The king-size bed he’d told her about came into view and he slowed. “That’s the bed I mentioned. Do you think it’s going to fit the room okay?”
Sarah glanced toward the bed and then turned to Linda. The women exchanged looks he couldn’t read. Neither of them spoke for a moment. Linda finally said, “It’s lovely. Did you make the frame?”
“I did. Just finished the project this morning with a mattress set. I’m having it sent over to the house this afternoon if it meets with your approval, mein frau.”
Sarah’s skin grew pink. “I love it. It will make a fine bed for us. Danke.”
Mose nodded. “Gut, I’m glad you like it.” In Lancaster he’d felt sure this arranged marriage would work as just a convenience. But now? His heart had become engaged. These new feelings for Sarah made him uncomfortable, as though he was being unfaithful to his dead wife, but he was growing to care for Sarah. Very much.
“There’s two sets of dining-room furniture to choose from over there.” Mose gestured toward two large wood tables and matching chairs at the back of the showroom. His voice sounded perfectly normal, but he didn’t feel normal. He felt like a fool torn between two women. One vibrantly alive. The other...dead.
Sarah and Linda moved toward the tables and examined the matching chairs, their voices low as they chatted and compared styles and colors. Sarah let her hand slide across the smooth surface of the light oak top. “I like this one.” The oblong table with simple lines also appealed to him.
Mose motioned to Samuel. “Make sure that dining-room set goes on the truck, too.”
“Will do.”
“I have to get back to work, Sarah. I can hear my phone ringing.” Mose hurried away, leaving the two women to look around the big store on their own. As he grabbed the phone, he threw his hat on his desk and plopped down in his chair, his thoughts on Sarah and the pending birth of the bobbel, rather than the customer talking in his ear.
* * *
The rain shower passed. Linda chatted as she drove the cart, her thoughts about the furniture they’d seen bubbling out. Sarah couldn’t shake the feeling something had been wrong when they’d met up with Mose. He’d seemed quiet and distracted before they left. “Do you think Mose was acting himself?”
“What?”
“Mose. Did he seem tense to you. Withdrawn?”
“Nee, just busy. Why?” Linda frowned over at Sarah as she drove down the main road to Pinecraft.
“I just thought he wasn’t himself.”
“Maybe something’s up at work. Or he’s just behaving like a man. Kurt’s always acting strange. Men, they’re different. Kind of weird and romantic at the strangest times.”
Had she imagined his mood? He might have just been hungry or tired. “Do you think we could stop by a clothing store? Beatrice needs a few pairs of socks and that sweater she wears is terrible. I’ll make her one for winter, but for now a store-bought one will have to do.”
“I have a better idea. Why don’t we go pack up the rest of her clothes and take them to the new house. We’ve got plenty of time before we have to be back.” Linda did a quick turn down an unfamiliar street and pulled into the driveway of a simple white house.
Sarah realized this had to be the home Greta and Mose had shared. “I think I’ll wait in the cart.”
“Don’t be silly. Mose won’t mind you coming in. He’s had the place locked up for almost a year. It’s time Beatrice has all her things, and someone’s got to bring the clothes over to the new haus anyway. It might as well be us.”
Sarah slid out of the cart. “Do you have keys?”
“Sure. I used to babysit Beatrice when she was little, before the temper and your bad influence on her.” Linda grinned. “She’s become a little terror since Mercy was born.”
“She got a new sister and lost her mamm. That’s a lot for a four-year-old.” Sarah understood the child’s loss, but was being firm and consistent with her rules and affection.
Linda stuck the key in the lock. It turned with ease. The front door swung open to a dark house. “It smells dusty in here. Probably from being closed up for so long. Mose needs to think about selling this place or at least renting it out.”
Sarah stepped in and looked around, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. She bumped into an overstuffed chair and rubbed her shin. “No electricity?” She tried a switch and was surprised when the overhead light came on and a warm, inviting room was exposed.
Toys lay on the hardwood floors by a comfortable-looking overstuffed couch. Two glasses sat next to each other on the coffee table. The only time Mose had spoken of Greta at length, he’d said her labor had come on suddenly and had lasted for days. She’d hemorrhaged just hours after Mercy’s birth and had passed away quietly. She remembered how sad Mose had sounded when he’d told her there had been nothing the doctors could do.
