Sarah's Orphans (27 page)

Sarah didn't realize Paul had followed her out until he cleared his throat, stepped up behind her, and set a hand lightly on each of her arms.

His touch settled her, and his voice calmed her jumpy nerves.

“We will find them. This time tomorrow, they'll be home again. You can trust and believe that, Sarah.” When she didn't respond, he added, “Like
Mammi
said.
Gotte
cares for His children.”

She pivoted toward him and found herself in the circle of his arms, looking up into eyes colored with concern. “Was
Gotte
looking after them when they were living in the old trailer? Where was
Gotte
then?”

Paul wasn't offended by her doubt. He cupped her face in his hands, leaned closer until his forehead was resting against hers, until his voice was only a breath away. “That's when He sent you.”

CHAPTER 49

M
ateo tried to eat the food the waitress brought—waffles and syrup and a glass of water. He'd never liked waffles. They were too sticky, and the sweetness made his stomach hurt. Mia had no such reservations. She had covered hers with syrup and was now pulling it apart with her fingers.

They had driven around for a long time—Orlynn was mad about somebody who was supposed to meet them. Only the man wasn't where he said he'd be. Orlynn tried to call him a few times and finally said, “We've got an hour. Let's feed them while we can.”

The roadside café they stopped at looked dirty and tired, if a café could look tired. Mateo thought maybe it could. How many people had eaten here? How many families had sat on the cracked vinyl seats?

Only the woman sitting across from him wasn't his family—not in any meaningful sense of the word. He'd come to terms with that as they had sped away from Cody's Creek. He was supposed to love his
mamá
, and a part of him did. A part of him always would. Perhaps it wasn't her fault that she would rather take sips from the bottle than eat. Maybe she had a sickness.

He tried to remember the times the bishop had talked to him about praying for his
mamá
. Sarah, too, had said that they should ask the Lord to watch over her.

But what could God do for someone like her?

How do you help someone who won't even listen?

“But we liked it there. I got to go to school, and Mia is learning stuff, like how to cook.”

His
mamá
blew out cigarette smoke with an exasperated sigh. Orlynn had stepped outside to make more phone calls. From where they sat, Mateo could look across the street and just make out the word
CASINO
in bright neon letters.

“You want to know the problem with you,
hijo
? You think about yourself too much.” She stubbed out her cigarette in the tray and immediately lit another. “While you were enjoying the good life, I was trying to find a way for us to get back together.”

“Down,
Mamá
.” Mia sat in a high chair, but she wasn't happy about it. She was too big to be in a high chair and only fit because she was small for her age. She didn't like the confinement. “Down, please.”

When her
mamá
ignored her, she began to finger paint the tray with her sticky fingers.

At Sarah's, Andy had made a block for Mia to sit on, and
Mammi
had sewn a little cushion for it. They laughed and called it “Mia's throne.” That memory made Mateo's heart ache.

His sister had made fast work with her waffle, though she wore as much as she had eaten. Mateo glanced at the clock over the cook's window. It read fifteen minutes after nine, long past the time for Mia to be taking a bath and putting on her pajamas.

“Orlynn has a plan. He's good with cards, and I'm good at distracting people. We could get ahead here.” She pointed the glowing end of her cigarette at him. “Then you and I and Mia could find a nice place to live. Isn't that what you want?”

“You could come back with us—back to Sarah's. She would let you stay, and we could start over there.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Mateo. It's time for you to grow up. People like your Sarah? They're not interested in the likes of me.”

She'd been drinking steadily from the bottle, and now he realized that her eyes had taken on an all too familiar glassy look.

He would have argued with her, even at the risk of another slap across his face. There was no time though. Orlynn arrived, excited about their plan. “This is going to work, baby. She's your size and everything. But…uhhhh…they said no about your kids staying there.”

“That's okay.” His
mamá
laughed, handed Orlynn the empty bottle, and accepted the new one he'd apparently had in the trunk or the glove compartment. Mateo hadn't seen it. If he had, he might have tried to grab it and throw it out the window. “Mateo and Mia are good kids. They'll wait in the car.”

He didn't hear the details of their plan because Mia needed to go to the bathroom.

“You take her. Orlynn and I have some things to work out.”

So he'd helped Mia out of the high chair and led her to the bathroom. Peeking into the men's room, he decided it was too dirty. There was no one in the ladies' room, so he took her in there and locked the door behind them.

“I want Sarah, Mateo.” Mia rubbed at her eyes, smearing more syrup on her face. “I want
Mammi
.”

“I know you do.” He pulled off three paper towels and held them under the tap water. When he was washing her hands and face, she started to cry.

“I want to go home.”

“We will. You don't have to cry, Mia.” He finished cleaning her up and then helped her use the bathroom. Once she was finished, he did his best to straighten her clothes, though his
mamá
had yanked off the prayer
kapp
when they'd first pulled up to the restaurant.

“Looks like a lost prairie girl,” she'd muttered.

Mia's hair was still in a long braid wound around her head—like
Mammi
combed it every morning. That sight, that memory, somehow calmed Mateo's heart.

“We'll get back to Sarah. Don't worry.”

“When?”

“Soon, Mia. Very soon.”

He unlocked the door and reached for her hand. As they walked toward his
mamá
and Orlynn, Mateo vowed to himself that he would find a way to get Mia home. And then he did something he'd never done before. He began to pray that God would show him what to do next.

