The Saddle Maker's Son (4 page)

Bath time didn't usually happen on a weeknight. Nor did it involve so much shouting and carrying on. Tobias wiggled in the hickory rocking chair and tried to focus on the newspaper in his lap. He inhaled the familiar scent of newsprint. The same everywhere. He'd done this hundreds of times in their old house on their old farm back in Ohio. Got his hands black with ink reading about what Plain folks were doing all across the country, how they planted, how they grieved their dead, and how they welcomed their newborn. School picnics and birthdays and loads of folks headed out for visits.

He should be headed to bed himself, but he wanted to see what was going on in his old neighborhood. Edith Byler, a distant cousin, was a faithful scribe. A wave of homesickness flooded him. Serena's face floated in his mind's eye.
Stop it.

“Get back here!”

Martha's screech filled the room, followed by a streak that turned out to be Diego hurling himself across the front room, his skinny legs and arms pumping. He wore only the dirty pants he'd arrived in and the scruffy Mickey Mouse backpack that never seemed to leave his side.

“Whoa!” Tobias unfolded himself from the chair, sections of the newspaper slipping to the floor. “What's going on here?”

Diego planted himself behind Tobias, one arm around Tobias's leg just above the knee. He peeked out, a frown swallowing up his dark face.

“He won't get in the tub.” Sweat dripped from Martha's face. Her cheeks were red with exertion and exasperation soaked her words. She wiped at her face with the threadbare towel in her hands. “He can't get in bed like that. He's filthy and he reeks of garbage. And he won't let go of that backpack. He needs to set it aside for five minutes while I scrub him down.”

“Where's Lupe?” Tobias peeled Diego's hands from his leg and knelt. He put an arm around the boy's shoulder. “Maybe he doesn't want to take his clothes off in front of a strange girl.”

“I sent her upstairs with Nyla after her bath. Nyla and Ida will try to get the snarls out of her hair. We may have to cut it to comb it. And I'm not strange—”

“A stranger. Someone he doesn't know.” Tobias patted the rocking chair. “Diego sit?”

Diego shook his head and hugged his backpack to his chest. His ribs stuck out so far Tobias could count each one. He had a long scar on one arm and chigger bites ringed his waist above the waistband of his sagging pants.

“We won't take your backpack, I promise.” Tobias moved toward the kitchen door. Diego moved with him. Progress. “What if I help you take a bath? We'll send Martha upstairs with the girls, where she belongs.”

“Hey—”

Tobias shook his head. “The boy needs his privacy.”

“Of all the—”

“Humor me.”

Martha whirled and stomped up the stairs, her chest heaving with indignation.

Tobias grinned at Diego. “Women.”

Diego's smile was tentative. He didn't understand, but then, words weren't the only way to communicate with little boys.

“You like to swim?” Tobias moved his arms in a swimming motion, ducking his head and bringing it up as if breathing between strokes. “I like to play in the water. Splash. Splash.”

He marched toward the kitchen, not glancing back to see if Diego followed. Martha had filled the washtub in the laundry room off the kitchen. By now the water she'd warmed from the stove had likely cooled, but on a late-spring evening in South Texas, who needed warm bathwater? Tobias knelt and trailed his hand through the water. “Feels good. I wish it was bath night for me. I'd jump right in.”

Diego's lower lip protruded. His dark eyes looked suspicious. He let one hand rest on the edge of the huge tub. He shook his head.

Tobias plunged his arm in the water and splashed Diego.

“Ay!” The boy ducked and staggered back.

“What, are you afraid of a little bit of water?” Tobias laughed and splashed again, making sure to get plenty on himself. “It's only water. I'm thinking you and Lupe crossed some creeks and streams and rivers to get here. At least this is clean water.”

Diego laid his backpack next to the pile of clothes that Tobias fully intended to burn when the boy wasn't looking. He splashed with both hands, giving Tobias a good soaking.

“Good job!” Tobias splashed back. Diego giggled, a sweet, sweet sound. Tobias laughed. He plunged both hands in to keep up with Diego's shorter, faster efforts.

In seconds they were both dripping.

“Get in—you're wet now anyway.”

Still grinning, Diego cocked his head. He eyed the backpack.