A shiver scurried down her back. No one had disturbed the house in a long time. The dust layer was thick. This had to be the way the house had looked a year ago when they’d left in a hurry for the hospital, their hearts joyful, and the bobbel finally coming. She backed up toward the door, feeling like an intruder. This had been Mose and Greta’s home. She needed to leave.
“What are you doing here?”
Sarah whirled around, wishing the floor would open and swallow her. Mose stood at the doorway, his face pinched, a mask of pain. “I... We were...”
“Get out!” Mose’s tone was harsh, almost whip-like.
Sarah brushed past him in a run, her legs jelly under her, her hand protectively holding her stomach.
What have I done?
Chapter Fourteen
“Please be still, Mercy,” Sarah pleaded. “It’s almost time for your party and you’re not dressed.” Bending farther over the bed, Sarah raked her fingers through her disheveled hair and poked wayward strands under her kapp and out of her eyes.
She made a grab for one of Mercy’s chubby little legs. Wiggling like a worm, Mercy proved too fast and flipped over, her dimpled knees digging into the quilted bedcover. She quickly got away from Sarah, one shoe on, one shoe off. Mercy twisted into a sitting position and smiled a toothy grin.
“Ach, for a second pair of hands.” Sarah groaned and reached for Mercy again.
Out of thin air, Mose’s hand appeared and grabbed Mercy by the foot. He pulled her kicking and giggling toward Sarah. “She’s in rare form today.” He held the baby’s foot while Sarah quickly tugged on the shoe.
“Danke.” Sarah slipped the soft cotton dress she’d made for Mercy over the baby’s silky head. Two snaps up the back of the dress took forever to fasten. “Let me put your apron on and you’ll be ready to meet the world one year older.”
Mercy smiled at her and pulled her hand out of her mouth. “Ma...ma...ma,” Mercy cooed and grabbed for Sarah’s skirt with wet fingers.
“That’s right,” Sarah encouraged and slipped her white prayer kapp on her small head. “You practice your words. After tomorrow’s surgery you’ll be talking as well as your sister, I promise.” She quickly tied the two white ribbons under the child’s drool-soaked neck and lifted the baby into her arms.
Mose sat down on the edge of the bed and bent to remove his work shoes. “Put Mercy in her cot for a moment, please. We need to talk.”
They hadn’t spoken since Mose had ordered her out of his home that morning. Sarah tensed. His demeanor had alarmed her. She raked at her hair, trying to gather up the loose strands. All afternoon she’d replayed what had happened and had regretted her actions. She’d inadvertently crossed an invisible line. What he had to say couldn’t be good. Sarah sat Mercy in her bed with one of her favorite cloth books and turned back.
Bent at the waist, Mose placed his elbows on his thighs and sighed deeply. Sarah looked down at his clenched, white-knuckled hands. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. What I said earlier was out of line. Please forgive me.” Mose looked up, his eyes rimmed red, his face contorted with pain.
“You mustn�
�t ask for my forgiveness. I should never have gone to your haus without permission. I knew it was wrong the moment I stepped through the door. I ask for your forgiveness, Mose. I never meant to hurt you.” Sarah sat beside him, reaching to take his hand. Her insides trembled.
Mose turned to her. “You didn’t hurt me.” He patted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You didn’t hurt me at all. I hurt myself. Greta is dead. Life should go on, but I thought... I don’t know what I thought.” He dropped her hand and pushed his fist into the soft mattress. “I thought if I could keep the house the way it was the day she...perhaps Greta would come home again. I was crazy with pain. Out of my mind and not thinking clearly. That’s no excuse for my behavior. I know she’s never coming home. I have to face facts and get on with my life. The house needs to be emptied. Someone else will make it a home and bring it back to life with kinder running through the halls.”
Sarah squeezed his hand in hers and sighed. She knew the depths of his pain and understood completely. She’d left Joseph’s clothes at the foot of their bed for months, waiting for him, yet knowing he’d never wear them again. If someone had disturbed them she would have lashed out, too. Sarah wiped a tear from her cheek and blinked. They had this loss in common.
