Sarah's Orphans (36 page)

It was a small community in a small town. Paul shouldn't have been surprised that the sheriff knew the teacher, but he was. What surprised him more was the look of grief on the man's face.

The paramedic nodded once, climbed up into the back of the vehicle, and slammed the door shut.

They sped away, lights blaring and siren screaming.

Sheriff Bynum took down their names, though he knew everyone well enough. He'd sat with them when Mateo was missing. It occurred to Paul that he was doing a good job of questioning the boys, keeping them calm and not scaring them with the facts of Brian's condition.

They were interrupted by a second squad car that arrived. Bynum walked over to the officer and said, “I want photos and dirt samples of the tire tracks. That's about all we're going to have to go on for this one.”

The officer set to work, first putting out emergency cones to slow down any traffic.

“Can I give you a ride home?” Bynum asked.

“
Nein
. We all live close, and I have the tractor.”

“All right. I'll be in touch as soon as we know something.” Bynum climbed into his patrol car. He blipped the siren once and drove away toward the bishop's house. An unnatural silence had fallen over the scene. A few people hurried down the road, looking to see what had happened.

But there was nothing to see.

There was no sign of the tragedy that had happened there other than a couple of tire tracks in the mud. Everything was the same as before, and nothing was the same as before.

How quickly life changed.

Mammi
's words came back to Paul.
Never assume you have tomorrow.

He squatted down and pulled both boys to him. “You did
gut
. It was a very sad thing that happened today, but you stayed calm and did the right thing.”

“Is he going to be all right?” Mateo used the back of his hand to brush away his tears.

“I hope so. Let's pray that he is.”

He held them close as each offered up their own silent prayers, and then he squeezed them once more and stood up. As they were walking toward the tractor, Mateo pulled away, hurried over to the fence, and picked up a package.

When he brought it back, Paul could see it was some type of gift.

“For Brian's wife,” Isaac said.

“
Ya
,” Mateo unzipped his backpack, the one that still had blood from his teacher's wound, and stuffed the gift inside. “He can give it to her when he comes home.”

CHAPTER 66

S
arah hurried down the porch steps. She'd been standing there, watching for the boys, and now Paul was driving down her lane. When he came closer, she saw that both boys were with him, scrunched onto the little tractor. He was driving slowly, carefully.

But why was he bringing them home? Why weren't they walking, and why were they late? And what were the sirens she'd heard?

Those questions died on her lips when she saw that Mateo was wearing Paul's shirt, and Paul was standing there in his pants and undershirt. She ran toward the tractor. As soon as it stopped, Mateo and Isaac jumped off. At first they flew to her, wrapping their arms around her, but then they stepped back and glanced toward Paul.

“It's their teacher, Brian. He was hit by an
Englisch
vehicle.”

She covered her mouth with her hand. “How bad is it?”

“They've already taken him to a hospital in Tulsa. Sheriff Bynum said he would pick up Bishop Levi. Together they'll go and tell Katie.”

“Someone should be with her. She'll want someone to stay with the children so she can go and be with him.”

The rest of the Yoders had spilled out of the house. Paul again repeated what he knew, and this time Isaac and Mateo chimed in with bits of information.

“We saw it happen,” Mateo said, his voice shaking.

“Sort of.”

“I saw the truck swerve and then speed away.”

“And he realized it hit Brian.”

“So we ran.”

“And we tried to help.”

“But he was bleeding.” Mateo touched the top of his head. “And his leg was…”

“Broken.”

Their story spent, both boys swiped at their eyes.

Sarah pulled them to her again. What a terrible thing for two children to see. How frightened they must have been.

“Katie's parents live close. They'll stay with the children so she can go to the hospital to be with Brian.” Andy stuck his hands in his pockets. “This is a tragedy for sure. It's hard to imagine…”

They stood there for a minute, their lives temporarily suspended by tragedy in their midst. Luke and Henry and Andy shuffled their feet. Paul stared back the way they had come. Mateo and Isaac studied their hands. Only Mia seemed unmoved by the news, though she did drop her doll into the dirt and proceeded to pat it saying, “You're okay. Don't worry.”

Sarah's emotions tumbled over one another—from grief for Brian, to relief that the boys weren't hurt, to guilt that she could feel relief when one of their community was even now speeding toward the hospital.

It was
Mammi
who took charge and broke through their shock. “Best get inside, boys. You'll need to clean up before dinner. Mateo, put Paul's shirt in the dirty clothes, and I'll wash it tomorrow.”

“There's no need for you to do that,” Paul assured her.

“The shirt has blood all over it, and I doubt you know how to soak and remove the stain. One of Andy's should fit you. Don't be arguing with me, Paul Byler, and I can see you're about to. Dinner will be on the table in ten minutes, and I expect you to join us.”

No one would think of questioning
Mammi
, not when she used that tone. So they all went into the house, shock giving way to sadness. When the screen door had slapped shut behind Sarah, she stopped and looked around their home, surprised that everything looked as it had fifteen minutes ago. Tragedy had once again touched their lives. Their world had changed, and yet their home remained the same.

Dinner was as tasty as ever.

The boys ate, even Isaac and Mateo, though occasionally they would close their eyes and pull in a ragged breath. After the meal,
Mammi
suggested they join hands and offer silent prayers of healing for Brian, wisdom for his doctors, and comfort for his family.

