The Saddle Maker's Son (26 page)

Rebekah's stomach roiled. “I'm really not hungry.”

“I don't think any of us wants to eat right now.” Tobias eased from the couch. “I could use a breath of fresh air while you take care of your business.”

Rebekah wanted that fresh air too. With Tobias. “Can I go outside too?” She directed the question to Mordecai, feeling as if she were nine years old.

His gaze went to Tobias, but he nodded. “Don't go too far. I'm anxious to be away from here and get back to the country.”

Rebekah joined him in that desire. She followed Tobias through the living room. Something made her stop at the screen door to look back. Jesse was engaged in a deep conversation with a woman who held a sleeping baby in her arms. He knelt at her feet, his expression earnest, his voice soft. The woman gestured at her child and then at the ceiling.

“Are you coming?” Tobias paused on the other side of the screen, his features obscured by the netting.

“Jah.”

She joined him on the porch swing. The yard was tiny, but someone had spent a great deal of time planting yellow, orange, and red flowers. They were sun lovers that arched toward the sky as if seeking summer. Flowers that embraced the South Texas heat. A nice view to take a person's mind from her troubles.

“I'm sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” She glanced at Tobias. Sadness etched lines around his mouth and eyes. “It's not your fault.”

“I know how you wanted this to end with a happily ever after.”

“I'm not a silly girl. I know better than to expect happily ever after.” She also knew what it was like to lose a parent. Lupe was even younger than she'd been when her daed left the earth. “It's just that they've been through so much.”

“They have. Too much for kinner so young.”

“It makes me wonder what Gott's plan is for them.”

“But not to question that He has one.”

She rubbed at a stain on her apron. “I believe, if that's what you're asking me.”

“So do I, even when it seems impossible to see the gut in
something so heinous.” His hand slipped over hers. His fingers, warm and strong, squeezed. “I do see the gut in you. So much gut. A gut heart. You will be a gut mudder.”

His praise melted the hard knot of anger and fear of the future that had been barricaded in her heart since Leila ran away with Jesse, leaving her alone and lonely. All her hopes and dreams seemed within reach again. “I'm happy you think so.”

“I know so. I can see you running after the kinner, shaking a rolling pin at them and warning them to be on their best behavior when groosmammi and groosdaaddi come for supper.”

She smiled at the image. “Are you in this picture too?”

The question came out with no thought to how it would sound.

“I am if you'll let me be, if you'll forgive me for losing my way for a while. If I had known you were waiting, I would've come sooner.”

His fingers squeezed again. She sniffed against tears that couldn't be allowed to fall. “I was thinking that if you hadn't been . . . in love with the Englisch girl, you wouldn't have come here and we never would've met.”

“Gott's plan then?”

“Maybe. It helps to think of it that way. What else do you see in that picture you're imagining?”

“I see Lupe and Diego in the picture.”

She closed her eyes. She saw them too. Diego playing kickball with Hazel. Lupe helping Hazel make her favorite snickerdoodle cookies. “Me too.”

“Whatever it takes.”

She wasn't sure what that meant.

“We'll do what it takes to keep them here. In America.”

“I agree.”

“Even if it means breaking the law?”

Rebekah studied the beautiful yellow flowers shaped like horns. “I don't want to break the law. We've already done that by keeping them in our homes this long. I think we should have Karen help us do it the right way. But no matter what, they stay with us.”

“Agreed.”

Tobias leaned in and kissed her cheek as if to seal the promise. She turned her head until their lips met.

The sound of a throat clearing was like a shot fired. She jumped. Tobias's hand jerked away. The images of their shared future fluttered away on the breeze.

Jesse stood on the porch, frowning. He slapped both hands on his hips, looking the spitting image of his father, Leroy. “You may be away from home, but the same standards apply.”

He might as well have said Gott was watching, the way Mudder would've.

“We're just—”

“I know what you were doing.”

“Did you want something?” Tobias didn't seem nearly as shaken as Rebekah felt. He eased back onto the swing. “Or is it time to go?”

“I came out here to tell Rebekah something.”

She clasped shaking hands in her lap. They still felt the warm pressure of Tobias's fingers. “What is it?”

