The Saddle Maker's Son (11 page)

Tobias planted his feet and crossed his arms, his full lips turned down in a frown. “And her mudder?”

“Dead.”

“And the shed?”

Rebekah told the rest of the story quickly, to stem the flow of questions.

“I can't imagine the kind of human beings who sell little girls.” His gaze went to Lupe, his tone soft yet somehow fierce at the same time. “Gott have mercy on their souls.”

“If we could find her daed, we could get her away from here. Away from the border. Her and Diego both.”

Or they could stay here. With Rebekah and her family. No one would look for them here.

Tobias tugged at his suspenders, his eyes squinted against the sun, making it hard to read his thoughts. “We have to do something, you're right, but how would we even go about finding a man like that in a big state like Texas, especially a man who doesn't want to be found?”

“We could use the computer at the library.”

“Do you know how? Or would we have to ask the librarian for help?”

Which would draw attention. “Mordecai does.” Rebekah glanced back at Lupe. She had picked another dandelion, seemingly mesmerized by the way the seeds floated in the air. “Or they could stay with us. If she wore clothes more like ours and covered her hair with a prayer kapp, she would fit in more. Diego already does.”

“You mean your family or us?” Tobias scooped up his own dandelion and plucked at the seeds, sending them wafting into the air. He glanced at her. “All of us?”

“Same thing, isn't it?” What was he getting at? Or was she reading too much into his tone? “Do you think the immigration people will let them?”

“I don't know about that sort of thing.” He let go of the
dandelion. It disappeared into the grass. “If not, we have to find her daed.”

This time the
we
sounded much firmer. A
we
that included Rebekah. She nodded. Tobias's gaze caught hers. It held a promise. A vow. He would protect these kinner. Together, they would protect them.

She turned and waved. “Let's go, Lupe. They're waiting.”

She shook her head. She ducked her head and crossed her arms over her flat chest.
“No entiendo.”

She did understand and it scared her. “It's okay. I'll be with you.” Rebekah wiggled her fingers. “Take my hand. We'll be fine.”

“She's right.” One arm extended, Tobias moved closer to Lupe. “Take my hand too. Between the two of us, we'll take care of you.”

The little girl rose. She took Tobias's hand first. Rebekah found no disrespect in that. He had won Lupe over. He was an hombre bueno. She glanced up at Tobias. He had eyes only for the young girl. He looked like a father comforting his child. With all his little brothers and sisters and no mother, he had experience with this. More than Rebekah had.

It was a good look for him.

Holding hands with Lupe, with Rebekah on the other side, was almost like holding hands with Rebekah. Heat scurried across Tobias's face. He ducked his head, hoping his straw hat's brim would hide the telltale signs of his embarrassment. Something had passed between them in the last few seconds. A mutual commitment to help two children navigate a tumultuous future. Finding their daed seemed an impossible task, but they had to
try. Kinner needed family, needed their daeds. Keeping them here and safe and protected in the meantime would be the plan.

Rebekah had no idea how his heart and mind battled. He wanted a fraa, he wanted a family, but he never wanted to feel again the way he felt when his mudder died. Or how he'd felt when he realized his love for Serena had been a terrible mistake, How could he risk loss again? How could he risk his heart again?

He sneaked a peek at Rebekah. If she read anything deeper into their conversation, it didn't show. She looked as young and innocent and pretty as the girl she wanted to help. He knew better. She had a determined streak. A backbone of steel. Rebekah would do whatever necessary to help these children. Her secret visit with Leila had proven that. He'd seen it in action at the meeting with Jeremiah. And she'd never looked prettier than today, frowning up at him, the sun a halo around her head only minutes earlier.

Serena had been a pretty girl with her lipstick, dangling earrings, and flowing skirts, but it was her unerring way of getting to the heart of things that kept him coming back for one more conversation. And then another and another. She had a brain and wasn't afraid to use it.

So many Plain women chose to hide behind their aprons and oven mitts. Not Rebekah Lantz. In her, Tobias had found another woman who spoke her mind. The lack of makeup, the simple clothes, the clear skin and big, blue eyes, the sharp, smart words—those were the package that made Rebekah beautiful. She had all the traits he sought in a woman. All he had to do was have faith in himself and in her.

Why was that so hard for him to do? Daed said Gott used these circumstances to hone character. His should be honed to an edge as sharp as his skiving knife by now. He had a sudden
image of God shaving away the rough edges of his character until the smooth, shaped leather appeared. Piles of shavings on the floor around massive feet. His back must be tired by now.

Lupe's soft fingers tightened in his as they approached the school's door.

