Sarah sank onto the couch, shoving aside the laundry that she had to find time to fold the next day. Shirts, pants, underclothes, and quite a few mismatched socks tumbled to the floor, but she had no energy to pick them up. After what she’d been through emotionally in the last twenty-four hours, laundry could wait another twelve hours without causing anyone permanent harm.
“I’m sorry we weren’t there, Sarah. I didn’t know it would be important for us to go.” Andy scrubbed a hand across his face.
She could tell how tired he was, and also that he regretted not traveling with them to Tulsa that morning.
“You couldn’t have known that my ride would break down before it even got here. Amelia has never had trouble before.”
“Regardless, I should have been there. This is important to you and to the future of Mateo and Mia. Somehow in my mind it was only a matter of signing a few forms. I never imagined you having to go into the judge’s chambers. It would have been nice to have someone with you then.”
She thought of Paul, waiting in the hall, and the way his eyes had lit up the moment he saw her. He’d known before she uttered a word that Mateo and Mia would be going home with them.
“The reporter—Chloe—is going to come and interview me. She wants to draw attention to the fact that more children need homes.”
“And Levi approved of that?” Andy asked.
“He did. Chloe is familiar with our ways.” Sarah smiled and added, “She didn’t even try to take our picture.”
“If it’s okay with Levi, it’s okay with me.”
“We have to appear before the judge again in six months. It would be wunderbaar if our entire family could go together then.”
“Sure. Of course.” Andy yawned.
“Gut thing you had us move things around in Isaac’s room.” Henry had been pretending to read the Budget, but she’d seen him rub at his eyes several times.
“Ya, those two are as thick as pigs in a pen, and Luke is there to keep them out of trouble.” Andy hesitated and then added, “We need to prepare Isaac for when Mateo leaves.”
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that.”
“Uh-oh.” Henry stood and stretched. “Sounds like an adult talk. Think I’ll pretend I’m still a kid and head to bed.”
“Nein. This affects you too, Henry. It affects everyone, but I wanted to speak with both of you first since you’re the oldest.”
Andy stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. “I knew something was on your mind during dinner—you kept worrying your thumbnail.”
“I did?”
“It’s a nervous habit of yours.” Andy grinned. “When you’re angry, you turn red in the face. When you’re nervous, you fidget with your nails.”
“If she does both, watch out.” Henry folded up the newspaper he hadn’t read and sat down once more. “Out with it. What’s on your mind now?”
“It’s Mateo and Mia. While I was meeting with the judge, I spoke to her about permanent placement for them, here, in our house.” She held up both hands when Andy and Henry started questioning her at once. “It won’t happen right away. As I said, we have another review in six months. But there are steps we can take if we want to give them a permanent home.”
“Let’s start with seeing how they do here on a temporary basis.” Andy sighed. “I like the kids as much as you do, but they have a parent.”
“Only one, apparently, and no one can locate her.”
“All right. She’s missing. So is ours. Doesn’t mean we’ll never see her again.”
Henry scoffed at that. They hadn’t talked much about their mother since she’d left, but Sarah knew that each of them still thought of her. You didn’t just forget your mother.
“We’re old enough to take care of ourselves—the three of us are. And of course we will take care of Luke and Isaac, but Mateo and Mia have no one else.”
“You don’t know that,” Henry pointed out.
“They were living in an abandoned building, not with relatives. And Tommy has done a search. He’s tried to find family. He’ll continue to do so, but he told the bishop that family is usually located within the first week if they’re located at all.”
“Let me see if I have this straight.” Andy began ticking points off on his fingers. “You think their mother is not coming back, they have no other relatives, and we should be their permanent family.”
“Ya, that’s what I think.”
He settled back into the rocker. “I have to admit I hadn’t thought much past today’s hearing and providing a place until—”
“But what if there isn’t an until? Some kids stay in foster homes for years and years, never feeling like a real part of a family. I don’t want that for Mateo and Mia. I want them to know that they will always have a home with us, and that we care about them permanently—not only until another solution is found.”
Andy stood, picked up their empty mugs, and carried them to the kitchen. When he returned, he was once again smiling. “It’s gut you brought this up, Sarah. We all need to pray on the matter. If you feel Gotte leading you in the direction of being a permanent parent, perhaps that is what we should do.”
“But I realize it doesn’t only affect me. That’s two more mouths to feed, two more bodies to clothe, and probably additional doctor bills somewhere along the way. You and Henry are working long hours as it is just to make a living for the five of us.”
“If Gotte will provide for five, then He’ll provide for seven.” Henry shrugged. “I heard someone at church say as much when they announced that their fraa was expecting twins.”
“Our bruder is wise beyond his years,” Andy said, leaning over to ruffle Henry’s hair. “Let’s see how the children settle in and talk about this again in a few weeks.”
Henry and Andy sauntered off to bed, where they would no doubt drop off to sleep in less than a minute.
Sarah walked up to her room and tucked the covers more tightly around Mia. She’d made the girl a pallet adjacent to her own bed. They would have more space if they moved down to her mother’s room, but Sarah wasn’t ready to do that yet.
