, yes!” she gushed, her tongue becoming unloosed too quickly,
too suddenly. Then she remembered she was an Amish girl. “I mean… yes…if Mother doesn’t object.”

“Do you have to ask her?” Luke asked.

“Well, no. Not really,” she said. “It’s just that I’m so surprised.”

“Okay…well, it’s a date? I’ll see you then.” He smiled at her again. “You know what my buggy looks like, don’t you?”

“Of course.” She was sorely flustered. “I mean. I can find it.”

“Sunday night,” he told her, raising his eyebrows, “after the singing.”

He turned to go back into the post office. As he turned his back and left her standing there on the sidewalk, Nancy was just coming out, and he held the door for her.

“Have a good day,” he told her in passing.

“And you,” she responded, wondering what had transpired until she looked at her daughter’s face. “He asked you,” she stated more than asked.

“Oh,
Mother,
” Susie whispered in awe, “can you believe it? I have wanted this for so very long. I was beginning to think it would never happen.”

“Just control yourself,” her mother said. “You have a long ways to go yet. This is just the first date. Trouble and love go hand in hand it seems. You just remember that.”

“But he
asked
me!” Susie placed her hand on her heart. “I can’t believe it.”

Nancy muttered something, which Susie was hardly listening to anyway. Luke watched them climb into the buggy, a smile on his face. So this was how it felt to be a man.

“Can I help you?” the clerk asked him, as if her voice was coming from a distance.

“Ah, yes.” He brought himself back sharply. “I need to mail this envelope. First class.”

Taking the brown envelope, the clerk carefully weighed it. “That will be four dollars and fifty cents.”

Luke fished in his pocket for the money, gave her the five dollars, and took the change. Emma would be expecting the fifty cents and a record of the transaction tomorrow, so he took the receipt and carefully placed it in his billfold. She liked things done that way, proper and in order.

T
here! That’s done.” Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief, turning off the gas oven. On the counter beside the window sat the six pecan pies, cooling and looking like inviting faces turned upward toward the world.

“Why did we make so many?” Mattie asked.

“It’s the way it turned out,” Rebecca told her. “You had a little extra dough, I think.”

“Ach! Lester can eat two himself,” Mattie said, justifying the matter.

“He has better sense than that,” Rebecca replied, confident in her father’s good judgment. “I suppose they can always be put to good use somewhere.”

Mattie chuckled. “How true.” She glanced toward the kitchen door. “I know what we can do with one. Take one and run it across the road to Edna’s. She doesn’t get out much, what with her arthritis and all. I’m sure she can use it.”

“But I have to help chore. It’s almost time for that.”

“I know. Go anyway. You’ll be back. If not quite in time, Matthew can help. He needs all the practice he can get, with you leaving on Saturday. Here, throw this to the chickens on the way out.”

Rebecca reached for the slop bucket after the pecan pie had been carefully placed in the plastic holder. Slipping on her heavy coat and boots, she stepped outside. Setting the pie holder gently on the ground, she used both hands to upend the slop bucket and pour its contents inside the wire chicken enclosure.

The chickens tried to dodge the falling pastries, then pranced back to greedily peck them from the ground. A few ended up with pastries on their backs and getting pecked, their indignant squawks adding a discordant sound to the beat of beaks on frozen ground.

Rebecca looked grimly at the ruckus, leaving the slop bucket set on the ground. The main road was already plowed when she got there, so it was an easy matter to walk the few hundred feet west to Edna’s driveway. The driveway had not been plowed yet, and Rebecca sunk into the snow. Her father, who normally cleared Edna’s driveway, must not have gotten to it yet.

Knocking on the door, Edna answered immediately, her smile radiant. “Oh my, I saw you coming, and I was sure you would never make it in all that snow,” she exclaimed, her black shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Still spry at seventy, Edna’s white hair was tucked tightly under her head covering, her shoulders stooped.

“Dad didn’t get to the driveway yet,” Rebecca commented, answering her smile.

“Yes. He has so many things to do. Harold would do it when he comes for chores. Though with only a shovel, it’s a little too much.”

“Dad’s glad to do it,” Rebecca assured her. “We’d even do your chores at times, if Harold can’t make it.”