Sarah's Orphans (40 page)

Whenever I'm afraid, I will trust in You.

Sarah didn't know if she could do that, but she knew that for the sake of her family, for her own sake, she needed to try.

CHAPTER 72

F
or Mateo the summer flew by.

In June he helped with the harvest of the early crops that had been planted when he'd first come to Cody's Creek.

July was spent helping with Sarah's garden, fishing in Paul's creek, and caring for the pigs.

Mateo felt as if he were living in a dream. He no longer worried about Mia—Sarah and
Mammi
took care of his little sister. She was growing faster than the beans in Sarah's garden, though she still asked a dozen questions a day. Her hiding had become less frequent, and her laughter was a common sound in their home.

Their home—he dared to hope that this was permanent, that Sarah and Andy and Henry and Luke and Isaac were his family, that
Mammi
would be there for him always, and that the nightmare of his past was over.

The first week of August, Tommy drove down their lane. Mateo and Isaac were beside the barn, working on a design for a larger, better chicken coop. Their flock had grown, and they also wanted to weatherproof it for winter, which Isaac assured him was quite cold. Mateo didn't bother telling him that he knew how cold Oklahoma's winter was; he'd spent part of it in an abandoned trailer. Those were memories he'd rather not dwell on. As Bishop Levi had said at Sunday service, “Best to leave the past behind you. No need dragging it along.”

When they saw Tommy's car kicking up a cloud of dirt as it came down their lane, both stood, dusted off their hands, and exchanged a questioning look.

“Maybe it's only a house check again.”

“
Ya
. Could be he wants to see that I haven't been eaten by a goat.”

“Or trampled by one of the pigs.”

“Or lost in a cornfield.”

“Life on a farm is full of dangers.”

They high-fived and then jogged over to meet the social worker. Tommy stepped out of his car as Sarah came out the front door of the house.

“Morning,” Tommy said. He was carrying a box of donuts.

“Come on in.
Mammi
just made a fresh pot of coffee.”

“
Ach
. I'll take milk,” Isaac said.

Mia came running to greet Tommy. “See my baby?”

She held up a Plain doll that Sarah had finished sewing the day before. “She's like me. Same dress. Same
kapp
.”

They sat around the table and enjoyed the donuts and milk and for the grown-ups—coffee. Once he'd finished off two of the chocolate cake donuts, Tommy got down to the reason for his visit.

“We have a little more information on Elisa that I wanted to share with all of you.”

Mateo liked that he was included in these meetings, and though the older brothers weren't always present, Isaac was with him every time. But then they did nearly everything together, so it would have seemed strange if he wasn't there.

“What kind of information?” Sarah asked.

“She checked into a homeless shelter in Oklahoma City. She only stayed a few days, but it was long enough for them to do a few assessments.”

“Assessments?”

Tommy opened a folder and shuffled through the papers. He pulled out one that looked like a form of sorts. “According to the doctor and counselor at Rachel's House, Elisa was brought to them by a police officer who found her sleeping in a public park. The doctor who makes regular visits to the shelter did a workup on Elisa.”

Folding his arms, Tommy looked from Mateo to Sarah and back to Mateo again. “It appears that Elisa suffers from Alcohol Use Disorder.”

“I've never heard of that.” Sarah helped Mia into her lap. Mia proceeded to try to feed a piece of donut to her doll, oblivious to their discussion.

“It means Elisa has no tolerance at all for alcohol. If she has one drink, she's gone. People with Alcohol Use Disorder will often only remember that one drink. They might come to a day or a week later, and they often have no recollection of the time that has passed or what occurred. They're completely unable to control themselves once they start drinking.”

“Is there any…treatment?”
Mammi
asked.

“Those diagnosed with Alcohol Use Disorder are sometimes encouraged to take Naltrexone, a drug that makes a person sick if they drink even the smallest amount of alcohol. It's not a cure, but it helps them while they're learning coping strategies.”

“So Elisa is receiving this treatment?” Sarah brushed at the crumbs on Mia's mouth. Mia took the napkin out of her hand and proceeded to wipe sugar frosting from her doll.

Mateo was wishing he hadn't eaten two of the donuts. The sugar, or the conversation, was making him feel a bit sick to his stomach.

“No. The treatment plan was explained to her. According to the counselor's notes, she seemed agreeable to taking the medication, but the next morning she left the shelter and didn't return. This was last week, and no one has heard from her since.”

There was silence around the table. Finally, Isaac asked, “What does this have to do with us? You wouldn't…wouldn't send Mateo and Mia back to…to someone like that. Would you?”

Tommy smiled reassuringly at him. “No, Isaac. You don't have to worry about that at all. This only confirms that Elisa isn't able to provide a safe home at this time. If and when she were to receive treatment, we could talk about monitored visitation, but Mateo and Mia would have some say in that.” He directed his next comment to Mateo. “No one is going to force you to do anything that you're not comfortable with.”

He stared at his empty plate as he digested what Tommy had said. Then he raised his eyes and looked around the table.

Isaac looked almost angry. He liked things to go as they were planned to go, and he had big plans for the fall—their chicken coop, school, more pigs next year.

Sarah was studying him. She'd looked less worried the last few weeks, and Mateo sometimes caught her pulling a small card out of her pocket and studying it.

Mia was oblivious.

And
Mammi
? She was watching him with a look of compassion. They had spoken several times about his mother, and each time
Mammi
had encouraged him to pray for her.