“I won't touch it.” Tobias pointed his finger at Mickey. “It belongs to you. I understand.”

Diego's command of the English language might not be much, but somehow he understood. Before Tobias could help him, he climbed over the edge of the tub and threw himself in the water, underwear and all.

Good enough. Tobias tossed in an old, yellow rubber duck someone had given to Liam. He insisted on keeping it around for bath time. Diego bobbed in the water, scooping the toy up and tossing it about. He giggled, sounding like Liam or any other little boy his age.

“Now for the soap.” Tobias tossed a bar into the water. Diego backed away. “The point is to get clean.”

He made scrubbing motions on his face, pantomiming cleaning behind his ears, his face scrunched up as if he really hated it. Diego plunged his face into the water and came up with his hair dripping. “Good job. Now soap.”

“Soap.” Diego grabbed the floating bar and held it up. “Soap.”

“Clean.”

“Clean.”

“See, you'll speak English before you know it.”

Diego lay back on the water in a semifloat, his face blissful. The water had already turned brown without the help of soap and a washrag. He should smell better too. Not that most little boys didn't smell like dirt and sweat anyway.

“What do you think is in the backpack?” Martha peeked around the corner. She kept her voice a whisper as if afraid Diego
would run again. “He seems to think we're going to steal whatever it is.”

“I reckon it's all he has left of home.” Tobias sat back on his heels and rubbed his aching knees. “Whatever it is, it's none of our business.”

“He might have clean clothes in there.”

“After traveling thousands of miles from home, I doubt that. It's not like they stopped in at a Laundromat along the way.” Diego began to sing in Spanish, a breathy tuneless song that told Tobias he had relaxed like a little boy taking a bath should. “Besides, he's about Liam's size. He can wear his clothes.”

“That's what I thought. I brought him these. If he doesn't want the nightshirt he can sleep in the clothes.” Martha held out a clean, folded nightshirt, pants, and shirt. “Make him wash that hair. It smells like a Dumpster.”

“I may have to get in there with him to get him to do it.”

Martha smiled. “You'll be a good daed one day. You have the knack.”

Pleasure swept through Tobias at the thought. Followed by a wave of fear. More children to protect. His shoulders ached with the imagined burden. Eight brothers and sisters were enough. More than enough. Too much sometimes. The fear of losing them filled his head late at night, keeping him awake. Why would a man want more of that?

He ducked his head, knowing his face had turned red. “We'll wait to see what Gott's plan is.”

Martha disappeared through the doorway, leaving Tobias with his thoughts and a boy who didn't weigh fifty pounds soaking wet. He scooped the soap from the water and rubbed it in
his hands until he had a nice lather. “Here we go. Time to wash that hair.”

Diego worked his way to the other side of the tub. Tobias went after him. The boy shrieked with laughter. “Don't laugh so loud—the other kinner will want to take baths every night if it sounds like this much fun!”

Fifteen minutes later Tobias was soaked from head to foot and exhausted, but Diego was squeaky clean. Tobias lifted him from the tub and set him on his feet next to the backpack. He handed him a towel. “Wear the nightshirt. You'll sleep better.”

Tobias was the one who would sleep well—at least he hoped so. It had been a long day. The discussion with the elders. Volleyball. Rebekah.

Rebekah. He concentrated on rubbing Diego's hair. No thinking of Rebekah. Tall, slim, full of vinegar. Trouble with a capital
T
. What would she see in a man like him who'd thrown his love away on an Englisch girl? He didn't really want to love anyone. Not if it meant losing her the way Daed lost Mudder. Why did a person put himself through that?

Where was Gott's hand in that?

Gott should smite him with a mighty sword for being so hardheaded. Stiff-necked, as Scripture put it.

I'm sorry, Gott. I can't help myself. I've tried. You know I have.

Diego tugged at his hand, his expression rueful. Tobias eased up with the towel. “What, am I rubbing too hard?”

Diego snatched the backpack from the floor and held it out. “See?”

“See what?” He'd made inroads in Diego's trust. The thought made Tobias smile. He undid the zipper, prepared to find family
photos, small toys, keepsakes from another life. “I'm glad you want to share.”