Tobias stopped and turned to her. “It's okay. They are nice men who want only the best for everyone.”

Her expression troubled, the girl turned to Rebekah, who put an arm around her. “Hombres buenos. Like Tobias
.
”

“Sí?” Lupe's gaze swung back to him. “Gracías.”

Tobias looked over her head at Rebekah. She shrugged. “She's thanking you.”

“I haven't done anything.”

“You've been nice to her. I reckon she's not used to that.”

The thought caused Tobias's heart to wrench. His sisters Nyla and Ida raced past, intent on a game of tag, their faces red with exertion, mouths open, high-pitched laughter floating on the air. They hadn't always been so carefree. But they had Daed and Tobias and Martha to help them get over their grief and understand that Gott's plan would be revealed to them in time.

Lupe had no one and she had to care for her six-year-old brother while pursued by men whose only goal was to make money from the desire of these people to better themselves, to escape suffering and misery for a life with a future.

“We will get you help.” Tobias stopped short of making a promise. He understood how promises made in haste, then broken, served to shatter hearts. “We'll do everything we can.”

Lupe might not understand his words, but her face said she understood his feelings. “Thank you.”

The words came out
tank you
.

He also understood. He cleared his throat and opened the door. Jeremiah, Mordecai, and Will had dragged chairs into a semicircle at the front of the single, small classroom. Mordecai smiled and waved. Will nodded. Jeremiah simply waited.

With reluctance Tobias let go of her hand and gave her a gentle push. “Go on.” He turned to Rebekah. “You too. You're the closest thing we have to a translator.”

“Come on down.” Jeremiah patted an empty chair beside him. “We won't bite.”

Maybe not, but to Lupe they must look like a tribunal of old men. Tobias offered her an encouraging smile. “Buenos, remember?”

She nodded and plopped into the chair. Rebekah squeezed in next to her. Tobias remained standing, not sure they would want or need him for this discussion.

“Have a seat, have a seat.” Mordecai waved him over. “We're all family here.”

Jeremiah leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his ample belly. “You know why we are here?”

Lupe looked at Rebekah as if for permission. Rebekah nodded. “She knows.”

“She understands me?”

“She understands a lot. She doesn't have the words to answer.” Rebekah glanced at Tobias. He nodded encouragement. “I have to tell y'all something first. Something Lupe just told me right now.”

She poured out the story. Jeremiah's face darkened. Will tugged at his beard. Mordecai's woolly eyebrows did push-ups. “We have to help. It's even more important now.”

“We can't put the whole community in danger.” Will shook his head. “We need to turn them over to the authorities. They'll be able to help them.”

“Nee. Nee. Nobody has come after them in the two weeks they've been here.”

“She should've told us sooner.” Jeremiah frowned, deep furrows like a plowed field on his forehead. “We have to think of the other kinner here in the district.”

“Rebekah's right, though. No one has come for them.” Mordecai leaned back in his chair. “I say we continue with our plan.”

“What about finding their father?”

“Maybe Jesse can help with that too.”

This Jesse may have left the community, but he commanded respect, it seemed. Tobias worked to keep his mouth shut. He was the newest member of the community. He wanted to find Lupe's father. He also wanted to protect her. He might not be able to do both.

“I've called three bishops from other communities. None live down here. We're the only Plain district in these parts.” Jeremiah broke off, his long nose wrinkled. “I don't suppose you know what any of that means, Lupe?”

Rebekah patted the girl's hand. “It doesn't matter. She knows we're different. She understands we follow Gott's plan for us. I've explained as best I can.”

He smoothed his beard. “Then tell her we've decided to go talk to a former member of the community who is involved in a church in town. He does charitable work. He may have the wherewithal to look into her father's whereabouts. We'll take this one step at a time.”

“Is that safe?” Will clamped his mouth shut, red creeping up his neck and across his cheeks. “I mean, I have my fraa and the bopli to think about.”

“We don't abandon the innocent because of possible
repercussions.” Mordecai nodded at Lupe. “Tell her we'll help as best we can.”

Rebekah said a few words. Lupe cocked her head, then shook it. Rebekah talked some more. Lupe shrugged and whispered something in the woman's ear. “She wants to know where they'll stay in the meantime.”

“Right here.”

“Don't give her false hope, though.” Will's tone softened. “Those groups will follow the law, which most likely means these children will have to go to the detention center to be processed by the immigration authorities. The likelihood of finding her father is slim to none.”

Rebekah nodded. “You voted to talk to Jesse about getting them help?”

Will nodded. “He'll know what to do.”

