Sarah's Orphans

by Vannetta Chapman

  “Ya, she is.”

  “And you live next door to her?”

  “I do. Sometimes it feels as if we have one large farm instead of two separate ones. Her bruders and I help one another with crops and animals and such.”

  “As you should—a Plain community is committed to being one body, son. Regardless of what happens romantically between you and…”

  “Sarah.”

  “Between you and Sarah, you need to commit yourself to helping the family.”

  “Of course.”

  “You’ve told me plenty about the family, about their situation, but there’s something you’re not telling me. Why this one? Why is Sarah different from any other girl you’ve met over the years?”

  “She makes me smile.”

  He wanted to tell his dad everything. The first time he’d seen Sarah in the store, how she’d struggled down the steps with a twenty-five-pound sack of flour and a big canister of oats. How she had refused any help. The look of tenderness on her face when she spoke to Mia, her patience with the boys, her strength and determination. He wanted to describe her hands, her eyes, how unself-conscious she was. He wanted to share the way she’d looked earlier, sticking out her bottom lip as she studied the boys’ map for her garden.

  Instead of saying any of that, he repeated, “She makes me smile,” and then he groaned at how he must sound.

  His father laughed, and then he turned serious. “This life we choose is difficult. Ya, it may be Plain, but it certainly isn’t simple. When you choose the one that you want to spend it with, choose carefully.”

  “Of course.”

  “She makes you smile? I’d say that’s a pretty gut place to start because your fraa is more than someone who fixes your meals and births your children. She’s someone who bears your burdens with you.”

  “She’s so small, you wouldn’t think she could bear many burdens.”

  His dad began laughing again. “The size of the girl isn’t nearly as important as the size and strength of her heart.”

  The size and strength of her heart.

  Never assume that you’ll have tomorrow.

  His father’s and Mammi’s advice echoed through Paul’s mind, bounced off the walls of his heart, and stole his sleep for the next twenty-four hours.

  By Friday afternoon, when the boys came over to check on the pigs, he had figured out what he wanted to do. He had already written out the note, folded it, and stuffed it in his pocket.

  He had thought the afternoon’s chores would pass quickly, uneventfully, but he was wrong. The boys set about moving the piglets to the cattle pen as they were prone to do for several hours each afternoon. They had read that allowing the pigs to range about would make them more content and also help to increase their weight.

  Mateo thought Isaac had the gate, and Isaac thought Mateo had it. Fortunately, only two of the piglets escaped before Luke slammed the gate shut.

  “They’re headed toward the cornfield!” Luke called out.

  Mateo and Isaac were over the fence in no time, sprinting after the escaped pigs. Though they had only had them a short time, the animals had put on a good amount of weight already, but Paul knew from experience that pigs were fast and incredibly intuitive.

  Isaac had closed the gap on his escapee. At the last possible second, he made a flying leap toward the pig, who abruptly stopped, squealed, and turned right.

  Isaac closed his arms around empty air and landed on the ground with a thud.

  “It’s getting away!” Luke shouted. He had taken a seat on top of the fence and was calling out directions like a rodeo announcer. “Better head yours off, Mateo!”

  “Where did he go?” Mateo had circled the barn and lost sight of his prey. He came to a halt and looked left and right.

  “He’s headed for the trees.”

  Mateo didn’t bother to answer. He pivoted to his left and took off after the blur of pale pink headed toward a small stand of trees.

  In the meantime, Isaac had caught his piglet near the water pump. He slowly walked back, both of them completely covered in mud.

  “This one’s gaining weight for sure. I can barely carry him.”

  Luke opened the pen, and Isaac dumped his captive in with the others. The piglet squealed once and sped off toward his littermates.

  Isaac attempted to brush mud from his clothes, shrugged, and climbed up on the fence next to his brother.

  “Shouldn’t you two be helping Mateo?” Paul asked.

  “Nah. Mateo’s the fastest kid in our grade.”

