“They’re sleeping,” Sam said.
Her right eyebrow rose in challenge. “How do you know that?”
Before Sam could answer, a wailing wafted down from upstairs, soon followed by another.
Sam grabbed two bottles from the fridge and nodded at Peter to follow him.
She stared at the rest of the boys. “Don’t y’all have chores need’n done?”
Slowly the room emptied of happy boys, leaving her and Mr. Long alone.
She sat down on the bench and motioned for him to take his seat. She really didn’t want to give him the bad news staring up at him. She didn’t want to give him bad news at all, but she had no choice. The town would go crazy if she let a man live here. She sighed and met his gaze.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to meet you. I was outside hanging laundry. I appreciate your patience with my eldest. He’s sixteen going on twenty.”
Mr. Long chuckled at her comment. He had a very nice smile and good teeth. Her ma would have liked his smile.
Why was she thinking of her mama so much today? Probably ‘cause she could use some good advice. Oliver wasn’t the only one waking from nightmares these days.
“You’ve got wonderful boys,” Mr. Long said.
“And a lot of them,” she added and laughed.
He chuckled. “That, too.”
She liked his laugh. It was warm and heartfelt. She sighed. If only he were a woman!
“Mr. Long, I’m sorry you had to travel all the way out here, but I can’t hire you.”
Disappointment shone in his dark eyes.
“I’m sorry, but I need a female teacher.”
His frown deepened. “For sixteen boys?”
She could tell by his tone he thought her nuts.
She laughed softly. “No, the boys would much rather have you. But the townspeople would be very upset if I were to let a man live here.”
His jaw tightened. “That would be the same townspeople who kicked your boys out of their school?”
She chewed her bottom lip, wondering where Mr. Long had heard that. “They had no choice. I’m no longer in city limits.”
Mr. Long sighed and studied her, as if trying to figure her out. “Has anyone else applied for the job?”
She chewed her lip some more. “Not yet.”
“What did your boy mean when he said now they wouldn’t take them away?”
She’d say this for Mr. Long. He could find the weakness in her argument faster than lightning. “If I don’t find a teacher by the end of this week, Child Welfare said they might have to take the boys.” Tears gathered in her eyes at the thought of losing her boys. The Child Welfare woman kept insisting it was the best thing for them, and if she really loved them like she claimed, she’d let them go to good Christian homes. Sara wanted to do right by her sons, but deep in her heart, she knew they were better off here. Nobody could love her boys better than her.
Mr. Long gently touched her hand, bringing her attention back to him. “Then before you send me off, don’t you think you should make certain you can find a woman teacher?”
She yanked her hand from the table and cradled it in her lap. She could still feel the place where his fingers touched her. She tried to meet his eyes, but she couldn’t do it, so she stared at her touched hand. “It wouldn’t be right to use you like that,” she whispered.
“You’d rather take the risk of losing your boys?”
“I’m not losing my boys,” she assured him. “If it comes to that, we’ll run away and become gypsies.”
“I have to believe it is better to upset the townspeople by taking on a male teacher than to lose this nice house and turn your boys into dirty, hungry gypsies.”
Sara sighed. He was right. As much as she hated to fight, she should stay and fight so her boys could have a home. She nodded in agreement.
“So I can stay?”
Sara bit her lip and forced herself to make eye contact with him. “You should know I’ve got a bad reputation. People say I’m a loose woman, but that’s not true. However, if you stay here, they’re going to think you and I are…well, that we aren’t behaving properly. No more harm can be done to my reputation, but yours will take a beating.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I care more about those boys staying together than I do about what the townspeople think of me. So should you.”
She could tell he didn’t think much of her, but not because he thought her loose, but because he thought her a bad mother. Before she could respond, her eleven-year-old, Mike, stormed in the room.
“Our Ma loves us!” Mike yelled as he shoved Mr. Long on hid hip. “Don’t you ever talk bad about our Ma!”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Mr. Long assured her son. “I’m just mad at the townspeople for making her life so hard.”
Her son breathed in hard, fighting off his tears. “Well, all right then,” he said and ran from the room.
Mr. Long looked up at her. “I meant that. Don’t worry about what the townspeople think. Just worry about your boys.”
She laughed and rubbed her stomach. “That’s a lot of worrying.”
“Are you…?” He stared at her swollen stomach, unable to finish the question.
“Having another boy? I reckon,” she said. “I haven’t decided what to name him. Right now all my boys got a brother with the same first letter, which makes them letter-mates. The boys like the pairs, but in a few years Joshua will want to go off and be a man and then what will poor Joe do without a letter-mate? So I was thinking maybe I should start again on the same letters, instead of making new ones.” She paused and studied him. “What do you think?”
Mr. Long gave her question serious consideration before answering. “Add a name to the current letters. It will give the younger letters a chance to be a leader during each of their lives.”
She nodded in agreement. She had noticed how much Joe liked being the elder today. She shared the story with Mr. Long.
“I’ll shift them about when we do group studies. That way they’ll all get a chance to lead.”