Rebekah smiled at him. Tobias wanted to throw himself in the path of that smile. It suffused her face and made her blue eyes huge and bright. Will simply nodded.

“Then it is settled. Mordecai will take you to Beeville tomorrow to talk to Jesse. As deacon it is his place to determine a course of action for these children in need. Tobias and Rebekah, you'll go with him.”

“Me?” Tobias straightened. “You want me to go?”

“Your family has been caring for the children up to this point,” Jeremiah said. “I've spoken with Levi. He's deferred to you.”

“Me?” Rebekah's voice squeaked as she popped up from the chair. “I'm going too?”

“Mordecai feels you best understand the children's situation.” Jeremiah shook his head. “You understand that you're only going
because Mordecai is going and he will keep an eye on you. You're not being rewarded for your behavior.”

“She's been forgiven for that behavior.” Mordecai's tone was mild. “She understands better than anyone what these children have been through. If anyone can make their case, she can.”

Jeremiah inclined his head, but his expression remained dubious.

“I'm not anxious to speak to . . . them . . . but I want to do this to help Lupe and Diego.” Rebekah ducked her head. “I'll be quiet, speaking by Mordecai's leave.”

Mordecai snorted. Jeremiah smiled.

“You'll do your best to behave, I'm sure.” Jeremiah's smile disappeared. “Jesse isn't banned, but he is no longer a member of our community. Nor is your sister. You must treat this situation as such.”

Rebekah nodded. She might do as she was told, but she would never concede to agreeing with it. Most likely she was already plotting how to find the father.

Tobias turned away before one of them read his face. They would surely see his admiration there. And his uncertainty as to what exactly he should do with it.

Wonders never ceased. Rebekah skipped and increased her speed to keep up with Mordecai and Tobias's long strides as they approached Jesse's church. She'd long curbed her curiosity about the place of worship that so enchanted her sister and brother-in-law. The place where they'd married, been baptized, and had little Gracie dedicated. The place for which they'd left family and friends. She might see what they saw in it, or she might be aghast at how they chose to worship.

It was indeed a momentous day, even if it wasn't about her. It was about Lupe and Diego. She kept telling herself that, but the up-and-down of her stomach, like a newborn foal trying to stand on long, unsteady legs, made it hard to think. Tobias glanced back at her, smiled, and slowed. She forced a smile in return and tripped over her own feet.

His huge hand grabbed hers. “Steady.”

“Danki.” Sure her dress would burst into flames, such was the heat that raced through her, Rebekah ducked her head and focused on the building. “I've never been in an Englisch church before.”

Mordecai looked back, his expression inscrutable. “Just a building.”

He had been quiet on the trip to town. Unusual for Mordecai. Rebekah suspected it was because Mudder hadn't been happy about this trip. Even with Mordecai along, she didn't want Rebekah close to Jesse and Leila. She could only speak her piece and then bow to Mordecai's decision. Mordecai didn't like disagreeing with his fraa. And Rebekah didn't like being responsible for any rift between them. Plus it left her with the task of making small talk with Tobias. He'd seemed ill at ease too. Whether because of her or their mission itself.

Tobias held one of the double doors for her. She followed Mordecai inside and down a long hallway. He seemed to know where he was going. How, she had no idea. Who knew what Mordecai did in his spare time? He kept his own counsel.

The third door opened up into a large room. Rebekah drank it in, curiosity fueling her gaze. One wall featured a stained-glass window with a dove fluttering over a flame. The air smelled of candle wax and a flowery air freshener. Chairs with padded seats were arranged in neat lines on threadbare tan carpet. A wooden pulpit sat at the front of the room. This was where Jesse spoke his messages some Sundays.

She would keep this memory close so she could imagine him up there, his dark curls bouncing as he lifted his hands to make an important point. And Leila sitting in the first row with little Gracie on her lap. Now Rebekah would be able to see it in her mind's eye. Until they moved to Dallas. She tried not to think about that. Not right now. Later.

One thing at a time.

Jesse wasn't in the sanctuary. Mordecai reversed course and brushed past her.

“What now?” she called after him. He kept going. “Maybe he's at home.”

Which meant she would have to talk to Leila again. Leila who left her. Leila who was leaving her all over again.

This was about Lupe and Diego. Not Rebekah.
Lord, help me forgive.

“His blue minivan is out front.”

“How do you know what his car looks like?”

Mordecai shrugged. The man knew many things.

Tobias once again held the door for her. It was such a simple gesture, but it made her feel special somehow. Plain men weren't much for ceremony. She picked up her pace and scurried after her stepfather.

