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  Rebekah’s Refuge

  Meredith Leigh Burton

  Copyright © 2019 Meredith Leigh Burton

  Cover Design by Kendra E. Ardnek

  All rights reserved.

  DEDICATION

  With inexpressible gratitude to my Savior, Jesus Christ, who enables me to listen to His song and to use my gifts to glorify Him. May my efforts, however paltry, help others to hear His song of love and creation.

  And, To Elizabeth Harville, a friend whose kindness and steadfast faith serve as a beacon of hope in an often turbulent world

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Rebekah’s Refuge is a story of family, whether the family be traditional or otherwise. It is also a story of finding the strength to do what is right despite difficult circumstances. My family made the momentous decision to send me to the Tennessee School for the Blind at the age of six, a residential school where I was introduced to another family. I am indebted to my immediate family for their incredible sacrifices and all the “house parents” at the Tennessee School for the Blind who assisted me during the years that I lived at the school. Family exists in many forms, and I have learned so much about the value of sacrifice and strength from all those who have assisted me.

  I would also like to thank my editor, Stephanie Ricker, who read the rough draft of this story and sent me many suggestions to improve it. Her candor and kindness have provided me with invaluable assistance throughout the years. My writing has improved immensely because of her suggestions.

  I would also like to thank Kendra E. Ardnek for providing me with the opportunity for publishing Rebekah’s Refuge and for her exquisite cover design.

  Writing is far from a solitary job, and I would like to thank all the readers who make this job worthwhile. I hope that my stories take you on fun and engaging adventures. And, most importantly, I hope that my stories help everyone who might feel as if they don’t belong to understand that God has a purpose for you. Whether you feel alone at times or despair of ever finding your rightful place in the world, know that you were created with gifts that, like magnificent gardens, will enrich many lives. God will enable you to unearth those gifts if you ask for His help and listen for the wisdom He provides. God bless you all.

  Prologue

  The guard was dead. At least, Rebekah hoped that was what a casual observer might first believe. The man lay in a sprawled position, his hand splayed across his stomach, his face slack. Rebekah bent over his unconscious form, her heart pounding in terror. Her breaths emerged in pathetic gasps.

  Shaking, she rose and reached behind her, enfolding the sleeping infant into her arms. The guard had opened her enclosure when she had made her intentions known, and she had endured his advances until he was relaxed enough for her to act.

  A simple poppy which she had created from her own hair had done the job. The hypnotic fragrance had worked a powerful spell, resulting in a deep slumber. But, he would not sleep long.

  She reached forward, being careful not to touch the wrought-iron enclosure in which she was confined. The door was unlatched. Stealthily, Rebekah began to walk, keeping her eyes downcast to the sleeping infant in her arms. She had fed the girl a concoction of milk inundated with poppy to prevent her from crying.

  Rebekah glided along the compound’s bleak grounds. Her fellow prisoners slept deeply, their shorn heads covered in cloth kerchiefs. The guard had meant to cut her hair, too, but not before he had fulfilled his desire. Rebekah continued walking, her every nerve ending screaming with terror.

  “Going somewhere?” A burly man emerged from her right where he had been patrolling the cages in his part of the compound. The man’s face was haggard, and he trembled with fatigue. These workers were young men unused to their task. The Bind Weed Project had lasted for a year now, and the understaffed compound where the norns were held as prisoners were becoming more and more squalid. She had listened to the guards as they patrolled, learning that the project likely wouldn’t last another year. “The benefactor has withdrawn his support,” one of them had said gruffly.

  Now, Rebekah continued to walk, her face set in a mask of steely determination, her eyes fastened onto the sleeping infant’s face.

  “Asked you a question,” the guard said warily. He approached her and reached out a hand to grasp her arm.

  Schwoosh! Thorns emerged from nowhere, their jagged tips swaying and reaching upward toward the guard’s eyes. The guard swore and jumped backward, glaring at the ashen-faced norn. “You witch! What are you doing?”