A small creature peeked its head from the opening. Brown. Beady eyed, its nose wiggling. It ducked back into the pack.

Tobias stumbled back a step. He stared at the backpack, then at Diego. “That's a mouse.”

Diego nodded so hard Tobias thought his head might fall off. He slapped a hand to his chest. “
Mi amigo.
Pedro.”

“Your friend?”

Diego had a pet mouse. Had he traveled all the way to America from El Salvador, or had the friendship been struck somewhere along the way?

Diego grabbed Tobias's hand. His grin stretched across his clean face, his eyes nearly hidden by squeaky clean hair that needed to be cut. “Mi amigo
también
.”

Tobias's heart flopped. Mouse or not, another child to protect or not, it didn't matter. He'd made a friend. From the look on Diego's face, he was the kind who would be a friend for life.

Tobias heaved a breath, his chest tight with apprehension.

Another person he would have to protect.

Another person poised to leave.

The shriek raised the hair on the nape of Susan's neck. School hadn't even begun for the day and the scholars were up to something unruly. Usually she had thirty minutes or more to prepare while they played kickball in the yard before she rang the bell and classes started. Not today, it seemed. Rebekah had stayed behind at the house to help Abigail move some heavy rugs that needed to be cleaned. She would be in later.

Sighing, Susan dropped the piece of chalk she'd been using to write assignments on the board and strode to the door left open to allow the early morning breeze to clear stuffy air from the classroom. The kinner weren't on the makeshift ball field. They were clustered around the girls' outhouse. Boys and girls.

“What now?” She stepped out onto the porch.

Mary broke away from the crowd, raced across the yard, and hurled herself up the steps. “Teacher, Teacher!”

“What is it? What's wrong?”

“Rattlesnakes. Lots of snakes.” Mary gasped for air, breathed, and stumbled to a stop. “Baby snakes.”

“Rattlesnakes? Where?” Susan grabbed the hoe the girls had
left on the porch after the last frolic to clear the weeds and create a field that could be used for baseball, kickball, or volleyball, her scholars' three favorite recess activities. Usually she didn't worry much about snakes—except the rattlers, and this was the season when many of God's creatures had their babies. “Did anyone get bit?”

“Nee, not yet, but Hazel wants to take one home. She thinks the babies are cute. I had to wrestle her back. I think Diego wanted to go kill them for us. It's hard to tell, he talks so fast.” Mary took Susan's arm and tugged. “There's a whole den of them right outside the girls' outhouse.”

Goose bumps raced up Susan's arms. Her entire body wanted to return to the schoolhouse. In fact, her head wanted to run home and go back to bed. Instead, hoe in hand, she trotted after the girl. If she could scatter the babies, maybe mama snake would decide to take up residence in another location. If she didn't decide to make an appearance during Susan's attempt to roust her babies. Chopping off the heads would be like trying to bob for apples with no hands.

The kinner stood in a tight half circle well out of reach of the outhouse. Caleb rushed forward, little Diego on his heels. The boy seemed to have latched onto her nephew. “Want me to chop their heads off? I can do it.”

“Nee, stay back and keep Diego with you. I don't know how dangerous the babies are, but the momma snake can't be too far away.”

“Babies have a lot of venom and they know how to use it.”

Caleb surely got his information from Mordecai. Susan wasn't taking any chances with her sister-in-law's only son. “Just stay back.”

Hoe lifted over one shoulder, Susan swallowed her dislike and fear of all snakes but this kind in particular and inched forward until she could peek around the corner of the small white shack. Indeed, a whole mess of them roiled about along the back wall. She swallowed again, closed her eyes, and opened them.

“What's going on?”

She whirled. Levi pulled his wagon to a halt in the yard. “Oh, thanks be to Gott.”

His bushy eyebrows pushed up and stayed up, giving him a quizzical look.

“I mean, it's just that we have a mess of baby rattlers right outside the outhouse. I'm afraid—”

“I can see that.”

“I was going to say I'm afraid the kinner will be bitten.” What was it about this man that made her tongue disconnect from her brain? “I was about to take care of them.”

Levi hopped from the wagon, his tall, lean body unfolding with a grace surprising in an older man. He reached from under the seat. Out came a long, slim rifle. “Were you planning to weed them to death?”

