“You could come back with us—back to Sarah’s. She would let you stay, and we could start over there.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mateo. It’s time for you to grow up. People like your Sarah? They’re not interested in the likes of me.”
She’d been drinking steadily from the bottle, and now he realized that her eyes had taken on an all too familiar glassy look.
He would have argued with her, even at the risk of another slap across his face. There was no time though. Orlynn arrived, excited about their plan. “This is going to work, baby. She’s your size and everything. But…uhhhh…they said no about your kids staying there.”
“That’s okay.” His mamá laughed, handed Orlynn the empty bottle, and accepted the new one he’d apparently had in the trunk or the glove compartment. Mateo hadn’t seen it. If he had, he might have tried to grab it and throw it out the window. “Mateo and Mia are good kids. They’ll wait in the car.”
He didn’t hear the details of their plan because Mia needed to go to the bathroom.
“You take her. Orlynn and I have some things to work out.”
So he’d helped Mia out of the high chair and led her to the bathroom. Peeking into the men’s room, he decided it was too dirty. There was no one in the ladies’ room, so he took her in there and locked the door behind them.
“I want Sarah, Mateo.” Mia rubbed at her eyes, smearing more syrup on her face. “I want Mammi.”
“I know you do.” He pulled off three paper towels and held them under the tap water. When he was washing her hands and face, she started to cry.
“I want to go home.”
“We will. You don’t have to cry, Mia.” He finished cleaning her up and then helped her use the bathroom. Once she was finished, he did his best to straighten her clothes, though his mamá had yanked off the prayer kapp when they’d first pulled up to the restaurant.
“Looks like a lost prairie girl,” she’d muttered.
Mia’s hair was still in a long braid wound around her head—like Mammi combed it every morning. That sight, that memory, somehow calmed Mateo’s heart.
“We’ll get back to Sarah. Don’t worry.”
“When?”
“Soon, Mia. Very soon.”
He unlocked the door and reached for her hand. As they walked toward his mamá and Orlynn, Mateo vowed to himself that he would find a way to get Mia home. And then he did something he’d never done before. He began to pray that God would show him what to do next.
CHAPTER 50
Within the hour they had their first lead. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and something equaled hope. Paul wanted to fall on his knees and thank Gotte for that.
“Someone driving by saw two small Hispanic kids being helped into a late-model white Buick.” Sheriff Bynum was reading from notes he had scribbled on a pad of paper.
Paul was sitting next to Sarah. Mammi had put on a fresh pot of coffee and set out snacks on the table. No one was hungry, though. No one wanted to act as if life was normal, even if their stomach was growling.
“Helped?” Sarah dropped her face into her hands and rubbed at her temples. Sitting up straighter, she waited until Bynum met her gaze. “What do you mean helped?”
“Our witness, a man who was driving through to his brother’s place ten miles from here, he said it looked as if the children went willingly.”
“Did he see anyone else?” Paul asked.
“Couldn’t make out who the driver was, too much glare on the windshield, but there was a small Hispanic woman standing beside the car.”
“Their mother. She came back.” Sarah’s voice sounded so lost, so forlorn, that Paul had to fight the urge to take her in his arms.
“This is gut news, Sarah.” Andy stood and began pacing back and forth. “At least we know who to look for, right?”
“Right. We have a partial plate on the vehicle, and a description of the mother. We know she wasn’t driving—so we’re looking for two adults and two children.”
“Can she do that?” Mammi had returned to her knitting, though she was doing so with furious speed. “Can she just come back in and steal the children?”
“Yes and no. Yes in that Elisa Lopez has not surrendered her rights to Mateo and Mia. No because social services is now involved, and she has to prove to the courts that she can provide them with a safe place to live.”
“So you will look for her?” Sarah’s voice had gained some strength and the color was coming back into her face.
“We’ve already released a full Amber Alert.” Bynum was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Paul immediately recognized Chloe Vasquez, the young news reporter from the temporary placement hearing.
“Sarah.” Chloe rushed across the room and enfolded Sarah in her arms. When they finally parted, Chloe unashamedly wiping at the tears on her cheeks, Sarah introduced her friend to Sheriff Bynum.
“I was there at the children’s initial hearing,” Chloe explained.
“I saw the news article you wrote. The general consensus down at the department was that it might help to find more homes for those little ones still waiting on a family.”
“There was a good response, yes.” Chloe nodded hello to Sarah’s brothers and Paul and Mammi, and then she turned her attention back to Sarah. “We’ll lead with this story on our front page tomorrow. If anyone knows anything, they’ll call.”
“Tomorrow—”
“I know.” Chloe’s hair was a wild chaos of black curls. They bounced when she nodded her head in agreement. “I know. We want this resolved well before then. Don’t worry. We’ve updated our online website as well. Between that and the Amber Alert that was issued, we’re going to find them.”
Andy offered Chloe and Sheriff Bynum a mug of coffee. The three walked off into the kitchen, discussing tip hotlines and police procedures.
