Authors: Vannetta Chapman
There was no time like the present to change that.
S
arah nearly dropped the dish of apple pie when Paul asked her if she'd like to go for a walk.
“It's freezing outside.”
“Big barn. We could take a look at Joshua's horses.”
How had he known that she'd been wishing for a few moments away from so many people? She pushed the plate holding the apple pie to the center of the table.
Mia sat on a stool beside the table, playing with an Amish doll. Paul squatted down in front of her. “Hello, Mia. How are you today?”
“Paul, up!” She practically threw herself into his arms.
Laughing, Paul raised her high into the air.
“I didn't realize she even knew your name.”
“Well, of course she does. I carried her into the house when she was all sleepy on Friday.”
For her answer, Mia patted his face and turned her attention to undressing her doll.
“Perhaps a walk would be
gut
.” Sarah grabbed the shawl she'd placed over her bag. “Would you like to go for a walk, Mia?”
“Why?”
“Because it will be fun.”
“Why?”
“Because barns always are.”
“Why?”
Sarah shrugged and turned to Paul. “
Up
and
why
âthey are her two favorite words.”
“Why?” Mia asked, causing both Paul and Sarah to laugh.
Sarah was worried they would have nothing to say, but Paul brought her up to date on the work he was doing at his place. “The barn has been thoroughly cleaned out, with the help of your
bruders
, and I've begun mending fences around my fields.”
“No progress on the house?”
“
Nein
. It will have to wait, which is okay. I'm comfortable enough in the barn.”
“I suppose you're not the first bachelor to live in a barn.”
“And probably not the last.”
“You do want to move into the house, though. Right? Eventually?”
“I suppose. But it doesn't strike me as a priority at the moment.”
He was just like her brothers. None of them seemed to notice piles of clothes, muddy tracks on the floor, or dirty dishes in the sink. Left to their own devices, each of them would probably choose to live in a barn.
They had reached the back wall, and Paul stopped in front of the last stall. Inside was one of Joshua's buggy mares, and across from them was the other. The mare nudged Paul's hand, looking for a treat, and he produced a cube of sugar.
“Do you always carry sweets in your pockets?”
“Comes in handy more often than you'd think.”
He handed another cube to Mia, and they walked to the other mare so she could feed it to the horse. Mia started to put it into her mouth.
“No, honey. Give it to the horse.”
“Why?” Mia puckered her lips and tried to feed the sugar cube to Paul.
In spite of herself, Sarah burst out laughing. It was such a funny sightâthe small Hispanic girl, large Amish man, and a horse poking her head in the middle of the two. Eventually, Mia relented and fed the mare. Then she insisted on being let down and made a game of running from one side of the aisle to the other, touching the wall each time and saying “horse” when she did.
Paul spied a wooden crate and turned it over so Sarah could sit on it.
“Take a load off. You barely sat at all this morning. You ate in record time, and then you popped up to help with the dishes.”
Had Paul Byler been watching her? The thought embarrassed Sarah, so she changed the subject, but she did sit on the crate. Her feet were actually tired from the long morning of church and serving.
“All right, but we need to keep an eye on little Mia. She's turned disappearing into an art form.”
Paul sat beside her on the ground. “Still hiding?”
“Every chance she gets.”
Paul started laughing. Mia turned to look at him, and the smile that spread across her face once again melted Sarah's heart.
“You're beautiful, you know.” Paul's voice had turned husky. “When you smile like that, when you stop worrying about thingsâ¦you're beautiful inside and out, Sarah Yoder.”
She didn't know what to say. She stammered, she blushed, and she forced herself to look away from Paul's warm brown eyes and playful smile. And that was when she noticed that Mia was once again gone.
They found her ten minutes later. Somehow she'd managed to squeeze between an old slop bucket and a shelf in an empty stall.
“What if she'd gotten in with the horses?”
“That's impossible. She couldn't have opened the latch.”
“I suppose.”
For her part, Mia apparently thought it was great fun and clapped when they found her, throwing herself at Sarah and commanding that she lift her “up!”
“Mia, no more hiding.”
“Why?” She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout and hid her face in Sarah's dress.
“We need to work on her vocabulary.”
“It will come with time,” Paul assured her.
“How do you know so much about kids?”
“Lots of nieces and nephews. I am the youngest of seven.”
“You mentioned that in the courthouse.” Part of Sarah's mind was still sitting on the overturned crate, listening to Paul tell her how beautiful she was. Had he actually said that?
“
Ya
, big family back home. Little children running everywhere. Couldn't sit down without squishing one.”
“They're not bugs.”
“Nope. I suppose not. My
bruders
think it's their job to ensure the growth of the Amish community.”
“Meaning?”
“Kids. Every year there are more.”
They walked slowly back to the front of the barn where lunch had been served. Maybe returning to a larger group caused Sarah to feel bolder because she asked, “Don't you like kids?”
“Sure I do. I like Mateo and Mia well enough. And I like your
bruders
.”
“Just not any of your own.”
Paul scratched at the side of his face as if he was deep in thought and frowned. It reminded her of when she'd seen him in the store, a few days before she'd found the children, before her life had changed. It had irritated her then, that frown. But now it made her laugh.
Paul looked at her in surprise. “What's so funny?”
“You are.”
“Me?”
“That serious look on your face.”
