CHAPTER 16
Sarah was surprised at how difficult it was to get four boys ready for church. Andy was late coming in from the barn. Their chicken coop had withstood the night, and they hadn’t lost any more of the chickens. “But they’re skittish and not laying,” he said. He’d also fed Dusty and harnessed him to the buggy. That had all taken longer than he’d expected. Probably the falling snow had slowed him down. It was light at the moment, but she suspected from the heaviness of the clouds outside the window that they were in for a good foot or more of accumulation.
“You should have taken Henry up on his offer to help.”
Henry was looking rather chipper after sleeping in thirty minutes longer than usual, but dressing had been a problem. Sarah had failed to remove all the pins from the pants she’d sewn for him. He hadn’t found that out until he’d tried to put them on, and then he had insisted she search them thoroughly before he stuck himself again.
Luke had refused to get up at all, claiming he was too tired from his extra chores the day before. He finally tumbled out when she told him that Andy had brought the buggy around. Isaac was out of bed but not ready. Sarah saw him fiddling with a shoe box, which he quickly slid under his bed when she ran upstairs to check on him. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that critters were inside the box, but there wasn’t enough time to pursue that topic. So she let it go and told him to hurry.
They made it into the buggy with no time to spare, she and Andy up front and the three younger boys in the back. Fortunately, the services were held at Brian and Katie Walker’s, which was just two miles from their house.
“Might have been quicker to walk,” Andy mumbled.
“With those three?” Sarah tossed what she hoped was a serious look toward the backseat. “Not a one of them would have been dry by the time we got there. They attempt snowball fights out of the tiniest bit of snow, which ends up being mudball fights.”
“We can hear everything you say.” Henry leaned forward over the front seat. “And I’ll have you know I’m much more careful with my appearance than my brothers, especially now that I know you’re hiding pins in my clothes.”
Sarah didn’t mind the teasing. It proved that her family was healing, that even though they were orphans—the word seemed strange to her—they were managing.
By the time they reached the two-lane road that ran in front of their property, a small line of buggies was heading to the Walkers’ place. They fell into line with the others and soon reached their destination. Andy said he would park the buggy, and Sarah hurried into the barn with her brothers.
The place was bright and cheery from many lanterns. The benches they sat on had been placed in rows facing a heater that was positioned to the side of the large room. Some were afraid of heaters in barns, but Brian had been careful to brick the floor under and around the heater. It was cozy and warm, and the barn was filling quickly with the people from her community.
What Sarah hadn’t expected was for so many people to ask about her mother. She tried to answer noncommittally. She certainly didn’t want to lie, but she also didn’t want to admit that her mother had gone to Florida. Instead, she thanked them for their concern and left it at that.
She thought she noticed Paul Byler glancing her way a few times during the singing. Possibly she was imagining that. Several times he rubbed his right hand up and around his neck. As usual, his expression was quite serious. She wondered if she’d ever seen him smile, but then she hadn’t exactly been staring at him the two months he’d been in town. He’d arrived the weekend before Thanksgiving, immediately after Joseph’s heart attack. She did remember that well enough.
Turning her attention to the preacher, she focused on his words. “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”
She’d just been thinking about orphans. Plainly, she was to look after her brothers, but her mother was now a widow. How could she look after her? Deborah was gone, and even when she had been here, she wouldn’t allow anyone close to her.
Their services were still in German, though Sarah had heard that some Amish communities were now conducting services in Englisch. She liked hearing the old language. The words brought back good memories of her mother and father when she was a child, when things were simpler. Her mind must have wandered at that point, because suddenly they were standing and singing again.
Luke was fidgeting.
Isaac reached into his pocket for something, smiled, and carefully pressed the pocket closed. Surely he hadn’t brought some animal to church. Had he?
The final hymn was sung, and then Sarah was busy helping with the meal while the men moved chairs and created tables by putting planks across sawhorses. The meal was also held in Brian’s barn, which she had thought might be cold. It wasn’t, though. Between the number of people and the stove in the corner that had been going long before they arrived, it was actually pleasant.
She didn’t notice Paul walk up behind her until he said, “Brian’s house is a bit small, but the barn is nice.”
How did a person answer that?
And why was he even talking to her?
“Ya, that’s true,” she mumbled and nearly dropped a dish of potato salad.
“I’ll carry that for you.”
“No need.”
“I’m happy to. Should I put it over there? With the vegetables?”
Well, you wouldn’t put it with the desserts! Sarah thought. But instead of saying that, she thanked him and hurried away.
Mealtime after Sunday service was always hectic for a few moments. Once everyone began eating, everything slowed down. Sarah sat next to Becca and Joshua, though she made sure she could see the boys a few tables over. It was her responsibility to keep an eye on them now.
“I saw Paul speaking with you,” Becca said in a low voice.
“Have you ever met a more sour man?” Sarah realized how that must sound, and she quickly amended it. “What I mean is, he doesn’t seem terribly happy.”
