Love Inspired June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: The Cowboy's HomecomingThe Amish Widow's SecretSafe in the Fireman's Arms

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “But I thought...”

  Otto began to rock again. “Then you thought wrong.”

  Sarah slipped on her shoes and stood. “I’d best go to bed.”

  “Ya, you best had. The sun will be up in a few hours and moving day is fast approaching.”

  Sarah looked at the moon one last time. A cluster of billowing clouds hid the golden globe. “Good night,” she whispered. She opened the door and stepped into the house.

  “Sleep well.”

  Sarah sighed. “I will.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dressed in an old, soft dress she’d often slept in, with a medium-sized box tucked between her legs, Sarah concentrated on the task at hand. She folded a plain slip of Beatrice’s and tucked it down the side of the bulging container before fighting a roll of sticky tape to finally seal the box.

  Mose walked into the bedroom, his light blond hair darkened and mussed by the shower he’d just taken. A towel draped around his neck and his pajama top was damp from the water dripping from his hair.

  “Can I help you finish packing? It’s late.” Mose rubbed his head dry and threw the towel in the dirty clothes basket, still damp.

  Sarah watched the wet towel flop on dry clothes. Joseph had always hung his towel on the shower pole and let it dry. The idea of wet clothes in her laundry basket annoyed her beyond reason. Perhaps she should say something, but she seemed to be nagging him a lot for little things that didn’t really matter. Linda told her she did the same to Kurt. That they were just having pregnancy mood swings and had nothing to worry about. Sarah hoped her friend was right. She couldn’t remember being so prim and proper with Joseph. She looked Mose’s way. “Danke, but this is the last box. I think we’re ready for the move tomorrow.”

  Mose padded over to Mercy’s cot. “She looks so restful. Like nothing’s wrong.”

  “Ya.”

  “Linda’s coming for both girls early in the morning, but I guess you already know that.” Mose turned toward her, his hand raking through his wet beard.

  The action reminded her of Joseph. Pain stabbed her heart but she pushed the memory away. “Linda said to have them ready at seven. Beatrice likes to sleep in. I have a feeling she’ll be a handful unless she gets an early nap.” Sarah took of sip of water from her glass, poked a vitamin pill into her mouth and swallowed. “Her offer to watch the kinder was a blessing. Try to imagine them underfoot during the move.”

  “A nightmare.” Mose smiled. “I’m sorry for what Ulla said. She must be dealt with. Daed plans to see her tomorrow with several of her favorite deacons in tow. Her harsh attitude has to stop.”

  “She said what she saw as truth, Mose. We did marry fast. She’s old and having a hard time dealing with her daughter’s death. Plus, she’s heard the rumors.”

  “You’re more generous than I am,” Mose said. “That woman doesn’t deserve your kindness.”

  “I seem to take trouble wherever I go.”

  Mose looked over to Sarah, who was still sitting on the edge of the bed. “I was drawn to you from the moment I met you. Do you know that? Your kindness to my kinder convinced me you were the right woman for this family before your problems with your father began. Did I love you?” His eyes grew dark. “Nee, but I was fond of you. Now I treasure you. Things will get better, frau. You’ll see. Sleep well.” He got into bed and snapped off the lamp.

  Sarah placed her hand on her stomach and felt her child kick. Please be right. Let this marriage work. Help Mose to love me.

  * * *

  Gray skies and a light drizzle didn’t slow their moving day, or the flow of boxes, small pieces of furniture and lamps into the house.

  Sarah opened the front door to let in workers loaded down with all manner of things. She handed them bottles of water and pointed out places to place unmarked boxes. Mose made it very clear at breakfast that she was to do no lifting or moving of furniture. None. Rebellious since the day she was born, Sarah shoved over boxes with her foot and kept the path clear. When no one was watching, she added an extra push when the front door fought the new refrigerator for space. She was pregnant, not sick.

  Theda hurried up on the porch, her mitt-covered hands holding a covered bowl that smelled wonderful. “I see they found a job for you, too. I was put on lunch duty.”

  Sarah opened the screen door to let the short woman pass. “Ach. Whatever that is smells wonderful.”

