Free Rebecca's Promise by Jerry S. Eicher Page B

again this afternoon, I’ll do it myself.”
    That she was capable of it, he well knew and turned to leave. Then he remembered his mother’s concerns and cleared his throat. “Was there trouble with the cattle prices the other day?”
    She looked at him sharply. “Why do you ask that?”
    “Oh,” he said offhandedly, as if it were of no great matter, “it’s just that I noticed a big car in front of the house last week.”
    “No,” she said, “it had nothing to do with the cattle. The markets are good right now. We hope they stay so. Your father probably knows that too.” She looked questioningly at him before continuing. “It was just someone I asked to come out.”
    “I see,” he said.
    “You’ll see that the envelope gets right in,” she reminded him, turning her chair back toward the desk again.
    Knowing he was dismissed, he turned to leave. Walking out to his buggy, he placed the envelope on the front seat, shaking off the snow from the brown paper before setting it down.
    It was then that the address caught his eye. Carefully he gave the envelope a half turn to get a better look. Reading out loud, he sounded out the words, “Bridgeway & Broadmount, Attorneys at Law, 1058 Bridge Street, Suite A, Anderson, Indiana.”
    For the first time, a twinge of fear ran up his spine.
Maybe Mom was right. But what could it mean? It was a lawyer’s office alright, and Emma must have real business with them. Yes,
he told himself, the snow swirling around his head through the buggy door,
she no doubt did. Surely it was nothing serious.
    Then why go to Anderson for an attorney?
There were good lawyers in Ridgeway and even one in Milroy. It would have to be left for his mother to figure out, he supposed. His job was to deliver the letter for Emma safely to the post office. That was what she paid him to do.
    Then the thought occurred to him,
Open the envelope. See what’s in it.
    I can’t,
he told himself,
it’s not honest. Emma trusts me, and I won’t break that.
    But what about what your mother wants? There might be money involved in it for you too,
the voice whispered.
    I don’t know that,
he told himself. The word “money” kept going through his head, an image of green bills slowly growing with each passing second. In moments he saw pockets full of it, then buildings full of it, money hanging out of the windows and doors.
    He shook his head to make the vision go away. The falling snowflakes came back into focus, and he took a deep breath. “I have to clean the driveway,” he told himself out loud, pushing the sight of the envelope from his mind and turning to move his eyes away from it.
    He climbed down from the buggy and walked over to the New Holland, turned the key, waited for the warm-up to complete, and then finished turning the key. The machine roared to life, shutting out any thoughts of money and the envelope.

C HAPTER E LEVEN
     

     
    A fter the breakfast dishes were cleaned up and the house was put in order for the day, Rebecca knew what she had to do. She headed upstairs to her room, shut the door, and turned the lock. There was no one home, but she wanted her privacy. She had to think this thing through. There simply had to be some way of coming to terms with the fear that had come upon her yesterday before John proposed.
    Walking to the window, she drew the blind. For some reason the darkness of the room made her feel safer. Then she lay gently on the bed and began to think—and remember.
    It had been no more than a schoolgirl crush.
That’s what she had decided it was.
Why then couldn’t I just let it go? Surely Atlee wouldn’t really expect me to keep my promise.
She had John now. She
loved
John.
    Then it came to her.
It was the love for John that had brought back feelings I had thought I had forgotten—a schoolgirl’s desires, first hopes, longings that Atlee had satisfied. Perhaps Atlee had been only a simple schoolgirl’s first love, but those feelings had run deep. And now they