Rebekah (Seven Sisters Book 4) Read online

  They bantered back and forth all through dinner, and while he still wanted answers, he was able to put that aside and concentrate on getting to know her as a person apart from her mysteries. She was smart, funny, caring, involved in the community—she was perfect. He couldn’t think of a better word to describe her. She was absolutely perfect.

  “Do you snore?” he asked her as she finished up her meal.

  “Snore?”

  “Yeah. I’m trying to find some kind of flaw in you, but I can’t.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “You can’t find a flaw in me? Seriously? Oh, my gosh. That’s just too funny. Ask my sisters—they’ll talk your ears off for hours.”

  “Okay. When?”

  She stopped laughing and looked at him. “What?”

  “When can I meet your sisters? We’ve already decided that you’re going to meet my brother—it’s only fair.”

  “Um . . .” She suddenly seemed unsure. “I don’t know, Jeremy. Remember—I said I couldn’t promise you anything, and I’m already feeling a lot more involved than I ever intended to get.”

  “But isn’t being involved a good thing? Why are you putting up so many walls against me?”

  “Because . . . I don’t know if telling you the truth is a good idea.” She slid out of the bench. “I need to go—I’m sorry.”

  “Rebekah, wait.” Jeremy stood up as well and caught her arm. “Listen, I . . . I know you don’t want to hear this, but I like you. I like you a lot, and I can’t believe that this is going to be our only date. When can I see you again?”

  “After I talk to my sister.” With that strange reply, Rebekah left, and Jeremy was even more confused than he’d been before their date.

  Chapter Four

  “What’s so secret that we’re tiptoeing around and whispering in the laundry room?” Marti asked, glancing over her shoulder. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “Is Candice still keeping Mom and Dad occupied in the living room?” Rebekah asked.

  “Yeah. Now, what’s up? And talk fast. You know how suspicious Mom gets about clandestine meetings.”

  “Okay. So, two things. My boss at work is really breathing down my neck, and I’m running out of excuses. Do you have any insights about whether I’d be safe telling him about my gift?”

  “You want to tell your boss? That seems pretty risky.”

  “I know, but he’s going to figure it out or fire me or something anyway.”

  Marti looked thoughtful. “I’m not picking up on anything in regards to that, so I’m not going to be much help. You’re probably safe to go for it if I’m not getting flashing danger signs and stuff.”

  “Oh, great. So basically, I have to decide for myself.”

  Marti laughed. “Isn’t that what you have to do anyway regardless of what I tell you?”

  “Yes, but you make things easier.”

  Marti’s expression became serious for a moment. “That’s just it. Yes, we have cool gifts, but we can’t rely on them so much that we forget about our other gifts—the ones we’ve always had, like common sense and gut feelings. We could get zapped by another power surge someday and lose our powers, and then we’d be sunk.”

  “You’re right, and I shouldn’t expect you to follow me around and tell me what to do anyway. That’s not fair to you.”

  “But there is something else you wanted to ask me . . .”

  Rebekah felt her cheeks get warm. “Yeah. There’s a guy . . .”

  “I knew it! I mean, I didn’t know it, know it, but I suspected. Because you’re acting all weird.”

  “I’m not acting weird.”

  “Yes, you are. Now, tell me about him.”

  “His name is Jeremy, and he’s a paramedic. I met him at the hospital—not surprising, because I’m there all the time—and he saw me diagnose two patients. And now he’s suspicious, and he wants answers, but I think he also wants a relationship, and I just don’t know if I can trust him.”

  Marti raised an eyebrow. “What’s your gut telling you?”

  “That . . . that I can.”

  “And you’re right. Again, I’m not getting any specifics here, but I’m also not getting any danger signs. If you were thinking about doing something dangerous, I’d be all over it, so you must be on the right track.”

  “Thanks, Marti. I appreciate it.”

  Rebekah startled as she heard her mother’s voice. “Now, what’s going on in here? Why are you hovering over my washer and dryer like they’re something incredibly special?”

  “I was trying to explain to Marti how to use the washer, and she’s pretending like she doesn’t understand,” Rebekah replied.

