Sarah's Orphans

by Vannetta Chapman

  “If it’s that bad, whoever is looking won’t be buying.” Andy returned to mending the coop. “There are plenty of other places that wouldn’t require repairing the house.”

  Sarah finally succeeded in coaxing the hen out of the tree. She gently set it down in the coop, warned Isaac to leave his critters outside, and hurried into the house to work on their Sunday clothes. Andy was probably right. It was unlikely anyone would want the Fisher place with its rickety house and rock-strewn fields.

  But she rather liked the idea of having a new neighbor. Maybe it would be a young family, including a woman her age she could be friends with. Not that she didn’t love her brothers, but sometimes she could use a little female companionship.

  Her mind slipped back to her mission trip, sharing a room with Becca Troyer, now Becca Kline since she’d married Joshua. Sarah still visited with her after Sunday services, but their place was on the opposite end of the district. She couldn’t run next door and borrow a cup of sugar.

  As she sewed, she hummed, and she prayed for whoever their new neighbor might be, that they could be a blessing to each other.

  CHAPTER 12

  Paul put out a hand to stop Rebecca. “Don’t step there. Wood looks rotted. Best to walk around.”

  She skirted the sagging portion of the porch, which was no easy feat because the entire thing looked about to collapse.

  “The real estate agent said the place was unlocked,” Joseph offered.

  “No need to lock it. There’s nothing here for anyone to steal.” Rebecca followed Paul through the front door.

  Paul noted the small size of the rooms, the major repairs that would have to be done if he bought the place, and understood that he would be living in the barn for the first few months.

  Water pooled on the floor where snow had drifted through the roof and landed in piles. The cabinetry work looked good, but apparently mice had the run of the place. The windows were intact—that was a plus. At least he wouldn’t need to put out money for new glass.

  “I thought it might be bad, but I had no idea…” Rebecca turned in a circle. She reached out and touched her brother-in-law’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Paul. It wasn’t well maintained when Leon lived here, but it’s in much worse condition than I imagined. I guess a year with no one living here didn’t help.”

  Paul walked to the back door, which had slipped off one hinge and was hanging at an angle. He stared out at the fields. They were nearly as decrepit as the house. The snow had melted, revealing rocks throughout the field. The fences would need mending too. He saw all those things with his eyes, but his heart was seeing something else entirely.

  He smiled at Joseph and Rebecca. “Let’s go check out the barn.”

  The walk across the yard showed that the parking area would have to be graded. There were holes in some areas, made by burrowing animals, and piles of dirt in others.

  But the building in front of them was in surprisingly good shape. They stepped out of the sunlight and into the barn.

  “This is where we always had church service,” Rebecca said.

  “Looks like he lived in here.” Joseph was standing in the doorway of an office. Most farmers had a room in the barn where they could take care of paperwork, make out their supply orders, and catalog the crops and the seed—what was planted versus what the land was able to yield.

  Paul moved past him into the room. It was larger than he expected. More importantly, there was a potbellied stove, a cot, and a bathroom.

  “I could live in here.”

  “But, Paul…” Rebecca allowed her hand to trail along the windowsill, thick with dust. “Where would you bathe? Where would you cook your food? I couldn’t bear the thought of you living here in this little room.”

  Paul grinned.

  Joseph grunted.

  And Rebecca stared at them in amazement. “Tell me what I’m missing here.”

  “It’s like a man cave, dear. You’ve heard of those?”

  “I’ve seen them on the covers of magazines. A foolish way to spend money if you ask me.”

  “Ya, I agree, except it might make sense in Paul’s case. This could be his Amish man cave.”

  “It wouldn’t be forever,” Paul rushed to assure her. “Just until I have time to care for the fields, bring in what animals I need, mend the fences, and get this place up and running again. Hopefully within six months—”

  “More like a year,” Joseph murmured.

  “Within a year I could begin remodeling the house.”

  “You might want to just start over.” Rebecca stood there with her hands on her hips, a frown creasing lines across her forehead.

  Paul loved her for that look. He’d been a young lad when his oldest brother married and moved to Oklahoma. Because there was a good twenty years between them, he didn’t know Joseph very well, and Rebecca had been a distant memory. But the woman in front of him was kind and hardworking, and she was plainly concerned about his welfare.

  “We have a few things in our storage area,” she admitted. “An old couch—”

  “And that small icebox we used when we first moved into the apartment.”

  “Twenty years ago.”

  “Still works if you put ice in it.” Joseph pulled out the sheet of paper he’d been figuring on the night before.

  “This number?” He pointed to the asking price. “We all know it’s too high. With what you save, you could hire someone to help you with the house.”

  “If I offer him twenty percent less, I wouldn’t need the money you were going to pay me.” He held up his hand to ward off their arguments. “You’ve provided me a place to stay and fed me for the last few months. I appreciate that.”

  “But you worked for us.”

  “Maybe you could give me some of that stored furniture for free. As far as the money, I’d rather you…” he crossed the room and pointed at another line on the sheet of paper. “Give that amount back to the benevolence fund. Someone may need it.”

  He left them then to wander the length and width of the barn. It was a good, solid structure, and it would serve him and any animals he would get well.