“You asked a serious question.”
“I wasn't asking you to marry me.”
“No?” Now there was a pronounced frown on his face, and Sarah knew he was teasing.
So instead of explaining herself, she gathered Mia up in her arms, found her purse sitting behind the tables, and went in search of Mateo and her younger brothers.
No doubt Andy and Henry would be staying for the singing, but Sarah wanted to be home. She wanted to change out of her church clothes, sit in the rocker as the rain splashed on the roof, and make some sense of the twists and turns her life had taken.
M
arch blew in with gusty winds and warmer temperatures, bringing afternoons balmy enough for the boys to shed their coats.
If Sarah had thought things would get easier once she'd been declared an official Bridge parent, she was sadly mistaken. It was possible she'd been so busy completing her certification that she hadn't had time to see what a mess their home had become.
The next few days, she dedicated herself to setting things to rightsâunfortunately, their home was in a state of constant chaos.
She attempted to once more sweep and mop the floors. With the rain and the mud and five boys plus one little girl, it seemed to be an unending task. After Mia tracked in mud twice, she gave up and turned to the piles of laundry. Which was when the hose from the washing machine to the hot water heater broke and flooded the mudroom. Her cooking continued to worsen, which she was surprised was even possible. She'd never been a good cook to start with, and now she was distracted constantly.
Mia was a blessing for sure and certain, but she was also a three-year-old child with a lot of energy and no playmates. She pulled all of the pans out of the cabinet when Sarah was washing clothes, dumped out her sewing basket when she was sweeping the front porch, and managed to land in the mud when they were walking to the mailbox.
Sarah pulled out the mail and was surprised to see a copy of the
Mayes County Chronicle
with a picture of the courthouse shown on the bottom of the front page. Chloe had visited on Monday and interviewed her, but she didn't realize the article would appear that same week.
Amish Family Joins Bridge Program
The Amish in our area are well known for their good cooking, roadside stands, masterful quilting, and benefit auctions. But now the Plain people of Cody's Creek are also becoming involved in the Bridge Program, which seeks to match a child in need of a home with a family that has met the Department of Human Services requirements (spelled out on the agency's website).
Beverly Rivers, head of the Oklahoma DHS office, encourages anyone interested to contact her. “Bridge parents are what make this program work. It's because families are willing to provide a home, shelter, and, of course, love to a child in need that we are able to help the most vulnerable among us.”
Ms. Rivers admitted this is not her first Amish Bridge family. “The Amish we have worked with are quiet, private people. You probably won't see their faces in the paper or read about their adopting needy kids in a local magazine. What's important is that we find a safe, stable home for children. We welcome people from all faiths and backgrounds.”
Sarah would have liked to stand there and read the rest, but Mia began pulling on her hand and whining.
“All right. Let's clean you upâagain.” They turned toward the house, Mia now happy that they were on the move. Sarah thought of the news article and wondered if it would encourage others to become foster parents.
They slowly made their way back down the lane, Mia covered in mud and Sarah trying to coax her to walk. If she picked up the child, she'd be covered in mud herself. The mere thought of doing more laundry was enough to make her want to curl up and take a nap. The day was cloudy, wet, and a bit dreary.
They'd nearly made it to the porch when a red Chevy pulled into their lane. The driver came right up to where Sarah was waiting with Mia. She couldn't see who was in the passenger seat. The windows were tinted, and the woman ducked her head. She seemed to be rooting around in her purse. Then she reached forward and paid the driver. Who would pay a driver for a ride to come and see Sarah?
She waited, hesitating and curious. She thought she made out a prayer
kapp
and a woman's profile. Sarah's mind went completely blank. She couldn't think of anyone who would come to visit her. Her mother's image briefly crossed her mind, but she pushed it away. This woman was larger, and besides, her mother had given them no indication that she planned on returning to Cody's Creek. In fact, she hadn't written them at all.
The
Englischer
turned off the vehicle, got out, and waved. “Afternoon,” he said as he walked toward the trunk and pulled out a large suitcase.
The woman in the backseat seemed to be gathering up packages. Sarah pulled herself together and hurried to open the door, peering closely through the glass.
A small gasp escaped her lips, and she wondered if she was imagining things. But no, it really was her grandmother from Montanaâher father's mother. Fannie Yoder was solidly built and as energetic as a four-year-old, though she had just turned seventy. Sarah had spent very little time around her over the years. She remembered a woman who was kind but brokered no nonsense. The question wasâwhat was she doing in Cody's Creek?
“Mammi?”
She had visited briefly for
Dat
's funeral. There had been an argument between her mother and grandmother, something Deborah would never talk about. The next morning Sarah had woken to find her grandmother gone.
“Sarah. How are you, child?”
Mammi
enfolded her in a full embrace, and then she held her at arm's length. “You look
gut
. Something of a mess, but healthy.”
“I didn't know you were coming.”
“Didn't know myself until I woke up yesterday morning. The Lord pricked my spirit, surely He did, and I knewâ¦I was certain that He meant me to be here, helping you.”
At that moment, Mia stood up from where she'd been kneeling in the mud, making pies. She held up one in her little hands and offered it to Sarah, who backed away. If the child had been dirty before, she looked as if she'd positively rolled in the mud now. She was completely covered from the top of her dark brown hair to the toes of her small pink tennis shoes.