  “I understand how to use the washer just fine,” Marti replied. “I just don’t understand why I should use the washer when Mom wants to use it for me.”

  “Mom, let’s be honest with each other here,” Rebekah said. “Do you really want to wash Marti’s laundry?”

  Rebekah had meant her question to be funny, and she was surprised when Barbara’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s like this, honey,” she said. “I’ve spent half my life taking care of you girls. Being your mother is who I am, and now that you’re all grown up, you don’t need me as much anymore. If helping Marti with her laundry means that she still needs me for something, then yes, I do want to do it.”

  “Oh, Mom.” Both girls threw their arms around their mother and gave her a tight squeeze. “We’ll always need you,” Rebekah said. “No one else in the world could take your place.”

  “Sometimes it just doesn’t feel that way,” Barbara replied. “And now with Heather married and Jessica and Gaylynn engaged, and you about to head off to medical school and Marti graduating, everything’s changing.”

  “I was thinking about that too,” Rebekah replied. “But change doesn’t have to be bad, does it? It means new sons-in-law to love, and someday there will be grandbabies, and you’ve always talked about how you want to fill this whole house up on Thanksgiving and Christmas. This is just taking a step closer to that goal.”

  “You’re right.” Barbara pulled a Kleenex from her pocket and wiped her eyes. “I shouldn’t be so pessimistic. I think I’ve just lost a bit of myself along the way, and I’m not sure who I am if I’m not a full-time mother anymore.”

  “I saw a talk show about this the other day,” Marti said. “I think it was Donahue. Anyway, these women were saying that they woke up one morning and didn’t know who they were, so they went off on these crazy adventures to find themselves. Mom, please tell me you’re not going to get tattoos or run off with a rich Columbian coffee bean magnate or something like that.”

  “Dad would be devastated,” Rebekah chimed in.

  “No, I’m not going to do anything like that,” Barbara replied, now smiling. “I do think I might take some classes at the community center, though. Macramé would be nice, don’t you think?”

  Rebekah wasn’t convinced that one could find oneself while doing macramé because it’s not like you could lose yourself from lack of macramé, but she wasn’t about to argue. If it made her mother happy, she’d support her in it.

  ***

  The next morning, Rebekah lay in bed for a few minutes and allowed herself to bask in the sunlight that was streaming through her window. She had the day off, and she was going to church with her family and then eating at her parents’, and then she was going to take a nap and possibly take another nap too. When she had a lot of shifts, she often went without sleep, and she could feel it catching up to her.

  She put on her light pink sweater dress, thinking that the spring weather was just cool enough to get away with it, then grabbed a couple of bangles from her jewelry box. She didn’t have time to eat breakfast, but she grabbed a granola bar on her way out the door, remembering with a smile what Jeremy had said about living on fruit snacks. You did what you had to do sometimes.

  When she walked into the church, she spotted her family immediately because they were definit
ely hard to miss, but she also saw Jeremy there sitting toward the back. She was going to walk over and say hello to him, but Candice came up to her and tugged on her arm.

  “Mom says you’re late and she wants you to sit down before the pastor starts talking or you’ll cause an embarrassing scene,” Candice hissed.

  “I’m not that late, and yes, I’m coming,” Rebekah replied. She slid into her seat just as the pastor stepped up to the pulpit. All right, maybe she was that late, but still, everything was fine. There was no need to make a big deal out of it.

  The sermon was particularly nice, what Rebekah caught of it. She wished she’d had that extra moment to speak with Jeremy before the service started—she wondered if this was his new congregation, or if his persistence had taken a creepy turn and he was now stalking her everywhere, including to her place of worship. Of course, if he was being creepy, he probably wouldn’t admit to it, so talking to him about it might not do any good anyway.

  As soon as the crowd started to disperse, she worked her way toward the back and found his pew. “Hi,” she said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you either,” he replied. “I drove past this church last week and thought it looked like a friendly place, so I thought I’d give it a try. Have you gone here long?”

  “As long as I can remember,” she said. “What do you think of it so far?”