  “Danke, Sarah. Look, it’s really starting to rain now. We could have done without the showers but Gott knows what He’s doing. His way is best.”

  “Ya,” Sarah agreed and sniffed the bowl. “Wunderbaar.”

  “I made Mose’s favorite dish. I hope you like chicken and dumplings.”

  Sarah’s mouth watered. “Ya, very much.”

  His arms full of folded quilts and blankets, Mose stumbled through the opened door and grinned at Sarah, rain dripping off his nose and beard. “We’re almost finished. Just one more load of toys and Beatrice’s wagon.”

  “You all have worked so hard.” Sarah opened the door again, letting Otto in carrying Mercy’s bed slats and headboard. “The cot will have to be wiped down before it can be set up. Mose better do it before tomorrow or you’ll have two kids in bed with you,” he chortled, dabbing at the rain on his face. “Kurt said the kinder are coming home tomorrow morning, early. They slept well, but Beatrice is running Linda ragged.”

  “Ya, we know. She called Mose this morning and complained about Beatrice’s energy level.” Sarah shared Otto’s laugh and then got serious. “Don’t forget, Mercy has her surgery in the morning. Please pray Gott’s will for her life, Otto. Ulla graciously offered to care for Beatrice until the procedure is over.” Sarah couldn’t help but wonder how the conversation had gone between Ulla and Otto the night before, but didn’t dare ask.

  Otto and Mose dropped their burdens and hurried to the kitchen, the aroma of chicken and dumplings drawing them back. Sarah followed, the tower of boxes and furniture scattered around bothering her sense of rhythm and order.

  Theda set the table with deep paper plates and napkins. Sarah helped her add plastic knives and forks, and then sat down next to Mose. A river of thick chicken broth, chunks of white meat and fluffy dumplings swallowed up their plates as Theda ladled out the steaming food.

  “The meal looks wunderbaar, as usual.” Otto dug in.

  Sarah smiled, growing more and more comfortable with the Fischer family. In Lancaster only silence and hurtful looks had accompanied their meals. Thoughts of her father brought nothing but pain. Sarah pushed the memory away and began to eat.

  * * *

  Mose pulled out the plastic trash bag and tied a knot in it. “Danke for lunch, Mamm. I appreciate you taking some of the strain off Sarah.”

  Has she seen the doctor yet?”

  “Nee, but she has an appointment.”

  “You go with her, Mose. She will want you there.”

  “I have...”

  “Ach, you men are all alike. You have no idea what you’d do there. I know men take no interest in such things, but she will need you that day, son. Trust me.”

  Mose stopped throwing away paper napkins. “Ya. I think you could be right. Linda can’t go with her. She has her own doctor’s appointment. I’ll offer to go and see what Sarah says.”

  “You’re a good husband. Just like your daed.” Theda threw an empty box his way. “You best hurry up or you’ll be living in this mess for days.”

  “Do you think Sarah likes the haus? I mean, really likes it?” Mose set the stack of boxes down and pulled out a chair.

  “I’m sure her past keeps her from enjoying a lot of life’s pleasures, but she’ll get over that in time. Be patient with her. Once the baby comes, all will be well between you and her.”

  “I’m praying you’re right.” Mose hugged his mother, wanting this kind of parental love and connection for his kinder with Sarah.

  * * *

  Handed over to the pediatric nurse, Mercy smiled as she wa
s carried away. Mose wanted to call her back. He didn’t completely trust doctors, and allowing one of them to cut into his daughter’s eardrums shook him to the core.

  “I think this is the waiting room.” Sarah took a seat close to a big picture window and patted the comfortable-looking chair next to her.

  Mose shook his head and began walking up and down the narrow path between chairs, too restless to do anything but pray and pace. Gott, keep my daughter in your hands. Bring her through this surgery with healing and restoration.

  Sarah sat completely still, eyes closed, head, hands clenched in a prayerful pose.

  “She’ll be fine. It’s not a complicated surgery. Just tubes inserted. We have nothing to worry about.” Mose didn’t completely believe the words he spoke. But he wanted to reassure Sarah, keep her from stressing.