Mose’s eyes darkened. Deep lines cut into his forehead. “I’m selling the house. I hadn’t been back to our home since the day she died, and yesterday I sought clarity and closure. I needed to feel her presence one last time. I struggle with the fear that I might forget her, the way she smiled, the sound of her voice.”
His revelation shook her. Mercy chose that moment to cry and broke the bond of trust building between them. Sarah moved to the cot and picked up the squirming baby. “You’ll never forget her as long as you have your kinder, Mose. Greta lives on in them.”
Mose reached for Mercy. Sarah placed the child in his arms. She watched as he snuggled his face in her neck and whispered, “I have you, liebling.”
Sarah slipped out the door and hurried to the kitchen to help Theda finish the birthday meal. Father and daughter needed a moment together, and she needed time to remind herself she would have a baby soon. Her heart ached so deep in her chest it was almost painful. She worked on a fresh green salad, tearing lettuce leaves and slicing onions and tomatoes. Her child would never know the love of its daed, but it would have Mose, wonderful Mose, and for that she was grateful.
Explaining birthdays to a four-year-old became a battle royal minutes later. “Where is my cake?” Beatrice stamped her tiny foot against the kitchen tile. “Why does Mercy get a cake and not me?”
“It’s her first birthday. A time to rejoice with her. You’ll get a cake soon. Your birthday is just a few weeks away. That will be your special day.”
“Mercy never had a special day before.” Beatrice poked her finger toward the cake for a taste.
Sarah brushed her hand away just before the child’s finger reached the edge of the swirled buttercream frosting. “You could end up on the naughty step if you keep acting like this, Beatrice. Mercy is the birthday girl today. Next time you’ll be the birthday princess.”
“I don’t want Mercy to have a birthday. Mamm went to heaven because of Mercy. I heard my groossmammi say so. I want my mamm. Not Mercy.” Tears poured down the child’s face. Beyond control, Beatrice stormed into the bedroom and slapped her sister.
Sarah rushed into the room as Mercy cried out, and saw the deep red handprint on her face. Without a word, Mose scooped Beatrice away. The unhappy child kicked and screamed for her mamm as they hurried out of the bedroom. Sarah’s heart pounded in her ears as she lifted Mercy off the quilt on the floor and embraced her. She headed for the rocking chair and cuddled her. “It’s all right, liebling. Your sister is just unhappy. She loves you. She’s just missing your mamm and doesn’t know who to blame.” Sarah wept for Mose’s motherless kinder, for Mose’s loss and for her own baby to come.
When she returned to the kitchen, Theda moved around the wood island in the middle of the room, leaving the food she had been preparing. She wiped her hands on her apron, her forehead creased. “Don’t upset yourself, Sarah. Mose will deal with Beatrice. He’s good with her when she gets like this.”
“I just feel so sad for the kinder and Mose. Life can be so cruel.” Sarah brushed back the damp blond curls from Mercy’s forehead and pushed out a deep sigh.
“Death always hits the kinder hardest, Sarah. Beatrice doesn’t understand yet. She’s too young, and it doesn’t help that Ulla’s bitterness is rubbing off on her. Ach, only Gott knows what that old woman has said to her. I blame her for this outburst, not Beatrice. It’s time Otto had another long talk with Ulla. Maybe the threat of the ban will bring about change.”
Sarah was glad for her caring mother-in-law. By marrying Mose, she’d gained Theda, Otto and the rest of the Fischers as her family. She was truly blessed.
* * *
Two long tables with benches on either side provided enough room for everyone to sit together in the dining room. Men at one table, women and kinder at the other.
The afternoon drama seemed all but forgotten. Mercy ate her food and grinned when Sarah placed a slice of birthday cake on her tray.
Beatrice sat with her father, away from the other kinder. His arm pulled her back when she tried to get down from the bench.
“You’re deep in thought,” Linda murmured close to Sarah’s ear.
Sarah wished she had a private moment to talk to her friend. “I’m sorry. It’s been a difficult afternoon.”
Linda leaned closer. “I’ll bet. Did Mose give you a hard time about going to the house? I thought he was going to bust a blood vessel when he kicked us out.”