“He’s happier than he was last week, is what I hear.” Joshua’s plate was heaped with food. She didn’t remember him eating that much on the mission trip, but then he’d been worried about his brother at that time. Now Alton lived in Texas and worked full-time for Mennonite Disaster Services.
“He doesn’t look happier,” she said, grateful that no one else was sharing their table.
She didn’t want to seem to be gossiping about Paul Byler. She didn’t want to gossip about anyone. She hadn’t even started this conversation.
“He looked happier when he took that bowl of potato salad from you,” Becca said. She was five months pregnant and had the glow that expectant mothers had after they made it past their time of morning sickness. “He was grinning.”
It was plain her friends were teasing her, but Sarah didn’t know about what.
Joshua leaned across the table and said, “I heard he made an offer on Leon’s old place.”
Sarah had just swallowed a forkful of ham and macaroni casserole, and she promptly started coughing. Becca patted her back and Joshua waited, apparently amused by her reaction.
When she’d stopped coughing and caught her breath, she said, “Paul? Buying the place next to ours? But, it’s…it’s…it’s falling apart!”
“Ya, a gut place for a bachelor to start.” Joshua winked at Becca and resumed devouring the mountain of food in front of him.
“Don’t look so flustered.” Becca took a sip from her glass of water. “You’ll have neighbors again. That will be a gut thing.”
Indeed, but it wasn’t what she’d prayed for. She’d prayed for a friend—a female friend. The conversation turned to Becca’s pregnancy and the progress on the home they were building. Sarah didn’t notice Andy walk up behind her until he leaned down and said, “The bishop would like to speak with us.”
“Is everything all right?” Becca asked.
/> “Ya.” Sarah had meant to tell her friend about their situation at home, but she’d been waiting for the right moment. “I’ll come find you later.”
And then she was hurrying beside her brother across the yard and through the snow. The February sky looked ominous, even as the snow continued to fall thick and wet around them.
They walked up on the porch and into the front sitting room, where the bishop was waiting.
CHAPTER 17
She just left? She…” Bishop Levi’s voice trailed off.
Sarah had never seen him at a loss for words, and he’d certainly never exhibited any degree of anger.
His face turned slightly red. He pushed himself up from the couch by leaning heavily on his cane and limped to the window. He stood there awhile, studying the low-lying winter clouds. Sarah looked at her brother, but he only shrugged and waited.
Finally Levi said, “I know several of the bishops in Sarasota. I’ll make some inquiries.”
“The thing is…” Sarah cleared her throat and tried again. “Maybe she needs this time away. Perhaps it will help her to cope.”
He didn’t answer that immediately. He glanced outside again, as if the clouds worried him. Sighing, he walked back over to the couch and sat down heavily.
“It’s gut that you’re worried about your mamm, and that you’re thinking about what’s best for her. But she has responsibilities as a parent. She can’t just abandon her children.”
“We’re hardly abandoned,” Andy said. “Sarah and I have been taking care of the younger ones for years. Dat wasn’t able, and Mamm was busy taking care of Dat.”
“It’s not as if this is new to us,” Sarah agreed.
Levi stared across the room, his complexion again reddening. Once he had his emotions under control, he confided, “Sometimes I am guilty of the sin of anger. I understand that the men and women in my flock occasionally struggle. But when they put their own needs before others, as your mother has done, it upsets me.”
Sarah and Andy began talking at once, defending their mother, but Levi stopped them. After a moment of silence, a moment where they all could hear the wind in the trees and the muffled sound of snow falling, he spoke again.
“Your reaction is commendable. I know that you love her, as Scripture commands. And maybe you are right…maybe Deborah needs a little time away in order to heal. I will speak to my friends in Sarasota and ask, confidentially, how she’s doing. In the meantime, will you be okay handling the farm, Andy?”
“Mamm wasn’t much help with that side of things anyway. I’ll be fine.”
“And Sarah, will you be all right with the younger boys?”
“Ya. Sure I will.” She could have added that her mother hadn’t been much help in child-rearing matters either, but she had a feeling Levi had guessed as much.
“Then it’s settled.” The bishop thumped his cane against the floor and smiled at them both. “Let’s pray—that you have the strength and wisdom to navigate the road ahead, and that you will remember our heavenly Father has a purpose in all things.”
By the time the three of them made it back to the barn, it was snowing heavily and the lane was nearly obscured.
“Are you still okay driving the buggy home?” Andy asked.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He jerked a thumb toward the weather.
“Andy Yoder. I’ve been driving a buggy since I was—”
“Fifteen. I know. Same as me. I just thought I’d check.”
He went off to stand with three of the other young men who were talking crops and probably girls from the way they were eyeing the group across the room. Instead of joining those young ladies, Sarah found Becca, pulled her over into a corner, and explained their situation at home. After they’d cried, laughed, and prayed together, she felt immeasurably better. She might not have a friend living next door, but she did have a friend—a very good one—in Becca Kline.
An hour later, she rounded up Isaac and Luke.
“Why can’t we stay with Henry and Andy?” Luke asked.
“Because you’re not old enough.”
“I’m out of school in three months.”
“And in three months you can stay for the singings if you like.”