  “It’s great. I really liked how the sermon brought out the parable of the widow’s mite. I’d never thought of it that way before.”

  Rebekah wanted to ask him what he meant, but she didn’t want to admit that she’d been too distracted by him to pay attention. “It was definitely thought-provoking,” she replied instead. More lies . . . it was a good thing she wasn’t Pinocchio.

  “Hello there.” Barbara had come up behind Rebekah and was now smiling at Jeremy. “I’m Rebekah’s mother. Who might you be?”

  “Hello, Mrs. McClain. I’m Jeremy Burton. I just moved to town, and I met Rebekah at the hospital. I’m a paramedic.”

  Rebekah watched as her mother’s face took on a whole new layer of happy. “Welcome to Bagley, Jeremy. Will you come over to the house and eat with us? It’s a Sunday tradition.”

  Jeremy glanced at Rebekah as if asking her permission. She gave him a slight nod. Yes, she’d been trying to get rid of him, but Sunday dinner was different from dating. And Marti had said she could trust him, so . . .

  “I’d love to come, Mrs. McClain. Thanks so much for inviting me.”

  “Just follow us over—there are about four cars going that way, so you won’t have a chance to get lost.” Barbara threw a smile at Rebekah. It was all Rebekah could do not to laugh—her mother seemed to think she was helping Rebekah catch a man, but she didn’t know Jeremy and Rebekah had already been out.

  “Sounds great.” Jeremy bent down and picked up a messenger bag that had been sitting next to him on the bench. Looked like he’d brought his own Bible. That was pretty cool, actually. Rebekah didn’t know a lot of guys who did that.

  She got into her car and pulled out of the parking lot, then glanced in her rearview mirror to make sure Jeremy was behind her. Getting lost wasn’t actually possible in Bagley—even if he got turned around, all he’d have to do was ask someone and they’d set him straight. But it was nice to know he was there, and she realized that she liked how she felt when she was around him.

  That didn’t mean she was ready to divulge all the family secrets, but she was getting closer to it.

  Once at the house, she introduced Jeremy all around, finishing with, “Our oldest sister, Heather, lives in Idaho now, so you’ll just have to pretend you’ve met her.”

  “Well, you sort of have met her if you’ve met the rest of us,” Jessica said with a laugh. “We’re like versions of the same person, except not.”

  They sat down at the table and helped themselves to spaghetti. Barbara made her own sauce from tomatoes she grew in the garden, and it was honestly better than any sauce Rebekah had ever tried from the store. Jeremy seemed to like it too and had three servings, which of course made Barbara like him all the more.

  “Your family’s great,” Jeremy said as Rebekah walked him out to his car. “Do they always just bring people home from church with them?”

  “Yes, all the time,” Rebekah answered. “Especially if that person looks hungry.”

  “That’s so awesome. Thanks for including me today.” He rested his hand on the roof of her car. “I meant what I said about wanting to see you again, Rebekah, but I’ll respect your space if that’s really what you want.”

  “That’s the problem. I don’t know what I want.” She’d never had so many conflicting thoughts and feelings before. She liked Jeremy—she really did—and two years ago, she would have dated him with no hesitation at all. But that would have been before the Zap, as Jessica called it, and before their powers surfaced. That made everything so much harder.

  Jeremy reached out and took her hand, rubbing it gently with his thumb. “At least that’s not a flat-out no,” he said softly.

  “It’s not a no. It’s . . . it’s just not a yes. Not yet.” She wished she could give him some kind of answer, but she was still sorting through all the possible outcomes. If she wasn’t in danger of losing her job, that would also make things easier.

  “Well, I’m a pretty patient guy.” He grinned, then let go of her hand. “Thanks again for the great meal. I’ll see you later.”

  He got in his car and drove away, and Rebekah immediately felt the difference. There was a little hollow spot in her chest now because he was gone.

  Chapter Five

  Rebekah dashed across the floor and grabbed hold of one side of the gurney as Jeremy pushed it through the emergency room doors. Her heart had given a little thump when she realized it was him, but she’d immediately gone into work mode when her eyes landed on the patient. “What have we got?”