Susan couldn't decide if there was even a hint of humor in the question. It was hard to tell with his deep green eyes fastened on her face. She wanted to stand there as long as it took to decide. Even with snakes slithering nearby. What did that say about her state of mind this fine morning? That the teacher better stop mooning around and be the teacher? “Chop their heads off.” She took a breath and willed herself to move her gaze from his face to the rifle. “You carry a rifle in your wagon?”

“I just hadn't put it away yet from the trip here. It seemed the safest place to keep it with so many curious kinner running
around.” He held the rifle close to his chest with both hands. “You chop babies' heads off, you have to bury them or kinner will step on them with their bare feet. The kinner need to back up.”

The man wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know, yet he sounded so wise with that deep, gravelly voice and even tone. She took a step back. Now why did she do that? “You can't shoot them all.”

“I'll scatter them and look for the mudder. She needs to go. Snakes may be good for getting rid of mice and pests, but we can't have a passel of rattlesnakes so close to the school when we're so far from the closest antivenom.”

Again, all things Susan already knew. Levi strode past her. She inhaled the scent of leather and man sweat. He glanced back, his gaze now quizzical. “Can you keep them back?”

Of course she could. He was a bossy sort. But then, most men were. Susan didn't get bossed around much anymore, not with Mordecai married now.

Neither was she used to standing around while others did the work, even if it involved snakes.

“I can help.” She shifted the hoe so she carried it the same way he did the rifle. “Be your backup. There's a bunch of them.”

He frowned and shook his head. His beard bobbed. “Nee. Stay.”

Stay? Like a
hund
? She bit her tongue and held back, counting to ten forward and backward. Not because Levi said so, but because the kinner were her responsibility. If Levi got bit, she would be the adult in charge of getting him help. She eyed the wagon. At least the horse was harnessed and ready to go. It took a long time to get from these parts into Beeville and the medical center.

“What's the matter?” Caleb sidled closer, his tone decidedly grown up for a twelve-year-old. Diego mimicked his moves, sidling up on her other side. “Levi will get them for sure.”

“I don't like guns either. Guns or snakes.”

“Which is worse?” Mary posed the question from her post in front of the smaller children.

“I'm not sure.”

“Do the snakes come from eggs like chickens?”

“Nee, they are born alive, just like regular babies.” Only with fangs full of venom and ready to strike. Susan tried not to sound too concerned. “They're not fluffy like baby chicks, you can be sure of that.”

A shotgun blast pierced the air. Susan jumped in spite of herself. Diego shrieked and threw himself to the ground, arms over his head. Lupe barreled forward and collapsed on top of him, covering his body with her own.

“It's okay, it's okay, it's only Levi. Levi is taking care of the snakes.” Susan knelt next to Lupe and laid her hand on the girl's heaving back. “It's Levi. Levi. You understand? Only Levi.”

Lupe raised her head a few inches, her face smudged with dirt. “Gun, pow, pow! Hombres malos.”

“No, no. It's only Levi killing snakes.”

Lupe swiped at her face, smearing the dirt across her cheek and nose. She nodded and moved a few inches away from Diego. Whatever words she murmured to her brother seemed to help. He curled himself up in a ball close to Lupe, and the two huddled together on the ground.

Susan rose and strode to where Caleb stood, arms on his hips in an unconscious imitation of Mordecai. She threw her arm in front of him. “You stay here. I'll go.”

He ducked his head and crossed his arms. “I'm old enough to help.”

She glanced at the outhouse. No sign of Levi. She turned to Caleb. “Keep an eye on the kinner. If I don't come back with Levi, go for help. Leave Sally and Joseph in charge.”

His expression mutinous, he nodded.

Hoe over her shoulder, Susan marched around the building, fighting the urge to tiptoe. She kept her gaze on the ground, willing her breakfast to stay put. No baby snakes curled around her shoes. Levi might need her help. He might have a rifle, but he could still be taken unaware by a rattler and end up with a bite. He was only a man. A tall, muscled man with eyes that lit up his tanned face. Susan shook her head. She was thinking like a teenage girl in the middle of a crisis.

