Love Inspired June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: The Cowboy's HomecomingThe Amish Widow's SecretSafe in the Fireman's Arms

by Carolyne Aarsen

  Mose turned on an overhead light and glanced back at her and then the girls. “Everything good back there?” His tone was calm but his face appeared tense, his brow furrowed. Was he having second thoughts? Did he regret marrying her? Was he concerned how his family would react to her now that they were almost there?

  “Everyone’s good,” Linda chimed in, grinning.

  The light went out and Sarah breathed in. She had to stop holding her breath.

  “I’m hungry,” Beatrice spoke in the darkness, drawing Sarah’s attention.

  “I’ll find you a snack,” Sarah said, rummaging through the diaper bag. Her fingers hit the pregnancy test tucked deep at the bottom of the bag and she froze. Had Mose seen the box when he’d grabbed Mercy’s bottle moments before they’d driven off?

  She found the plastic container of cheese crackers and handed several to Beatrice. “These ought to tide you over until we get to your grandmammi Theda’s house, sweetheart.” She closed her eyes and prayed, determined in her heart to be a good wife and mother.

  She’d dozed off, and then someone said, “Sarah. It’s time to wake up.”

  Sarah blinked and looked directly into kind blue eyes. It was Mose. Reality rushed in and she struggled to wake up completely. “I’m sorry. I must have dozed off.” She blinked and looked around. It was growing dark outside, the small van light shining overhead. Her prayer kapp lay in her hand. With care she searched for her pins and put the wrinkled covering back on her head.

  “It’s been a long and tiring trip. I’m not surprised you nodded off.”

  Her body felt sore from sitting still for so long. She struggled to step out of the van. Mose offered his hand and she grasped it, noticing the roughness of his warm palms. “Where are we?” She looked into the creeping darkness shrouding the last rays of sunlight. Rows of wood-framed white houses lined the short street, the van parked in a long gravel driveway. The flat yard, filled with sand, grass and palm trees, was illuminated by a tall black gas lantern positioned at the front of the box-shaped white house trimmed with black storm shutters.

  “This is my mother and father’s home. We’ll be staying with them for a few days. Just until we can move into a home of our own,” he reassured her.

  “Yes. You did tell me that on the train.” She shook out her skirt and fussed with her kapp, making sure it was pinned in the right places.

  Mose held her arm for support until she started moving toward the door. Thick grass underfoot made walking difficult. She almost fell. Mose grabbed her around the waist, stabilized her and then took his arm away from her midsection. “You okay now?”

  It had been a long time since she’d been held so close. His hand felt natural. It was as if he belonged with her. She pushed the thought away. Mose was in love with his dead wife. They had an arrangement. Nothing more. She stepped on the wide porch step. The wood creaked underfoot. A line of white rockers with colorful cushions welcomed her. A bright electric bulb attached to the door frame washed the big porch in artificial daylight.

  The front door flew open and Beatrice came racing out. A smaller, dark-haired girl followed close behind.

  “Where are you going, young lady?” Mose asked and grabbed his daughter by the sleeve.

  “To Grandmammi Ulla’s. She has candy for me.” A layer of thick chocolate candy smeared a dark circle around Beatrice’s mouth.

  “I think asking permission to go out is in order, don’t you?” Mose used the palm of his hand to turn and lead Beatrice back into the house. Her little friend followed meekly behind.

  Beatrice’s outburst of tears came instantly. Mose moved through a small group of welcoming people and headed to the back of the house. A dining-room table burdened with food blocked his path. Plain men and women sat at the table together, something Sarah had never seen before. Old Order Amish folk ate separately, the men always first while the women were busy feeding the kinder.

  Beatrice tried to run off, but Mose caught her by the collar of her dress. “I think some time in the back bedroom is the answer to all this commotion.”

  An older woman, her gray hair wrapped in a tight bun and covered with a perfectly positioned prayer kapp, lifted her portly body to her feet. Her blue eyes flashed fire. “You’ve upset her now. It will take me hours to calm her down. Why don’t you let me take care of this and you find yourself a spot at the table?”

  Sarah stood just inside the great room’s door watching the scene play out across the room. “I could...” she began, only to be cut off by Mose.