  They were walking back to Joseph’s buggy when he saw the horse in the adjacent property. Something about the tired gelding looked familiar.

  “Who’s the neighbor?”

  “Yoder family.”

  “Yoder?” There were several Yoder families in their church district. He was trying to place the horse. He’d seen it recently.

  “I believe you’ve met Andy Yoder. He’s running the place since his dat died.” Joseph climbed up into the buggy, a grin on his face. Plainly the day spent away from the store had raised his spirits.

  Rebecca held up the hem of her dress to avoid the mud as Paul helped her into the buggy. She patted his hand, fighting a smile. And now he was convinced there was a joke he wasn’t getting. But his attention was split between the house that might fall down, the barn that held his future, and the fields shining in the February sun.

  Old gelding.

  Andy.

  Father died.

  Rebecca laughed when understanding dawned on his face. “Yes, that Yoder family. You helped young Sarah just last week when she came in and restocked her pantry.”

  It would seem as if he was about to buy a piece of property next door to a farm full of orphans.

  CHAPTER 13

  Mateo had no choice but to break into the dry goods store. He’d watched the two men and woman leave earlier that morning. A teenager was minding the store. Mateo spent the rest of the day planning how he would do it. That evening, he bundled Mia in her ragged pink coat and carried her over to the barn. From there he had a better view of the dry goods store. He waited until all of the lights went out, though this seemed to take longer than the nights before.

  Maybe because he really needed in that store. Mia’s cough was worse, and he was now sure she had a fever.

  One final light remained on over the store for hours after the othe
r lights went out. But Mateo was patient. He knew how to wait. After all, he’d been waiting in the abandoned trailer behind the rickety old barn for more than a week now.

  Waiting wasn’t the issue. The real issue was his conscience. He knew that stealing was wrong, but he also knew that Mia needed some medicine for the fever. She hadn’t even eaten the cupcakes he’d found in the Dumpster. Still wrapped in plastic, Mateo couldn’t imagine why someone would toss them. Why did people throw away good food?

  He’d wondered that question a hundred times in his life. It made no sense to him.

  The light winked out.

  He checked on Mia one last time, and then he slipped from the building, little more than a shadow creeping through a cold February night.

  CHAPTER 14

  Paul turned out the light, but he didn’t go to sleep. His mind was abuzz with details. They’d called the real estate agent from the shop’s phone as soon as they’d arrived back home. Paul had made an offer, twenty percent less than the asking price.

  The agent had whistled. “I’m not sure I can convince the family to agree to that.”

  “I thought the owner was a widowed man living alone.”

  “He was, but the property was willed to some distant relatives in Pennsylvania. You know what land is like there. I’m not sure they understand the difference between their land value and ours.”

  “Make them understand. This is a gut offer and you know it.”

  The agent’s answer was a sigh.

  “The longer they wait, the worse the place will look. I hear that your spring weather can be unpredictable. One good storm, and the house will fall over.”

  “I’ll call you back on Monday.”

  Paul thought the family would take the offer. Obviously, they weren’t interested in moving to Oklahoma or they would already be here. The price he’d offered was fair. Also, it was what he had. If his staying in Oklahoma was Gotte’s wille…

  He should have been able to go to sleep on that thought, but instead he tossed and turned. Thinking of the barn, making a mental list of what repairs to tackle first, remembering Sarah Yoder struggling under a large sack of flour.

  But just because he lived next to the family didn’t mean he had to adopt them. He would help when needed, of course. The Amish helped one another. However, his days would be full trying to carve a living out of the ramshackle place. He would need to focus on the task at hand and not allow himself to become distracted by a pretty girl raising four brothers. Or was she only raising three? Seemed he remembered that Andy was nearly as old as Sarah.

  And the mother had recently left. His thoughts slid back to the bus station, the agent handing Mrs. Yoder a ticket for Sarasota, the furtive look she’d given him before turning away.

  Paul must have drifted into a restless sleep. He was traveling on a bus, though when he looked down at the ticket in his hands, he couldn’t see his destination. What if he was on the wrong bus? Then the driver swerved. Paul grabbed the seat back in front of him, glanced up, and saw a large suitcase about to fall out of one of the overhead bins. As he reached for it, something clattered across the bus aisle.

  The remnants of his dream faded as he sat up abruptly. The noise he’d heard had been real.

  Was someone downstairs in the store?

  Were they being robbed?

  He crept out of his bed and nearly collided with Rebecca in the hall.

  “You heard it too?” she whispered.

  He nodded.

  “Joseph’s still asleep. Should I—”

  He shook his head and put a finger to his lips, which he hoped she could see in the darkness, and started down the stairs. She pulled him back and handed him a flashlight. The apartment stairs led to the back of the store—what they laughingly referred to as the employee work area. Actually, it was a large room where they kept extra supplies, a dolly for unloading things, and a worktable with two chairs. There was also a bathroom off to the side.

  He distinctly heard running water in the bathroom.

  Their burglar was using the facilities?

  He thought of turning on the flashlight but decided to wait. Better to surprise the culprit. Paul crept across the room toward the bathroom’s door and slammed his toe into the leg of a chair that had been pulled out into the middle of the room.