  Sarah opened her eyes. “You’re not worried at all?” Her eyebrow arched, waiting for his reply.

  Mose hung his head. He hadn’t fooled her. Of course she knew he was worried. “Ya, I’m worried, but I always am when doctors are around.”

  “I hate hospitals. I have no reason to. I just do.” Sarah shrugged her shoulders and picked up a magazine. She read the title splashed across the front, threw the limp book back on the table and murmured, “Hunting books! Who wants to see dead animals in a hospital waiting room?”

  Mose smiled and walked over to the vending machine. He turned Sarah’s way. “Would you like some chocolate?”

  “It’s not good for the baby, but danke.”

  He’d become infatuated with her. He longed to see her when he was at work, took joy in the sound of her voice and the way she moved. Mose grabbed the bag of chocolate peanuts from the dispensing tray and tore open the bag. He wished Sarah would pick a fight with him or debate the merits of growing hay versus barley. Anything to keep his mind off Mercy and what was going on.

  “Beatrice was in a good mood today.” He settled in the chair next to her and reached for the hunting book.

  “Ya, she was. Did Ulla say anything about your dad’s conversation with her?”

  “Nee. She acted quiet, but very polite when I dropped Beatrice off. Something she hasn’t been in a long time.”

  Mose put down the book and slipped the candy bag into his pocket. He tried to find a place for his hands, failed, and then gripped the chair arms in frustration. Moments later he looked at his pocket watch and sighed. Only twenty minutes had passed, but it felt like hours.

  Sarah laughed, then snorted.

  “What’s so funny?” Mose knew what she was laughing at and he didn’t like it one bit.

  “You, you silly goose. Relax. Pray, but don’t work yourself into a nervous fit.” She smoothed her skirt and adjusted her prayer kapp.

  Sarah didn’t look any too calm to Mose, with her lopsided kapp and worry lines as deep as corn rows across her forehead. “Oh, and you’re so calm? Nee, I think you’re just as concerned as I am and poking fun to distract me.”

  Sarah turned toward Mose, the smile gone. “Ya, I was teasing but you need to remember Gott loves our Mercy, and all will be well. We have to believe.”

  Mose smiled, his lips dry. “I’m so glad you’re here with me. You bless me, mein frau.”

  He felt strong emotions for Sarah. His heart raced when he thought of Sarah, saw her or smelled the fragrance of her soap. Could he be falling in love with this kind, thoughtful woman so quickly?

  * * *

  Two hours later Mose lifted Mercy from her car seat and handed the sleeping baby into Sarah’s waiting arms. Small squares of cotton gauze covered Mercy’s ears, but her cheeks weren’t flushed and she’d smiled at them when she’d woken up in recovery earlier. A sense of calm came over Mose. Mercy was home, all was well with the bobbel and they were almost settled into their new home.

  “You hungry?” Mose opened the refrigerator door and poked his head in. The leftover baked chicken looked good to him. Maybe a sandwich and warm potato salad would satisfy his hunger pangs.

  “I am.” Sarah washed her hands, pulled out a loaf of homemade bread and sliced off four perfectly carved servings. “Chicken or roast?”

  “Chicken.” Mose grabbed the plate of chicken and bowl of potato salad out of the refrigerator.

  Working together, they prepared the meal and sat down to eat, both hesitating for prayer. Mose bowed his head and Sarah followed suit as they prayed silently.

  Mose took a giant bite from his sandwich and Sarah watched as thick slices of chicken toppled down his clean shirt, covering the front with creamy smears of mayonnaise. She handed him a napkin and watched as he cleaned up the shirt and placed the chicken back on the bread slices.

  “Do you want me to make you another sandwich?”

  “I’ll eat this one. If you knew some of the things I’ve eaten in my life, you probably wouldn’t have married me.”

  Laughing together released some of the tension built up from the morning.

  “You have plans for this afternoon?” Mose stuck the last of the sandwich in his mouth and popped in a pickle slice for good measure. “The doctor said Mercy would probably sleep the day away, and Beatrice isn’t home for hours.”