  Rebekah stood on the opposite side of the newly-created thorn wall she had erected, her golden hair swirling about her in an invisible breeze.

  “Stay away from me,” Rebekah whispered, her voice shaking with terror. “If you don’t, I’ll make these thorns grow higher! I’ll make them gouge out your eyes. The pain will be unbearable!”

  She listened to the guard’s cries and the hurried feet of other patrollers as they came from all directions. Rebekah ran, clutching the infant protectively against her pounding heart.

  ***

  “You’re mad, Rebekah! Have you taken leave of your senses?” Tabitha turned from the hearth, her weathered cheeks wreathed in steam from the soup pot. Her sister stood beside the cottage door, clutching the infant girl. The child kicked her chubby legs and wriggled as she gurgled with pleasure. “You have no husband, no means of providing for a child.”

  “I know, Tabitha,” Rebekah bowed her head. “They gave this child to me in the compound. The mother could not nurse her. They feared she had Bind Weed Plague.” Rebekah’s features convulsed with pain.

  Tabitha glared. “You were a fool to volunteer to help with that project.”

  Rebekah frowned. “The government was trying to find a cure for the plague, Tabitha. We norns have a duty to help the human race. It’s what we were created to—”

  “Not when it puts our lives in danger!” Tabitha blinked, trying to keep tears at bay but failing miserably. “And, when have humans ever cared about us? Rebekah, they could have killed you.”

  Rebekah shook her head. “I was in the group not given injections,” she said. “They wanted to see if the injections made a difference.” She sighed. “The project was a failure. It only resulted in the growth of tainted hair.” She shuddered. “Norns given injections grew hair that produced poisonous plants. Tabitha, it was awful!” She wept openly, gazing down at the infant’s smiling face. “This child’s mother was only sixteen. She was in the other group. The guards said they had to take her child away from her to keep the baby healthy. The mother’s cries still haunt me. I hear them in my sleep.”

  “But why did you take the girl away?” Tabitha asked. “Surely, you should have returned her to her mother.”

  “I couldn’t return her. The mother was dying. She was so weak.” Rebekah stared at Tabitha with steely resolve. “I have to leave her in your care, Tabitha. She needs to stay with you.”

  Tabitha gasped and turned away, her heart pounding. “We have to find her family. How can you leave her with—”

  “I have to leave,” Rebekah said, her voice breaking. “They’ll search for me, and I cannot allow them to take the child as well. She might be taken
back to the compound. What if her mother is dead? What if they abandon her or worse? I’ll go to a distant village and hide. Keep the child and claim her as your own. Jared will accept her.” She gazed at Tabitha with a look that spoke volumes. “Both of you have longed for a child. Please help me, Tabitha.”

  After a long moment, Tabitha reached out, and Rebekah placed the wriggling infant into Tabitha’s arms. Immediately, Tabitha felt an inexorable tug at her heart. Her hair began to react, moving of its own accord. The Song of Creation that all norns knew began to stir within her. She felt a rustling sensation.

  Rebekah reached upward to pluck the plant that had sprouted within her sister’s hair. A yellow rose nestled in Rebekah’s palm. The sisters smiled at each other as Rebekah gently threaded the lovely rose into the infant’s golden tresses. The child had exceptionally long hair for an infant. Rebekah bent and gave the child a kiss. Then she enfolded Tabitha into her arms. “Please keep her safe,” she whispered. “I love you, Tabitha.”

  Tabitha choked on a sob and returned Rebekah’s embrace. “I’ll name the child after you,” she whispered. “She’ll be safe here.” She watched as Rebekah trudged from the cottage and then gazed down at her sister’s namesake. The child flexed her chubby right hand, fastening it around Tabitha’s index finger. For the first time, the norn with the careworn face laughed a laugh of pure joy. She now had a child of her own. For years, she and Jared had tried to have a child without success. Tabitha would protect her daughter at all costs.

