Sarah's Orphans (24 page)

“Do you like them?” Sarah asked.

“
Ya
. They look just like Isaac's.”

“Say, Mateo. There are
Englisch
and Amish clothes here.” Sarah carefully folded another shirt. “We're going to put several sets of both in your room, and you wear whatever you feel most comfortable in.”

Mateo nodded, and suddenly he couldn't swallow at all. Fortunately, he was saved from crying in front of everyone by Mia. She had found a bag with clothes for her and pulled out a prayer
kapp
. He had asked Sarah about those last week, and she had explained that Amish girls kept their head covered when they were in public. Mia apparently liked the idea because when she found the
kapp
, she plopped down on the floor and tried to put it on her head.

Everyone laughed, including Mia, and then the older woman, Becca's mom, helped her to put it on correctly.

Mateo didn't think either he or his sister were going to want the
Englisch
clothes. Who wanted to look different from everyone else? No, he'd be leaving those in the drawer. Unless his mother came back, which was something that he didn't want to think about. So instead, he accepted a piece of chocolate from
Mammi
and followed the boys out to the barn.

But later, when he saw the women preparing to leave, he gathered his courage and approached Rebecca.

“You run the store, the one across from the barn and trailer?”

“I do, with my husband, and sometimes Paul helps.”

“Paul's our neighbor now.”

“He is.”

“I…I need to apologize.” Mateo wanted to stare at the ground, but he forced himself to look up and into Rebecca's eyes. He saw only kindness there, and perhaps that gave him the courage to confess.

“I took food and stuff from your Dumpster in the back. And once…once I came inside and took some Tylenol. It was for Mia, because she was sick, but I knew…even then, I knew it was wrong.”

Rebecca squatted down so that she was at eye level with him.

“I accept your apology, Mateo, on one condition.”

He nodded, hoping he could do whatever she wanted. Perhaps she would ask him to work to pay for what he'd taken, or even go to the police station and tell Sheriff Bynum.

“The condition is if you will forgive me.”

“For what?”

“That we didn't notice you were in need. That we were too busy to find you and care for you.”

Mateo didn't know what to say. Had anyone ever apologized to him before? On an impulse, he threw his arms around Rebecca's neck and hugged her tightly.

As the women drove away, Mateo felt better than he could ever remember feeling. He hadn't realized that the memory of what he'd stolen had bothered him so much. He hadn't understood that he needed to make things right.

But now he knew, and he'd learned his lesson.

The next time he needed help, he would ask.

CHAPTER 44

T
uesday was the first day that Sarah hadn't had a major mess to deal with. After Becca, Suzie, and Mary Beth had left on Saturday, they had spent the morning rearranging the boys' room to make space for one more bed. “There was a time I had four boys in one room.”
Mammi
helped to move the dresser so that they could put Mateo's new mattress along the wall and between Isaac's and Luke's beds. It looked like a U-shaped sleeping arrangement.

They placed the dressers at the end of the two beds. There was enough room, but just barely. Fortunately, Isaac hadn't minded cleaning out half of his drawers for Mateo.

“They even brought sheets.” Sarah felt a deep satisfaction as she made up the twin-sized bed. Apparently, someone had sent out a call, and they had received donations from nearly every family in their church.

“Remember what we said about community? We help one another, and no doubt they would have done so sooner if they had known that you needed these things.”

“I didn't think to tell them.”

“Someone must have,”
Mammi
said. “I wonder who?”

Not her brothers. That was for certain. They wouldn't have noticed if Mateo was sleeping on the couch. It seemed to her that the males in her family were oblivious to most things as long as they had clean clothes and a hot meal.

“I have no idea.”

“Well, it was someone who cares about you. That much is certain.”

They put up the donated items Saturday morning, scrubbed the house Saturday afternoon, and rested on Sunday since there was no church service. It had taken all day Monday to do laundry, but with
Mammi
there the entire process had gone more smoothly, and they only lost Mia twice.

Now it was Tuesday, and Sarah was looking forward to a day of sewing and maybe even beginning to plant their vegetable garden if the day warmed up enough.

All thoughts of gardening flew away when an
Englisch
car pulled up in front of the house. She glanced out the window and saw Chloe Vasquez walking up to their porch. “I forgot about the newspaper reporter coming today.”

She had shown
Mammi
the initial article in the
Mayes County Chronicle
, worried she might disapprove.
Mammi
had simply nodded and said, “
Gut
. People will know that children need homes.”

Now
Mammi
smiled at her and said, “Why don't you two do your interview in the kitchen. I'll watch over this little one.”

So she'd hurried to the door and then spent thirty minutes answering Chloe's questions.

What was the hardest part so far?
Finishing the twenty-seven hours of classes.

What was the best?
Seeing the children smile whenever she did the simplest thing for them.

