words easily. “You saved a life by almost giving yours. Anyway,” he plucked up her white covering from where it had fallen on the floor, “Nobody will know about your hair except you, me, and your folks.”
“Courage,” she whispered to herself, trying out the word.
“Yep.” He stood up and sauntered to the window.
She watched how his lanky frame moved with such natural ease, like river water flowing over rocks and pebbles. In the soft, muted light of this early morn, he looked especially handsome. He crossed his arms and stared out the window, watching the sun rise in the misty morning sky.
“Not many grown men would have been able to do what you did.” Turning, he stared at her, his face serious. “Especially for a baby calf.”
“I thank God that sweet baby survived.”
Joseph’s eyes sparkled. “You want to see her?”
She nodded. Ignoring the bone-deep weariness that weighed her down like an anvil, she started to get out of bed.
Joseph waved both hands at her as he skipped sideways toward the door. “No, no, you stay there. I’ll be right back!”
Secretly glad at not having to get up and walk about, Rebekah sank back into her pillow and quilt, allowing her aching muscles to relax again.
I’ll leave my quilting ‘till later. The comfortable sounds of her brothers moving up and down the stairs had a lullaby effect, making her dizzy with exhaustion.
Joseph clomped in a moment later with Buttermilk nestled safely in his strong arms. This handsome man stood holding one of God’s most innocent creatures as though he would protect her from the world, should he have to. The sight was so moving that tears sprang up in her still-dry eyes, stinging them.
“B-b-b-l-l-l-e-e-e-h-h,” Buttermilk bleated.
A smile flicked the ends of her mouth upward. “She still doesn’t moo.”
Joseph’s voice was a whisper. “I told you she was alright.”
“I believed” Rebekah began. But when she looked at Joseph, his eyes were on Buttermilk, not her. He gently bounced the baby cow in his arms, reminiscent of how a young mother bounces a newborn babe. A scarlet heat crept up her neck.
Without warning, Rebekah’s mind switched gears. “I will miss Bible study at the Yoder’s today.” She had been looking forward to the impromptu gathering that had been planned the night before. “Their little puppy gets fluffier all the time.”
Buttermilk bleated again.
“Uh-oh, I believe she needs to be outside.” Joseph made it to the stairs in three long strides. “Rebekah, I’ll be downstairs helping your Pa with breakfast for the young ‘uns. He looked like he was having a hard time when I passed him a minute ago.”
“Thank you for taking care of me.” Her whisper hung in the empty room. Already gone, Joseph didn’t hear.
The gentle sounds of everyone going about their business in her childhood home rocked her, in her half-sleep state, much like a favorite rocking chair. She tried to pick out the sounds and guess who would be making them as sleep tugged at her eyelids.
There’s Jeremiah, he’s bringing in the milk, she thought. That was Thomas, he just ran into the doorframe. Her heart was light as bits of laughter from her Pa and Joseph floated up the stairs, and sleep found her, snug, warm, and safe, in her bed.
Rebekah woke with a start after closing her eyes for what felt like mere minutes. The sun though, told a different story. It appeared to be mid-afternoon and if she had been well, Rebekah would have already been up to her elbows in dough for dinner preparations.
A rogue noise sounded from outside. It wasn’t one of the comfortable sounds to which she had grown accustomed, it was a chattering pair of voices that didn’t belong outside her window. The weighted curtain of sleep vanished quickly as the voices carried on, growing louder as the heaviness left her ears.
“Joseph?” she wondered aloud. “Is that Joseph’s voice?” It was. But who was he talking to?
The song
“Courage,” she whispered to herself, trying out the word.
“Yep.” He stood up and sauntered to the window.
She watched how his lanky frame moved with such natural ease, like river water flowing over rocks and pebbles. In the soft, muted light of this early morn, he looked especially handsome. He crossed his arms and stared out the window, watching the sun rise in the misty morning sky.
“Not many grown men would have been able to do what you did.” Turning, he stared at her, his face serious. “Especially for a baby calf.”
“I thank God that sweet baby survived.”
Joseph’s eyes sparkled. “You want to see her?”
She nodded. Ignoring the bone-deep weariness that weighed her down like an anvil, she started to get out of bed.
Joseph waved both hands at her as he skipped sideways toward the door. “No, no, you stay there. I’ll be right back!”
Secretly glad at not having to get up and walk about, Rebekah sank back into her pillow and quilt, allowing her aching muscles to relax again.
I’ll leave my quilting ‘till later. The comfortable sounds of her brothers moving up and down the stairs had a lullaby effect, making her dizzy with exhaustion.
Joseph clomped in a moment later with Buttermilk nestled safely in his strong arms. This handsome man stood holding one of God’s most innocent creatures as though he would protect her from the world, should he have to. The sight was so moving that tears sprang up in her still-dry eyes, stinging them.
“B-b-b-l-l-l-e-e-e-h-h,” Buttermilk bleated.
A smile flicked the ends of her mouth upward. “She still doesn’t moo.”
Joseph’s voice was a whisper. “I told you she was alright.”
“I believed” Rebekah began. But when she looked at Joseph, his eyes were on Buttermilk, not her. He gently bounced the baby cow in his arms, reminiscent of how a young mother bounces a newborn babe. A scarlet heat crept up her neck.
Without warning, Rebekah’s mind switched gears. “I will miss Bible study at the Yoder’s today.” She had been looking forward to the impromptu gathering that had been planned the night before. “Their little puppy gets fluffier all the time.”
Buttermilk bleated again.
“Uh-oh, I believe she needs to be outside.” Joseph made it to the stairs in three long strides. “Rebekah, I’ll be downstairs helping your Pa with breakfast for the young ‘uns. He looked like he was having a hard time when I passed him a minute ago.”
“Thank you for taking care of me.” Her whisper hung in the empty room. Already gone, Joseph didn’t hear.
The gentle sounds of everyone going about their business in her childhood home rocked her, in her half-sleep state, much like a favorite rocking chair. She tried to pick out the sounds and guess who would be making them as sleep tugged at her eyelids.
There’s Jeremiah, he’s bringing in the milk, she thought. That was Thomas, he just ran into the doorframe. Her heart was light as bits of laughter from her Pa and Joseph floated up the stairs, and sleep found her, snug, warm, and safe, in her bed.
Rebekah woke with a start after closing her eyes for what felt like mere minutes. The sun though, told a different story. It appeared to be mid-afternoon and if she had been well, Rebekah would have already been up to her elbows in dough for dinner preparations.
A rogue noise sounded from outside. It wasn’t one of the comfortable sounds to which she had grown accustomed, it was a chattering pair of voices that didn’t belong outside her window. The weighted curtain of sleep vanished quickly as the voices carried on, growing louder as the heaviness left her ears.
“Joseph?” she wondered aloud. “Is that Joseph’s voice?” It was. But who was he talking to?
The song
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