“You were right. I'm not going to Dallas to college. Not yet anyway.”

“You're not? I mean, that is good news, if it's what you want. Seminary was your dream.”

“It still is, but you were right. There is work to be done. A lot
of people who need my help now. Not later when I'm through studying.”

He looked so sure of himself, so happy at the thought. A silver lining in this trip and the terrible news it brought. Leila and the babies would stay close to home. Rebekah would find a way to watch them grow up, even if it wasn't at the house down the road. Tobias's scent of leather wafted over her.

One of the silver linings.

How did a person tell children their father was dead? Now Rebekah knew how Mudder had felt six years ago when she had to tell not two but five kinner that Daed was gone. She peeked into the kitchen. Lupe sat at the table with Hazel and Diego. They were drawing with crayons. Hazel and Diego chattered and giggled as if something had happened too funny for words. Lupe might feel too old for such an activity, but it didn't show. She had great patience, it seemed, for the younger children, praising Diego's tree and helping Hazel with her kitty cat.

“You want me to tell them?” Tobias removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “I've had some experience with this.”

“I have more Spanish.” She inched into his space, longing for a touch that would soothe the pain she felt at being the bearer of this bad news. “I'll start with Lupe. Diego is too young to remember his daed. It won't mean much to him. Lupe remembers.”

“And she had hope of having a parent here, family, in this new country.”

“Now she'll have no one.”

“She'll have us.”

The promise in those words made her smile. “No sense in putting it off.”

“I'll wait outside. Come find me when you're done.” His gaze warmed her more than any fireplace blaze. “I have something to ask you.”

Again, a promise in the words.

“Until then.” With a quickly breathed prayer, she marched into the room. “Time for bed. Hazel, you and Diego run upstairs and get ready for prayers. I have to talk to Lupe.”

Lupe began to stack the papers. “See pretty pictures we make?”

“They're very pretty.”

Lupe looked up, one hand suspended in air. “You have something to tell me.”

A perceptive child. “I do.”

“You find out something in San Antonio?”

“We did.”

“We have to go jail.”

“Nee, nee.” Rebekah slid into a chair across the table from her. “It's about your daed.”

Lupe ducked her head and slipped the crayons into the box one by one. “You find him?”

“Jah.”

Lupe's gaze darted around the room. “He didn't come for us? He didn't want to see us? Why you not tell Diego? I go get Diego.”

She popped from her chair. Rebekah grabbed her arm before she could slip by. A tear slid down Lupe's cheek and teetered on her upper lip. “He not come.”

“He's dead, Lupe. He's gone.”

Lupe sank against Rebekah's chest and buried her head in her shoulder. “No, no, he not dead. He here waiting for us. He
take us to California. We live by ocean. We eat
pescado
and pick up shells.”

“Did he tell you that in a letter?”

“No, Abuela tell me that. She said find him and we go to California. We eat fish from the ocean. That's what she said.”

The tears soaked Rebekah's dress. She tightened her arms around Lupe and began to rock. “It's okay. It's okay. You'll stay with us and we'll eat fish from Choke Canyon Lake and go swimming in the Gulf of Mexico. We'll find shells there and glue them on wood in pretty patterns. We'll eat deep-fried shrimp and fried pickles. You'll see. You'll like it.”

The tears subsided into an occasional hiccupping sob. Lupe raised her head. “What happened to Papa? He sick?”

If telling Lupe that her daed was dead had been hard, this was even harder. He risked everything to come to this land of opportunity, this land of plenty, only to suffer a terrible, painful death at the hands of criminals, the likes of which there were plenty back home. “They said some men where he was staying robbed him and beat him up. He died.”

“Bad men.”

“Jah, bad men, not the bad men you know, but bad men.”

Lupe grabbed a dish towel from the table and wiped her face. She sniffed. “We bury him?”

Another piece of information that would be like a knife in this young girl's heart. “He's already buried.” She didn't need the details. Buried in a pauper's grave because no one claimed the body. “You don't have to worry about that.”

“I tell Abuela. I write letter.” Her face solemn, Lupe picked up a piece of paper and pushed away from Rebekah. “She should know her son dead.”