  Chapter 1

  Ten years later…

  Chug-chuff! The train limped along its tortuous track like an arthritic patient. Its breath heaved in phlegmatic lungs. Particles of coal dust floated in the air, delivering stinging slaps to unwary faces.

  “Ouch!” Rebekah angrily raised her hand to rub at her eyes. They watered profusely, trying to rid themselves of the inhospitable dust. What a bother! You would think that as useless as her eyes were, they would not sting so! But, truth be told, the coal dust was of little consequence. The girl knew quite well that she shed tears. She only hoped no one noticed.

  “You mustn’t fidget,” a gentle female voice said. “That only makes it worse.”

  Rebekah laughed harshly. “Worse? How can it possibly be any worse?” She was not referring to the inhospitable conveyance in which she traveled.

  “You’d be surprised. The dust seems to like you restless ones.” A hand was placed on Rebekah’s own. For a moment, the girl tensed under the gentle pressure, but the hand was soft, and she gradually allowed herself to relax. As she did so, a wonderful scent floated to her, the scent of earth and yeast. The smell brought to mind Mother’s kitchen and bread-baking days. She could almost feel the mass of bread dough beneath her hands, so moist yet firm. Rebekah sighed and leaned back upon the hard seat of the conveyance. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Why apologize, child? Anyone else would do the same. I’ve just traveled on these trains more than most, I suppose, so it’s easy for me to give orders.” Rebekah heard the rustling of cloth as the woman beside her shifted position. “First time traveling by train, I take it?”

  Rebekah grimaced. If the woman only knew! “Yes,” she sighed. Her face grew hot. “I have to meet Aunt Anika at Wickson Station.”

  “I see,” the woman said. “Well, it’s about thirty minutes away. I get off in Plumvale, so I’ll be with you the remainder of your trip. Do you need anything? The dining car serves some delectable bacon sandwiches. The seedcake is first-rate, too.”

  Rebekah lowered her head. Mother’s words invaded her mind. Never allow a stranger to buy you anything. Never reveal what you truly are. Above all, never, ever allow your hair to be cut.

  Of course, Rebekah knew the rules governing her people. Although her stomach growled, she was hesitant to accept this stranger’s kind offer. But, a sandwich would be lovely. Watercress, perhaps, with just a hint of dill and rosemary. And seedcake! Moist with crisp—

  Thwack! Boom! The train shuddered and screamed in terror, bucking like a frightened horse. Rebekah felt a tremendous jarring sensation. She fell in a deluge of stench and fear. Her head smacked against a hard surface. Her final conscious thought was, They will discover I am alone, and the woman will know I lied. The Mark will be discovered. Mother will never forgive me. Then she knew no more.

  Chapter 2

  Martha Brunswick knelt upon the ground. Her heart hammered. Around her rose screams of terror and gruff commands. “Remain calm. Everything will be all right.”

  Liars. Martha grimaced. Her hands shook even as she cradled the limp body of the young girl in her arms. Great Egaphia! What was the world coming to when innocent passengers couldn’t even travel safely?

  Martha stroked the girl’s hair. Her hand traveled to the girl’s neck, and she felt for a pulse. Yes. One was there, but it fluttered feebly like a baby birds’ wings. Oh, Egaphia, please help—

  Martha’s thoughts melted away as she felt the strange depression of skin upon the girl’s neck. Her heart stopped. Oh no, oh no! Let it be a simple birthmark. Not this. Not—

  “Are you all right, ma’am?” A tense voice startled Martha from her reverie, and she looked up as a stout man bent toward her. He wore soot-blackened, hob-nailed boots, and his face was pinched with fatigue. “Are you hurt? We have emergency personnel on their way. Quite a few people are injured.”

  Martha swallowed. “I’m well. What happened?”