  “Danke, Sarah, but I think I can manage this young rebel without anyone’s help.”

  The woman turned in Sarah’s direction and glared at her with a hard stare that twisted her features. “Who is this woman and why is she here, Mose?”

  “This is none of your concern, Ulla. As Greta’s mother, I’m sure you only want what’s best for Beatrice and meant no harm, but babying the kinder only makes her moods worse.”

  Mose turned toward Sarah, Beatrice still in tow. He motioned for Sarah to join him and then put his arm around her waist as they walked toward the dining-room table at the back of the room. “Mamm, Daed, let me introduce you to someone very special. This is Sarah, my new frau. We met in Lancaster and married there. I hope you will make her feel willkummed in your haus.”

  Sarah didn’t know what to do or say. She stood stone still next to Mose, watching the tiny woman who birthed Mose smile at her in bemusement from across the table. How could such a small woman have given birth to someone as large as Mose? His mamm looked to be in her late sixties. Even dressed in Amish clothes, she looked more Englisch than plain because of her wild shock of red hair. Thick locks pushed at her prayer kapp from every angle and left it tilted in disarray.

  His father, an older version of Mose, wore his blunt cut, blondish-gray hair to his ears. His beard reached his shirt front. Impressive gray streaks blended in with wiry red and blond strands, making him look distinguished.

  She waited for their reaction to Mose’s declaration. Let this go well. Linda came over and put her arm around Sarah’s shoulders in a show of solidarity.

  Mose’s mother looked at her husband in confusion, as if someone had just said the moon was made of green cheese. His father, clear-eyed and alert, was the first to come to grips with Mose’s words. “Willkumm! Congratulations, my son and new daughter. This is gut news. It’s time you found a woman, Mose. Come, Sarah. Sit with us, and eat. You have to be tired from your long journey.”

  The look on Mose’s father’s face told her he knew who she was. He’d grown up with Bishop Miller. Mose had told her they were still friends. He must have heard everything by now. News traveled fast in their world. He restrained himself as he spoke words of welcome he might not feel. “I’m sure you will make my son very happy. Bitte, sit. Its humble food we offer, but I’m sure you’re used to eating this plain way.”

  Several people rose from the table and took their plates to the front of the house, making room for them at the long table. Sarah and Linda chose a spot next to each other. Sarah’s stomach roiled, the meal’s aroma so strong she thought she might be ill. “Danke for your warm willkumm.” She struggled to smile. “I’m sure my arrival has come as quite a surprise to you all.”

  A loud voice rang out in the great room. “I will not be hushed. Mose had no right. No right. Greta is barely cold in the grave and he marries this woman. I will not have it, do you hear.” The front door slammed shut. Silence screamed through the house.

  Sarah looked around for Greta’s mother, the silver-haired woman who’d made such a fuss just moments before. She and the beautiful young woman standing next to her had disappeared from the gathering.

  Linda reached for a bowl of buttery potatoes placed in front of Sarah, and whispered in her ear. “That was Greta’s mother. She’s upset. Time will heal her pain and anger.”

  Sarah’s stomach churned. She took the bowl of potatoes and quickly passed them to the man on her right. The smell of them was
more than she could manage. Reaching out, she grabbed a hot roll and stuffed it in her mouth and chewed fast. Please, Gott. Don’t let me get sick. Please. She glanced up and saw Mose’s mother looking at her, her brow knitted with a questioning glance. Mose had sisters and brothers. The older woman had been pregnant many times. Did she know already, just by the look on Sarah’s face, that she was pregnant?

  When the meal was over and Theda and her two teenage granddaughters had cleared the dishes away, the men made themselves comfortable on a well-stuffed couch in the great room. Linda led the way to the back bathroom.

  Beatrice, excited by the promise of bubbles in her bathwater, undressed herself with lightning speed. Sarah undressed Mercy and slipped the toddler into the warm, sudsy water next to her older sister. “The bubbles tickle me,” Beatrice insisted, splashing water toward her little sister, who cried the moment the water touched her warm body.

