The Shunning by Beverly Lewis Read Free Book Online Page B

other. The solid pine furniture had been banished to the dark cellar—not a necessary gift for this marriage, although there had been some talk that the bishop wanted to auction off his deceased wife’s furniture to make room for Katie’s things. That idea had been discarded, however, when nine-year-old Nancy—sentimental about her mother’s belongings—had pleaded to keep the furniture for her own bride’s dowry someday. So Katie’s corner cupboard would remain in storage for now.
    Perhaps Eli’s bride would enjoy it. Or Benjamin’s. Both boys were secretly courting girls, Rebecca was almost certain. A double wedding might be in the air come November of next year.
    This year, however, was Katie’s. She would be moving into John’s house, where she’d have the use of his furniture—everything a married couple would ever need. A typical bride’s dowry such as a sideboard for the kitchen or a corner cupboard for the parlor would not be called for. Not even a drop-leaf table.
    But there would be a dowry gift, and Rebecca had planned something very special. In addition to a Bridal Heart quilt and some crocheted doilies and linens, she would give her daughter eighteen hundred dollars.
    Though she’d said nothing to Samuel, she was sure he’d agree. In many ways, the money, which had accumulated interest over the past twenty-two years, was a befitting gift, and Rebecca found herself recalling the peculiar circumstances surrounding it. . . .
    The morning sky had threatened rain the day she and Samuel climbed into the backseat of Peter and Lydia Miller’s big, fancy car for the drive to downtown Lancaster. The trip seemed surprisingly fast— only twenty minutes—compared to the typical buggy ride of two hours or so, depending upon traffic.
    Rebecca was grateful for the transportation at a time like this. Her contractions were much too close together, and she feared she might be going into premature labor. After two consecutive miscarriages and in her eighth month of pregnancy, she was weak with worry. She’d not felt life for at least a day now.
    Married at eighteen, she was still quite young. Too young—at twenty-four—to be facing yet another loss. On some days, before this most recent pregnancy, she had found herself nearly frantic with longing and grief. Nearly two years had passed since Benjamin, her youngest, had come so easily that Mattie Beiler, the too-talkative midwife, was scarcely ready to catch him. But now there were problems. Serious ones.
    Cousin Lydia had promised to pray for a safe delivery as her husband, Peter, stopped the car at the curb and let them out in front of the emergency entrance. But much to Lydia’s dismay, Rebecca had insisted on going it alone. Not even Rebecca’s closest kinfolk knew of her fears or the fact that the baby had stopped kicking. She needed only one person with her on this day. Samuel.
    A tall, young orderly met them at the door with a wheelchair. Samuel answered the admittance clerk’s questions while Rebecca sat very still, praying for life-giving movement in her womb instead of this dull and silent heaviness.
    Forcing back tears, she thought of her little ones at home—happy little Benjamin, out of diapers now and a toddler of two; Eli, a busy, confident youngster even at three. Her eldest, Elam, a fine, strong five-year-old, was already helping Samuel with the milking and plowing.
    Oh, but she desired more children—a little girl . . . maybe two or three of them. Samuel, after all, had gotten his sons first off—three in a row—and Rebecca loved them dearly. Still, something was missing. A daughter to learn the old ways at her Mam’s hearth, to bear many grandsons and granddaughters for her and Samuel one day.
    The baby had come quickly. Stillborn.
    Rebecca would not stay overnight in the hospital after her delivery. Her body was physically strong, but her emotions were scarred. How could she face the People—her loved ones and close friends—with