Sarah's Orphans (26 page)

He was thinking about that, about sweets growing on trees, when the door of the old car opened and his
mamá
stepped out.

Mateo froze where he was. He couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to. His feet felt as if they'd been planted into the earth. He was stuck on the side of the road with Mia pulling on his arm. A dozen different emotions swept through his heart in the span of a heartbeat—relief, joy, puzzlement, and even fear.

Mia finally noticed what he was staring at, but she didn't immediately recognize their
mamá
. Mateo did though. He knew her instantly. She looked to Mateo as she'd always looked—slim, rather short, long brown hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, dirty-looking jeans, and a T-shirt that had seen better days. His
mamá
was beautiful. He'd heard enough men say so, but looking at her now he thought she looked tired and too thin.

“Mateo. Mia.
Rápidamente
.”

She held out her arms, and it was like an invisible string pulled Mateo toward her. He was powerless to resist it, though he did remember to check both right and left before crossing the road.

“
Cómo estás?
” She crushed them against her, kissing the tops of their heads and breathing in the scent of them.

For just a moment Mateo pushed away the questions and savored the smell and touch and comfort of her.

The joy of at last being reunited didn't last.

His
mamá
ducked her head into the open door of the car and said, “Aren't my children handsome? I told you.”

The man said something that sounded short and impatient.

“Let's get in the car.” A pickup drove past them, the driver tapping his horn lightly to warn Mateo out of the road. “Hurry, hurry.”

“Where are we going?” Mateo asked, even as he climbed onto the backseat of the car. By the time he had fastened the seat belt around Mia first and then himself, his mother's friend had put the car into drive and sped away, spewing gravel. Sarah's farm faded into the Oklahoma countryside.

“How long are we going to be gone?” He tried to keep the tremble out of his voice. He didn't want Mia to pick up on how frightened he was.

“When did you start questioning me?”

“Sarah will worry.”

“She's not your
familia
.”

“Yes, but—”

His mother turned around in the front seat and studied him. “You did good to find a place for you and Mia to stay, Mateo, but don't sass me. I'm still your
madre
.”

“How did you find us?”

“That snoopy social worker was looking for me. Didn't take too long for me to figure out why, and then it was only a matter of finding the article in the newspaper.”

The man snickered and raised his eyes to the rearview mirror to study Mateo.

Though he wanted to, Mateo didn't look away.

This man was older than his mother. He had lines around his eyes and gray hair in his mustache.

“Are you sure he's eight? Looks small.”

“He takes after his father, but he will grow. Once he becomes a teenager, he will shoot up and put on the pounds like my father. Won't you, honey?”

Mateo nodded dumbly. He felt as if he were stuck in a bad dream. He didn't know why he'd crossed the street and climbed into the car. His
mamá
was acting as if she hadn't abandoned them.

Mia had started to cry and was attempting to unfasten her seat belt. She held her arms out to their
mamá
, and that more than anything scraped against Mateo's heart.

“Stay where you are, Mia. I can't be holding you right now.” She turned around in the seat, reached into her purse, and pulled out a bottle in a paper bag.

And suddenly all the times they had been left, all the things they'd had to do without, and all the ways they had suffered built up in Mateo's heart and spilled over.

“You just left us! Mia was sick, and you never even came back. You didn't care—”

He never saw the slap coming, but he felt the sting. Tears filled his eyes. He brushed them away, anger overriding every other emotion.

“Do not speak to me with that tone, Mateo.”

He had forgotten so much—the fear, the constant knot in his stomach, the feeling of hopelessness.

“I did my best, and you will not speak to me in such a way.” She turned toward the front again, now speaking more to the dashboard than him. “I came back, didn't I?”

It had been a mistake.

He'd been temporarily blinded by the thought of
familia
—a blood relation who had come back for them, who cared enough to find them. But that wasn't what this was about.

Mia had stopped fidgeting and begun sucking her thumb. He hadn't seen her do that in weeks.

Mateo sank lower in his seat, tried to make himself invisible, and listened. He heard the words
benefit check
and
new start
, and then a word he'd long ago learned to dread—
casino
.

The last thing he heard before the man—Orlynn, that's what she'd called him—before Orlynn turned up the radio so that it blared and shut out every other sound was his
mamá
saying, “I found my kids. I think this is our lucky day.”

CHAPTER 48

I
t was nearly seven when Sarah ran up their front steps. She should have been home long ago. The time had slipped away from her, and then there was some problem with the tractors that Henry insisted would only take a minute, and then another, and then still another.

It wasn't unusual for dinner to be late on planting or harvest days, but Isaac and Mateo and Luke had school the next morning. She wanted them in bed on time or they would be a bear to wake up. After asking Henry to slow the tractor so she could jump off at the front of the house, she hurried through the door of their home, threw off her shawl, and made a mad dash for the kitchen.

The house was unusually quiet.

She abruptly stopped on seeing the kitchen. Dinner was on the stove with a lid on the pot. Bread sat on the counter, cooling.
Mammi
was in the rocker she'd recently moved into the kitchen, knitting a pastel blue-and-green baby blanket.

She looked up, smiled at Sarah, and then she seemed to realize that something was wrong.

Sarah said, “Mateo and Mia…where are they?”

“They're with you.”