Mammi remained focused on her knitting. Henry, Luke, and Isaac were draped over various pieces of furniture—refusing to go to bed but barely staying awake.
Paul stepped closer to Sarah. “Would you like to walk out on the porch?”
“Ya. That would be gut.”
They stepped out into the cool March evening. Rain was coming. He could smell it in the night air. According to Andy, it was predicted to rain steadily for the next three days. They would get Andy’s crops planted, but they wouldn’t do it until the next week. Neither of them was worried. Together, they could and would get the work done in time.
Sarah sank into a rocker and dropped her head into her hands. Paul didn’t realize she was crying until her shoulders began to shake.
“Hey. Don’t do that. Look at me. Sarah, look at me.” He squatted in front of her and gently raised her face, thumbing away the tracks of tears. “Mateo is a smart boy. He’ll find a way to contact us.”
She nodded, gulping and pulling in a deep breath. “It’s only that my emotions feel so raw. It’s so hard…so hard to keep them reined in.”
He pulled a chair in front of hers, sat in it, and reached for her hands.
“I know it is. You care about those two, and they know you care about them.”
“Why would he get in the car with her? Why would he do that?”
Paul propped his elbows on the arms of his rocker, but he didn’t relinquish her hands. Instead, he rubbed them gently, hoping his touch would calm her somehow.
“I can’t answer that,” he admitted. “But let me ask you a question. If your mother were to show up on the side of the road, would you walk past her? Or would you stop and speak to her?”
“Of course I would stop, but—”
“And if she said to you, Sarah, let’s go somewhere and talk. Or maybe, Sarah, come with me, just for a moment. Would you go?”
“Ya, probably I would.”
“Because you love her. Because she’s your mother. Not because you don’t love the people here. Right?”
“I guess.”
“Mateo is only an eight-year-old boy, and he’s
had a lot of upheaval and confusion in his life. I can’t imagine what he was feeling when he saw his mother step out of that car, but one thing I do know.” He stood and pulled her into his arms, never wondering what Mammi would think, though she was sitting facing the window. Mammi would understand. Somehow he was sure of that.
“Mateo and Mia love you. That’s plain to anyone who sees them when you’re around.”
“I care so much for them, Paul. I can’t stand the thought of seeing them hurt or scared.”
“It’s hard to let go of those we love, especially the young ones.”
She was sniffling into his shirt, making a mess of it, and he didn’t care one bit.
“I never expected to have a family, not like this.”
“Oh, you didn’t? No hidden beaus I should know about?”
She laughed and hiccupped at the same time. Then her voice grew somber so that he had to lean his head down close to hers to make out her words.
“When I first saw them, I felt sorry for them. Then after they were in my home, I was sure that it was my duty to help them. But now?” She raised her eyes to his, and Paul knew in that moment that he would never be able to resist loving her. He understood that he already did.
“Now, it feels as if my heart is walking around outside my body. As if I would do anything to be in their place, and have them here—safely at home.”
He smiled, kissed her softly, and said, “You know what you sound like?”
She shook her head, but she didn’t pull away from his embrace.
“You sound like a mamm.”
CHAPTER 51
When they left the café, they drove away from the casino. That should have made Mateo feel better, but it didn’t. His mother was drinking steadily from the new bottle. Even Orlynn noticed. “Take it easy, honey. You won’t do me any good passed out in the car.”
His mamá laughed as if Orlynn had just told the best joke ever. Orlynn glanced in the rearview mirror and winked at Mateo. There was much of his childhood Mateo didn’t remember, and there were a few special moments that stood out as happy times. But the bulk of his memories were of nights just like this. When his mamá had a plan to make a better life for them. Always a man was involved, and always it ended with Mamá, Mia, and Mateo standing on the side of the road watching someone’s taillights as they drove away.
Orlynn turned left and then right into a large downtown area—the signs said Tulsa. Then they wound their way through a maze of lights, streets, and junky-looking stores. Mateo was sure he would never be able to find his way out. Finally, Orlynn pulled up in front of a small house with no yard at all and several cars parked haphazardly.
His mamá nearly fell out of the car when she opened the door. That produced another round of laughter. She shut the door, walked toward the house, and then stopped as if she’d suddenly remembered something. She stumbled back to the car, tapped on the window beside Mia, and pointed her finger at Mateo.
“Stay here and watch your sister. This won’t take long.”
He thought about running then, but the neighborhood they were in was not a good one. Two kids walking down the road would be noticed in a minute, but he wasn’t sure he could count on anyone to help them. A lot of the houses they had passed actually had bars on the windows. Why would someone want bars on their windows?
Mia began to whimper. “I’m cold, Mateo.”
Oh, how he wished he had worn his jacket to school that day. Mammi had told him to, but he’d laughed and said he didn’t need it. If he had it now, he could put it around his sister. But he didn’t have it. He closed his eyes, thought of Mammi lacing her fingers together and saying, Maybe there haven’t been a lot of adults in your life that you could count on, but you can trust me.
He brushed the tears away, grateful for the darkness and glad Mia couldn’t see. She’d crawled into the circle of his arm.
