her thistle, and to hide her smile. “Actually, Pa and I made the pies this year. Ma wasn’t feeling up to it just yet.”
“I thought they tasted a little extra-cinnamony.” Joseph bent and scooped up a rock. “I must say Rebekah; you certainly got all of her skill in the kitchen.” He gave the rock a fling into the woods. It thunked against a tree. “All of it and then some.”
“You’re awfully complimentary tonight, Joseph Graber.”
He grinned. “Could you get used to it?”
“Maybe,” Rebekah retorted, returning his mischievous smile.
Something bumped her hand. “Oh!”
“What is it?”
“Something bumped me!” She shuddered.
“Something like this?” Under the cover of darkness, Joseph’s hand bumped hers again. This time though, his fingers twined around hers, linking them together.
A wave of shyness swept over her, leaving her hand trembling and her stomach knotted. How she’d dreamt of the day when he would take her hand in his, or even brush against her. In her daydreams, it was always wonderful. But this moment left her daydreams all behind.
“Looks like your folks set the lanterns out for you,” Joseph observed. “Was a shame they had to leave the festival early.”
Though she wanted to respond and continue the jovial conversation with Joseph, who was obviously now her beau, she didn’t trust her own tongue just yet.
Indifferent to her lack of words, Joseph continued. “Suppose Elnora didn’t want little Beanie Bull to catch a chill.” Finishing his theory just as they reached the porch, Joseph pulled Rebekah close, their hands still intertwined. His other hand was hidden away in his far pocket. The lamplight glinted off his eyes, making them appear to be nothing more than a sea of azure sparkles.
“Rebekah, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.” The resolve in Joseph’s strong voice wavered. “It’s no secret–”
Something cracked from the understory. Joseph froze and both he and Rebekah swiveled their heads in the direction of the noise.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?” Slowly, Peter emerged from the woods.
Joseph squared his shoulders at the perceived threat. “Now’s not the appropriate time to come for your wagon.”
A sliver of ice slid down Rebekah’s backbone at Joseph’s tone. Had she been a man, she would have backed off. As things were though, she felt in awfully capable hands.
Peter leaned and spit as he stepped nearer to them. “I’m not here for the wagon just now. I’m not here for you either.” His spurs jangled and a swift breeze blew back his duster, revealing the shiny pistols.
Joseph slipped his hand from Rebekah’s, which had grown suddenly sweaty. She linked them behind her back and shrank behind Joseph.
“Then I don’t see as you having any business here at this hour.” Had Joseph been a cat, his tail would have been bottle-brushy.
Ignoring him, Peter shifted his steely stare to Rebekah. “I need to speak with you.”
Rebekah shook her head infinitesimally.
“It’s important.”
The door to the house squeaked open. “ Hallo , Peter. Did I hear you mention you needed to speak with my daughter?” Samuel rested his hands with his thumbs on the inside of his black braces.
“Yes Sir.”
Samuel nodded. “I see. However it is much too late and, Rebekah, you should be getting on to bed. Joseph, you come in, too. Your Pa is here.” Samuel motioned toward the door. “Peter, won’t you come back in the morning? Breakfast is at six. You can talk to Rebekah about what’s on your mind then.”
Peter nodded. “I’ll be back then.” He spit a brown stream into the yard.
“Joseph, your Pa is in the sitting room. He figured you’d walk Rebekah home and may like a ride to your place.” Samuel’s voice was untelling of any nervousness he may have been feeling. Rebekah’s wasn’t.
“Goodnight, Joseph. Thank you again for a wonderful evening.” She tried not to bite off her farewell,
“I thought they tasted a little extra-cinnamony.” Joseph bent and scooped up a rock. “I must say Rebekah; you certainly got all of her skill in the kitchen.” He gave the rock a fling into the woods. It thunked against a tree. “All of it and then some.”
“You’re awfully complimentary tonight, Joseph Graber.”
He grinned. “Could you get used to it?”
“Maybe,” Rebekah retorted, returning his mischievous smile.
Something bumped her hand. “Oh!”
“What is it?”
“Something bumped me!” She shuddered.
“Something like this?” Under the cover of darkness, Joseph’s hand bumped hers again. This time though, his fingers twined around hers, linking them together.
A wave of shyness swept over her, leaving her hand trembling and her stomach knotted. How she’d dreamt of the day when he would take her hand in his, or even brush against her. In her daydreams, it was always wonderful. But this moment left her daydreams all behind.
“Looks like your folks set the lanterns out for you,” Joseph observed. “Was a shame they had to leave the festival early.”
Though she wanted to respond and continue the jovial conversation with Joseph, who was obviously now her beau, she didn’t trust her own tongue just yet.
Indifferent to her lack of words, Joseph continued. “Suppose Elnora didn’t want little Beanie Bull to catch a chill.” Finishing his theory just as they reached the porch, Joseph pulled Rebekah close, their hands still intertwined. His other hand was hidden away in his far pocket. The lamplight glinted off his eyes, making them appear to be nothing more than a sea of azure sparkles.
“Rebekah, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.” The resolve in Joseph’s strong voice wavered. “It’s no secret–”
Something cracked from the understory. Joseph froze and both he and Rebekah swiveled their heads in the direction of the noise.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?” Slowly, Peter emerged from the woods.
Joseph squared his shoulders at the perceived threat. “Now’s not the appropriate time to come for your wagon.”
A sliver of ice slid down Rebekah’s backbone at Joseph’s tone. Had she been a man, she would have backed off. As things were though, she felt in awfully capable hands.
Peter leaned and spit as he stepped nearer to them. “I’m not here for the wagon just now. I’m not here for you either.” His spurs jangled and a swift breeze blew back his duster, revealing the shiny pistols.
Joseph slipped his hand from Rebekah’s, which had grown suddenly sweaty. She linked them behind her back and shrank behind Joseph.
“Then I don’t see as you having any business here at this hour.” Had Joseph been a cat, his tail would have been bottle-brushy.
Ignoring him, Peter shifted his steely stare to Rebekah. “I need to speak with you.”
Rebekah shook her head infinitesimally.
“It’s important.”
The door to the house squeaked open. “ Hallo , Peter. Did I hear you mention you needed to speak with my daughter?” Samuel rested his hands with his thumbs on the inside of his black braces.
“Yes Sir.”
Samuel nodded. “I see. However it is much too late and, Rebekah, you should be getting on to bed. Joseph, you come in, too. Your Pa is here.” Samuel motioned toward the door. “Peter, won’t you come back in the morning? Breakfast is at six. You can talk to Rebekah about what’s on your mind then.”
Peter nodded. “I’ll be back then.” He spit a brown stream into the yard.
“Joseph, your Pa is in the sitting room. He figured you’d walk Rebekah home and may like a ride to your place.” Samuel’s voice was untelling of any nervousness he may have been feeling. Rebekah’s wasn’t.
“Goodnight, Joseph. Thank you again for a wonderful evening.” She tried not to bite off her farewell,
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