  The man frowned. “Not rightly sure yet. The train was derailed. The signal never came from the upcoming station.” He cleared his throat. “Word’s come that there’s sickness there, ma’am. Wickson Station was our next stop, but we can’t risk it.” He surveyed her more closely. Then his eyes traveled to the girl in her arms. “Your daughter’s got a nasty bump on her head.”

  Martha hesitated. The tips of her fingers still tingled, and she could feel the impression of the Leaf Mark beneath them as if she still touched the girl’s neck. Should she contradict the man’s statement, tell him that this girl was not her daughter? To distract herself, she asked, “What kind of sickness?” Her every nerve ending was tense with terror. Let it not be what she feared! The Bind Weed Plague had been eradicated, hadn’t it? But, if people at Wickson Station were ill, was it safe for the girl to go there? Would a quarantine be ordered?

  The man fidgeted uncomfortably. “Same symptoms as when the Bind Weed Plague struck, I fear. Fevers, inability to breathe, purple rashes, and bowel irritation. Next comes paralysis and—”

  “No need to enumerate every symptom!” Martha snapped. Nausea clawed at the back of her throat. She knew what she had to do, and when she spoke again, her voice was firm. “I’ll care for my daughter. We’ll be quite all right.”

  The man frowned. “It would be best if a physician made certain she was—“

  “Yes, yes,” Martha said quickly. “Of course. I understand.”

  The man smiled with relief. “We’ll get her to hospital as soon as the emergency crew arrives.”

  Martha nodded, and the man walked away. Quickly, she gathered dirt in her hands and plastered it over the girl’s neck. It was a feeble way to conceal something, but it was all she could think to do. As she worked, she saw the girl’s eyes flutter. Relief flooded through her. “I’m here,” she said soothingly. “You’ll be all right.” She must never let the girl out of her sight. The girl’s life depended upon it.

  ***

  Grow, grow, Egaphia waits

  For flowers of love that we shall create.

  Spread, spread throughout the land

  Bringing life and joy that is grand.

  The song of creation that Rebekah had heard from infancy surged around her. Rebekah dreamed of green growth, of earth shifting its gentle fingers as it allowed its offspring to awaken. She felt her fingers curl and uncurl, mimicking the earth’s gentle touch. Live and thrive, she thought with commanding strength. Bring beauty and life to all who see you. She sighed with contentment. She walked among beautiful thi
ngs, and the Leaf Mark upon her neck quivered with the energy of creation. All was right with the world.

  “There you are.” The dream world shattered like a broken vase, and Rebekah felt the familiar touch. Ice-clothed hands began to stroke her hair. The cloying scent of peppermint wafted around her, a usually cleansing fragrance that suddenly made Rebeka shiver with dread. She trembled. The icy hands dug deep into her golden mass of hair, and the gentle male voice spoke again. “Did you truly think I would never find you?” Then she felt it, the sharp, metallic caress of something upon the nape of her neck. Any moment the object would close, and the sharp teeth of the object would bite. It would eat her alive. Rebekah began to scream.

  ***

  “Shh! It’s all right, child.” Rebekah jerked awake. A hand bathed her face with a fragrant cloth. Rebekah remembered that hand. The scent of earth and bread dough filled her nostrils. Around her, she heard frantic cries and gruff voices. Where was she?

  The woman spoke again. “You’re going to be transported to Charis Hospital. You bumped your head when the train was derailed, but you awoke fairly quickly. The doctors just want to make certain you’re all right.?”

  Rebekah placed sweat-soaked hands to her temples. “My head hurts,” she whispered.

  “Yes, I’m sure it does,” the woman said gently. “I’ll stay with you until we can locate your aunt. What was her name again?”

  Rebekah swallowed nervously, feeling heat scorch her face. “A-Annika,” she whispered. She began to shake.

  “Well, child, there’s been trouble at Wickson Station. Sickness has broken out there.” The woman’s voice was sad. “We don’t know if your aunt was there to meet you or if she hadn’t yet arrived. But, I’ll ask the police if they know of her whereabouts.”