Sarah's Orphans (18 page)

“Might as well share what you're puzzling over.”

“There is an aspect of this I can't quite get my mind around. You've obviously been forced into a situation where you have to put others first. You've taken on the responsibility for your brothers—both you and Andy have. You've put any dreams or plans of your own on hold.”

“Why.” Now Andy uncrossed his legs and sat up straighter. “You're wondering why she would want to.”

“Yeah. I suppose I am.”

“They're special children,” Sarah added. “I feel a deep sympathy for them.”

Andy threw a smile at Sarah, and leaned forward to meet Tommy's gaze. “
Gotte's wille
. That's what you're struggling with.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sarah feels…correct me if I'm wrong,
schweschder
…Sarah feels that it was
Gotte's wille
for Mateo to run out in front of her buggy, for her to go inside, for Isaac and Luke to notice the stack of boxes. She feels the call of
Gotte
on her life in this matter.”

Sarah nodded, stunned that Andy was able to put into words the certainty that had pierced her heart these last few weeks.

“And why would I support her? Because I wouldn't dare to thwart
Gotte's wille
. If He wants the children in this house, we'll gladly welcome them here. We'll find a way to provide for two more. We'll love both Mateo and Mia for as long as they need us.”

CHAPTER 34

P
aul had owned his own place for exactly two weeks. There was more work to do than he had imagined, and it was more satisfying than anything he'd ever done before. As he repaired the roof on the barn, he pictured the cattle and horses he would own in a few years.

As he mended fences around his fields, he thought of the crops that would grow there by fall.

And as he lay down to sleep in his cramped office, he sometimes allowed himself to imagine a family that would one day live in the house. He would wake later with images of children and animals and crops in his mind. And the woman? Well, he tried to deny to himself that the woman looked anything like Sarah Yoder, but that was foolishness.

Somehow as he'd been going about his own business, she had invaded his dreams, his thoughts, and his heart. How had it happened? Because he'd seen her in the laundry room with her hair popping out of her
kapp
, her apron askew, and the hem of her dress wet? Or maybe because of her close proximity and the fact that he sometimes caught a glimpse of her as he was walking the fence line? It could be explained by the fact that Andy and Henry sometimes mentioned her and how the foster parent application was proceeding. Perhaps he was lonely and simply needed to invite one of the ladies from church to dinner. Possibly it was time that he settle down.

But he couldn't imagine doing that. Who would live in this wreck of a place? Maybe in a year or two. Maybe after he'd been in the community longer. Maybe not. He was a confirmed bachelor, and the thought of a woman walking into his life and
setting things right
didn't sound too inviting.

Regardless the reason and how he tried to explain it away, his thoughts turned to Sarah time and again. He'd even taken to thinking up crazy ways to help her family—ways where they could be contributing and wouldn't see it as charity.

He could buy a cow, and ask them to care for it, splitting the milk between them. This seemed like a big expense and something that he wasn't quite able to do until he'd harvested his first crop.

He thought about the herd of goats their father had lost in a wager. Wasn't it Andy who had told him that? But a herd of goats was as far outside his financial means as a cow.

His mind brushed back over something Andy had mentioned, about losing most of their chickens. “Only two left now, so we'll be hoping they lay an abundance of eggs.” He'd laughed and changed the subject, but Paul had thought at the time that he could afford a few chickens, even though he had no time to take care of them. The idea had merit. It was something that would benefit them both.

On a slightly wet and cold Friday morning, Paul decided to make his way over the rickety fence that separated their places. This time he walked up to the front door, not wanting to catch Sarah unaware doing laundry. Not that he'd ever known a woman to do laundry on a Friday.

He wasn't surprised that the tractor was gone. Andy had mentioned that he and Henry were heading to a neighbor's to work on a tractor and muck out stalls. They had an arrangement to help the
Englischers
, a Mr. and Mrs. Tripp, with whatever the older couple needed in exchange for seed they could plant for the spring crops. Perhaps in the back of Paul's mind, he'd known that he would find Sarah alone. What he hadn't known was that she'd be in a state of complete panic.

Sarah jerked open the door, saw it was him, and fled back into the living room.

He followed her inside but stayed near the entry. Obviously he'd picked a bad time—again.

The house was a complete wreck. Dirty laundry, board games, and old copies of the
Budget
littered the coffee table, floor, and both chairs. Sarah plopped onto the couch and immediately jumped back up, pacing the area between the couch and the large potbellied stove.

“This is a disaster. A real disaster. I should walk to the phone booth, but then I'll be soaked and the judge will decide I'm unfit to be a mother.”

“Sarah, what's wrong?”

She was crossing and uncrossing her arms and muttering to herself. When she looked up, he saw the depth of misery in her eyes.

“I'm going to miss it.”

She rushed over to the window and peered out, turned, and paced back toward the stove. “After all we've done, and it comes down to a broken radiator…”

He crossed the room in three long strides. “Sit down. Tell me what's happened. What's wrong?”

Though the house was a disaster zone, Sarah was impeccably dressed, not a strand of hair out of place, and wearing a fresh apron and
kapp
.

“What's wrong? Everything's wrong. I'm going to miss the hearing, and then they're going to send Mateo and Mia to some foster home in Tulsa. That's what's wrong. If Andy doesn't get here soon—”

“Andy and Henry are over at the Tripp place. Remember?”