Did she regret getting involved?
No. Not at all.

What worried her the most?

Sarah hesitated, and Chloe set down her pen. “Something you want to talk about?”

“It's a small thing. Maybe it's small. It seems big to me…”

“Just tell me.”

“Sometimes Mateo speaks in both Spanish and English, interchanging the words.”

To Sarah's surprise, Chloe laughed. “Some people call it Spanglish. I think that's pretty natural. Teens do it all the time. Even my husband does, and he just turned thirty-five.”

“Your husband?”

“Hispanic, remember? My last name is now Vasquez.”

“I forgot!”

“It's okay. I'd love for him to come out and meet the kids sometime. When you feel like they're settled.”

“Could he…or could you…maybe teach me some Spanish words?”

“I'd be happy to, and you know what? I imagine Mateo would like to teach you some too.”

The next hour passed quickly. When Chloe drove away, Sarah's head was filled to the brim with English and Spanish. She was thinking of that when Mia and
Mammi
appeared in the kitchen, and Henry tromped in through the back door.

“You might want to come and see this.” He grinned impishly and ducked back outside before she or
Mammi
could ask any questions.

Grabbing a shawl, both holding on to one of Mia's hands, they hurried in the direction of the barn. Sarah was surprised to see Paul's tractor parked outside the front door of the barn, and even more surprised to see him unloading a crate.

Squawks came from the crate, and
Mammi
clapped her hands. “Chickens!”

Chickens? Paul had brought them chickens? He looked up, met her gaze, and smiled, as if he had brought them a Christmas present, as if she wanted chickens.

Sarah did not want one more thing to feed or clean up after.

Mammi
and Mia were enchanted.

“This is
wunderbaar
, Paul.”

Had they met already? Apparently, sometime in the last five days, they had. Already their family was back and forth so much that it seemed as if Paul's place was merely an extension of their own. Sarah wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Her brothers were getting awfully attached to Paul. What if he packed up and left? Could they deal with being abandoned again? Which was a ridiculous thing to worry about. She couldn't protect her brothers against all of life's changes, and Paul gave no indication he was doing anything other than settling in.

She returned her attention to the chickens.

“I appreciate the thought, but we already have two…”

“Hardly enough for such a large family, and I heard they weren't producing many eggs.”

“Where did you hear that?”

Ignoring her question, he added, “You had six a while back, didn't you? Before the coyote problem?”

“Yes, but—”

“Someone offered me a
gut
deal on them.” Paul smiled.

To Sarah it seemed as if he were delivering a well-rehearsed line.

“I can't look after them at this point,” he continued. “But I thought if I gave them to you that maybe the boys could take care of them, and you know…share the bounty.”

“It's a perfect chore for Isaac and Mateo.”
Mammi
clapped her hands together. “Isaac, in particular, has shown a real interest in animals.”

“Yup. Caught a squirrel last week.” Henry noticed Sarah's look of dismay and added, “We convinced him to let it go.”

Sarah finally found her voice. “Where are we going to keep them?”

“Need to make a bigger and better chicken coop,”
Mammi
said. “I'm sure Andy has some extra lumber.”

“And I brought chicken wire. It…uh…occurred to me that you might need some.”

Sarah wasn't buying it. She didn't believe that Paul had simply come across a “good deal” that included six laying hens, one rooster, and chicken wire. She waited until everyone else, including Mia, had followed the chickens into the barn, and then she stepped in front of him.

“I should probably help,” he mumbled.

“Tell me again where the chickens came from, Paul.”

“Where they came from?”

“Uh-huh. Who offered you a good deal?”

“Who?”

“You sound like an owl. Answer the question.”

“Oh. Well, Rebecca got some in at the store.”

“Your sister-in-law does not carry live poultry in her store.”

“True, but—”

She glanced into the pickup bed attached to his tractor. “And your deal included both chicken wire and several bags of feed?”

Now he was looking anywhere but directly at her.

“You ordered them.”

Paul squirmed uncomfortably, but he didn't deny what she'd said.

Sarah remembered something her grandmother had said earlier, when they'd been discussing how the donation drive had started.
Mammi
had said their needs must have been shared by
someone who cares about you
.

“Did you have anything to do with the two mattresses and sacks of clothes and a box of toys for Mia?”

“I might have mentioned to Rebecca—”

“And now you've bought us chickens.”

“It's a small thing, Sarah. Every family can use fresh eggs, and I know that you all will take
gut
care of them.”

He was frowning again, no doubt worried that she was going to argue with him, possibly concerned that she was going to send the squawking birds back.

She didn't do either.

Suddenly she realized that Paul was a
gut
neighbor. Maybe even more than that. It was possible that the frown he often wore covered his concern, that he wasn't comfortable sharing his feelings. She understood that well enough. And was it so necessary to say a thing when one's actions plainly displayed it?