He couldn’t trust his mother, but he could trust Mammi. He could trust all of Sarah’s family, and the bishop and Paul too. They were all people who cared about them. What he had to do was find a way back home.
“Tell me a story, Mateo.”
“A story, huh?” He stared out the car window. The words found their way out of his heart slowly—about planting seeds in the ground, watching the corn grow tall, spying rabbits on an early summer morning.
By the time his mamá came out of the house, looking cleaner and more sober and wearing different clothes, Mia was asleep.
And Mateo? He had figured out exactly what they were going to do.
They drove back the way they had come, past the houses with bars on the windows, through the downtown streets, and onto the freeway. After twenty minutes—Mateo was now watching the clock on the radio—Orlynn exited the freeway. Mateo looked out his window and saw the diner they’d eaten at earlier. They passed it and drove slowly around the tall building next door.
Orlynn circled the casino three times before he settled on a parking space as far away from the bright lights as he could get.
“Won’t be any cameras out here. The last thing we need is to get in trouble for leaving your kids in the car.”
“They’re my kids, and what’s wrong with leaving them in a car? They’re dry and they’re safe. Aren’t you, baby?”
Mateo nodded. Mia snored softly.
His mother opened the car door and stood up. She was definitely more sober now. She managed to stand on bright red high heel shoes. Adjusting the silky black top over her sparkly blue jeans, she paused to check her lipstick in the reflection of the glass. Then she leaned into the car and said, “Back in a flash, kids.”
She slammed the door and walked away, Orlynn’s arm around her shoulders.
CHAPTER 52
Mateo forced himself to count to a hundred once, then again, and finally a third time. He knew his mother. More often than not, she forgot something and came back. He couldn’t risk that she might catch them as they tried to run away.
Mia was curled up against his side. The late hour and the motion of the car had lured her to sleep. He was thankful that she hadn’t seen their mother walk away. Perhaps this would all seem like a dream to her once they were back at Sarah’s—and he didn’t doubt for a minute that they would find a way back.
The bishop had told him that everyone, in every situation, had something to be grateful for. The bishop said that God was always on their side and always looking out for them. Mateo didn’t understand why their mother couldn’t be normal, but he did believe the bishop. After all, Sarah had found them, and she had taken them into her home and loved them.
He was grateful for that even as he huddled in the back of Orlynn’s car with the rain tapping against the windows. He started over at one, counting to a hundred one last time and thinking about all the other things they had to be thankful for.
Sarah was probably looking for them right this minute.
Next week, he and Isaac would design the rows of vegetables and flowers for the spring garden.
Brian had recently asked him to look after a new kid in their school who was one year younger.
Paul was going to have pigs that he and Isaac would help with.
It was his responsibility to help look after the new chickens.
Mia was learning how to cook—to stir things and pat out biscuits and decorate cookies.
Mateo thought of all the wonderful things in their life, and he vowed that they would not give them up now. When he’d finished with his counting, he nudged Mia awake. She squirmed and moaned and finally sat up and rubbed at her eyes.
“I need the bathroom.” She didn’t seem to realize they were in a car.
“Okay. But you have to wake up. We have to walk a little ways.”
The light rain had turned into a steady downpour. Mateo found the prayer kapp that Mia had been wearing, the one that his mother had thrown onto the floorboard. He brushed it off and placed it back on her head. She smiled, and said, “All ready.”
“Yup. We’re all ready.”<
br />
Her good mood didn’t last long.
“Bathroom, Mateo.”
“I know. We’re almost there.”
“Bathroom now.”
“In a minute, Mia.”
In truth, he wasn’t sure exactly where they were going. He didn’t want to head back to the diner. He couldn’t go into the casino. But there were other businesses out toward the road. He led her down the edge of the parking lot, walking as fast as she could. The first place they stopped at, a Starbucks, was closed. He peered in the window at the small tables and chairs and displays full of wrapped baked goods. But no one was there. The place was closed up tight.
Mia began hopping from foot to foot. “I need to go.”
“Okay.”
“Now!”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find something.”
Next door was a nail salon and after that an auto parts store. Both were closed.
Mateo could see the lights of a large gas station, but it was farther down the road. The rain continued, and they were both soaked to the skin. Mia seemed to have forgotten about going to the bathroom. She had also started to cry.
They made it out to the main road. No one was following them, but cars were whizzing by, splashing water in their wake. At one point, Mia sat down on the curb and refused to go any farther.
He squatted in front of her.
“We have to keep going, Mia.”
“I’m tired.”
“I know you are. See those lights over there?”
She squinted past him and nodded her head.
“We need to get over there, and then we’re going to call Sarah.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Okay.”
When she stood up, he noticed a puddle under where she’d sat. “It’s okay, Mia. Mammi will clean you up.”
Her mood seemed to improve, and they made quick time to the gas station. They were nearly to the door when Mateo saw a white car drive up. He pulled her into the shadow of a vending machine, but it was only an old man stopping to fill up his car.
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