Levi stood at the fence that separated the school property from the Englisch farmer whose field was turning green with alfalfa. He aimed and fired. Again, she jumped. “What is wrong with me?”

She marched across the field, hoe at the ready.

Levi leaned down, scooped up a snake about five or six feet long. He turned, the snake swinging limp from his hand. “What're you doing out here?”

“Helping.”

If she didn't know better, she'd say his eyes rolled the way Caleb's did when she told him he needed to wash his hands before supper. “We covered that already. I told you to stay.”

“I'm not a hund.”

“Nee, you're not.” This time he did smile. The transformation was instantaneous. A young man with eyes the color of a meadow in spring and a smile like the taste of homemade ice cream in summer looked at her for a split second. Then he was gone and Levi
Byler, a widower with a face filled with sadness the color of winter, looked at her. “I would've noticed.”

Susan breathed and concentrated on the offering in his huge, calloused hand. “So you got it?”

Levi glanced at his hand as if only now noticing what he held. “Done. For now. If there's one, there's surely more. The kinner shouldn't be running about barefoot.”

“The closer it gets to summer, the harder it is to convince them of that.” Susan averted her eyes from his prize—and from him. “Should we look for more?”

“We?”

“I'm capable of helping.”

“You're capable of teaching the kinner to stay away from this field and to wear their shoes. That's your job.” His gravelly tone softened. “But the thought is appreciated.”

Put in her place but in such a kindly way she could hardly complain. “What'll you do with it?”

“Make a belt. Or some hatbands. The Englischers like that.”

Levi moved past her. She whirled and skedaddled to keep up with his long strides. He slowed as they approached the kinner. They crowded closer, their faces filled with curiosity. Levi held up the snake. “Got it. You kinner stay out of the field and wear your shoes.”

He glanced at Susan. “And do what Teacher says.”

“We always do.” Caleb offered the statement. He was right. They were good kinner. “Susan plays volleyball with us.”

“Does she?” Levi tugged down the brim of his straw hat with his free hand. “I didn't see her playing last night.”

“I was busy cleaning up spilled cookies because a person snuck up on me. On most nights that doesn't happen.”

“I guess I'll have to come back on most nights.” He tossed the snake in the back of the wagon and laid the rifle under the seat. “It's good that you've cleared the land where they play. Just be very careful around the wood stack and along the fence lines.”

“Thankfully the need for wood has passed.”

He nodded. “Then I best get to work. Tobias is waiting for me at the shop.”

“What about the babies?” Mary walked backward as she posed the question. “The babies were cute.”

“Nee, they were not cute.” Sally shook her head. “Ugh.”

Levi climbed into the wagon and eased onto the seat. “I disposed of a few of them, but the rest are still out there, so be careful where you step. Stay in the cleared areas.”

“Time for school.” Long past time. Time to focus on her job, one that had been enough for her for years and years. That had not changed. The appearance of a new, mature, single man in Bee County had not changed things one whit. “Everyone inside. Get yourself ready for prayers and songs. Ida and Nyla are new. They get to pick today's songs.”

Groaning, the kinner traipsed past her, still talking and giggling about the morning's adventure. Susan waited until the last one tromped through the door, then turned to Levi. Proper thanks were in order, nothing more. “It's good you came by when you did.”

“I reckon so.”

“Your help is appreciated.”

“A person doesn't stand by under such circumstances.”

Of course not. “Then I guess you'll be back by for the kinner later.”

Silly thing to say. Of course he would.

“Either me or Tobias. Today. After that they'll know the lay of the land and Rueben can bring them.”

“That's a good plan.” As if he needed her approval. She crossed her arms over her middle, trying to think of a way to end the conversation that didn't make her sound like a silly goose. “I better get inside. I've asked Lupe to teach the kinner some Spanish words. Simple things like
water
and
apples
and
bread
. It's hard, though, with them not speaking English or German and the smaller kinner not understanding English or Spanish. Otherwise they could talk about geography and the customs in their country too.”

She was running at the mouth.

Levi nodded but didn't say a thing. He snapped the reins. The wagon creaked and the horse whinnied in protest as it turned and headed for the road. Apparently he had nothing else to say.

Not to a silly goose, anyway.