Rebecca's Choice Read Online Free PDF Page A

hitch up the young driving horse.
    “Be careful,” he lectured, when she got into the buggy. Already Matthew felt his brotherly superiority, even though he was much younger than she was. “John isn’t worth landing in the ditch for.”
    “Yes he is,” she told him, risking the draw of one of his arguments. Matthew could be an irritation at times. He was, she had to admit, a smart looking fellow, even if he was her brother.
    “Good someone thinks so.” He chuckled wickedly and let go of the bridle as the young horse took off with a snap of the tugs.
    Rebecca hung onto the reins. She knew from past experience the horse would calm down once it was on the open road. True to her expectation, it took the turn at the bridge a little slower and then trotted along nicely by the time they rattled across the Harshville covered bridge.
    In the climb out of the little settlement, on the grade toward Unity, the young horse calmed down even more. So much that once in town, she had to slap the reins to hurry it up. Shaking its head in protest, it increased its speed.
    Rebecca liked the horse except for its habit of shying away from things, which required her to keep a sharp eye out. Being alert to the unexpected was a good idea in any case, she figured. At the Miller’s lane, she pulled left and tied up by the barn.
    Because no one was around and a light was on in the house, she assumed Isaac and Miriam would be in the living room. John was probably upstairs in his room because their supper would be over by this time too.
    When she knocked on the door, Miriam opened it. Taking a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light, she recognized Rebecca and opened the door wide.
    “Oh, it’s Rebecca,” she said. “Do come in. John is upstairs.”
    “You out alone?” Isaac hollered from his rocker, as Rebecca stepped inside. Isaac’s chest length beard was fully white, his face beamed with good cheer.
    “It’s not too late,” she told him with a smile. “I have a good horse.”
    “Mattie’s was lame today,” Miriam commented. “I think someone looked after it at the sewing.”
    “Yes, they did,” Rebecca nodded and glanced toward the stair door. She didn’t really want to go to John’s room. They went there on Sunday afternoons sometimes, but after dark seemed another matter.
    “You want to talk with John?” Miriam asked, which really didn’t help much.
    “Thought I’d see if he was going to Emma’s funeral,” Rebecca offered.
    “Call the boy,” Isaac said from his rocker, for which Rebecca was deeply grateful. “Tell him to get his tail down here.”
    As if he heard, the stair door opened and John stuck his head out. “Oh,” he said sheepishly, “so this is what the fuss is all about. I thought I heard someone drive in.”
    “Worth making a fuss over, isn’t it?” Isaac asked.
    Rebecca laughed at the remark and at John, whose shirttail was untucked and suspenders hung down nearly to his bare toes.
    “I suppose so.” John’s smile was broad. It warmed her heart. “Always is,” he added and walked over to the kitchen table. He pulled a chair out for her, then sat down himself.
    Rebecca took it. Miriam returned to the living room, and Isaac lifted his magazine and continued reading.
    “Emma’s funeral,” she said meeting his eyes. “You going?”
    “No,” he said shaking his head, “Mom and Dad are. Aden needs help at the store. Sharon might go along.”
    “Thought we could ride in the same van, if you were,” she said as explanation. “I’m definitely going.”
    He nodded. “I could have sent word too. Would have, if I were going.”
    “I figured,” she said and met his eyes again. “I just wanted to let you know I was going.”
    “I’m that special?” he teased. “You come all the way over here for that?”
    “Shhh…” she whispered. “Yes, of course you are.”
    “You wouldn’t have had to,” he said soberly. “It’s sweet, though.”
    “Rebecca hoped her cheeks didn’t