Rebekah's Riches

By Sara Harris

As the memory of the traumatic labor and delivery that made her a mother fades, life around Rebekah and Joseph’s Gasthof Village homestead returns to a shade of normal that is better than she could have ever imagined. That is, until her father, Samuel, takes sick yet again.

As they are preparing for a life without Samuel, a summer storm brings tragedy to their homestead and Rebekah is left distraught over which man in her life is on his deathbed, her father, her husband, or both?

• Language: English
• Publisher: vinspirepublishing
• Release date: Jul 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005989859

Sara Harris

Sara Harris is the Creative Director at the Children's Discovery Center where she designs, develops, and purchases equipment for classroom spaces both existing and for new builds. She lives with her family in Maumee, Ohio.

Book preview

Rebekah’s Riches

As the memory of the traumatic labor and delivery that made her a mother fades, life around Rebekah and Joseph’s Gasthof Village homestead returns to a shade of normal that is better than she could have ever imagined. That is, until her father, Samuel, takes sick yet again.

As they are preparing for a life without Samuel, a summer storm brings tragedy to their homestead and Rebekah is left distraught over which man in her life is on his deathbed... her father, her husband, or both?

Advance Praise for Rebekah’s Riches

Rebekah’s Riches is the kind of book you need on your shelf. A story you will reach for time and time again. One that will grip you from the first page to the last. The author has penned a story of love and faith that is going to touch countless lives. It touched mine. ~ Rebecca Corio, author of Storm of Passion

What a full circle conclusion to this heartwarming Amish romance series. As readers, we have seen Rebekah struggle to become the woman she knows she should be, but it is through adversity and loss that she realizes she does not have to struggle alone. I especially loved the perfectly prickly character, Fogarty Johnson, who appeared in this book. Sara Harris not only knows how to tell a story, but she is an expert at plucking our heartstrings, as well. I highly recommend this entire series. ~ Ann Swann, author of Stutter Creek

Other Books by Sara Harris

Historical Fiction

A Heart on Hold (An Everlasting Heart #1)

A Heart Broken (An Everlasting Heart #2)

A Heart at Home (An Everlasting Heart #3)

A Heart Forever Wild (An Everlasting Heart #4)

Christian Historical Fiction

The Calling

Amish Fiction

Rebekah’s Quilt (Rebekah’s Keepsakes #1)

Katie’s Plain Regret (Amish Journeys #1)

Middle Grade Fiction

The Apache and the Pale Face Soldiers (The Saga of Indian Em’ly #1)

On the Colorado Trail (The Saga of Indian Em’ly #2)

The Orphanage (The Saga of Indian Em’ly #3)

Journey Home (The Saga of Indian Em’ly #4)

Picture Books

Little Spoon

Chunky Sugars

Inspirational Thriller

House of Madness

Nonfiction for Young Readers

The ABCs of Texas Plants

The ABCs of Oklahoma Plants

The Big Bad Wolf Really Isn’t So Big and Bad

Short Fiction

Shootout in Old Amarillo

The Bank Robber’s Lament

Desperado

Anthology Works

Crazy Horse High (Music of the Heart Anthology)

The Calling (A Cowboy’s Heart Anthology)

Michaela of the Sea (Amuseing Tales Anthology)

Moggin Says Red (by Sara’s son, Logan)

REBEKAH’S RICHES

Rebekah’s Keepsakes #4

Sara Harris

Shape Description automatically generated with low confidence

Copyright ©2022 Sara Harris

Cover illustration copyright © 2022 Elaina Lee/For the Muse Designs

Formatting and Interior Design by Woven Red Author Services

First Edition

Printed and bound in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web-without permission in writing from the publisher. For information, please contact Vinspire Publishing, LLC, P.O. Box 1165, Ladson, SC 29456-1165.

All characters in this work are purely fictional and have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

ISBN: 979-8-9858530-1-8

This book, the fourth in the Rebekah’s Keepsakes series, is dedicated to all who suffer and to those to spend their lives trying to alleviate the suffering of others.

Chapter 1

With her eyelids fluttering, Rebekah plucked a cloth out of the basket beside the bed and folded it into a triangle. She had not enjoyed a full night’s sleep since Dawson was born and these precious few moments, where her body cried for sleep, but she could only close her eyes for moments, were usually all she had to get her through the day. Thankfully, she did not need to think for many of her repetitive tasks, since the muscles in her hands seemed to know just what to do.