  “Yeah, that pig doesn’t have a chance.”

  The piglet had circled back toward the pen.

  “Maybe you can chase him in,” Paul called.

  But the pig had other ideas. He sprinted left, then right, and then left again, almost as if he was aware that Mateo was gaining ground.

  Isaac and Luke had begun cheering Mateo on.

  “You can do it!”

  “You almost had him that time.”

  “Don’t give up.”

  Paul remembered Sarah saying that Mia slept better if she’d had more errands to do. He wished she could see the boys now. They would probably fall asleep with their head on their dinner plate. Mateo made one final lunge at his pig as he started up a hill beside the house. The pig turned around and squealed, and then Mateo was on him, laughing and telling him to calm down.

  Paul went back to work in the barn while the boys did the various chores related to the pigs. They were certainly earning their share of the profits—which it seemed they would have plenty of at the rate the pigs were growing.

  He caught up with the boys an hour later, as they stood by the pump attempting to brush the mud off their clothes.

  “I’m telling you, Sarah’s going to make you take a bath,” Luke said.

  “Not if we can get it out of our hair.” Isaac dumped a cupful of water over Mateo’s head, who shook it off and then returned the favor.

  Now they looked wet and muddy. Paul wasn’t sure it was an improvement, but he shrugged and pulled Luke aside.

  “I was wondering if you could take something to Sarah.”

  “Of course.” Luke’s eyebrows shot up when Paul handed him the folded note. He grinned and said, “I guess this is private.”

  “Now that you mention it, yes, it is.”

  For his answer, Luke grinned even wider and stuck the note in his pocket.

  CHAPTER 61

  I would think you have that memorized by now.” Mammi chuckled and continued slicing ham for their luncheon the next day.

  It was their off Sunday as far as church, but they had been invited to eat at Suzie Troyer’s. Sarah was looking forward to seeing Becca and catching up with news of her pregnancy. Her friend was now only six weeks away from delivering if Sarah had the date right.

  She suspected, by the way Mammi was grinning, that Paul had been invited as well.

  Everyone was in bed except for Mammi, Sarah, and Andy, who was once again out with a friend.

  “I can’t think how to answer him.”

  “Probably a simple yes or no will do.”

  Sarah sat down at the table and smoothed the note out with the palm of her hand. “He wants to take me on a picnic tomorrow after we return home from the Troyers’.”

  “And…”

  “He doesn’t mention the children, so I assume it would be just the two of us.”

  “Most dates do involve only two people.”

  “Oh, I don’t think it’s a date.”

  “No?”

  Sarah felt her cheeks coloring. “Honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t been asked on many dates, so I’m not an expert at it.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Why aren’t the boys interested?”

  “I suppose I was wondering why you aren’t interested in the boys.” Mammi brought over two mugs of herbal tea and placed one in front of Sarah. Sitting down across from her, she pulled off her left shoe and rubbed her foot. “What about w
hen you were younger?”

  “While the other girls were beginning to go to singings and picnics, I was dealing with Dat. He…well, he didn’t make such things easy.”

  “I’m sorry. I wish I had been here then to help you all.”

  Sarah sipped the tea and stared at Paul’s note. “Dat accused me of being pregnant once.”

  Mammi didn’t interrupt. She let the story unwind. Sarah loved that about her grandmother. She was a good listener.

  “I was so offended and a little scared. I wasn’t even interested in boys at the time, and I would have never done anything inappropriate.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t.” Mammi made a tsk-tsk sound.

  “I was shy and somewhat insecure, I suppose. It was when Dat accused me that I first began having eating problems. In my mind, I couldn’t control my family life, but I could control what I did or didn’t eat. And maybe…I can see now that maybe I was trying to punish them a little.”

  “I remember Deborah writing me that you’d gone away for a while.”