She was glad Mr. Long had come. He might not be what she wanted, but she suspected he was precisely what she needed. That happened a lot in her life. Some said she was just lucky, but she knew luck had nothing to do with it. She had a guardian angel who made sure they got whatever they needed.
Chapter 3
Ethan received a tour of the house. Sara’s happiness sparkled through her eyes as she pointed out little things like electrical outlets and lights on the ceilings.
The four bedrooms upstairs held her sixteen boys. One room was the nursery, which contained the youngest four—two in a crib and two in small miniature beds that looked like cars.
She pointed to the car beds. “I won those at the opening of a furniture store in Briarville.” She laughed. “The older boys won’t admit it, but I think they were jealous the younger boys got such fancy beds.”
The other rooms all contained double bunk beds. The rooms reminded him of summer camp. He could not imagine living his whole life with so many siblings.
Finally, she led him back to the first floor and opened a door. “This used to be the garage, but then I won a make-over room by a design firm in Little Rock. They did a really nice job. They even put in a private bathroom and a door to the outside. Once they took their pictures and left, I gave the eldest boys the twin beds and Chester drawers, and rescued the stuff the designers had put out with the trash. It’s perfectly good. I hope you like it.”
The sparse furniture was all different styles, but the room was spacious and very clean. He noticed faded squares on the wall as if pictures had gone missing. “Was this your room?”
She hesitated before answering. “It was. But when I put the ad in the paper, I moved into the laundry room.”
Ethan frowned.
She waved away his concern. “I spend most of my time in there anyway.”
He stared at this odd woman. He could not, in a thousand years, imagine his
ex-wife giving up her bedroom so the hired help could be more comfortable during their stay.
“Can I see it?”
Her head tilted to the side. “What?”
“Your room?”
Fear replaced her confusion and her arms crossed over her chest as she stepped a foot back. “Why?”
He could see the tension in her face. She was far from the whore the stories had portrayed her. He smiled sheepishly. “Well, if it were tolerable, I was going to offer to switch with you, but I’m ashamed to admit, I wanted to see it first.”
The fear left her face and she laughed with pure joy. “Oh, Mr. Long, I wouldn’t think of putting you in the laundry room. You’d leave us in a day. I’ll let you settle in here. If you need help bringing your stuff in, I’ve plenty of boys for tote’n and carrying.”
Ethan realized he wouldn’t see her room today, so he let the matter drop. “I don’t have much.” Good thing since the room contained only one small, white painted bureau.
“They’d still love to help you,” she assured him and left.
A few seconds later, Joshua and Colby, the two eldest, appeared at his door. “Need anything brought in?”
Five minutes later, his laptop and boxes were in his room, as well as two happy boys, who didn’t want to leave.
“This is a cool laptop,” Joshua said as he gently stroked the slender casing. “Ma won a computer at Best Buy last year, but we don’t have Internet access out here, so it’s not much use for nothing.”
Ethan frowned. “You don’t have broadband access?” How the hell was he going to communicate with the outside world? He had intended to piggyback off their router. He shook his head. Sara had no viable means of support. Why would she have Internet?
Joshua laughed. “No, and before you ask, we ain’t got cable or satellite either, but we do have a TV, and channel seven and two come in real good.”
Colby, evidently concerned they were about to lose their schoolteacher spoke up. “Yeah, but who needs that stuff. What you will have are the best students you’ve ever taught.”
Ethan patted Colby on his back. “I’ve no doubt of that.”
True enough, given he’d never taught a student in his life. He’d spent a day acquiring fake teaching certificates and credentials, along with the home-schooling curriculum. Now he wondered why he bothered. Sara hadn’t asked to see any of it.
“You boys should get back to your chores and finish up. I’ll want you all in the kitchen in one hour, so we can figure out what each of you know.”
With terror in their eyes, they both hurried from the room.
As he unpacked his clothes and put them into the clean, paper-lined drawers of the old bureau, his thoughts returned to Sara. She looked so young, but she had to be at least thirty. First child born at fourteen, with one more for sixteen years. She was either thirty or thirty-one.
She wore no makeup, so he didn’t know if she was plain or just untouched. When she laughed, he had thought her pretty. But she’d hardly inspire men to wander from their wives. Nor did she sound like she’d welcome it.
Jacobs was right. There was a story here. Sara Smith was not what she appeared. He looked forward to discovering the truth.
He glanced up at the faint squares on the wall. He wondered what she had done with the pictures. He hoped she’d let him have them back. Otherwise, he was going to have a devil of a time learning the names of sixteen boys who looked remarkably alike. All had blond, silky hair, thin faces, high cheekbones, and blue eyes. While Sara was blonde and blue-eyed, he suspected the father was as well. He also played with the possibility that the father was the same for all boys, due to their striking similarity to each other, but only a moderate resemblance to their mother.
What type of guy would show up once a year, impregnate Sara, and then leave her to raise his sons with no help? And why would Sara allow this injustice to continue? It just didn’t make sense.
His mystery woman appeared at the door with a baby in her arms. “Lunch is almost ready. Do you want to join us or eat alone? I’ll understand if you choose to eat alone. Sometimes I’ve a longing for a quiet meal myself.”