She changed into her nightgown, made sure a flashlight was next to her bed, and lay down. She didn’t fall to sleep for some time. Instead, she tried to imagine where her mother was and what she was doing. Was the life she was now living so very different than their life in Cody’s Creek?
And what of Elisa Lopez? She was the same age as Sarah, and yet she’d had two children, become homeless, and for some reason abandoned them.
Her mother and Elisa had felt unable to be a parent any longer. What caused a person to come to such a desperate conclusion? One Englisch woman and one Amish—both running from something. When you were frightened enough to run away from those you loved, perhaps it didn’t matter if you were Englisch or Plain. Either way, you were lost.
With prayers for those two women on her lips, Sarah fell into a deep and restful sleep.
She awoke just before dawn when she heard Andy and Henry tromping down the stairs. And Mia? The little girl had crawled into her bed sometime during the night. She lay on her side, clutching an Amish doll.
CHAPTER 38
Paul officially joined the Plain community of Cody’s Creek on Sunday morning. Because he’d already been a member of his church back in Indiana, there wasn’t a need for baptism or new member classes.
Instead, Bishop Levi introduced him to the congregation. “You all know Paul already, Joseph’s bruder. He’s been here with us since Joseph’s surgery, and now he is joining our congregation.”
There were murmurs of amen throughout Joshua Kline’s home. Paul noticed Becca and Sarah smiling at one another, though he had no idea what that was about.
“Paul’s presence here today is one more example of how Gotte took something we would consider bad and turned it to our gut. No one would have wished for Joseph’s heart attack, but through it we now have another member—someone to minister t
o us. Someone we can minister to. Gotte is faithful to build the body of Christ, and we trust that He will continue to do so.”
More words of agreement from those gathered, and then Levi said, “Also, remember he has purchased the old Fisher place, so let’s keep Paul in our prayers as he goes about the work of that restoration.”
They sang the last hymn, and the bishop officially dismissed the service. Folks immediately came forward to congratulate Paul and welcome him into the community. He’d seen it happen dozens of times back home, only then he’d been the one sitting out on the benches watching.
The men filed past him, welcoming him, as the women began setting out the food. The day was rainy, windy, and cold. “Winter’s last assertion,” Joseph had said as they prepared for church. Now his brother stood beside him, grinning as if he’d been personally responsible for Paul’s presence…and as the bishop had said, perhaps he was.
The meal was laid out on tables in the barn. Although it was slightly colder in the large building than in the house, where they’d had the morning’s service, Paul felt more at ease there than in the crowded home. Why was it that he felt more comfortable in a barn? Could be because he lived in one, but Paul suspected it was more than that. He could breathe here, where in the house, in most houses, he often felt as if he needed to move carefully, worried he might knock something over. It wasn’t that he was overly large or clumsy, only that he felt less hemmed in when outside or in the barn. Breathing space was what he’d longed for, and in Cody’s Creek he had found plenty of it.
After he filled his plate, he ended up sitting at the end of a long table next to Andy and Henry.
Andy said, “Been meaning to thank you for helping Sarah out on Friday.”
“Happy to do it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you were quite happy to sit in a car for an hour each way and spend the bulk of your day in downtown Tulsa.” Henry made a sandwich out of a slice of ham and a large biscuit, took a giant bite, and grinned at him.
“Wasn’t that bad.” Paul had wanted to stop over and check on the kids the day before, but he hadn’t felt it was his place to do so. “Saw Mateo standing with Isaac.”
“And Mia is never far from Sarah.”
“Both kids seem to be doing well.”
They all turned to look at Mateo, who was sitting with a group of kids from school, though he always seemed to be right at Isaac’s side.
Mia was shyly plastered nearly inside of Sarah’s apron, who was walking toward a table of women.
“There’s a singing tonight,” Andy said. “You could ask her.”
Paul nearly choked on his potato salad. “Are you talking to me?”
“You’re the one watching my schweschder.” Andy laughed as he picked up a piece of fried chicken from his plate. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s plain as the nose on your face that you’ve taken a fancy to Sarah.”
“I think you’ve been under the hood of your tractor too long.”
“Do you now?”
“Plainly it’s affecting your thinking.”
Henry and Andy shared a look. “Me thinks he protests too much,” Henry said, and then they both laughed.
Paul didn’t mind being the source of their amusement. But he did think he’d done a better job of hiding his feelings about Sarah. He didn’t even understand what he was feeling. How could he explain it to someone else, let alone her brothers? Safer to change the subject.
“I’m a bit old for singings,” he reminded them. “I gather you’re both going?”
“Oh, ya. We go every time,” Andy said.
“It’s my bruder’s only chance to be alone with his girl.”
“You have a girl?”
“I don’t,” Henry said. “It’s still fun to go, though.”
“And you, Andy?”
“You could say that I do.” He leaned forward and confided, “She let me give her a ride home last time.”
“Which meant I had to find another ride.” Henry seemed to enjoy teasing his brother and not all that perturbed about finding another way home. “I suspect the same will happen tonight.”
