Rebecca's Hope

by Kimberly Grist

  Rebecca cleared the small stacks of material from the window as Lois remained silent, deep in thought.

  “The only thing I have close to what you are talking about is the dresses we have been working on for you and Sam’s girls.”

  “That’s perfect.” While you are at it, is there a way to add the shirt I was making for Sam?”

  Lois stopped and took a long look at Rebecca, her mouth turning into a frown. “Now hold on a minute. You want me to use the outfits you have been working on, fretting over, and planning to use for your wedding? You want me to put them out as though they are for sale?”

  Rebecca turned her face from Lois. “Sam and I haven’t been getting on so good. I think he has changed his mind about the wedding. He has been using me as his babysitter, his housekeeper, and let’s not forget my horse is in his barn.”

  “Now listen here, Rebecca Leah Towns, you know good, and well he would never do that. He is too fine a man. Knowing you like I do, I doubt he ever asked you to do any of those things; you did it because you wanted to help. Although it is a wonderful trait, loving people the way you do, I can see how you could get carried away and take on too much.”

  Rebecca smiled at the use of the town’s nickname for her. Although she was born Rebecca Leah Mueller, she earned the nickname of Towns, by tagging along with her guardian as he went about his business dealings. Because there were so few children in the town, the original settlers adopted her in their hearts and insisted they be called Papa too. The town barber, also the mayor, took the opportunity to make a speech. He declared her the town’s child to be affectionately known henceforth as Rebecca Leah Towns.

  Lois’s eyebrows drew together, and she wagged her finger at Rebecca. “And if my memory serves me correctly, wasn’t it you who suggested he keep your horse? Didn’t that help you both, so you wouldn’t have to board him at the livery?”

  Rebecca nodded. “You are right. But I don’t know anything about courting. I’ve never even had a beau, before Sam. Even so, I do know people are supposed to like one another, to want to spend time with each other. Sam pays Emma to do some housekeeping for him, so on my day off I try to help her with his house cleaning and cooking Molly usually does. But no matter what I do, it doesn’t seem to make him happy.”

  Lois tapped her finger across her cheek. “Rebecca, do you think you might be trying too hard?”

  Rebecca sighed. “When Sam’s girls get home from school they go to Molly’s. I feel like I need to help since Doc told her to stay off her feet. I’ve been showing them little things they can do throughout the week to keep the house picked up, how to mend, do the wash and such. I know the girls have enjoyed the time I spend with them.”

  “What about spending time with each other? I thought that was what y'all were doing on your day off at Molly’s?”

  Chapter 3

  Dear Papa,

  Aunt Eloise says we should focus on Psalms 46:10, “Be still and know that I am God.”

  Every time I try to do that I fall asleep…

  Rebecca claimed the day she went to visit Molly and Adam was always her favorite time of the week. Molly was like a big sister. Her stepchildren, Seth and Emma, were Rebecca’s best friends since she had come to live with her guardians.

  Everything about the German style farmhouse was the epitome of home to Rebecca, with its large front porch and twelve-foot ceiling in the center hall which made the most of any breeze. The front rooms were painted in bright turquoise with longleaf pine floors. The kitchen had its own open hearth, and it was Rebecca’s favorite place to be. Emma found that funny, noting her favorite room was anywhere but the kitchen.

  Molly sat at the table peeling potatoes, as Rebecca shared a recipe. “At suppertime, peel the potatoes and boil until they are tender, drain and set the water aside until it is lukewarm. Next, add one pint of soft yeast to the flour and keep warm. Before you go to bed wet it a little, knead the dough and let it rise. Emma, it would get you out of the kitchen a little quicker.”

  Emma shook her wooden spoon directly at Rebecca. “The one thing I like about your recipe is the part about getting me out of the kitchen. I absolutely hate everything to do with cooking, especially baking.”

  Molly smiled as she studied both young women. “For you girls to be such good friends you sure are different. If Rebecca could have her way, she would bake everything into a pie.”

  “You are not going to get any argument from me, especially when it comes to making the most of leftovers. Besides, everything tastes better in a crust.”