He rose and walked toward her. He chucked the blonde blue-eyed cherub’s chin.
“This is Marcus. He’s my youngest.”
For now. He frowned at the thought.
Misinterpreting his response, she laughed. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to teach him. Only those six and older have to be taught, although I’m hoping you’ll let Tom join the classes. He’s five and desperately wants to go to school with the older boys.”
“Not a problem,” Ethan said as he stared into Sara’s eyes. He saw nothing but love for her children in those eyes. How could she not resent having to carry this responsibility alone? His stare seemed to frighten her and she looked away, as she shifted her baby.
“Is everything okay with your room?” she asked.
“Yes, but, I notice some pictures are missing. They wouldn’t have been of your boys, would they?”
She laughed and nodded. “I won a family photo sitting at Wal-Mart. The photographer wasn’t particularly happy we were such a large family and tried to convince us to pose for a single shot, but Joshua wouldn’t have it. The contest had promised portrait shots of each family member, and he insisted that the man give us just that. I’m glad he did, because I wouldn’t have been able to see any faces if we had all been in one picture. And my boys look too much alike to recognize unless I see their height or get a good look.”
Ethan laughed. “To that point, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind putting their names on the bottom of the pictures and putting them back on the wall, at least until I’ve got their names straightened out.”
She scrunched up her face. “Well, I can give you the pictures, but I don’t know how to put their names on them.”
“I’ll show you when you bring the pictures.”
“Fair enough,” she said.
A voice called out. “Ma! Lunch is ready!”
“Remember, if you find eating with us a bit overwhelming, you can bow out. We’ll understand.”
He somehow doubted the boys would.
When he arrived at the table and Joshua stood and offered him the position at the head of the table, Ethan tried to refuse. “That’s your spot.”
“Sit here,” Mike pleaded, and then the entire table erupted with pleas for him to ‘sit by me.’
Sara solved the riot by walking him to the head of the table. “Sit.”
He did as she asked.
Joshua ordered the smaller boys to bunch in so he could fit. The younger boys looked thrilled to have Joshua sitting with them, so none complained about the crush.
Before they ate, each had to hold up their hands to prove them clean. Then they said a prayer thanking God for their meal in unison. The moment “Amen” sounded, a riot broke out as little hands reached and voices called out for whatever was out of reach.
Sara spent most of her time passing food and cleaning accidental spills. Ethan would have felt sorry for her, except she seemed so happy. Once she’d cleaned up the spill, she’d kiss the clumsy child and ask him to try and be more careful.
Ethan could only imagine the shock these boys would have if they went into foster homes. They might be poor, but they had ample healthy food and a solid roof over their head. Most importantly, they had the nicest mother he’d ever seen. What the hell was Child Welfare thinking? The state would pay a fortune to farm out sixteen boys into foster care. Why not just pay for a tutor? It would be a hell of a lot cheaper and a far better solution.
It would also make a good angle for a story: Incompetence and bureaucracy threatening to tear apart a happy and flourishing family.
He noticed Mike knocked over his milk twice. Joshua sighed upon the second time and looked at Ethan. “Mike’s not doing that on purpose. He’s just a bit clumsy.”
***
After lunch, Sara brought Ethan the pictures. He had her call off the name
s while he printed them on yellow sticky notes. Once the sixteen pictures possessed labels, he asked her about Mike. “Have you ever taken him to a doctor?”
She looked surprised by his question. “Mike’s not sick.”
“I know. But there may be a physical reason for his clumsiness.”
She still looked confused. “Well, sure. He’s not doing it on purpose.”
Ethan breathed in as he gathered his patience. “This may be something a doctor can cure.”
“Really?” she said in shock. “That would really be nice. Mike hates being clumsy.” She tilted her head and gnawed her lower lip. “How much would that cost?”
He sighed as he recalled her precarious financial situation. “You don’t have health insurance.”
She shook her head.
“What about free medical care? You must qualify for that.”
She tilted her head in confusion. “I haven’t found anyone that gives away medical care in contests.”
“No, I mean the state should pay for it. All children are supposed to receive free medical care if the parents can’t afford it.”
“Oh that. They said I didn’t qualify.”
“You make too much money?”
“No. I have too many children. They said I’d run them broke.”
Well, here was another storyline he could pursue. He took her hand in his. “Just take Mike and don’t tell them about the other fifteen.”
“I can’t do that. Child Welfare says they’ll take away my boys if I don’t watch over them.”
“I’ll stay with the boys.”
She frowned. “Is that allowed?”
“Yes.”
“Even with the babies?”
By Sara’s worried look, he suspected someone in Child Welfare constantly made her life hell. “Do you have a baby monitor?”
She pointed to the plastic bubble on her belt. “I won it at Bingo.”
He laughed. “You sure do win a lot of things.”
“People don’t like it either. They won’t let me play Bingo anymore. They said I cheat. But how can you cheat in Bingo? They just don’t like me winning too much.”
“How often do you win?”
Luck Be an Angel Page 2