“Three’s a crowd,” Andy said, grinning.
“Does this girl have a name?”
“Sure does.” Andy pointed a chicken leg toward Sarah’s table. “Emma King. She’s the pretty girl sitting on the other side of Sarah.”
“Is it serious?”
“Could be.” Andy focused on cleaning his plate and refused to say another word on the subject.
Which Paul thought was more telling than any outright confession. He wondered if Sarah realized that her brother was courting someone. She’d never mentioned it, but then all they had ever actually talked about was Mateo and Mia.
What did he even know about Sarah? That she was pretty, had four brothers, and no parents. That she had a big heart. But he didn’t know what kind of pie she liked or whether she preferred sunny days to rain. She was special. He understood that, but if he were to try to describe her on the next phone call to his parents, he’d be hard pressed to do so.
There was no time like the present to change that.
CHAPTER 39
Sarah nearly dropped the dish of apple pie when Paul asked her if she’d like to go for a walk.
“It’s freezing outside.”
“Big barn. We could take a look at Joshua’s horses.”
How had he known that she’d been wishing for a few moments away from so many people? She pushed the plate holding the apple pie to the center of the table.
Mia sat on a stool beside the table, playing with an Amish doll. Paul squatted down in front of her. “Hello, Mia. How are you today?”
“Paul, up!” She practically threw herself into his arms.
Laughing, Paul raised her high into the air.
“I didn’t realize she even knew your name.”
“Well, of course she does. I carried her into the house when she was all sleepy on Friday.”
For her answer, Mia patted his face and turned her attention to undressing her doll.
“Perhaps a walk would be gut.” Sarah grabbed the shawl she’d placed over her bag. “Would you like to go for a walk, Mia?”
“Why?”
“Because it will be fun.”
“Why?”
“Because barns always are.”
“Why?”
Sarah shrugged and turned to Paul. “Up and why—they are her two favorite words.”
“Why?” Mia asked, causing both Paul and Sarah to laugh.
Sarah was worried they would have nothing to say, but Paul brought her up to date on the work he was doing at his place. “The barn has been thoroughly cleaned out, with the help of your bruders, and I’ve begun mending fences around my fields.”
“No progress on the house?”
“Nein. It will have to wait, which is okay. I’m comfortable enough in the barn.”
“I suppose you’re not the first bachelor to live in a barn.”
“And probably not the last.”
“You do want to move into the house, though. Right? Eventually?”
“I suppose. But it doesn’t strike me as a priority at the moment.”
He was just like her brothers. None of them seemed to notice piles of clothes, muddy tracks on the floor, or dirty dishes in the sink. Left to their own devices, each of them would probably choose to live in a barn.
They had reached the back wall, and Paul stopped in front of the last stall. Inside was one of Joshua’s buggy mares, and across from them was the other. The mare nudged Paul’s hand, looking for a treat, and he produced a cube of sugar.
“Do you always carry sweets in your pockets?”
“Comes in handy more often than you’d think.”
He handed another cube to Mia, and they walked to the other mare so she could feed it to the horse. Mia started to put it into her mouth.
“No, honey. Give it to the horse.”
“Why?” Mia puckered her lips and tried to feed the su
gar cube to Paul.
In spite of herself, Sarah burst out laughing. It was such a funny sight—the small Hispanic girl, large Amish man, and a horse poking her head in the middle of the two. Eventually, Mia relented and fed the mare. Then she insisted on being let down and made a game of running from one side of the aisle to the other, touching the wall each time and saying “horse” when she did.
Paul spied a wooden crate and turned it over so Sarah could sit on it.
“Take a load off. You barely sat at all this morning. You ate in record time, and then you popped up to help with the dishes.”
Had Paul Byler been watching her? The thought embarrassed Sarah, so she changed the subject, but she did sit on the crate. Her feet were actually tired from the long morning of church and serving.
“All right, but we need to keep an eye on little Mia. She’s turned disappearing into an art form.”
Paul sat beside her on the ground. “Still hiding?”
“Every chance she gets.”
Paul started laughing. Mia turned to look at him, and the smile that spread across her face once again melted Sarah’s heart.
“You’re beautiful, you know.” Paul’s voice had turned husky. “When you smile like that, when you stop worrying about things…you’re beautiful inside and out, Sarah Yoder.”
She didn’t know what to say. She stammered, she blushed, and she forced herself to look away from Paul’s warm brown eyes and playful smile. And that was when she noticed that Mia was once again gone.
They found her ten minutes later. Somehow she’d managed to squeeze between an old slop bucket and a shelf in an empty stall.
“What if she’d gotten in with the horses?”
“That’s impossible. She couldn’t have opened the latch.”
“I suppose.”
For her part, Mia apparently thought it was great fun and clapped when they found her, throwing herself at Sarah and commanding that she lift her “up!”
“Mia, no more hiding.”
“Why?” She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout and hid her face in Sarah’s dress.
“We need to work on her vocabulary.”
“It will come with time,” Paul assured her.
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