  Molly rubbed her belly and sighed. “What I wouldn’t do for some fried chicken though. If I sit here and watch while you are cooking, I believe you can make a success of it. I wish you would give it a try, Rebecca.”

  “You better, Rebecca. I’ve heard it said if you want to find a husband you better know how to fry chicken,” Emma joked.

  “Well, I guess my husband will have to settle for chicken and dumplings.”

  Molly laughed so hard she wiped tears from her eyes. “The solution of course is we will have to live close by so Rebecca can do all the baking. I will do the cooking while Emma sticks to gardening.”

  Rebecca stared into the distance and sighed. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? What I miss the most about living at the boarding house is not only your companionship but the sense of belonging and contentment I have when I am here.”

  “That settles things, Molly, looks like you and Pa will be stuck with us forever,” Emma said.

  Reaching for Emma’s hand to assist, Molly pulled herself from her chair. “That would suit me and your Pa fine, but something tells me you girls will change your mind and settle in your own homes soon enough.”

  “Which reminds me, Sam’s girls have been awfully quiet. Emma, would you mind going and seeing what they are up to?”

  Emma grinned as she took off her apron. “Sure, Rebecca will take it from here while I handle what I do best when I get back, setting the table.”

  Still amused at their conversation, Rebecca spooned gravy over the roasted meat and placed it back in the oven. She smiled at Molly as she inhaled the aroma with appreciation.

  “Rebecca, there is a favor I need to ask. Remember after Horace died how you were a bit melancholy? I kept coming up with things for you to do to keep you busy.”

  Rebecca stopped her work and took note of Molly’s expression. “Yes, I remember. I am thankful for your intervention.”

  “If I hadn’t begged you to help me with Sam’s girls I would be at my wit's end. Never in a month of Sundays would I have expected to have such problems with two little girls. If you gave me even a small portion of that kind of trouble, I never would have taken the job Horace offered, to look after you. I don’t care how much it paid.”

  Rebecca giggled, “I do remember how you begged me to teach the girls their letters, so they wouldn’t completely terrorize their teacher when they started school. It was the first time I laughed in weeks.”

  Molly studied Rebecca’s reaction as she ran her hands through her hair and twisted it efficiently into a bun. “I don’t want you to think I am coming up with a list of things to keep you busy. Although, I really could use help with the girls again, while Sam works on his saddle orders in the evenings. Doc wants me to stay off my feet as much as possible, so by the time I finish supper, Adam rushes me to bed. That leaves the girls with too much time on their hands, and what one doesn’t think of, the other will. I was hoping you could come up with something to keep them occupied in the evenings.”

  Rebecca tapped her finger along her cheek as she considered Molly’s request. “I may have the very thing. Lois let me have some more remnant fabric. I was hoping you could help me to lay it out in a way to have enough for both girls to have another new outfit. I could give them something to practice their stitching on while we work on it. We can have them start making things for your babies as well. What do you think?”

  Molly laughed. “I think the busier those girls�
�� hands are, the better. But another dress? This will be the third one you’ve made for them in recent weeks.”

  Rebecca clapped her hands together. “That reminds me, I finished the pink and blue calico. The girls will look so beautiful in them.” Noting the furrowed brow on Emma’s face, Rebecca said, “Now don’t give me that look. As you well know, the first set was made from feed sacks, and the other two were made from remnant material. Besides, I didn’t pay for the fabric. Lois traded it for some of the work I am helping her with at the shop.”

  Molly rested her clasped fingers over her expanding belly. “Is there no remnant fabric you can pick for yourself?”

  “No. Most of the leftover cloth is in small quantities. But you will be happy to know Lois is working on a couple of new blouses for me.”

  Molly reached for Rebecca’s hand. “I wouldn’t hurt your feelings for the world. However, what you have on now needs to go straight to the rag bag. Why don’t you look in my trunk to see what you can find? There is a blue dress I can’t imagine ever being able to fit in again, and it would be too short for Emma. I’ll keep an eye on dinner while you go get it.”