CHAPTER 50

W
ithin the hour they had their first lead. It wasn't much, but it was something, and something equaled hope. Paul wanted to fall on his knees and thank
Gotte
for that.

“Someone driving by saw two small Hispanic kids being helped into a late-model white Buick.” Sheriff Bynum was reading from notes he had scribbled on a pad of paper.

Paul was sitting next to Sarah.
Mammi
had put on a fresh pot of coffee and set out snacks on the table. No one was hungry, though. No one wanted to act as if life was normal, even if their stomach was growling.

“
Helped?
” Sarah dropped her face into her hands and rubbed at her temples. Sitting up straighter, she waited until Bynum met her gaze. “What do you mean
helped
?”

“Our witness, a man who was driving through to his brother's place ten miles from here, he said it looked as if the children went willingly.”

“Did he see anyone else?” Paul asked.

“Couldn't make out who the driver was, too much glare on the windshield, but there was a small Hispanic woman standing beside the car.”

“Their mother. She came back.” Sarah's voice sounded so lost, so forlorn, that Paul had to fight the urge to take her in his arms.

“This is
gut
news, Sarah.” Andy stood and began pacing back and forth. “At least we know who to look for, right?”

“Right. We have a partial plate on the vehicle, and a description of the mother. We know she wasn't driving—so we're looking for two adults and two children.”

“Can she do that?”
Mammi
had returned to her knitting, though she was doing so with furious speed. “Can she just come back in and steal the children?”

“Yes and no. Yes in that Elisa Lopez has not surrendered her rights to Mateo and Mia. No because social services is now involved, and she has to prove to the courts that she can provide them with a safe place to live.”

“So you will look for her?” Sarah's voice had gained some strength and the color was coming back into her face.

“We've already released a full Amber Alert.” Bynum was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Paul immediately recognized Chloe Vasquez, the young news reporter from the temporary placement hearing.

“Sarah.” Chloe rushed across the room and enfolded Sarah in her arms. When they finally parted, Chloe unashamedly wiping at the tears on her cheeks, Sarah introduced her friend to Sheriff Bynum.

“I was there at the children's initial hearing,” Chloe explained.

“I saw the news article you wrote. The general consensus down at the department was that it might help to find more homes for those little ones still waiting on a family.”

“There was a good response, yes.” Chloe nodded hello to Sarah's brothers and Paul and
Mammi
, and then she turned her attention back to Sarah. “We'll lead with this story on our front page tomorrow. If anyone knows anything, they'll call.”

“Tomorrow—”

“I know.” Chloe's hair was a wild chaos of black curls. They bounced when she nodded her head in agreement. “I know. We want this resolved well before then. Don't worry. We've updated our online website as well. Between that and the Amber Alert that was issued, we're going to find them.”

Andy offered Chloe and Sheriff Bynum a mug of coffee. The three walked off into the kitchen, discussing tip hotlines and police procedures.

Mammi
remained focused on her knitting. Henry, Luke, and Isaac were draped over various pieces of furniture—refusing to go to bed but barely staying awake.

Paul stepped closer to Sarah. “Would you like to walk out on the porch?”

“
Ya
. That would be
gut
.”

They stepped out into the cool March evening. Rain was coming. He could smell it in the night air. According to Andy, it was predicted to rain steadily for the next three days. They would get Andy's crops planted, but they wouldn't do it until the next week. Neither of them was worried. Together, they could and would get the work done in time.

Sarah sank into a rocker and dropped her head into her hands. Paul didn't realize she was crying until her shoulders began to shake.

“Hey. Don't do that. Look at me. Sarah, look at me.” He squatted in front of her and gently raised her face, thumbing away the tracks of tears. “Mateo is a smart boy. He'll find a way to contact us.”

She nodded, gulping and pulling in a deep breath. “It's only that my emotions feel so raw. It's so hard…so hard to keep them reined in.”

He pulled a chair in front of hers, sat in it, and reached for her hands.

“I know it is. You care about those two, and they know you care about them.”

“Why would he get in the car with her? Why would he do that?”

Paul propped his elbows on the arms of his rocker, but he didn't relinquish her hands. Instead, he rubbed them gently, hoping his touch would calm her somehow.

“I can't answer that,” he admitted. “But let me ask you a question. If your mother were to show up on the side of the road, would you walk past her? Or would you stop and speak to her?”

“Of course I would stop, but—”

“And if she said to you,
Sarah, let's go somewhere and talk
. Or maybe,
Sarah, come with me, just for a moment
. Would you go?”

“
Ya
, probably I would.”

“Because you love her. Because she's your mother. Not because you don't love the people here. Right?”

“I guess.”

“Mateo is only an eight-year-old boy, and he's had a lot of upheaval and confusion in his life. I can't imagine what he was feeling when he saw his mother step out of that car, but one thing I do know.” He stood and pulled her into his arms, never wondering what
Mammi
would think, though she was sitting facing the window.
Mammi
would understand. Somehow he was sure of that.

“Mateo and Mia love you. That's plain to anyone who sees them when you're around.”

“I care so much for them, Paul. I can't stand the thought of seeing them hurt or scared.”

“It's hard to let go of those we love, especially the young ones.”