“
Nein
. I mean they were, but I sent them home…” Sarah stared out the window, trying to process how much time had passed. Already it was dark. “I sent them home more than an hour ago.”

Mammi
dropped the knitting on top of the basket next to her chair. “They never got here.”

“But…I saw them. I saw them walk down Paul's lane and then—”

“Did someone say my name?”

“Sure smells
gut
in here.”

“I'm starved.”

“Out of my way. I'm the hungriest.”

The bantering fell over and surrounded her, but it didn't pierce the block of ice that had formed around her heart.

“What's wrong?” Paul pushed through the boys, took her by the arm, and forced her to turn and look at him. “Tell me what's wrong, Sarah.”

“Mateo and Mia, they never…they left your place. Mia wanted to come back to
Mammi
, and I wanted to stay and enjoy the afternoon. Mateo said that he could find his way, that it was just next door.”

Andy had crowded into the middle of the room. “He didn't get lost, Sarah. He knew his way home well enough. Maybe he became distracted by something and then as darkness fell…”

“We'll look.” Paul squeezed her arm and turned to her
bruders
. “We'll all look.”

“I'll take the barn,” Isaac said.

“And I'll look down the lane, both sides.” Henry turned to Luke. “We both will.”

“
Ya
. Of course.”

“You'll all need flashlights.”
Mammi
hurried into the mudroom and returned with half a dozen flashlights. Just yesterday she'd insisted that Sarah test each one and be sure they were working.

“Paul and I will take the road and travel back along the lane of his place.” Andy was already walking out the front door, Paul close on his heels.

“Sarah will stay on the porch.”

It was as if
Mammi
read her mind. She couldn't sit at the table. She couldn't just wait inside as if nothing was wrong.

“We'll put a lantern out there. If the children look up and see the light, if they see Sarah, they'll find their way back.”
Mammi
clapped her hands out in front of her. Andy and Paul had stopped at the door. Luke, Isaac, and Henry were nearly out the back.
Mammi
stood in the doorway between the kitchen and sitting room and held her hands out wide, and then she brought them together until her fingers were interlaced.

“We're a family,
ya
? As we search we will pray, and
Gotte
will lead us to them.”

Each person nodded. Sarah found herself hoping, believing, and praying that it was so.

But two hours later there was still no sign of Mateo or Mia.

Mammi
agreed it was time to call the authorities. Paul and Andy left to take a tractor to the phone shack. Within an hour, a Cody's Creek police cruiser made its way down their lane.

Sheriff Bynum took down the information as well as a description of the children.

“Two hours isn't much time,” he pointed out.

“Yes, but it's only been two hours since we started looking.” Sarah rubbed her forefinger against her thumbnail—back and forth, back and forth. “They could have been missing three hours or a little longer.”

They were all in the living room. The boys had eaten, but Sarah couldn't imagine swallowing a bite. Now they were together, all sitting in a circle around the sheriff.

“We usually don't put out an alert unless it's been at least six to twelve hours, preferably twenty-four.”

“But—” Sarah's heart rejected the idea of waiting any longer.

“I know. I know the situation is different with the Amish. However, do you remember a few years ago?” He looked at Sarah and then Andy. “The Stutzman girl went missing. We even brought your teacher in for questioning.”

“Stella had run off with some
freinden
to Tulsa.” Sarah closed her eyes and forced the tears back. “
Ya
, I remember.”

“Surely this situation is different.”
Mammi
sat up straighter and crossed her arms. “Mateo is a young child. He'd have no reason to run away, no one to take him in a car.”

Bynum scratched the side of his face. “I agree with you. I'm going to go ahead and issue a limited alert to our officers in case they see or hear of anyone matching Mateo's and Mia's descriptions. Since the children are involved in the social services program, we'll have pictures of them to distribute as well.”

Sarah remembered the day they'd had those pictures taken. She remembered the way Mateo had insisted she cut his hair first, and Mia had wanted to wear her dress
like Sarah's
. She remembered, and another piece of her heart broke.

“We also have the ability to issue a local area alert. It's not an Amber Alert. In my opinion, we're not there yet.”

“Why not?” Paul asked.

He had refused to leave even when Sarah told him he could go. She was glad to have him there. In fact, she was grateful that the room was full of those she was closest to, almost as if together their love for Mateo and Mia could bring them home.

“Because there's no evidence of an abduction having occurred…yet. If anyone saw something, we can proceed with the Amber Alert. You'd be surprised what people notice. The folks of Cody's Creek keep an eye on one another. It can be helpful in situations like this.”

Everyone agreed, and the sheriff left to make some phone calls. He promised them he would alert Tommy, their caseworker, as well as get word to the bishop.

Mammi
reminded them that they had done all they could do. Now was the time to pray and to believe that God had a plan for Mateo's life. That He cared for Mia. “He hasn't forgotten or forsaken these two small ones. He brought them to us for a reason, and He watches over them still.”

He watches over them still
.

Sarah wanted to believe that—she did believe that—but all the same she trembled at the thought of them alone and frightened. She stepped into the backyard, needing a moment to clear her head. A battery-powered lantern blazed from each window and cast her shadow across the lawn.
Mammi
had placed all of their bedside lanterns in the windows in case the children were somehow lost in the fields.