Amish Redemption (Erotic Romance) (Amish Heart Trilogy) by Miranda Rush Page B
Authors: Miranda Rush
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to come.
Finally the church was full and the service began. The air conditioning had still not been attended to and the heat rose steadily from all the warm bodies in the church. Rebekah sat numbly. The preacher had spoken of life everlasting and was requesting her to come up and say a few words about Nick. It was the type of service she wanted for Nick, where some who loved him the most were invited to share something of what Nick meant to them. The minister had asked that she go first. While Rachel sat on Staci’s lap, Rebekah placed her crutches over the wheelchair arms and wheeled herself toward the podium. Her head swam.
Someone came forward to push her wheelchair for her and she cast them off with a cold, “I’m fine, thank you.” She did not want help. She wanted to hurt. She wanted to die but she couldn’t. Rachel still needed her, now more than ever.
Her speech was folded on the chair beside her thigh. Arriving at the podium, she pulled herself up on one crutch, holding the paper. The pain in her leg was immense. She had not taken pain pills, wanting to feel the pain, wanting to feel anything to replace the feeling of emptiness she now had with Nick gone. She looked up at the people assembled for Nick’s funeral. She and Staci had sent out invitations to everyone who knew Nick, and the church was filled with people in every seat and more were standing anywhere else there was room. It was stiflingly hot. She knew that a service where those who cared to speak about Nick were invited to do so was certain to be a long one. It was going to continue all day. She hadn’t minded that when planning the event with Staci; now she just wanted it to be over.
Her body was shaking, her head was burning up and her hands were icy. She looked down at the paper in her hand. It spoke of how goodhearted Nick was, of how much she loved him and would miss him. It spoke of how he was the perfect father and— oh God!— husband. She crumpled the paper up and threw it aside. Her mouth was dry as she spoke and her voice sounded too loud in the microphone. A swirling, buzzing feeling was starting in her head.
“I—I should have married him.” Her voice cracked. With that the darkness she had been holding back descended upon her, crumpling her body and whirling her blackly into oblivion.
***
She was seated beside Staci at the bar. Rebekah had repeated, “I’m fine” so many times to so many people that she wanted to scream. Each of Nick’s friends were going up to a microphone that had been set up and telling funny stories about Nick and drinking a toast to a large photograph of him that was on display. The picture showed the Nick she knew, sweet and intense.
She had suffered a broken left leg and broken ribs with a deflated left lung. She refused to be kept in the hospital longer than a day , saying Rachel needed her. Once at home, she slept on the couch, unable to bear her empty bed. She refused to take her pain medication, wanting to feel the pain. She just couldn’t believe he was really gone. It was easy to pretend he was late at work.
Staci had shown up while she was in the hospital and retrieved Rachel from the neighbor who was caring for her. Staci looked much like her brother, having his soft brown eyes and unruly curly hair. Her hair was dark, streaked with a lighter gold. Rebekah suspected that she bleached highlights into it. Despite the sadness of the recent events, Staci had an irrepressible good humor about her which Rebekah found irresistible.
She had brought Rachel to visit in the hospital. The two women had communicated on the phone and by email occasionally. This was their first face to face meeting. Taking a look around the room Staci wrinkled her nose with distaste and then said to Rebekah with a conspiratorial wink: “So, do you want to break out of here or what?” Rebekah knew they were going to be great
Finally the church was full and the service began. The air conditioning had still not been attended to and the heat rose steadily from all the warm bodies in the church. Rebekah sat numbly. The preacher had spoken of life everlasting and was requesting her to come up and say a few words about Nick. It was the type of service she wanted for Nick, where some who loved him the most were invited to share something of what Nick meant to them. The minister had asked that she go first. While Rachel sat on Staci’s lap, Rebekah placed her crutches over the wheelchair arms and wheeled herself toward the podium. Her head swam.
Someone came forward to push her wheelchair for her and she cast them off with a cold, “I’m fine, thank you.” She did not want help. She wanted to hurt. She wanted to die but she couldn’t. Rachel still needed her, now more than ever.
Her speech was folded on the chair beside her thigh. Arriving at the podium, she pulled herself up on one crutch, holding the paper. The pain in her leg was immense. She had not taken pain pills, wanting to feel the pain, wanting to feel anything to replace the feeling of emptiness she now had with Nick gone. She looked up at the people assembled for Nick’s funeral. She and Staci had sent out invitations to everyone who knew Nick, and the church was filled with people in every seat and more were standing anywhere else there was room. It was stiflingly hot. She knew that a service where those who cared to speak about Nick were invited to do so was certain to be a long one. It was going to continue all day. She hadn’t minded that when planning the event with Staci; now she just wanted it to be over.
Her body was shaking, her head was burning up and her hands were icy. She looked down at the paper in her hand. It spoke of how goodhearted Nick was, of how much she loved him and would miss him. It spoke of how he was the perfect father and— oh God!— husband. She crumpled the paper up and threw it aside. Her mouth was dry as she spoke and her voice sounded too loud in the microphone. A swirling, buzzing feeling was starting in her head.
“I—I should have married him.” Her voice cracked. With that the darkness she had been holding back descended upon her, crumpling her body and whirling her blackly into oblivion.
***
She was seated beside Staci at the bar. Rebekah had repeated, “I’m fine” so many times to so many people that she wanted to scream. Each of Nick’s friends were going up to a microphone that had been set up and telling funny stories about Nick and drinking a toast to a large photograph of him that was on display. The picture showed the Nick she knew, sweet and intense.
She had suffered a broken left leg and broken ribs with a deflated left lung. She refused to be kept in the hospital longer than a day , saying Rachel needed her. Once at home, she slept on the couch, unable to bear her empty bed. She refused to take her pain medication, wanting to feel the pain. She just couldn’t believe he was really gone. It was easy to pretend he was late at work.
Staci had shown up while she was in the hospital and retrieved Rachel from the neighbor who was caring for her. Staci looked much like her brother, having his soft brown eyes and unruly curly hair. Her hair was dark, streaked with a lighter gold. Rebekah suspected that she bleached highlights into it. Despite the sadness of the recent events, Staci had an irrepressible good humor about her which Rebekah found irresistible.
She had brought Rachel to visit in the hospital. The two women had communicated on the phone and by email occasionally. This was their first face to face meeting. Taking a look around the room Staci wrinkled her nose with distaste and then said to Rebekah with a conspiratorial wink: “So, do you want to break out of here or what?” Rebekah knew they were going to be great
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