Leila had said Jesse also did maintenance work at the church and he worked for Matthew Plank, another who had left the Plain way of life. He did carpentry and restored old houses. “Maybe he only comes here on Sundays.”

“Pastors work at the church during the week, or so I've read.” Mordecai stopped outside the only other door in the hallway. “It's possible he left with one of the members of the church. Or Matthew Plank picked him up. If that's the case we'll stop by his house. Leila will know where he is.”

Would Mordecai paint a picture of that house for his fraa? Would he repeat his conversation with Leila for Mudder? “I could ask Leila. Y'all can stay in the van with Mr. Cramer. It wouldn't take more than a minute or two.”

“You're getting ahead of yourself.” Mordecai rapped on the door. “Besides, it's for me to handle.”

“Come in, come in!”

Jesse's voice.

Mordecai opened the door and strode in, leaving Tobias and Rebekah to follow. Tobias smiled at her and shrugged. He had such a nice smile.

Ach. Behave yourself.

Jesse sat behind an oak desk covered with books and papers stacked so haphazardly it was a wonder they didn't slide onto the threadbare beige carpet under his feet. He looked up, his mouth dropped open, and he stood, knocking two thick tomes to the floor in his haste. “Whoops, sorry!” He squatted and disappeared behind the desk, then reappeared, dark-rimmed glasses askew on his nose.

When did Jesse start wearing glasses? They made him look even more like his daed, Leroy.

“Mordecai! Rebekah!” He whipped around the desk and charged toward them. “I can't believe you're here. This is a surprise. A great surprise.”

“We needed to talk to you.” Mordecai extended a hand. Jesse halted what looked like a headlong rush for a hug and held out his own hand. Mordecai smiled and shook as if he shook hands with former Plain men who were his stepsons-in-law all the time. “It won't take long.”

“Absolutely. I like talking. I talk a lot. Have a seat!” Jesse turned to Tobias. “I'm Jesse Glick. Who are you?”

“Tobias Byler. New to the district.”

“I gathered that part.” Jesse shook Tobias's hand and moved on to Rebekah. “You're all grown up, girl.”

A lump in her throat threatened to explode, and Rebekah forced herself to submit to the hug. If it weren't for Jesse, Leila
would still be back at home. She'd probably be married to Will. Gott's plan? How could it be? She stepped back and wrapped her arms around her middle. “How's Gracie?”

“Real good. Grace got another tooth last night. Leila is even bigger this time than last. We think it'll be a boy.” Jesse glanced at the two men and back at Rebekah. “Maybe while you're in town, you can stop by the house and see for yourself. She would love to see you.”

Mordecai didn't answer. He seemed absorbed in the posters on the walls. They featured Christian rock bands from the looks of them.

Jesse cleared his throat and returned to his side of the desk. He nodded toward mismatched wooden chairs arranged in a line facing the desk. “Grab a seat. What can I do for you? It must be something big if Jeremiah let you come to me.”

“In a way.” Mordecai relaxed in the chair, his hands clasped in front of him. “Rebekah found two Salvadoran children in our shed at the school. We've been taking care of them for a couple of weeks.”

She sank into the last chair after Tobias took the middle one. “We just—”

Mordecai held up a hand. Rebekah closed her mouth. If she wouldn't be allowed to speak, she wasn't sure why she'd been allowed to come.

“Leila told me. Thanks be to God you did.” Jesse swiveled back and forth in his chair. Bits of yellow stuffing from the ripped vinyl seat fell on the floor with each turn. “Not everyone is kind.”

“Our question is, can you help them?” Tobias leaned back in his chair, looking as if he had conversations with ex-Amish
ministers all the time. “They're children, six and twelve. They're in a strange country with no family, no money. They've come a long way to be tossed back over the border.”

The emotion in his voice sent a tremor through Rebekah. Tobias had feelings for these kinner, same as she did. She'd known that, but to see him so determined, so fierce about it, warmed her down to her toes.

“Don't believe everything you read in the papers.” Jesse leaned forward and steepled his fingers, elbows propped on the desk. “The authorities are trying to do right by the children flooding the border, but they're being overwhelmed.”

“So what do we do?”

“Do they have family here?”

Rebekah recounted what Lupe had told her. “I thought maybe we could try to find her father.”

“I can ask around.” Jesse blew out air. He leaned back in his chair. “I can't do anything directly. Families are being aided by one central church organization. The rest of us help by providing clothing, toiletries, things they need. The kinner who come through Border Patrol unescorted by adults have to be processed within forty-eight hours. They're protected by the Office of Refugee Resettlement. They're sent to what they're calling Respite Centers where they get—”

“Warehouses,” Tobias broke in. “Then back over the border.”