  “That wasn’t very nice,” Sarah scolded and felt disappointed when the girl didn’t seem the least bit ashamed of her actions. She had splashed Mercy in the face intentionally. Sarah knew the child needed discipline, but wasn’t sure what to do. She handed Mercy over to Linda and took a seat nearer Beatrice. In her most authoritative voice, she said. “I think it best you wash and get out, Beatrice.”

  Beatrice ignored her directions and dived under the water, coming up as slick as a seal. Sarah took the washcloth Linda handed her and began to apply soap to the soft rag. Hitting all the important spots, she cleaned Beatrice as the child wiggled and squirmed to get away. With a fluffy white towel she’d pulled from the rail, she wrapped it around Beatrice and pulled the resisting child from the tub. As soon as Beatrice’s feet hit the bathroom rug she tried to get away from Sarah’s grasp and run. Sarah held her by the arm.

  “Perhaps tomorrow, after you’ve thought about how you scared Mercy, you can have a longer bath. But for tonight, it’s bedtime for you.”

  Sobbing, Beatrice slapped at Sarah’s hands but finally put up with being dried as a shiver hit her.

  “Sounds like someone needs an early night.” Mose stood in the bathroom door, his hand braced against the wood framework. He smiled at Sarah, but his brows lowered as he glanced over at Beatrice. “We’ve talked about this before, young daughter. Your sister does not like water splashed in her face.”

  Beatrice shrugged but seemed to know better than to talk back to her father. “I’m sorry, Daed. I was just having fun.”

  “I don’t think Mercy was having fun. Do you?”

  “Nee.”

  “Tell your sister you’re sorry.” Mose waited.

  “I’m sorry, Mercy.” Beatrice’s frown told Sarah this spoiled little girl would need a lot of love and training in order to set her on a straight path.

  Mose glanced at Sarah. “I guess we’ve let her get away with too much. It was hard to know when to discipline and when to overlook her behavior.”

  Sarah thought of Greta and how much this child must miss her mother. Any child would act out after the loss of her mother. She thought back to her own behavior after her mother had left, and sighed. “Time and lots of love will work all this out.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Mose smiled at Sarah.

  Mose was a sweet and understanding man. Sarah only hoped she could someday give him what he deserved. A wife’s love.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mose drained the last drops of his second mug of coffee and reached for the pot.

  “Too much of that will put your nerves on edge.”

  Mose poured a half cup and flashed his mother a welcoming smile. “Guder mariye, Mamm.”

  She scuffed toward the deep farm sink. A black apron already draped her light pink day dress. Her swollen feet were stuffed into the same fluffy blue house shoes she wore every morning, the bright shade of blue a secret passion of hers. After grabbing a white cup from the open shelf overhead, she pulled out a wooden chair and joined him at the small kitchen table littered with egg-smeared breakfast dishes.

  Sunlight streamed in through the small window at the sink, filling the once dim room with the bright yellow glow of early morning. For as long as he could remember, his mother had risen with the sun and gone to bed with the chickens. “I know I drink too much coffee. I have a lot to do today and not a lot of time to do it in. I need the energy.” Mose poured her a cup of the dark brew. He murmured a laugh when she scooped out three heaping teaspoons of sugar and made a terrible racket stirring the coffee, erasing the evidence of her sweet tooth.

  Mose patted her wrinkled hand and met her gaze. She’d done her best to pin down her prayer kapp but a froth of ginger curls, brought on by high humidity, had left her disheveled. He noticed deeper lines and wrinkles on her face and made a mental note to spend more time with her now that he was home. She was getting older and he wanted her to know how much she meant to him. “Everyone still sleeping?”

  “All but your daed. He woke up with the roosters. He had an early job over at the big house he bought last week.”

  “I didn’t know he was interested in enlarging the community.” Mose downed the last of his coffee and added his heavy mug to the pile of dishes in front of him.

  “He’s been talking about expanding for months and is excited about this last haus purchase now that you’ve remarried. You’ll be needing a new place to live. He’s decided to fix it up real nice for you and Sarah.”

