“I will not go to sleep. I’m not tired and I want my real mamm to pat my back, but she’s with Gott. Grandmammi Ulla says I’m not to ask for her, but I want her.” Fresh tears began to pour down her already mottled face. “I wish I was with her. I hate you,” Beatrice shouted, then twisted around and buried her face in her small pillow, sobbing in earnest.
Mose began to rise but Sarah stopped him. “Nee, please don’t scold her again. What she says is true. I’m not her real mother. She’s confused by her feelings. She needs time to adjust. She’s just tired and cranky from the long train ride. She’ll be asleep any moment now and everything will be okay.”
* * *
Beatrice curled herself into a small ball on the train’s bench seat, snuggled close to her sister and together the two girls hugged. Mose watched Sarah’s expression and saw love sparkle in her eyes as she soothed his eldest daughter. Kinder could be so hurtful without realizing the gravity of their cruel words.
Beatrice finally ran out of steam and grew quiet. He reached over and took Sarah’s small, soft hand in his and smiled, wishing this emotionally frail woman knew what a gift she was to him. A mother for his kinder, someone who’d love them no matter what. To him she was lovely and priceless. He squeezed her fingers and smiled. “I’m sorry. I know her words must have hurt.”
“She’ll come around. You’ll see.” Sarah squeezed his hand. “There are times I’d like to stamp my foot and cry myself,” she confessed.
“You must be tired.” Mose hadn’t missed Sarah’s yawn or the way she pulled her hand away and tucked it under the fullness of her skirt. He had to remember she was still a widow grieving for her dead husband. Sarah had only been mourning Joseph for six months. Not nearly long enough to welcome him into her heart. What a fool he was.
“I didn’t know you worked in the school back in Lancaster.” He lightened the mood with his chatter and watched her facial expression relax.
“Yes, I did, but only for a short while. We had an abundance of trainable girls, and I took my turn when it came. Naturally I failed miserably as a teacher. I just wasn’t the right material for such a job. I turned to quilt-making instead. I love to sew.”
“My wife is—” He stopped himself, and his smile disappeared.
“Please, go on. I want you to feel free to talk about your wife.” Sarah’s smile looked genuine.
“Danke. I appreciate your understanding. Sometimes her name just slips out. It’s almost as if she’s still alive in Florida and waiting for me to come home.”
“I understand. I often wake and think Joseph is out in the fields...until I remember he’s dead.”
“His death was so sudden. There was no warning, no illness to give you time to prepare.” Mose lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his curls.
“And so final. I still find it hard to believe he’s dead, even though I know he is. There was no body to see. Joseph was always careful with the gas lights. I was the one he said would burn the house down some day with my carelessness.” One lone tear slid down her cheek.
He leaned toward her. “You’re a good woman, Sarah Fischer. Without you I’d be a lonely man heading back to an empty home. I don’t believe for a moment you caused Joseph’s death.”
* * *
Moments later, the aroma of coffee moved closer to their table. A wave of nausea washed over Sarah. She fought hard to hold down her meal but knew she had to make a run to the bathroom or throw up on one of the sleeping kinder. “I’ll be right back.” She sailed past Mose and quickly maneuvered around arriving diners.
The door to the bathroom was unlocked. She burst in, her hand to her mouth, frantically looking for an open toilet door. She got as far as the row of shiny sinks and lost all hope.
A female voice said, “Oh, you poor girl. Let me get a cold compress for your neck. That always helped me when I was pregnant.”
Sarah looked into the mirror and watched as a stout Englisch woman of about sixty wet down the fluffy white washcloth she’d jerked from her makeup bag. “I’m fine, really. I’m not pregnant. I’m fine.”
“Nonsense. You’re not fine at all. Let me at least put the cloth on your neck. It’s a trick my dear ol’ mama taught me as a child.” The older woman’s gaze locked with Sarah’s in the mirror. She approached and gently laid the cold cloth across Sarah’s heated neck. Relief was instantaneous and much needed. A few moments of deep breathing and Sarah began to feel better.
“How far along are you?” the woman asked as she washed her hands.
