Read Online Rebecca's Return by Jerry S. Eicher - Free Book Online

worst now. He simply waited.
    “I thought,” she said, pausing to clear her throat, “that perhaps there were some things—church things—that maybe I needed to get done.”
    His blood running cold at the sound of her words, he contemplated saying nothing, but that carried its own dangers. “Yes,” he managed, his lips tense.
    “Some things—little things, I guess. Maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about them.” She almost looked apologetic. “I just want to be prepared.”
    He nodded. Prepared for what? This road looked a little less dangerous than it had a few minutes ago. Maybe the woman is dying? Preparing for her own passing? He felt the stirrings of sympathy, concern, and then he remembered Mexico, and the feelings left. His fingers tightened on the newspaper, the printed columns completely going out of focus. “You’re not sick?” he asked as calmly as he could, turning toward her.
    She smiled, her face showing a trace of amusement. “No. I’m okay. At least on the outside. It’s the church that I’m concerned about.”
    He tilted his head, still looking at her.
    She seemed to take a slow breath. “There’s so much going on in the world today. You know—sin coming—pushing in when we least expect it. I’ve been thinking about that.”
    He still waited, saying nothing partly because he couldn’t get any words past his astonishment. She had never been the least concerned about any of this.
    “You have been working—on church matters,” she continued. “I know you care about it. I’ve been thinking. I don’t do as much as I should.”
    “Yes,” he said cautiously. It was true, but that thought might be dangerous territory too. She didn’t interfere in his deacon work, but neither was she one to be there to lend a hand either.
    “I might have some dresses—you know—that are a little too… well, pushing things.” She paused, as if waiting for his reaction.
    Whether she had or hadn’t, he couldn’t remember no matter how much he now tried. “I don’t know,” he managed, hoping it covered the bases.
    From the look on her face, this was apparently not the answer she was looking for. “The light blue one, for instance,” she said. “It’s a little formfitting, don’t you think? A little short too, for the church standard?” She was still looking intently at him.
    His mind was spinning wildly, but it was simply producing no memory of a light blue dress. “I hadn’t noticed,” he said.
    She wrinkled her brow. “I’ve been thinking about it. Communion is coming up. We really should be—at least I think so—be getting our house in order.”
    He shrugged, managing to say, “Of course—the church is always important.” Where is she going with this?
    “That’s just it,” she said. Her face brightening for the first time. “I want to do my part. For much too long—way too long—I haven’t done enough. Before communion, I will change that dress. Luke has some socks too. Those blue ones…”
    “But that’s allowed,” he said, in spite of himself.
    “I don’t know,” she told him. “Maybe blue, but these are pretty light. It would be better not to push the line, don’t you think?”
    “Of course,” he said. What else is there to say when a large part of my life’s work is to make sure these things do matter?
    “That needs to be changed.” She nodded. “Some other things too.”
    “Are you okay?” he finally asked her, relaxing a little. This could have been much worse. Sure, he told himself, that was a new leaf for her but familiar ground for me.
    “I need your help,” she said, ignoring his question.
    He felt himself stiffen again. “You need me ?”
    “Yes—for myself, of course. If you see something—out of order—I need to be told.”
    “I see,” he said, settling back into his chair, not seeing at all. This was a strange evening indeed.
    “We have to be pure, ” she said, getting up to go back to the kitchen. “We need all the help we can