“He was very apologetic about the whole incident. He’s still grieving.”
Linda looked around, making sure no one was listening. “It’s been a year, Sarah. You’re more forgiving than I would be. I’d have Kurt’s head on a platter if he’d spoken to me like that.”
Sarah fed Mercy another bite of cake. “He’s been through a lot. I think he just reached his breaking point and lost control.”
“You’re too kind. He doesn’t deserve you, but I’m glad he’s got you.” Linda shrugged. “I guess I’m just mean-spirited. Why don’t we go make sure everyone’s got cake and get this mess cleared away? My feet are swollen, and I need to get home.”
Sarah nodded and wiped Mercy down before putting her on her unsteady feet. The baby toddled away and headed for the toy box in the corner.
Generous slices of cake were cut, and Sarah began to hand them out to the ladies who’d been busy serving and were still eating. Ulla sat at the head of the table. She looked away as Sarah approached and sat a plate of cake in front of her. With a shove, Ulla pushed the plate away and got up from the bench.
Linda pulled Sarah into the kitchen. “Don’t let that old woman get to you again. She’s full of bitterness. She’ll never forgive you for marrying Mose.”
Sarah ran hot water into the sink and added homemade soap. She slid a stack of dirty dinner plates into the swirl of soapy bubbles.
Linda kept up with Sarah, each piece placed on the island behind them until the last dirty dish was finished. “I’ll go get the silverware. Linda paused as she turned toward the door. “Was tut Sie hier?”
Sarah turned, her apron damp against her round stomach, wondering who Linda was talking to.
Ulla stood just inside the kitchen door, her burning gaze on Sarah. “I can’t have what I need, Linda. You know that. Gott has taken my Greta away from me, and Mose has replaced her with this woman,” she spat out in fury, her bony finger pointing in Sarah’s direction. “I will never accept her as the mamm of my enkelkinder. Nee. I know the wrong she’s done. She brings trouble. She will not be accepted in die familye as long as I breathe.” Ulla hurried out of the room, her loud weeping permeating the house just before the front door slammed behind her.
* * *
Sarah took off her kapp and laid it on a wave of wrinkled fabric
at her knees. She looked into the sky, through the palm tree next to the wooden steps and pushed a deep sigh through dry lips. Peeking out from palm tree fronds, the moon glowed golden and then disappeared.
Behind her the house grew dark, only a slice of light cut across the porch from the nightlight in the front bathroom. Winds carrying the scent of jasmine picked up and blew hard, mussing the knot of hair at the back of her head. Somewhere nearby a frog croaked, disturbing the blessed silence calming her troubled soul.
The words in her bruder’s recent letter came back to her. We’ve had a few chilly days and I thought of you in sunny Florida. A million miles away, Lancaster County shivered in the cold.
The screen door groaned and footfalls announced an intruder. Sarah turned and silently grumbled as she made out the shape of a man.
“Can I join you?” Otto murmured.
Sarah heard the creak of the white rocker as he sat behind her. She wanted to shout at him to go away, to leave her to her thoughts. Instead she said, “Ya.” She’d had enough drama for one day.
Silence, interrupted by the steady squeaking of the rocking chair, fled.
The old German clock in the house chimed twice. She should be in bed sleeping. Moving day would come early and she needed her rest. The boards grew hard under her, and she resettled herself. She lay her hand on her stomach and enjoyed the bobbel’s strong movements. The kinder lurched, restless, too.
“When Theda and I married, her grossmammi disapproved of me.”
Sarah jumped at the sudden sound of his voice. She didn’t know if he expected a response. She had none to give.
“She caused as much trouble as we’d let her.” Otto stopped rocking. “My daed’s advice made all the difference back then and still rings true today. ‘Live your life to please Gott and no one else.’ I still practice this advice and find it profitable today. I shared it with Mose and now you.”
Sarah bowed her head. “Danke.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for, Sarah. We all need advice from time to time. I know Ulla is causing you grief, but she’s just an angry old woman. The rest of the community is happy you’re here. I see the difference in Mose, and so do they. He’s opening up. Ready to go on with life since he found you. Sarah Fischer, you are an answer to prayer.”
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