Sarah froze. She thinks I’m pregnant? What foolishness. There was no way she could be pregnant. Joseph died almost six months ago. She would have known before this if she was pregnant. Wouldn’t she?
The woman sat down on a short bench against the wall and continued to smile at Sarah. “I assume this baby is a wanted child.”
For the first time, Sarah allowed herself to think about what it would mean to be carrying Joseph’s child. She’d have a part of him she could treasure forever. Joy shot through her and she began to count her skipped periods, the ones she’d thought stress had caused her to miss. It had been over five months since her last one. She lifted her head and smiled back at the woman through the mirror. “If I am pregnant, he or she would be a gift from Gott.”
“I have three gifts from God and one is driving me nuts right now, but he’s still my little boy at thirty-nine.”
Sarah moved to a clean sink, and then wiped her pale face.
How would she explain to Mose she might have to see a midwife? Her mind had been so preoccupied with Joseph’s loss, the missed cycles hadn’t worried her. Dealing with her father’s demands about selling the farm after Joseph’s death had kept her out of sorts and in a flux of grief.
What kind of reaction would she get from Mose when she told him about the possibility of a bobbel? She knew he was a good man, but could she ask him to raise another man’s child? A pregnancy might be more than he bargained for.
The Englisch woman smiled at Sarah before they left the bathroom. “Good luck with that new baby.”
“Danke,” Sarah murmured and followed her out the door.
Sarah slid into the bench next to a still sleeping Mercy and sipped her water. “I’m sorry I took so long.”
The Englisch woman walked over to Mose and Sarah. “You have lovely children, ma’am.” The woman continued to walk down the narrow aisle. “I’m sure this next child will be just as darling as the other two.”
“Stomach problems again?” Mose asked. “You’re as white as a sheet.”
Sarah felt in a state of shock. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Could I be pregnant?
Chapter Eight
Mose glanced up from the checker board, his gaze resting on Sarah’s face. “We’re almost in Tampa. You should hurry. You might not have time to make that last move you’re so busy contemplating.” He grinned. She scowled back but then broke out into a wide smile, her fingers poised. Alone on the board full of black checkers, his last red king sat ready to be served up.
Her teasing expression made her face appear young and spirited. She wore an impish grin of victory. “I have time for this.” She moved her black checker toward his lone red king and snatched it off the board.
“Beginner’s luck,” Mose taunted, laughing at the cross expression stealing her smile.
Sarah’s huff confirmed his suspicions. He had a competitive wife.
“We’ll see if its beginner’s luck next time we play.” She straightened the ribbons on her kapp, then busied herself with wiping drool from Mercy’s neck.
He loved that he’d married a feisty woman, and looked forward to their next checker game. He would only throw a game once. He was competitive, too.
The train’s arrival in Tampa was announced over the intercom. The man’s voice carried a heavy Southern accent. “Please remain seated while the train comes to a complete stop.”
“We’re finally home,” Beatrice declared with a deep sigh.
/>
Moments later Sarah held on to Beatrice and Mercy as the train lurched to a stop and people stood and gathered their belongings.
After grabbing the bag of small toys, she scooped up Mercy, and Mose inched his way off the train with Beatrice hanging off his back, the child’s thin arms locked around his sunburned neck. Her head bobbed as his long legs ate up the distance to the outer doors. “Let’s go, my little dumpling.” He laughed as he stepped off the train, turning to take Sarah’s hand as she stepped into the sweltering afternoon heat. “Danke,” she said.
Burdened with kinder and the carry-on bag, they made their way across the parking lot toward a small bus stop. Mose pulled out his cell phone from his pants, checked that it still had power and punched in numbers. “I’m calling my brother to let him know we’ve arrived. He should be here already,” he told Sarah.
“Your community allows the use of phones for everyday use?” Sarah watched him, amazement on her face as he spoke into the quickly dying phone, then ended his conversation.
Mose smiled. “Our phones are mostly for work. We get a lot of business calls from out of state. Customers have to be able to communicate with us. Without their furniture orders we’d quickly go out of business in this difficult economy.”
“I’m just not used to having one, that’s all. We always had to use the phone box across the road for emergencies.”