  “Patient is unresponsive and her breath sounds are shallow,” Jeremy replied. “History of heart disease. Her husband found her on the kitchen floor.”

  “How long ago?”

  “About ten minutes.”

  Rebekah glanced around, but didn’t see Dr. Hunsaker yet—it sometimes took a minute for him to reach the ER from his office, or he might have been dealing with a matter somewhere else in the hospital. She reached out and touched the patient’s windpipe, focusing on what Jeremy had said about her breath sounds. Oh, that was an easy fix.

  She grabbed the woman and sat her up, then positioned herself to do the Heimlich maneuver. As she brought her hands in and up, a chunk of food flew out of the woman’s mouth and ricocheted off the opposite wall.

  The patient took a huge gasping breath, then sagged into Rebekah’s arms again. This time, though, she was conscious.

  “She was choking?” Jeremy sounded incredulous. “With her history, we thought for sure she’d had a heart attack.”

  “That would make the most sense,” Rebekah replied. “Where’s her husband now?”

  “Sitting in the chairs in the waiting room. He was pretty upset, so my partner stayed with him.”

  Rebekah nodded. That was probably the best way to handle it—her patient was elderly, meaning that her husband likely was too, and his health had to be kept in consideration as well. She checked to make sure her patient was comfortable, then walked down the hall toward the waiting room.

  “Hello there,” she said as she approached. “Mr. . . .?”

  “Donaldson,” he replied, coming to his feet. “I’m Ian Donaldson. My wife is Marge.”

  “Mr. Donaldson, your wife is going to be fine. She was choking on some food, and when you found her, she’d passed out from restricted oxygen. She was able to get just enough air to stay alive. I did the Heimlich maneuver, and the food has been ejected from her windpipe.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Mr. Donaldson said. “Can I see her?”

  “Of course,” Rebekah replied. “Come this way.”

&
nbsp; Jeremy motioned to his partner, and they headed back out to their ambulance. Jeremy gave Rebekah a smile as they passed.

  Mr. Donaldson took his wife’s hand in his. “You sure gave me a scare,” he told her, a tremble in his voice. “I thought I was losing you.”

  “You won’t have such an easy time getting rid of me.” Her voice was a little scratchy, but her humor was obvious, and Rebekah smiled.

  “Rest here for a little bit, and then we’ll send you home.” She stepped out of the cubicle and walked over to the nurses’ station to fill out the paperwork. Dr. Hunsaker was there waiting for her.

  “A word, Nurse McClain?”

  Without saying anything, she followed him to his office.

  This time, he didn’t even wait until she was seated before he began. “I’ve been patient, probably a great deal more patient than I should have been, but now I need an explanation. I’m told that patient had a history of heart disease and came in unresponsive with shallow breath sounds, and you immediately did the Heimlich. How did you draw that conclusion? Why weren’t you following proper protocol for a suspected heart attack?”

  He didn’t sound angry, but he did sound frustrated. Rebekah knew she’d pushed the boundaries of his goodwill a little too far by refusing to answer. Taking a deep breath and praying Marti was right, she said, “Dr. Hunsaker, I’d like to explain, but first, could you please sit down?”

  He scowled. “No good conversation ever starts that way.”

  “I know, but it can’t be helped.”

  He sat down and laced his fingers on the desk in front of him. “I’m sitting. Please proceed.”

  “All right.” Where to start . . . “So, you’ve noticed that I seem to know what’s wrong with our patients as soon as they come in.”

  “Yes, I’ve noticed that. I want the how and the why.”

  “I can’t give you a how or a why, but I’ll give you what I can.” She ignored his increasingly deepening scowl and continued. “Just over a year ago, I was at my parents’ house, and we experienced a lightning flash and a power outage. On that night, each of my sisters and myself were given some kind of gift. Mine is that I can diagnose illnesses. When I touch someone, I can feel heat radiating off the afflicted area, and a slight vibration. Then I have a sense of knowing what’s going on there. It’s hard to describe, but it’s like I’m suddenly absolutely confident in how to solve the problem. And sometimes I don’t have to touch them—sometimes I just know.”