  “To a center the bishop found. They helped me a lot. I learned that what I was struggling with had a name—anorexia. My emotions interfered with my being healthy. In my mind, if I could stay small enough, my father would never accuse me of such a thing again. But then, later, it became difficult to eat normally even if I wanted to. At the center, I learned to distance myself from issues here in my home, and the doctors helped me find more constructive ways to cope with my dat’s problems.”

  “You were quite young then.”

  “I was. It seems like forever ago and yet also like yesterday.” Sarah turned her mug left and right. “My dat was only worried about me and my future, though it came out as an accusation. The odd thing is, now that I’m in the role of parent, I understand that urge to worry about every possible thing.”

  “Still, he should never have accused you.”

  “It could be why I didn’t date. I always was quiet and shy in school. I spent most of my time with a couple of other girls. When they began drifting toward boys, I didn’t.”

  “And then you went on a mission trip.”

  “I still think about that trip to Texas. Helping the people who were in the path of Hurricane Orion changed me. It made me realize my problems weren’t the only problems.”

  “Something not everyone understands.”

  “After that I came home, and there were the same old troubles with Mamm and Dat, but I was stronger. You know? I was better able to handle them. But I guess…I guess I just got used to being alone.”

  “You’re not alone now.”

  “No.” Sarah smiled past the ache of her memories. “I’m not.”

  “So how will you answer Paul?”

  “I’d like to say yes. If you wouldn’t mind—”

  “Of course I don’t mind. I can handle things here for a few hours.”

  “It would be gut to have a little time away from anyone who needs their face washed or wants to talk pig nutrition.”

  “The boys are quite excited about the pigs. It’s gut of Paul to think of them, to give them this chance to learn and even earn money.”

  “But don’t you see? That’s part of the problem. My brothers have been through so much. So have Mateo and Mia, for that matter. I don’t want them getting too close to Paul if this doesn’t…well, if it doesn’t work out.”

  “Why wouldn’t it?”

  “I don’t know.” Sarah rubbed at the muscle at the back of her neck. She’d slept wrong and woken with a crick. Every move felt unnatural. She was hoping by morning it would be better. “I don’t know anything about him.”

  “It seems you probably do and don’t realize it.” Mammi replaced her shoe and washed her hands. Sitting back down, she pulled her basket of yarn closer and began to knit and purl. “We know he’s a hard worker. He cares about the children. He’s a fine farmer.”

  “But those things don’t necessarily make a gut husband.” Sarah blushed just saying the word. He’d asked her on a picnic. It was hardly a marriage proposal.

  “True, but I think it tells you something about a person. If they are hardworking and dependable, then they care about others. If they are willing to help, then they are compassionate. The feelings a man has for a woman don’t exist independently of who he is and how he relates to others. Rather, I think romantic feelings are an extension of those things.”

  Sarah thought about that a few minutes as she nursed her mug of tea. Finally, she voiced the worry that had been circling in her mind for weeks. “You said once that you wished my mother had waited longer. That if she had, she might have realized what she was taking on with my father.”

  “They were young. Younger than you are now.”

  “But how do you know? How do you know that you won’t regret beginning a thing?”

  “I suppose the best way is to pray, and to listen to the advice of your elders.”

  Now Sarah smiled. “Which would be you.”

  “Yes, I guess it would.”

  “And you think I should go.”

  “I think you should follow your heart, but if your heart is lightened by being around Paul, if you find yourself looking forward to time with him, then yes—I think you should go tomorrow and enjoy a few hours out in the sunshine.” And then she added mischievously, “With no dirty faces to wash.”

  CHAPTER 62

  Paul was surprised and relieved the next day when Sarah told him yes. Actually, she’d said, “You can pick me up at three.”

  Which gave him his first dilemma. How was he to pick her up? He’d spent so much time gathering his courage and then worrying over her answer that he hadn’t given much thought to the details.