“My brother, Kurt, said they’re at the back of the parking lot under a tree.”
He watched relief spread across Sarah’s face as she glanced over at the big buses parked in rows on the glistening tar-covered parking lot. Had she thought they would be their mode of transportation to Sarasota? She was probably unprepared for a bus ride.
As they waited, loving family reunions erupted all around them. Smiling faces dotted the small bus walkway. Mingled among them were Amish and Mennonites alike, most dressed in plain clothes and sensible shoes. Seeing so many Amish in one place, Mose wondered if they reminded Sarah of the community and the people she’d left behind. He pushed away those thoughts and glanced around. He hoped she liked what she saw of Tampa. Palm trees grew everywhere and shops of every kind lined the wide streets. They’d arrived before the gray gloom of night could steal the day’s last glorious rays of sunshine. The tall, swaying palm trees gave the town a tropical feel. He hoped she’d find Sarasota just as beautiful as Tampa.
Mose swung Beatrice onto his shoulders and caught Sarah’s attention with the wave of his hand. “I don’t want you to be concerned about meeting Kurt. I spoke with him early this morning. He knows all about our marriage and is very happy for us. He knew Joseph, too. We all grew up together in Lancaster, as boys. When we heard about Joseph’s coming marriage, we both decided to go back up and help build the farmhouse. We wanted only the best for Joseph and his new bride.”
“Danke for all your work. So much was going on during that time. I failed miserably at giving a proper thanks to all the workers who came to do the hard work. You and Kurt must have thought me terrible.”
“Nee. I saw you at a distance one day and thought you lovely and Joseph a lucky man.”
Sarah blushed at his compliment. She clutched Mercy to her chest and looked away.
Mose leaned down and grabbed Sarah’s free hand, leading her away from the buses. Mose rubbed her wrist with his thumb and she smiled, accepting his touch.
Walking along with Sarah, a sudden breeze cooled his neck.
“What did you tell your bruder about our circumstances? Does he know I was going to be shunned? That you were there for me when I needed you most?”
“I told him I found you to be a wonderful woman who makes me happy. That’s all he needs to know.”
Sarah sighed deeply. Mose knew she probably dreaded meeting his family, but hoped for the best. Will they accept her after all the rumors floating between Lancaster and here? He longed for a start fresh for her in Pinecraft, the tiny Amish community he lived in just outside of Sarasota. Gott had provided a haven for her. There were a lot of things she didn’t know about his family, but he knew them to be generous with their love.
Just feet away, a shiny black van with the sign Fischer’s Transport came into view. Sarah’s brows lifted. She tugged at Mose’s hand, her questioning gaze seeking his. “Who owns the van?”
Beatrice broke free of her father’s grip and ran toward the front passenger door, her small fists pounding on the metal as she yelled, “Unlock the door, Aenti Linda. We’re finally home.”
Mose waved at someone inside and placed his hand lightly on Sarah’s back, directing her closer to the back passenger door. “My bruder does.”
“I’m surprised he doesn’t drive a horse-drawn wagon.” Sarah knew her words came out sounding judgmental. She hadn’t meant to be rigid. The idea of riding in the back of this huge vehicle, instead of an Amish wagon, left her breathless with anticipation.
“Kurt usually brings the mini bus, but tonight you get a special treat and get to ride in his new touring van.”
Sarah wasn’t so sure riding in the back of a van was a special treat, but she would tolerate anything to get a chance to settle the kinder down and get some rest. They walked up to the driver’s door and she held her breath. Gott, let them like me.
* * *
“Hoe gaat het, bruder?” Mose greeted his lanky younger brother with a bear hug and several warm-hearted back slaps. He grinned at his sibling’s attempt at growing a beard since his recent marriage, the beard unkempt and scraggly. Reddish-blond hairs jutted in all directions. “I see you’re having some problems here.” Mose jerked the straggly beard and laughed. “I hope your marriage is going better than this mess.”
“Not everyone can jut out a forest of hair in weeks, bruder.” Kurt laughed.