“I think I always knew my mom was sick. I guess that means what happened…that it's not completely her fault. And I might want to see her again one day…if she couldn't make me leave.”

“Trust me, Mateo. That's not going to happen again.”

“Because I want to stay here as long as Sarah will let me. I might feel bad about…about my mom.” Tears stung his eyes, and he blinked them away. “But this is my home.”

Tommy nodded, and then he pulled out another stack of papers. “Then I assume you want to move forward with the item we discussed last time I was here?”

Mateo knew what that meant. They had all talked about it again at a family meeting earlier in the week.

“I do,” he said.

Sarah glanced at
Mammi
, at him and Isaac, and finally down at Mia. When she looked up, a smile covered her face, and it seemed to Mateo that it even reached her eyes.

She squeezed his hand. “
Ya
, we surely do.”

“Great. I have some papers for you to sign.”

CHAPTER 73

S
arah sat outside the courtroom, glancing up and down the bench, and marveling at how much her life had changed in six short months.

The last time she'd stepped into this corridor, she had been alone, afraid, and almost at her wit's end. Looking back, she could see that she had taken the children because she'd felt immense pity for them hiding there in that abandoned trailer. Her sense of duty, or moral obligation, had propelled her through those first few weeks. But now?

Now she had learned to love them as if they were her own kin. They were as much a part of her family as
Mammi
. She wasn't the only one who cared for Mateo and Mia, who were sitting next to her on the bench. Andy, Henry, Luke, and Isaac had all insisted on coming to the hearing.

When she'd suggested that it wasn't necessary, Henry had said, “We're family,
ya
? Family stays together.” And he'd brought his hands together until one palm clasped another and his fingers were intertwined.

That had brought back the memory of
Mammi
in their home, that first evening. So it was settled. They would all travel to Tulsa for the six-month hearing, even
Mammi
, who was at that very moment walking down the line handing out pieces of chocolate. It was a wonder they didn't all have a mouth full of cavities.

She nearly laughed when the bishop accepted a piece, walked over to the trash can, and spit out his chewing gum. Even he was susceptible to
Mammi
's endearing ways. Mary Beth had come as well—both she and Levi had insisted that they wanted to be there as a character reference in case the judge needed one.

The only person missing from that first court appearance was Paul. He'd offered to come along, but Sarah knew that his hands were full with work on the farm. She'd politely told him it wouldn't be necessary. Although he'd seemed disappointed, he had nodded and told her he would be praying for good results. It seemed that he had wanted to say something else, but in the end, he'd squeezed her hand and walked away.

Sarah wasn't ready to examine her feelings for him. Life was complicated enough. Perhaps when things were settled with the children.

Chloe appeared at the top of the stairs and hurried toward her. “Am I late?”

“
Nein
. The judge had one case before ours, and it's taking a bit longer than they thought it would.”

The boys squished together so that Chloe could sit beside Sarah.

“Thank you for allowing me to come.”

“Of course. You've been with us since the beginning.”

“Any more letters criticizing you for taking in Mateo and Mia?”

“Only a few. The columns you published on adoption needs seem to have helped.”

“I'm still receiving a lot of correspondence on that. Some days I wonder how people could not know the need existed, that there are plenty of children to go around.” She pushed back her dark curls. “But then I didn't realize either—not until I received Becca's call about your situation. I guess some needs in our community just become invisible.”

“Perhaps we don't see what makes us uncomfortable.”

Chloe studied her a moment and then smiled brightly. “I think you might be right. You're a wise woman, Sarah Yoder.”

And that made Sarah laugh, because most days she was fortunate not to feel lost in a sea of questions.

When they were called into the courtroom, everyone filed in with only a minimal amount of jostling and wisecracks.

Judge Murphy was already at the bench, signing sheets of paper. She glanced up when they had all settled into the first row. Smiling, she removed her glasses, folded her hands on the desktop, and peered down at them. “Well, our group has grown since last time. Perhaps you all would be so good as to tell me your names and who you are.”

“Andy, and I'm the big
bruder
.”

“Henry, second biggest.”

“Luke. I guess I'm the middle kid—sort of.”

“Isaac. I was the youngest, but now I'm not.” There was no mistaking the pride in his voice.

“Mateo, but you know that.”

Mia bounced in Sarah's lap. “I'm Mia, and this is Sally.” She held up her doll and everyone laughed.

“I'm Sarah, the oldest.”

“And I'm Fannie Yoder, but everyone calls me
Mammi
. And that suits me fine.”

Sarah felt such pride in her family at that moment that it seemed as if her heart actually swelled to fill up her chest.

“Mr. and Mrs. Troyer. Still shepherding the flock?”

“We do our best.”

“And I believe you're Chloe Vasquez.”

“Yes, Judge.”

“I recognized you from the picture in your news column. I've appreciated your recent articles on the need for more foster parents, and I'm happy to inform you that my courtroom has become a bit busier since you so thoroughly examined the topic.”

“I'm glad to hear it.”

The judge put her glasses back on, indicating it was time to get down to business. Tommy reported on his home visits, Mateo's progress in school, Mia's development, and ended with his recommendation that the children remain in the Yoder home.

So far the hearing had gone as he'd assured her it would. But now came the part that he wasn't so sure about. They had spoken of it before he'd left their home on his last visit.