“I’m not that fond of singing, and girls are just plain weird.” Isaac took another peek at his pocket.
Sarah was sure she saw something green in there.
But she had little time to worry about it. They ran toward the buggy, making tracks in the snow and talking about dinner as they pulled out onto the two-lane.
They’d driven to Brian Walker’s house via a dirt road that cut between several properties. Given the heavy snowfall, Sarah turned left instead of right out of Brian’s drive.
“Going through town?” Luke asked. He was sitting beside her in the front seat. He had occasionally driven the buggy in the last year, but only when someone else was with him. He was interested in all things driving related.
“Ya.” Sarah wondered if she’d be able to convince him to wait until he was fifteen to drive alone. Luke could be stubborn at times.
“It’s longer this way.”
“True, but the roads are better.” Cody’s Creek was a relatively small place. It wasn’t as if you could get lost there. And though it meant a longer drive, Sarah actually enjoyed riding in the buggy, which kept them dry and relatively warm.
Their small downtown area was basically closed up on a Sunday afternoon. The sky had turned dark, and the snow was blanketing everything so that it looked rather like a whiteout. The roads were still good, though. Apparently the Cody’s Creek street department had plowed through just before them.
Sarah drove slowly and carefully maneuvered the buggy to a stop in front of the blinking red light. Sure that no car or buggy was going to come barreling through the intersection, she pulled forward cautiously.
She’d just passed Byler’s Dry Goods and was allowing Dusty to settle into a nice trot when a small shape darted into the road in front of them.
Sarah pulled on the reins with all her strength. Dusty neighed and tossed his head, but he came to a stop, causing the buggy to jerk forward suddenly. Isaac fell off the backseat with a thud.
“What’s going on up there?” he asked.
Luke was leaning forward, peering out through the front windshield of the buggy. “Was that…was that a child?”
“Ya. I think it was.” Sarah’s hands were shaking. Instead of giving Dusty the signal to continue, she guided him over to the side of the road and under the limbs of a giant oak tree, which at least provided some shelter for the horse. She set the buggy’s brake.
“What are you two talking about?” Isaac was now leaning over the seat, trying to see what they had.
“He went into the abandoned barn.” Luke wiped at the condensation on the front window.
“But why?” Sarah couldn’t see anything at all now that they were standing still. She felt as if she were inside a snow globe as the last of the daylight waned.
“I don’t know, but it can’t be warm in there.”
“Or dry.”
“Maybe we should check.”
“I think we should.” Sarah grabbed her purse and turned to Isaac. “Stay here and wait for us.”
“I’m not staying here alone.”
“Let him come,” Luke said. “No telling what we’ll find. Could be that we’ll need him.”
Which was how Sarah found herself walking into the abandoned barn with Isaac on one side and Luke on the other. They had barely made it inside the door when she heard the cry of a child.
CHAPTER 18
Mateo didn’t know what to do. They had seen him, he was sure of that, and now Mia was crying.
He swiped at the water running down his face, water from where he had slipped in the snow. He knew it wasn’t tears because he was the big brother. It was his job to help, to take care of Mia. Crying was for babies.
Clutching her hand, he pulled her farthe
r into the back of the barn. And though she resisted, he insisted they go out into the snow and up into the old trailer. They had left footprints, which provided a clear path to where they had gone. But maybe the people who had stopped wouldn’t look so hard. Maybe the snow would cover their tracks quickly. Maybe it would be okay.
His sister continued to cry. Would they be able to hear her?
“Please, Mia. Por favor, silencio.”
She only cried harder. She didn’t feel as hot, but now she was clutching her stomach, which was why he’d gone back to the store. He’d been surprised to find the door still locked from the night before. He knew the store was closed on Sundays, but it had never been locked during the day. Apparently, the owners were being more careful. Mateo didn’t know how to break through a locked door, so he’d hurried back, and that was when the horse had nearly run him over.
He couldn’t make out anything Mia said because of her tears and the snow and the wind. Suddenly, over the sounds of the storm and his sister, Mateo thought he heard voices.
Were they hidden well enough? They were inside the cardboard box. Anyone coming in might not notice them. Except why would a perfectly good box be sitting in the middle of the floor of an abandoned trailer?
Mateo closed his eyes, put his arms around his sister, and tried to think of a way to make them invisible.
CHAPTER 19
It was a kid crying. No doubt about it.” Luke pushed in front of Sarah and pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket. “Wow. This place is a mess.”
“You’re not kidding.” Isaac actually laughed. “But it would make a great place for hide-and-seek.”
“We’re not playing games here.” Sarah looked left and right, but there wasn’t much to see. Some trash that a homeless person must have left. A lot of dust on shelves. Droppings from rats. Snow falling through the roof.
She didn’t remember the barn being used. The person who had bought the property years ago had put the old trailer out back with the intention of repairing the barn later. No doubt they’d envisioned large harvests and a fat bank account. They had eventually moved and abandoned the place when she was a small girl. There had been talk of developers purchasing the lot, removing the barn and trailer, and adding tourist shops, but nothing had ever come of those plans.
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