Dawson, three-months-old, squeaked from atop the quilt and kicked his plump little legs.

She smiled as a motherly warmth filled her chest. "You are ready to have your unmentionables changed, aren’t you sohn."

From behind her, Joseph pushed open their bedroom window. To let the stale air out and the fresh air in, he joshed.

"Stale air that comes with changing a dirty bopplin?" Rebekah switched the diaper expertly. "Though I am not sure that stale describes what our sohn can do to air when he needs a change."

A conclave of cardinals chirped from their nest in the tulip tree as Joseph stood, his back to her, and stared at the horizon. Looks like a summer storm will soon pay us a visit.

As if on some divine cue, a clap of thunder sounded in the distance. Joseph nodded as though he and the Almighty had some sort of unspoken understanding.

Going to be a gully-washer, too, by the sound of it.

Rebekah fixed the second diaper pin in place and plucked Dawson from the bed. "Do you want to put the dirty cloth in to soak, or do you want to hold your sohn?"

Joseph turned from the window and extended his arms toward her. You are doing so well with the cloths; it seems a sin to tear you away from it now.

Rebekah chuckled. She and Joseph had taken to parenting quite naturally, and their routine was not forced or one-sided. She already planned on taking the cloth, since he had done all the bathing and changing the day before, just like he would tomorrow. Still, she had to get her jokes in when she could.

Well, if you say so, Rebekah said. As she reached to place Dawson in his fater’s waiting arms, a streak of movement outside caught her eye. She froze.

Joseph? Did you see that?

He accepted the wiggling bopplin.

Rebekah leaned out the window. Is that Thomas?

Joseph pulled the baby close to his chest and turned on his heel. That is Thomas all right.

Why is he waving his hat like that? Rebekah sucked in a breath. Joseph, something wrong.

Before she could turn from the window and rush to meet her baby brother, another clap of thunder made her jump. The horizon had darkened considerably and a cold wind, prelude to the coming storm, rushed in through the open window. It carried Thomas’s words with it.

Joseph! Sissy! Come quick, Pa is sick. Help!

***

Breathless, Thomas dashed into Rebekah’s waiting arms. Fat raindrops dotted the powdery Indiana dirt around them, leaving big, dark splotches scattered out like coins on a tabletop. Another clap of thunder rolled across the prairie.

Rebekah pulled back from their embrace and clasped an exhausted Thomas’s sweaty face in her hands. What is wrong, Thomas? What is wrong with Pa?

The raindrops fell faster.

Thomas drew in a jagged breath and swiped the back of his hand across his nose. Rebekah knew he’d been crying, probably the whole way over.

P…Pa, Thomas stuttered. His…his chest.

Take deep breaths, Thomas. Be calm.

Thomas nodded. After a moment, his breath came easier. His chest. It hurt all day yesterday. Kept him up half the night. He drew the back of his hand across his eyes, instead of his nose. Both were watery. This morning, he cannot get out of bed. He is sweaty and pale. And Sissy… His little voice trailed off until the chilled wind swirled it away. He did not even want his morning coffee. And you know Pa, he cannot…

Rebekah nodded and finished her little brother’s thought. ...start his day without hot coffee and good company. She tucked Thomas under her arm and began to guide him back toward the house. I wonder how many times Pa has said that over the years? Fifty? A hundred?

Come on you two, Joseph, all smiles as usual, called from their doorway. Or you are both going to look like a couple of drowned rats!

As if on some unspoken cue, another sharp clap of thunder sounded and made her jump.

Sounds like it ripped the sky in two! Thomas said.

Hurry, Thomas! Rebekah’s plea was cut short as the skies loosened their downpour. As they rushed toward the house, she couldn’t help but skip over the quickly forming puddles, just as she and Thomas used to when they were younger. She glanced over her shoulder as Thomas hopped along behind her. Hey, I reckon you cannot jump that big puddle there without falling in!

A surge of guilt flashed through her. How can I jest while Pa is sick? The guilt fizzled. Why not jest? If Thomas’s news is as bad as it sounds, this may be the last time we smile for quite some time.

Her younger brother with the freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose clasped his wide-brimmed straw