  He had picked out a nice spot beneath an oak tree. It was far enough from the pigpen that they wouldn’t be disturbed by the raucous critters. They could make quite a noise when they felt the need. The first few times he’d heard their high-pitched cries, he’d run over, certain a coyote had jumped into the pen. But no. They’d simply decided to chase each other at top speed, circling the pen, trundling through the mud, squealing and oinking and generally kicking up a fuss.

  So he picked the site for their dinner as far from the pen as reasonably possible, but still close enough to the barn not to necessitate a long hike across muddy fields. Rebecca had given him an old quilt, which he spread out underneath the tree. Then he debated between walking over versus driving the tractor. Sarah worked hard all week. Maybe she would enjoy being off her feet a while. So he’d hooked up the battered Ford pickup bed to the back of the tractor and at fifteen minutes before three he’d driven over to her place.

  He hadn’t expected all of the children to be out on the front porch playing. All except Andy. “He’s at Emma’s,” Henry had explained with a wink.

  Sarah had looked doubtfully at the pickup bed, but she’d climbed in with a smile. Perhaps she’d forgotten he didn’t own a horse and buggy yet.

  They waved at the kids and Mammi. Only Mia had complained that she wanted to go, and Isaac had distracted her by offering to take her to the garden to see what had sprouted. Paul doubted anything had broken through the dirt yet, but he didn’t point that out.

  Instead, he popped the clutch and drove the tractor slowly back toward his place. The motor was too loud for them to talk, so he focused on the lane. When he stopped beside the old oak tree and helped her out, Sarah smiled and said, “Danki,” and something in his heart fluttered.

  She sat on the quilt and ran her fingers over the faded patchwork pattern. “I love old quilts.”

  “This one was Rebecca’s. She said you probably wouldn’t like sitting in the grass.” He hadn’t been particularly keen on sharing his dating plans with anyone, but his sister-in-law had guessed.

  He and Sarah talked about the crops, the kids, and the Klines.

  “You went on a mission trip with Becca and Joshua?”

  “I did, and with his brother, Alton.” She added as an afterthought, “We also had a chape
rone—Becca’s aenti.”

  “What was it like in Texas?”

  “Different, being on the coast, but the people…well, after a while I learned that people are the same everywhere. Hardworking and honest, and sometimes in need of a helping hand.”

  He told her again about his plans for the other fields, what he hoped to plant and when he hoped to plant it.

  Finally Sarah said, “Would you like me to help you bring out the food?”

  “Food?”

  “This is a picnic, ya?”

  “Um…” The day was sunny with a slight breeze. One of those rare days that was absolutely perfect—neither cold nor hot, but a cold sweat broke out along Paul’s neckline.

  “You forgot?” Sarah guessed.

  “I suppose I got distracted thinking about where to have it and how to pick you up and I…well, yeah. I forgot all about food.”

  “I could have brought something.”

  “No, I didn’t want you to do that.” At her look of surprise, he added, “What I mean is that you cook all week long.”

  Paul took off his hat and rubbed his fingers through his hair. “Let me run inside and see what I can rustle up.”

  “I’ll go with you. We’ll do it together. That is, if you don’t mind my coming inside…”

  “Of course I don’t.”

  If his first mistake was forgetting the food, his second mistake was inviting Sarah into the barn. She’d been there before. She’d helped set up his living area and stock his pantry.

  As they walked from the bright light of an April afternoon into the cooler semidarkness of the barn, he showed her the shelves he’d built, how he’d repaired some of the stalls that had fallen into disrepair. He shared his plans to purchase a buggy horse in the fall.

  Sarah nodded politely about these things, but when they walked into his living quarters, the look on her face said it all. First her eyes widened, and then her mouth opened in a small O, and then she pasted on a smile and said, “Well. Let’s see what you have.”

  “Um. Maybe just check the fridge or the…the pantry there to your right.” He hastily collected the dirty socks, two sets of soiled work clothes, and muddy shoes. While her back was turned, he shoved it all under his cot.