  A groan escaped his lips as he clutched his foot and hopped up and down. He fumbled with the flashlight, nearly dropped it, and finally managed to turn it on.

  But all he saw was the workroom as they had left it, the chair he’d knocked over, and the bathroom door ajar. And then, through the stillness of the night, he heard the back door latch and the sound of feet running across the parking lot. Behind him someone was hurrying down the stairs.

  “Are you okay? What happened?” Rebecca turned on the battery lantern they kept on the worktable. “Did he knock you over?”

  “I tripped on the chair.” Paul put his hands on her shoulders. “Stay here, Rebecca. I’ll check around outside.”

  “Are you sure you should?”

  He didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he hurried upstairs to his room, pulled on his work boots, practically ran down the stairs, and slipped out into the night.

  Though he stomped around out there for a good twenty minutes, he found nothing for his effort. By the time he returned to the upstairs apartment, Joseph was up and Rebecca was heating water for tea.

  “Find anything?” Joseph asked.

  “Not much.” Paul blew into his hands, trying to warm them. The day had been pleasant, but the temperatures had again dropped as soon as the sun had set.

  Rebecca placed a hot mug of herbal tea in front of him, and Paul told them what he’d heard.

  “You’re sure it was water running?”

  “Ya. No doubt about it. And I would have caught the person if I hadn’t tripped over the chair.”

  “Why was it in the middle of the room?”

  “To slow me down, I imagine. Maybe our thief has some experience.”

  Rebecca pushed back from the table and picked up the flashlight. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Should I go with her?” Paul asked.

  “Nein. Whoever was down there is gone, and Rebecca can tell just by looking what is missing. She has an uncanny ability to remember details like where things were left or how much of an item we still have.”

  She returned five minutes later, set the flashlight on the shelf by the door, and made herself a cup of tea. When she sat down, she admitted she hadn’t learned much.

  “Nothing was disturbed or missing, except maybe a bottle of chewable Tylenol.”

  “For a child?” Paul asked.

  “Ya. I walked up and down the aisles. At the end of the day, we pull all of the stock forward to the edge of the shelf. The cold and flu shelf was the only one where I noticed an empty space.”

  “You’re saying someone broke in, and all they took was Children’s Tylenol?” Joseph shook his head in disbelief. “They could have asked, and we’d have given it to them.”

  “That might actually make sense.” Paul glanced out the window, though it was still too dark to see anything. “I told you when I was outside I didn’t see anything, but maybe I did.”

  “Meaning what?” Joseph yawned. He obviously wasn’t concerned about them being killed in their sleep. As he’d explained while Rebecca was downstairs, it was a small town. Everyone knew everyone else, and they’d never been burglarized before.

  “I saw some footprints in the mud left from the snowmelt, but they were small.” He held up both forefingers, positioned about six inches apart. “I thought they must have been from earlier in the day, from some child playing out back.”

  “Unless…” Rebecca fiddled with her mug.

  “Unless our thief was a child.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Mateo huddled outside—cold, waiting, and afraid to move. He’d watched the tall man run outside and look carefully around, shining his flashlight down into the dirt. App
arently, he hadn’t found anything because he’d gone back upstairs. Mateo thought about leaving then, but something told him to stay where he was. Good thing he had. The woman had come downstairs next, stared out into the night for a few moments, and then closed and bolted the door. Would she notice the missing bottle of Tylenol? Would she call the police?

  Mateo knew it was wrong to steal, but he couldn’t think of what else to do. His sister’s forehead was hot to his touch. She slept a lot and didn’t answer when he spoke to her. That was why Mateo was scared. He’d been alone before, though maybe not for this long. But he’d never seen his sister so sick.

  Once the lights again went off upstairs, he hurried from the bushes where he was hiding and ran across the street and into the old barn. A tomcat sat inside the entrance, blinking at him in the night. His sister was exactly where he’d left her, curled up next to an old hay bale. He set the small flashlight in a corner, propping it up so that it would cast a little light. The flashlight was the only thing his mother had left with them. That and a few dollars. He’d spent those in the first two days.

  Somehow, he managed to pick his little sister up, stuff the flashlight in his pocket, and carry her over to the trailer. Once inside, he placed her in their fort of boxes. Then he sat down beside Mia and pulled out the wet washrag he’d taken from the bathroom. Placing it across her head, he spoke to her softly. “Es la hora de despertar, Mia. Despertarse. Tengo la medicina.”

  But she wouldn’t wake up. He laid her back down and concentrated on opening the Tylenol bottle. He had decided to take chewables because they were grape flavored. Mia liked grape juice. Plus chewables were safer. He didn’t trust himself to give her the right amount of the liquid, but he knew to give her two tablets. His mother had done that for him once.

  He took off his jacket, rolled it in a ball, and placed it under her head. Mia finally blinked her eyes, which looked sunken and didn’t seem to focus on him at all. He had to push the pills into her mouth. When he did, she slowly began to chew. Mateo had also filled up their water bottle when he was in the store. He pulled it from his pocket and tried to persuade her to drink a little. But Mia shook her head, curled on her side, and soon was once again asleep.