  Mose watched his mother draw circles on the wooden table, a sign she wanted to talk. She probably needed to ask a few questions. Questions he had no interest in answering. “He doesn’t have to do that, Mamm. The kinder have loved living here the last year, but Sarah and I can start out our marriage at my haus for a while. I’m sure the girls will feel more at ease in familiar surroundings.”

  She looked at him, her brows furrowing. “Do you really think your new wife will want to live with all of Greta’s things around her, reminding her you had a beloved wife who died and left everything behind for her to dust?”

  Mose heard his mother’s common sense. “I hadn’t thought—”

  “Ach, a man wouldn’t, would he? But a woman would, and I can tell you, I’d have a problem with it. Let your daed do what he can to make you and Sarah comfortable in this new place. He wants to help, to feel useful in his old age. You can pay us rent until you find a different place if this house doesn’t suit Sarah. Or is your pride the issue?” Her ginger eyebrow went up in an arch. She knew how to push his buttons.

  “Nee, it’s not pride. I just didn’t think how living around Greta’s things would make Sarah feel. She deserves her own home, things that make her happy.”

  “She does.” His mother busied her fingers tidying her kapp. “I’m not sure what’s going on between you and Sarah, but I know you. I trust your wisdom. She’s only been a widow for six months. I can’t see how she’d be over Joseph’s death so soon, not the way I hear those two were in love. You showed no interest in getting a new frau before you left. All this leaves a mamm to wonder what’s going on. There’s been rumors floating around and people talking. Some say Sarah was to be shunned before you married her. I was wondering if it’s true.”

  “Ignore the rumors. You know how people are. They have too much empty time on their hands. Do you really think I’d have married Joseph’s widow if there hadn’t been a good reason? Sarah and I need each other, so we got married. It’s as simple as that. Joseph would have done anything for me, and I’m just making sure his widow is well cared for. You know better than I that love can grow from friendship. You and Daed married after knowing each other just two weeks.”

  “Now, let’s not go throwing stones in my direction,” his mother said with a frown. She snatched up his dishes and started to stand.

  “Mamm, my girls needed a mamm. Sarah needed a husband. If she was good enough for Joseph, she’s good enough for me. We struck a deal. She makes me happy and I think she’s happy, too. Time will tell if we can make a strong marriage out of this friendship. I trust Gott to direct us
, and as long as the girls are happy and well cared for...that’s all I need.”

  Placing her son’s dishes in the sink, she turned on the faucet and ran water. Sloshing the dishes around, she turned toward him, a playful glint in her blue eyes. “You know I never meddle. Do what’s best. I didn’t mean to sound critical of your choices.”

  Mose smiled at his petite mamm, but then got serious. “I do have something I need to talk to you about, and I don’t want you to start to worry.” He watched her cheerful smile disappear.

  “You sound so serious. Is it Sarah?” She sat back down, her damp hands flat on the table.

  Mose shrugged. “No, Sarah’s fine, but she did notice Mercy has difficulty hearing. We’re taking her to the pediatrician. I called their office a minute ago. We have an appointment this afternoon.” He patted her hand. “I don’t want you to worry. Sarah said this could be nothing more than built-up ear wax, but we need to be sure. Please don’t mention any of this to anyone.”

  “If you mean to Ulla, of course I won’t. She’s already upset with you for bringing home a wife. What do you think I am, a trouble-making gossip?”

  Mose laughed out loud. Gossip was the Amish woman’s television. “Of course I don’t. It’s just better to know what we’re dealing with before we mention to family that Mercy might be deaf.”

  “Oh, dear. You think it could be that bad? But if she is, we must know this is Gott’s will for her life.” She reached out for his hand, her fingers digging into his skin.

  Mose unplugged his charging cell phone from the electrical outlet and turned back to his mother. “As soon as we find out what’s up, I’ll call you from the doctor’s office. I’m leaving my phone on the table so you won’t worry any longer than you have to.”

  His mother’s face paled. She took the phone and slid it into her apron pocket.

  * * *

  Mose had no memory of ever being in a doctor’s office. Greta always took the girls to their medical appointments. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t this big, modern office, or the crowd of people peppered around the room. Comfortable-looking chairs lined walls painted a pleasant tan color. Pictures of Englisch children’s favorite cartoon characters were everywhere.