  Rebecca leaned forward and hugged Molly. The door slammed. Emma entered red-faced, followed by the twins who were dripping in mud, discharging a terrible odor.

  Rebecca gasped. “Girls, what in the world?”

  Emma’s lips pressed together, and her nostrils flared. “In case you can’t tell from the smell, these young ladies have been in the pig pen.”

  Rebecca suppressed a laugh. Most days it was difficult to tell one child from the other, but now as they stood covered in mud, their hair plastered to their heads, it was impossible. “Sadie and Grace, your Pa told you not to go in the pig pen. Why would you do such a thing?”

  Both girls glanced at the floor and then looked at each other. With a nod, the child she believed was Grace, answered. “The pigs looked lonely. Besides, we didn’t exactly go in the pig pen, at least not on purpose.”

  Do pigs get lonely? Rebecca put her hands on her hips. “Girls, which one of you is going to give me a straight answer?”

  “I thought that was pretty straight,” the other twin answered.

  Rebecca sighed, then changed tactics. “Sadie, you first, start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”

  Sadie waved her hands expressively. “We’ve been teaching the pigs tricks. You know like to sit and spin around.”

  Grace nodded. “Like Pa taught the Mama dog.”

  Rebecca glanced at Molly, who covered her mouth with her hand. I obviously have a lot to learn about children and pigs. “Isn’t that disobeying your pa?”

  Sadie crossed her arms. “No, we simply call them over, reach in and get one.”

  Grace smiled widely, the white of her teeth in contrast to the mud on her face. “They like it. That’s why they come when we call.”

  Rebecca’s mouth twitched as she extended her hand in an appeal to Molly.

  “Girls, you can discuss this more with your pa. Right now, you best get to the creek and wash. If you hurry, you can be clean as a whistle before dinner. Emma and Rebecca, why don’t y'all take some clean clothes and go with them? A dip in the creek would be perfect on a hot day like this.”

  “I think I am going to take you up on your offer of the blue dress,” Rebecca said.

  Molly’s face took on a green hue. She waved one hand over her wrinkled nose. “Please do and be quick about it.”

  Rebecca grabbed the girls’ new dresses, clean undergarments, and towels from the laundry basket, while Emma hurried to get soap and a hairbrush. Once outside they walked in a leisurely pace toward the creek; the girls ran ahead and waded into the water.

  Rebecca and Emma followed, slowly inching their way into the placid pool. Taking advantage of the opportunity to bathe and relax, they allowed the girls the chance to play before they washed their hair. Rebecca felt clean and fresh as Emma brushed out her wet locks.

  “I’ll finish up with the twins while you go ahead back to the house. That way you can spend a little time with Sam before dinner.”

  Chapter 4

  Dear Papa,

  Papa Horace said I am pretty. Aunt Eloise says pretty is as pretty does. I am confused about that…

  Rebecca passed Sam’s house, formerly a foreman’s cabin made of logs cross-stacked at the corners, with spaces filled with clay and lime mortar. She smiled and took note of the swing on the front porch, where she and Sam spent time talking and getting to know one another. Her mind traveled back, to the first time they met. He’d come to help Adam with the ranch after his wife passed away from diphtheria. Sam was a saddle maker who raised horses and cattle dogs.

  Rebecca hesitated, enjoying a slight breeze, a relief from the humidity. Running her hand through her wet hair, she paused and allowed memories to flood her mind. She and Emma had spent all day with the girls, and they were sitting on the porch swing awaiting their father’s arrival. Grace and Sadie, dressed in their nightgowns and robes, still smelling of soap, chatted about how their father took time to draw them a story at bedtime. Confused, Rebecca sought clarification. “Do you mean, he reads you a story?”

  Captivated by the girls’ description, she looked forward to taking part in their bedtime routine during her visits and every Saturday night. Sam’s sketches were often beautiful and humorous. Her favorite was one inspired by Grace’s bad dream about a wolf at school. Recalling her own nightmares that replayed a traumatic event and injury to her hand, Rebecca shared her concern for Grace with Sam. He responded by telling funny stories about a wolf dressed in overalls. Sam sketched the wolf obediently sitting at his desk, hands up ready to answer the teacher’s questions. Both girls laughed hysterically, and there had been no further incidents.

