Rebecca's Promise Read Online Free PDF Page B

Obviously she wanted him to follow suit, so he did, feeling the weight of the effort quickly tire his arm. He wondered what she was doing carrying two of these at the same time.
    As if in answer, she said, “I wouldn’t have brought out two if you hadn’t been here. They can’t touch the ground outside the milk house. Cleanliness issue.”
    He nodded. “What time did you say the milking starts?”
    “Five sharp,” she said. “The cows should be coming in any minute now.”
    The sound of the approaching cows confirmed her words. As Lester came into the barn, he smiled at the sight of John in his oversized chore clothing and asked the two, “Ready to start?”
    Rebecca grinned, noticing the reason for her father’s smile, and nodded her head. Lester opened the door to the outside barnyard. The first cow stuck her head in, looked around as if deciding what to do, then proceeded forward, nervously glancing about.
    Standing motionless and staring intently at the advancing cow, John missed the exchange between daughter and father. The cow overcame whatever contrary thoughts it had as soon as it caught sight of the feed John had shoveled out. Lifting its head, the cow headed for the closest station. Rebecca was ready and pushed the two side rods together as the cow stuck its head through the stanchion. The metal snapping closed around its neck caused no reaction, its nose deep intothe shovel of feed. The cow munched contentedly, its eyes looking at nothing and glazed over in contentment.
    The other cows lost no time following suit. Lester counted under his breath until sixteen had entered, then he slapped the next cow in line on its nose to keep it from entering. “There now, Bess,” he said, “next time’s for you.”
    “Cows never listen,” Rebecca said, standing at John’s elbow. “You have to give direction.”
    She turned to reach for the milker on the overhead line and then stepped back, moving away from the cow. The switch of its tail almost caught her in the face.
    “Missed,” she muttered under her breath. “Try harder next time.”
    John had to chuckle. “It’s not on purpose, is it?”
    “Maniacal things. Cow brains,” she retorted. “You never know sometimes.”
    He laughed, the sound vibrating in the enclosed milking parlor. She turned toward it. There weren’t too many times she’d heard him laugh out loud, and each time her reaction had been the same. It was as a man’s laugh should be—delightful, serious, and yet merry to the soul.
    Her smile warmed his heart when he saw it.
    “Ah,” he cleared his throat, “how long does it take to milk?”
    Her smile deepened. He was trying to change the subject, and she now knew why. It was because he cared for her, deeply cared for her. She let the thought linger as he was looking the other way, seeming to be watching the milkers doing their jobs.
    “We should be done by a quarter after six,” she told him, with her smile still lingering. “Supper’s right after that. Mother makes a wonderful supper.”
    “I suppose she does,” he allowed. “Passed the training on to you?”
    She grinned. “Of course.”

C HAPTER S IX
     

     
    U nder the hiss of a gas lantern, the family gathered in the dining room for the evening meal. Another lantern hung in the kitchen and one more was glowing in the living room. Except for the rooms here and there with kerosene lamps burning, the house was dark.
    “Thanks for helping us tonight,” Lester told John from across the table.
    “It was nothing,” John assured him, both because that was the proper thing to say and because of his interest in Rebecca. “I just shoveled a little feed,” he added. “Not enough to work up much of a sweat.”
    “Well, it’s Sunday,” Lester allowed. “Where’s Mother? I’m hungry.”
    “Coming,” Rebecca told him.
    Mattie appeared in the kitchen doorway carrying a bowl of steaming gravy. She set the bowl carefully on the table and warned, “Don’t touch it just