Yes, her son. “You want me to help you?”

Lupe shook her head. “I write. You read then.”

“I'll make you some tea.”

As if tea could ease the aching heart of a child who now had no mother and no father. A child far from home and from the one family member on whom she'd always depended. Rebekah made the tea and sat with Lupe while she wrote, slowly, carefully, the tip of her tongue peeking from the corner of her mouth, her cheeks wet with tears she didn't pause to wipe away. Time passed but she didn't stop and Rebekah didn't dare interrupt. Mordecai came to the door. She shook her head and he slipped away.

The clock read after ten when Lupe finally looked up, dropped the pen on the table, and shoved the paper toward Rebekah. “You read.”

“Are you sure? It's private.”

Lupe cocked her head, her expression puzzled. “You family.”

“I'll read and then I'll put it in an envelope for you. Come here.” She hugged Lupe hard, patted her back, and let her hand slide down the child's soft hair. “You and Diego will be fine. I promise.” She whispered the words into her ear. “We'll tell him tomorrow, okay?”

Lupe leaned back so Rebekah could see her face. “We fine with you. We stay with you and Tobias.”

Rebekah nodded and said a silent prayer that Gott would help her keep that promise. “Get ready for bed. I'll be up in a minute and we'll say prayers.”

“I pray to stay with you and Tobias. Tobias is hombre bueno.”

“He is hombre bueno. That's a good prayer.”

There were so many bad men in the world, it seemed. To cling to one of the good ones was a special blessing. Looking much
older than her twelve years, Lupe patted Rebekah's face.
“Buenas noches. Díos te bendiga
.”

Good night and God bless you.

Rebekah waited until Lupe left the kitchen, shuffling her feet like an old lady, to pick up the letter. It was written in such simple Spanish, she was able to understand most of it. Tear splotches ran some of the ink, making it hard to decipher in a few places. She picked up the towel Lupe had used so she wouldn't add to the mess.

Dear Abuela,

Here we are in America. We are safe with a family that is Amish. They take care of us. They try to help us. They try to find Papa. I'm sad to tell you that Papa is dead. I know this makes you sad and I'm sorry I am not there to give you a hug and cry with you. I think he is in heaven. Bad men killed him. They will not go to heaven, I think. He is buried in a nice place with pretty flowers and shade trees. Please don't be sad for me and Diego. We will be good here with Rebekah and Tobias. They will take care of us. They won't let the bad men get us. They let us make pupusas and curtido. Rebekah teaches me to bake bread and plant tomatoes. We will learn English and go to school. Diego had a mouse named Pedro for a pet but he ran away. Now he has a turtle named Tomas. Turtles can't run away. Little boys need pets. I don't need a pet. I wish for us to be together, but I know we can't. Don't worry. We will make our way here like you wanted us to do. We will have the good life you wanted us to have. I will write again when I have better news.

Besos y abrazos,

Guadalupe

Kisses and hugs. Lupe had embellished her father's burial place with flowers and shade trees, but Rebekah didn't begrudge her this. Or her grandmother. She folded the letter in thirds with shaking fingers and slid it into the envelope. Tomorrow Lupe could address it and together they would go to the post office and mail it.

Then Lupe and Diego would start their new life. Whatever it took, Rebekah would make sure they had that. She and Tobias together would make it possible.

Time to go see what Tobias wanted to ask her. Time to see about her own new life.

A star-filled night sky. The scent of fresh-mowed grass wafting in the air. A soft breeze that felt cool on Tobias's face after the heat of an August day. Karen had given Jesse a ride home. Everyone here had gone to bed. A man couldn't ask for a better place or time to ask such an important question. Gott had led him here, to this moment. All the way from Ohio. He'd given Tobias his second chance at love. The right love.

He inhaled, wiggled in the rickety lawn chair, and tried to ignore the whirlybird gymnastics of the butterflies in his stomach. A grown man didn't get butterflies in his stomach. The screen door creaked. The butterflies soared and dive-bombed his stomach. He squinted in the semidark. Rebekah padded barefoot across the wooden porch floor. She looked tired and sad and all the same, beautiful.