It was only by chance that Sarah had sat next to Paul. When he reached for her hand, she couldn't meet his gaze. She didn't want him to see her tears, to see how vulnerable and raw she felt at the moment. But his hand? It calmed her, somehow settled her world that seemed to have tilted when she saw the boys with blood on their clothes.

Andy reminded Luke and Isaac and Mateo to complete their evening chores. For once they didn't argue. Andy and Henry went to the barn to check on the chickens and Dusty. Sarah and Paul helped
Mammi
with the dishes. When the last plate was dried and put away,
Mammi
said, “Perhaps you'd like to walk Paul out to his tractor. I believe the night air might do you good.”

Sarah didn't argue, but she didn't agree.

How would she ever feel good again? Life was so precarious, and there was nothing she could do to protect those she loved.

But the evening air did help. Though it wasn't yet fully dark, the first stars had begun to prick the night sky.

She looked up and remembered the Scripture from Job, about how God had placed the constellations in the sky. Surely He would show mercy to Brian, would heal him, unless…unless it was his time.

Paul's thoughts seemed to mirror her own. “When someone passes, we say their life is complete. Hard to imagine that's true in Brian's case.”

“Did it seem so awfully bad? Do you think…is there a chance he won't make it?” She'd held back the questions, not wanting to know, not wanting the boys to hear the answer.

Paul shook his head. She could just make out his expression in the fading light. “I'd like to tell you he's going to be fine, but I can't say that with any certainty. His leg was certainly broken in several places, but that alone shouldn't have caused his unconsciousness. I'm not sure…not sure how bad the head injury was.”

“It's a
gut
thing you were there.”

“I wasn't though.” He told her then about seeing Mateo running down the road, how they'd hurried to the phone shack, and then their mad dash back to Brian's side. “I think…I think the biggest danger would be internal bleeding. His blood pressure was low when one paramedic called it out to the other.”

“How do you know about blood pressures?”

“My
mamm
is a midwife.”

“
Ya
?” Sarah had never thought about Paul's family, aside from Rebecca and Joseph. “Tell me about her.”

“She's tough, like
Mammi
. I guess she had to be to raise so many boys.”

“Seven of you?”

“
Ya
.”

“A
gut
-sized Amish family.” Sarah laughed and then regretted it. How could she laugh when Brian was fighting for his life?

“It's all right, you know.” Paul stepped closer, hesitated, and then he reached for her hand. “It's okay to still have moments when you feel happy or when something makes you laugh.”

“It doesn't feel okay.”

“Because you care about him.”

“I guess you know he wasn't raised Amish.”

“Rebecca told me a little.”

“We were all surprised that he stuck with it. I've never known an
Englischer
who became Amish, though you read about such things often enough in romance books.”

“You read romance books?” They were walking toward his tractor, and he nudged her shoulder with his.

“
Nein
. Of course not,” she said in an exaggerated I'm-innocent voice. “I've only heard about them.”

Paul stopped a few feet from his tractor, glanced back at the house, and then reached forward and cupped her face in his hands.

“I could tell how frightened you were when you first saw the boys, when you saw the blood on them.”

Sarah's right arm began to shake. She clasped it to her side with her other hand, but not before Paul noticed.

“Hey. It's all right. The boys are okay.”

Any other time, she might have resisted, but when he pulled her into his arms, the reserve she'd carefully constructed began to crumble.

“What's this about? Isaac and Mateo?”

She nodded, feeling foolish for sobbing all over his shirt—correction, all over Andy's shirt. But for a moment, she stopped fighting the fact that she might actually need someone else. Briefly, she allowed herself to lean on his strength.

He patted her back, mumbled something about how strong the boys were, and attempted to make a joke about how much better
Mammi
's cooking was than his.

“I managed to burn soup last night. Can you imagine?”

She could, and perhaps that was why she pulled away from him, wiped her sleeve across her eyes, and straightened her shoulders.

“Danki.”

“For?”

“For not telling me that Brian would be okay when we don't know yet. For allowing me to fall apart.”

“Sarah, we all need to fall apart occasionally.”

Tears continued to roll down her face, but she pulled in a deep breath and put on her best smile.

“Even you?”

“
Ya
, of course.”

“And when was the last time you cried?”

He tapped his finger against his chin, as if he were deep in thought. Finally, he leaned closer to her and said, “
Old Yeller
. We read
Old Yeller
in class. I pretended I needed to go to the boys' room, sat down on the step, and cried for a good two or three minutes.”

“You did not.”

“
Ya
. Ask my
mamm
. I told her, and she said most everyone cries when they read
Old Yeller
.”

“I did.”

“See?” He stepped closer and used his thumbs to wipe away the last remaining tears. “Get some sleep. We'll know more about Brian's condition tomorrow.”

Sarah was pretty sure she wouldn't sleep, but she did. And before she drifted off, her last thought was of a young boy, sitting outside an outhouse, crying over a fictional story about a dog that didn't even exist.

CHAPTER 67

P
aul went to town first thing the next morning. He had arrived before the store opened, and now he stood at the counter as Rebecca checked to make sure the cash register had enough change for the day's business.