“But, Daed, my friends—”
“Will see you on Saturday night as they always do.”
Muttering something, Timothy drove the buggy toward the barn.
Joshua watched until the vehicle was swallowed by the building’s shadow. Rebekah stood beside him, unsure if she should follow Deborah and Levi, who carried the bag she’d brought with a change of clothing for her and Sammy, into the house or remain by the man who was now her husband.
Husband! How long would it take her to get accustomed to the fact that she’d married Joshua? She was now Rebekah Mast Burkholder...Stoltzfus. Even connecting herself to him in her thoughts seemed impossible. She could have called a halt to the wedding plans right up until they’d exchanged vows. Reuben had given her that chance when he’d asked if everything was all right. Joshua had replied swiftly. Had he thought she might jilt him at the last minute?
“I’m sorry,” Joshua said, jerking her away from her unsettling thoughts.
“For what?”
“I’d hoped Timothy would want to spend time with his family this one day at least.” He looked down at Sammy. “He used to be as sweet as this little one.”
Rebekah didn’t know what to say. She started to put her hand on his arm to offer silent consolation. After pulling it back before she touched him, she locked her fingers in front of her. The easy camaraderie she’d felt for him was gone. Everything, even ordinary contact between friends, had changed with a few words. Nothing was casual any longer. Any word, any motion, any glance had taken on a deeper meaning.
Feeling as if she’d already disappointed him because she had said nothing, she followed him into the light green kitchen. Joshua turned on the propane floor lamp while Levi lit a kerosene lantern in the center of the table.
Again Rebekah was speechless, but this time with shock. Every flat surface, including the stove and the top of the refrigerator, was covered with stacks of dirty dishes. What looked to be a laundry basket was so full that the clothes had fallen into jumbled heaps around it. She couldn’t tell if the clothes were clean or dirty.
“Daedi cooked our breakfast,” Deborah said in a loud whisper beneath the hiss of the propane.
Joshua had the decency to look embarrassed as he set Sammy on the floor. Her son had woken as they’d stepped inside. “I meant to clean the house before you arrived, Rebekah, but I had a rush job yesterday, and then we had to get over to your house early today and...” He leaned one hand on the table, then yanked it away with a grimace.
Going to the sink beneath a large window, Rebekah dampened a dishrag. She took it to Joshua and as he wiped his hand off said, “You asked me to come back here tonight because you didn’t want me to have to straighten up at my house after such a long day. And then you brought me here to this?” She burst into laughter. Maybe it was fueled by exhaustion and the stress of pretending to be a happy bride. The whole situation was so ludicrous that if she didn’t laugh, she’d start weeping.
“I can see where you’d find that confusing,” he said as he glanced around the kitchen.
“Confusing?” More laughter erupted from her, and she pressed her hands over her belly. “Is that what you call this chaos?”
Deborah giggled. “Daedi always uses twice as many dishes and pans because he starts making one thing and ends up cooking something else entirely.”
“It’s usually because I don’t have one of the ingredients,” Joshua said, his lips twitching.
“Or you don’t remember the recipe,” Levi crowed.
“Ja, that’s true.” Joshua dropped the dishrag on the table and took off his best hat. “I can put a buggy together with my eyes closed—or near to that—but baking a casserole trips me up every time.”
Laughter filled the kitchen as everyone joined in.
Picking up the cloth, Rebekah put it on the sink. “I’ll face this in the morning.”
“A gut idea.” To his kinder, he said, “Off to bed with you.”
“Will you come up for our prayers?” Levi asked.
“Ja.”
Deborah took Sammy’s hand. “Komm upstairs with me.”
“No,” Rebekah and Joshua said at the same time.
The little girl halted, clearly wondering what she’d done wrong.
“I’ll put him to bed,” Rebekah added. “Everything is new to him. Sammy, why don’t you give Deborah and Levi hugs?”
The little boy, who was half asleep on his feet, nodded and complied.
“You’re my brother now.” Deborah’s smile brightened her whole face. “When we found out Daedi was going to marry you, Rebekah, I was happy. I’m not the boppli of the family any longer.”
“Sammy will be glad to have a big sister and big brothers.” She looked at Levi, who gave her a shy smile. Should she offer to hug the kinder, too?
Before she could decide, the back door opened. Timothy came in, bringing a puff of humid air with him. He glared at them, especially Joshua, before striding through the kitchen. His footsteps resounded on the stairs as he went up.
Rebekah saw Joshua’s eyes narrow. Timothy hadn’t spoken to her once. At sixteen he didn’t need a mamm, but perhaps he would come to see her as someone he could trust. Maybe even eventually as a friend.
Subdued, Deborah and Levi went out of the kitchen. Their footfalls were much softer on the stairs.
“I’m sorry,” Joshua said into the silence.
She scooped up Sammy and cradled him. “He’s a teenager. It’s not easy.”
“I realize that, but I hope you realize his rudeness isn’t aimed at you. It’s aimed at me.” He rubbed his hand along his jaw, then down his beard. “I don’t know how to handle him because I wasn’t a rebellious kid myself.”
“I wasn’t, either.”
“Too bad.” The twinkle returned to his eyes. “If you’d been, you might be able to give me some hints on dealing with him.”
She smiled at his teasing. He’d been someone she’d deemed a friend for years. She must—they must—make sure they didn’t lose that friendship as they navigated this strange path they’d promised to walk together.
Joshua pointed at her and put a finger to his lips. She looked down to see Sammy was once more asleep. Joshua motioned for her to come with him.
Rebekah followed him through the living room. It looked as it had the last time she had been there before Matilda died. The same furniture, the same paint, the same sewing machine in a corner. She glanced toward the front door. The same wooden clock that didn’t work. With a start she realized that under the piles of dishes and scattered clothing the kitchen was identical to when Matilda had been alive. It was as if time had stopped in this house with Matilda’s last breath.
Opening a door on the other side of the stairs, Joshua lit a lamp. The double bed was topped by a wild-goose-chase-patterned quilt done in cheerful shades of red and yellow and blue. He walked past it to a small bed his kinder must have used when they were Sammy’s age. Another pretty quilt, this one in the sunshine-and-shadow pattern done in blacks and grays and white, was spread across it. Drawing it back along with the sheet beneath it, he stepped aside so she could slip the little boy in without waking him.
She straightened and looked around. The bedroom was large. A tall bureau was set against the wall opposite the room’s two windows, and the bare floors shone with years of care. A quartet of pegs held a kapp, a dusty black bonnet and a straw hat. She wasn’t surprised when Joshua placed his gut hat on the empty peg.
This must have been Joshua