Rebecca's Promise by Jerry S. Eicher

Author:Jerry S. Eicher [Eicher, Jerry S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Christian, Romance
ISBN: 9780736931809
Google: Wu0aoxMU1ZUC
Amazon: 0736926356
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers
Published: 2009-02-28T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Luke spent an unsuccessful week watching in vain for any sign of the lawyer’s return to Emma’s. Of course, he told himself, this highbrow lawyer could come anytime, day or night, whether he was there or not.

But then an idea occurred to Luke.

It was on Tuesday night, just after the big snow on Monday. No strange car had appeared all day, so when his chores were done and as he was getting ready to leave, he implemented his plan. At the place where he hitched up his buggy—a place where it was not out of the ordinary for him to be—he spread snow across the driveway.

He carefully spread the soft snow in a thick carpet across the driveway. He tapered the edges off to make them look completely normal. Then after he was hitched up to his buggy, he drove across it himself to test his plan.

Glancing out the buggy door and using his rearview mirror, he could see that the test was a success. The pile of snow across the driveway recorded perfectly his horse’s hooves and the thin buggy tires. It would do the same for an automobile because anyone coming in would have to drive across the snow to reach the walk to Emma’s front door.

Telling his mother later, her smile had been reward enough. “I’m glad to see you take this serious, Luke,” she had said.

By Wednesday evening there had been no mark left in the snow, but now with no fresh snow, he would have to carry more snow from a distance. Emma would surely notice and wonder what he was up to. So, instead, he simply smoothed out the dirt on the driveway in that spot. When it occurred to him that the freezing temperatures would turn the dirt solid, he walked back to the barn, returning with several handfuls of cow feed in his pockets. He glanced at the house windows, saw no one, and then spread the feed across the smooth dirt. It would have to do.

There also had been no more envelopes either placed in the mailbox or given to him to take to the post office. He would have known, he was sure, even though Emma took the mail to the mailbox herself. He made a point of being near the front barn about the time Emma walked to the end of the driveway. There had been no brown envelopes in her hand on the trek to the mailbox all week.

This morning though, Emma had gone to the mailbox early, while Luke was still in the back lot carrying out a round bale of hay for the cattle. Frantically, he watched her walk down the driveway, her arms swinging vigorously as was her custom. It was as though she was glad to see each new morning, heading out to embrace it, face wide open.

He felt like shoving both sticks of his New Holland forward and tearing down the driveway after her. That, he told himself was exactly the wrong thing to do.

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