“No. They receive food, clothing, medical care, and a place to sleep until they have their immigration hearing.”

“We can give them all that.” Rebekah tried to keep her voice calm. “We are doing that now. I mean, Tobias's family is doing most of it, but we're helping.”

Tobias shot her another smile. He needed to stop doing that.
It made it hard for her to keep track of her thoughts and speak in complete sentences.

Jesse nodded. “I understand the desire to help, believe me I do. It breaks my heart. Let me talk to the folks at Catholic Charities, get their advice. Ideally they would help them get processed, a hearing date scheduled, and then release them to you until the hearing.”

“Is that possible?” Rebekah sat up straighter, hope buoying her for the first time. “We're willing to keep them as long as need be. I mean, we can take turns if it gets to be too much for Tobias's family—”

“It's not too much for us.” Tobias shook his head, the smile turning to a fierce frown. “Diego eats plenty, but Lupe doesn't eat more than a hummingbird. What's two more kinner when you have as many as we do?”

“It's nice that they're so well received.” Jesse glanced from Tobias to Rebekah and back, his forehead wrinkled in a frown, his expression odd. “Don't get your hopes up. What I'm describing is what happens with families that come through. They release them on their own recognizance and let them go to their final destination—whatever that is—and then they have to show up for their hearing when the time comes. There are so many it can take a while.”

“But it's not the same with children?”

“Nee, the authorities don't release children on their own recognizance. It would be cruel and inhumane.”

Tobias snorted. “Like sending them on a journey through Central America on their own, exposing them to evil men who prey on them and all those dangers of the world?”

“It makes you think about just how awful the situation is
in their own countries that they would be sent by their parents on that journey.” Jesse shook his head. “It's not our place to pass judgment on them. I can only imagine what pain and anguish those left behind must suffer and how much they must believe in the great American dream. They want something better for their children and they're willing to sacrifice to get it.”

“You're right.” Tobias's disdain melted. “What do we need to do, then?”

“I'll dig into it, I promise.” Jesse's smile was diffident. “Do you want to come back tomorrow, or shall I come find you?”

“Nee. Call Will at the store. He'll get the message to Jeremiah and me.” Mordecai stood, his expression kind. “Your cousin will be glad to hear from you. He runs the store now, you know.”

Where Jesse had once worked. In his father's store. If the thought brought pain or shame to him, he didn't show it. “I'll call as soon as I have a plan of action.”

“We appreciate your help.” Tobias slapped his hat on his head. “In the meantime, we'll take care of Lupe and Diego. All of us.”

“Gut.” Jesse slipped around the desk. He stopped just short of Rebekah's chair. “It's almost lunchtime. You're welcome to come to the house. Leila always fixes plenty. It's hard for her to cook for just three.” His gaze slid toward Mordecai. “She'd love to see you. All of you.”

“We have to get back.” Mordecai's tone was kind but firm. “Remember, you are always welcome to come home. Your mudder and daed pray for it every day. As do we all.”

“I'm doing the Lord's work.” Jesse's tone was equally firm. “So is Leila.”

That decision had cost so much. Hurt so much. Still, the only recourse was forgiveness. Rebekah stepped in front of Jesse and
held out her arms. He walked into her hug with no hesitation. “Give her my love,” she whispered in his ear. “We miss you.”

He leaned in closer, his breath tickling her ear. “I'll tell her you found someone. She'll be so happy.”

“Nee, I—”

“Take care.” He squeezed her arm and backed away. His gaze went to the two men. “Thank you for coming to me with this. I appreciate that.”

Tobias edged toward the door. “Rebekah said you know about these things.”

“If you minister in this part of the country, you can't help but know about it. That's the sad, sad truth.”

They were silent for a few seconds. Mordecai cleared his throat. “We'll go, then.”

Her checks still burning at Jesse's observation, Rebekah went first. What had made him say such a thing? Did something show on her face? Tobias's face? If he felt anything, he hadn't revealed it to her.

Once again she skipped to keep up. Mordecai's long, swinging stride picked up the pace. He might be afraid she would be affected by Jesse's fervor and his commitment to his mission. That would never happen, but somehow, they couldn't seem to trust her.

She glanced back. Jesse had followed them down the hallway. He gave her a small half wave. “Talk to you soon.”

That seemed unlikely.

Tobias stepped into her line of sight. Had he heard what Jesse said in her ear? Surely not. “Let's go.”

“I'm going.”

“We have to get home.”