  Sarah pondered the idea of free time without Beatrice underfoot. She grinned. “I think I’ll put some order to my sewing room. I’ve been wanting to do that for days.”

  Mose returned her grin, a smear of mayonnaise on his face making him look more like a five-year-old child than a twenty-five-year-old adult. She grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth like she might one of the girls. “I can’t take you anywhere,” she scolded and seemed to enjoy watching him flush. She gathered up the dishes, a smile on her face.

  “I think I’ll call Daed and let them know how the surgery went while you’re busy.”

  “Make sure you call Ulla, too. She’s bound to be concerned and won’t rest easy until she hears Mercy is all right.”

  Mose left the room, reaching for the cell phone in his pocket, grinning from ear to ear as he headed for the bedroom where Mercy lay sleeping.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Boxes littered the small beige room with north-facing windows. Sarah had dreamed of a room such as this all her life. Somewhere to sew until her eyes grew tired and blurry.

  She stood in the middle of a pile of boxes and turned slowly. She pictured a big cutting table in the corner, and a fixture on the wall to hold all her spools of thread. Not that she had that many right now, but she would. Soon.

  She stepped, and stumbled over an oblong box, the weight of it almost knocking her over. She tried to lift it but the box fought back. She struggled to open it and groaned when she found heavy brads clamping the box shut. What can this be?

  She read the label printed on the container and recognized the name of a professional sewing machine manufacturer, the brand so expensive she’d never dreamed of owning one. Do I dare hope? Her hands became claws. She tore at the cardboard box, ripping away bits and pieces of cardboard.

  Frustration sent her scurrying around looking for a screwdriver, box cutter...anything. She finally found a suitable tool in the least likely place. On the floor.

  “Argh.” She grabbed the large screwdriver and forced it under the heavily clamped cardboard flap. Five or six pokes and the flap gave way, sending Sarah flying forward so violently she had to grab the heavy box to steady herself.

  With sore, trembling fingers she tore the last of the box away and reached in, removing the clear plastic zip bag with a medium-sized book inside and some kind of small tool kit. Peering back into the box, a white sewing machine waited for her release. Like giving birth, she pushed and pulled, willing the sewing machine to come out. The idea of using the sharp tool on the box again gave her pause. She might scratch the fine machine, and she loathed the idea. Her heart pounding with excitement, she took a long, deep breath and pulled hard. The heavy sewing machine skidded across the floor and landed inches from the doorway and Mose’s booted feet.

  Sarah glanced past his rain-dampened
boots, wrinkled pants and shirt, to his smiling face. His generosity overwhelmed her. Tugged at her heartstrings. She didn’t deserve such kindness.

  “Need some help?” Mose squatted down in front of Sarah and her precious sewing machine.

  “Looks like I do.”

  * * *

  The next morning, the doctor’s office was empty except for Mose and Sarah. He paced the length of the office, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

  Sarah, determined to look calm, leafed through a modern Englisch magazine. She gazed at the faces of beautiful women and handsome men and wondered what their lives were really like. Were they as happy as their smiles implied? Am I happy? Her life certainly had taken a sudden turn for the better. She felt more content now that Mercy was on the mend and doing so well, and Mose seemed more and more attentive to her. But do I dare love him?

  “Eight o’clock, right?” Mose looked at his pocket watch, a frown wrinkling his face.

  “What? Ya, the appointment is for eight o’clock.” Sarah held back a smile, afraid she’d offend him. Mose was one of the most impatient men she’d ever met, but she wouldn’t rub his nose in it. Let him have his impatience. Gott knew she had enough flaws of her own.

  “You filled out all the papers?” He flopped down next to her and pulled his long legs under the chair as far as they would go. He glanced at the woman sitting behind a short partition.

  “She’ll call us soon.” Sarah smoothed out her collar and straightened her kapp. She caught Mose glancing over her shoulder and smiled to herself when he made a noise deep in his throat, almost like a cat hacking up hair balls.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Mose stood and began to move about the room. The watch came out again. He snapped it shut, mumbling under his breath about punctuality and professionalism.

  “Sarah Fischer?”

  Mose turned on his heel. Sarah stood to her feet. Neither moved.