“You're still here. I was afraid it was so late you'd have left.”

“Nee.”

Now that she was here, he found himself wordless. To take this step meant to give up all his fears, to step out in faith no matter what the future brought. Agonizing joy or beautiful pain.
He could keep his mouth shut and lose nothing. Or ask for everything and have everything to lose.

She settled into the lawn chair on the other side of an upside-down bushel basket that served as a table of sorts. It held a Ball quart jar that someone had used as a tea glass and a pile of buttons sorted by color and size. Why, Tobias couldn't imagine.

“You said you wanted to ask me something.”

He cleared his throat. “How did it go with Lupe?”

“That's what you wanted to ask me?” Her tone was irritable. “She was sad. She wrote a letter to her groossmammi to tell her of her daed's death. That's a hard thing for a little girl to do.”

“For anyone to do. What did you tell her about the future?”

“I told her not to worry. She said she wanted to stay with us. She said you're a hombre bueno.”

“Did you agree—about the hombre bueno part?”

He slaughtered the pronunciation of the Spanish words, but she nodded, her dimples appearing and disappearing.

He swallowed and cleared his throat again. She leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms, her gaze on the yard.

He had not lost his nerve. He would not flinch in the face of a future that included this woman and those children. He stood and lifted the bushel basket to the other side of his chair. Then he shoved his chair over so the arm touched hers.

“What are you doing?”

“What's it look like?”

“Like you've lost your mind.”

He settled into the chair and tugged her hand from her lap. “I reckon I have.” Her skin was warm and soft. He ran his fingers along hers. She sighed. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each finger. “I know I have.”

“Tobias.”

“We haven't known each other that long.” He settled her hand back on her side of the chair's arm. “We haven't courted the way most folks do. Not really.”

“It's been a strange summer.” She sounded as if she'd been running. “The kinner from another country. Leila and Jesse. David and Bobbie. You.”

All combined for getting to know each other in a way that wouldn't have been possible otherwise. Gott's plan? “Before Karen left, I talked to her. While you were with Lupe.”

“About what?”

“About representing those kinner. Finding a way to make them legal and keep them here.”

“Can she do that?”

“She said she'd try. I told her we wanted them. You and me. She said she understood. She said a married couple would have better chances. Like Jesse and Leila. Or Mordecai and your mother. I told her not to worry about that.”

Rebekah's eyebrows popped up. “You told her not to worry. What did you mean by that?”

He was playing ring-around-the-rosy with the words. Instead of coming right out and asking her. There was a right way and a wrong way to do this. He stood again and tugged on her hand. “Stand up.”

She stood. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. He took her hand again. “Will you be my fraa?”

“Finally.”

“Finally? That's what you want to say right now?” It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no, either. “We've only known each other since April.”

“I mean tonight. You hemmed and hawed around long enough.” She smiled, the dimples appearing and staying this time. “I was beginning to think you would lose your courage.”

“At least you recognize it takes courage for a man to say those words.”

She leaned into him, her weight slight against him. She closed her eyes and bowed her forehead against his chest. “You haven't even said you love me. Do you love me?”

“Do you think I'd ask—?”

“Tobias Byler! Answer the question.”

“I do love you.”

She raised her head, her eyes bright in the starlight. “I love you too. I will marry you, if you'll have me.”

“Finally!” He lifted her off her feet and kissed her long and hard.

Everything about the day and the week and the summer fell away. Nothing else mattered. Whatever the future brought, it would be worth it. If they had two years or ten, it would be better than the alternative. They would make a home, they would make babies, and they would have a life together. And live the days Gott gave them on this earth to their fullest. When those days ended, he would go a happy, content man.

He set her on her feet. She swayed and slapped her hand on his arm to steady herself. He chuckled.

“Don't laugh.”

“I reckon I swept you off your feet.”

“I reckon you did.” She stood on her tiptoes and put her hands on his cheeks. “My turn.”

Tobias leaned down and embraced her, letting his lips cover hers. What she lacked in experience she made up for with
wonder and a curiosity born of having waited for this moment with the man with whom she would spend the rest of her life. Every kiss was sweeter than the last. Tobias prayed that would never change.