Her hands flew to her mouth. “It's their Friday at the Tripps.”

“So they told me.”

“Oh. Oh, no.” She sank back onto the couch. “I'd forgotten. How could I have forgotten? He mentioned it just this morning, but I wasn't paying attention. Isaac had lost one of his shoes, and Luke was angry about having to go to school at all. I knew Andy and Henry had left, sure. It didn't matter. I had a ride. But now—”

“This is about Mateo and Mia?”

The words came out in a rush, mimicking the rain now tapping against the roof. “We got the call last night…well, someone delivered a message to the bishop, and he sent one of his sons by here to tell us. The judge is going to hear our case at…at eleven. And I wasn't supposed to ride with the bishop. Something about not unduly influencing the children.”

“All right. It's only nine. There's still plenty of time.”

“
Nein
. There's not. Amelia Stark was supposed to give me a ride. She drives—”

“The white van. I know.”

Paul sat beside her on the couch. It seemed as natural as the sun rising in the morning for him to reach for her hands, for him to find a way to calm her nerves. Her fingers were freezing. Had she been pacing on the front porch? He covered them with his own and rubbed some warmth into them.

“I learned Amelia couldn't take me after Andy and Henry had gone. They offered to go with me to Tulsa, but I know how much Andy is counting on the seed he will receive from the Tripp family.”

“Tell me about Amelia.”

“She sent someone by with a note. Her radiator is broken, and she can't come. I was waiting for Andy to return home.” She glanced up at him, seemed to finally realize that he was there, in her house, holding both of her hands in his. She hopped off the couch and stood in front of the stove. “I thought Andy could take me to town or go to the phone booth.”

Glancing around the room, she spied her shawl, grabbed it, and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“There's a list of drivers inside the phone booth.”

“I've seen it.”

“So I need to go and call someone. I need to find a ride to Tulsa.”

“You don't want to go out in the rain. I'll go. I'll call them for you.”

She seemed to hesitate but then nodded in agreement.
“Danki.”

“It's not a problem. Promise me you'll stay here and wait. Don't try walking to town or harnessing Dusty.”

She gave him her word, and he hurried from the house. Twenty minutes later he was back, soaked through and through, and Bob Johnson was on his way. “Said he'd be here in ten minutes. Said it would be no problem to get you there in time, not at this hour. Barely any traffic at all.”

“Go with me.”

“What?” Paul had found a towel in a pile of laundry. It looked clean enough to him, so he was using it to dry himself off.

“Please?” Sarah stepped closer, near enough that he could smell the soap she'd used that morning and something else—probably a type of lotion, something with a hint of springtime flowers. “It's only that I'm so nervous and there will be no one…no one to sit on my side. They have Mateo and Mia on one side, with the bishop and his wife, and I'll be on the other side—”

“I'm soaked.”

She seemed to notice his wet clothes for the first time. “Andy's clothes will fit you. Please, Paul. If you could, I would be…that is to say, I am forever grateful.”

He nodded once and headed up the stairs to Andy's room. It wasn't too hard to find. They were approximately the same size, though Andy's trousers were a good inch too short for him. Not that he expected anyone would be looking at his pants.

He changed quickly, hurried down the stairs, and arrived in the living room at the same time that a knock was heard at the door. Five minutes later, they were speeding down the road, headed west toward Tulsa.

CHAPTER 35

S
arah felt relieved, terrified, and embarrassed all at the same time. What had come over her? She'd practically begged Paul to come along. For all of her independence and determination, she'd melted at the thought of standing alone before the judge.

Which was ridiculous. Levi and Mary Beth were on her side. Tommy was on the children's side. The Lord was on her side. She would not be alone in the courtroom.

She glanced at Paul, who was sitting beside the driver. They'd had a conversation about the Oklahoma City Thunder basketball team for the last twenty miles. How could there be that much to say about basketball?

Finally, they pulled up to the courthouse. The rain had stopped once they had reached the outskirts of the city, but the sky was still gray, and the forecast promised heavy storms with a drop in temperatures before morning. She'd heard that much on the driver's radio.

Paul helped her out of the van. “Everything's going to be fine,” he assured her.

She nodded once and reached for the money in her purse.

“I already paid him.” Paul steered her toward the courthouse steps. “Fortunately, he has some errands to run here in town. He said he'd be back here in two hours.”

Paul held open the door of the courthouse and motioned for her to go before him. Once inside, she stopped, frozen.

“I don't know why I'm in such a dither. This is what I've wanted, what I've prayed for and now…well, now I'm a basket of nerves.”

“Anyone would be.”

“Why?”

“Because this is a big deal.”

He glanced up at the clock, which she saw read ten thirty. They had made it. By some miracle they had made it and with time to spare. He pulled her over into an alcove.

“Sarah, don't be so hard on yourself. This is a very big thing you're doing, a
wunderbaar
thing. But it's just like having a baby—”

“What would you know of that?”

“Lots of nieces and nephews, and every time—absolutely every time—the family is full of nervous energy. It's the adrenaline in your system, and it's completely normal.”

She took a deep breath, forced her heart rate to calm, and pushed the thousand and one things that could go wrong from her mind.

“
Ya
. I suppose you're right.”

“First time you've said that.”

Sarah closed her eyes. When she opened them, she looked at Paul directly. “I haven't been a very
gut
neighbor. I'm sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” Paul rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Though you did insult my house.”