  Their friendship blossomed, and on Rebecca’s eighteenth birthday, he asked her to marry him.

  She’d been sitting on a large boulder in front of the split rail fence, staring at the stunning display of wildflowers and inhaling their sweet scent. She remembered watching a longhorn steer lying in the beautiful pasture, seemingly unaffected by the beauty of the field. “I wonder why the cattle don’t eat the bluebonnets?”

  Sam paused his sketching and adjusted his hat, taking in the scene. “Don’t rightly know. My ma always said it is because they were too pretty to eat. But from the looks of him, I’d say he couldn’t care less. Now hold still, I want to make the most of this appealing picture.”

  Rebecca teased, “You mean of the flowers or the steer laying there?”

  Flipping his sketch pad closed, Sam walked to Rebecca and lifted her to the ground. “If you must know, missy, I wasn’t paying a bit of attention to anything but you and that sunset.” Pausing, he looked to the field. “Although, since you bring it up, he does seem to be a willing model. He sits real still too. I don’t believe he’s moved a muscle.”

  Rebecca put her hand on her backside and laughed. “I’m sorry, Sam, but that stone was far from comfortable. But I will sit again if you need me to.”

  Sam put his arm around Rebecca’s waist and guided her toward the house, calling for his daughters, “Girls, come on in now, it’s time to get ready for bed.”

  Sam paused and took Rebecca’s hand. “Don’t worry about sitting again; the time got away from me. I didn’t realize I had you up there so long. I wish you’d said something sooner.”

  Sam leaned closer to Rebecca, his lips parted.

  “Pa, make her stop,” Grace cried, her squeal interrupting before a much-desired kiss could happen.

  “You were the one who wanted me to catch him,” Sadie answered.

  Rebecca suppressed a giggle behind her hand as she watched Sadie push a large toad toward her sister. Sam chuckled, then called for both girls to calm down. “Sadie, let the toad loose. Grace, for goodness sakes, quit squealing.”

  “But Pa, I worked so hard to catch him,” Sadie said with a quivering lip.

  Sam knelt beside both girls. “Well, I imagine so. That is
a mighty fine toad. But I bet he is missing his friends and family about now, don’t you? Why don’t y’all both go and put him back close to where you found him and then get on to the house. It's about time to get ready for bed.”

  Sadie's eyebrows drew together, but she nodded in response. “Alright, Pa. Can I pick the story tonight?”

  Grace gasped. “Sadie, you know good and well tonight Pa’s going to draw us a story about Rebecca when she was little. Ain’t that right, Pa?”

  “That’s right. Now you girls best get to it, or there won't be time for anything but your prayers.”

  Sam and Rebecca watched the twins hurry to restore the toad and return to the house. Turning toward her, Sam swallowed. His blue eyes widened, as he wrapped his finger around a strand of her hair. The sound of the windmill turning seemed to keep time with the beating of Rebecca’s heart as Sam’s lips met hers. “I love you,” he whispered.

  Dropping to his knees, he took her hand. “Will you marry me?”

  Gasping, Rebecca covered her hand with her mouth.

  Still kneeling, Sam cleared his throat, “So what do you say? You’d make me a happy man if you’d answer yes.”

  Rebecca, wide-eyed, nodded in agreement. Her hand shook as Sam placed a ring on her third finger. It was a Georgian style gold ring set with a lovely deep flat red stone. “Oh, Sam, it’s beautiful.”

  Sam stood and reached for Rebecca’s left hand. “They say a garnet is the symbol of purity and love.”

  Rebecca stared into Sam’s eyes. “I love you too. I can’t wait to become your wife and a mother to your girls.”

  Now as she approached the barn, Rebecca could hear the squeak and groan of the windmill; the sound reminded her of the promise of a future with Sam. She was disappointed when two months ago, he postponed the wedding, stating the need to earn enough funds to pay his portion of the taxes.