Enjoying his brother’s discomfort, Mose grinned over at his sister-in-law, Linda. Beatrice had already managed to connect herself to the thin woman, her blond head snuggled against her chest.
Mose brushed aside a momentary pang of concern for Linda. Pregnant with her first child, she didn’t look a day over seventeen, even though he knew her to be close to Sarah’s age. She oozed healthy confidence and looked forward to the birth of her first child. Not everyone had complications. But Greta had. Gott, let all will go well for this baby.
“You’re looking very rosy-cheeked and happy,” Mose teased. “Pregnancy seems to suit you. It’s given you that motherly glow everyone talks about.”
He watched as Linda glanced over at Sarah and a smile lit her face. Not prepared to explain anything about Sarah and their marriage, he pretended to pat Linda’s tiny, protruding tummy.
Kurt seemed happy now that he had married his childhood sweetheart. Mose grinned. He would pray for an easy birth for Linda and leave their fate in Gott’s capable hands.
Standing behind him, Sarah tried to hide herself. He reached around and urged his new wife forward to introduce her. “This is Sarah, my frau.”
* * *
Sarah had never been a shy person, but today she felt dimwitted and backward. She had dreaded meeting Mose’s family and worried they might reject her. Only Gott knew what Kurt must think of her, marrying his bruder so soon after Joseph’s death. Amish custom in her Old Order community required a two-year waiting period to remarry and, even then, people would talk about the short interval. She moved forward and did her best to smile at him in a friendly manner.
Kurt extended his hand. Sarah took it and he squeezed her fingers in a firm grip. She was surprised at the Englisch gesture coming from an Amish man. Back in Lancaster, hand-shaking was often avoided. She had to keep reminding herself she didn’t live under harsh rules anymore. This new community would allow her freedoms she’d always longed for. Everything will be okay, please Gott.
Kurt looked nothing like Mose with the exception of his piercing blue eyes. He had a slight but muscular build, with a thick mass of sandy red hair. His skin color, which should have been pale and freckled, looked tan and glowed from the warm days in Florida�
�s sunshine.
Sarah finally allowed her gaze to move to her new sister-in-law and her knees almost buckled with relief. Linda Troyer stood at Kurt’s side. She was an old friend Sarah had known since childhood. They’d gone to school together, and years later, had taught the younger kinder during the same semesters. Linda smiled at her, draining all the stress and fear from Sarah’s body.
“Linda Troyer! I can’t believe my eyes. I knew you’d moved to Florida, but I didn’t know you knew Mose’s family.”
“Kurt and I got married last fall, just a few months after my family moved down here. My last name’s Fischer now, like yours.” The two women hugged tightly, their reunion as warm as the brothers had been. Their happy tears mingling as they kissed each other’s cheeks and laughed.
“I forgot. You did tell me you’d met a man named Fischer during rumspringa a couple of years ago. I guess I was too wrapped up in my own courting and coming marriage to Joseph to remember everything. Forgive me.”
Linda grabbed Sarah’s hand. “I don’t know how you forgot. I must have mentioned Kurt’s name a million times. I bored you with details for weeks. Remember, you even threw a going-away party when my family decided to leave for Florida. Your dad got so mad at me for dancing like a heathen in your front yard. Don’t you remember him running me off and calling me an ugly name?” Linda laughed as she drew Sarah close for another hug, her fingers pinching Mercy’s chubby cheeks before she leaned away. “Those were the good ole days. I’ve missed you.”
Sarah grinned. “I probably missed you more. I am so thrilled that you’re living in Florida.”
“Not just Florida. We live in Sarasota, at Pinecraft. We’re going to have the best time picking out a new home for you that’s close to ours. You won’t mind, will you, Mose?”
Both women turned toward the two silent men standing next to the van.
Strong emotions flitted across Mose’s face, his brow furrowed, but his words came out friendly and light. “Wherever you want to live is fine with me. As long as it’s near the schoolhouse.” His smile seemed genuine, but there was still something in his expression, something she couldn’t define that troubled her.
Love Inspired June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: The Cowboy's HomecomingThe Amish Widow's SecretSafe in the Fireman's Arms Page 27