The Saddle Maker's Son (7 page)

“I want to find a way to spend some time with you and the others before we go. So Grace can have a chance to know you. All of you. Her real family.”

“It's not possible.”

“We're not shunned. We've stayed away out of respect.”

“I know, but it would—”

“Hurt too much?”

“Mudder says it's best this way.”

“So you don't become infected with our disease?” Leila's gaze didn't meet Rebekah's. “So you won't do what I did and end up going to hell too?”

That's what Mudder couldn't seem to understand. Rebekah had no desire to leave her community. In fact, she only wanted to stay and be a fraa and mudder.

“I'm sorry.”

Leila could say that a hundred times and it wouldn't make things better. “It's all right. You and Jesse need to go. Do what you have to do.”

“I wish there was something I could do to make it up to you.”

“There is.” She couldn't send Leila away without asking for her help. It was selfish to think of only herself and how it would be easier not to be reminded of all they had lost when Leila and Jesse made their decisions. “There is one thing. I found these two kinner in the shed at the school earlier this week. From El Salvador.”

“You found children in the shed?” Leila took Gracie into her arms and snuggled her against her chest as if thinking what it would be like to have her child off in some distant foreign country. “How did they get there? What did they do? What did
you
do?”

“Convinced them to stay. Bribed them with food.” Rebekah wrapped her arms around her midsection, wishing she had Gracie back for a minute more. “They were starving and dirty and scared.”

“It's good that you were there to help them, then. Others might not have been as kind.”

“We took them in, but Mordecai, Jeremiah, and Will are meditating on what to do with them now. I'm afraid they'll decide to call the sheriff.”

Gracie began to wiggle, her round face wrinkling in a grimace. Leila shushed her and rocked her in her arms in a silent lullaby. “Jesse is working with a coalition of faith-based organizations trying to find homes for as many of the immigrant children as they can. Maybe he can help you place them.”

Leila used many words now that Rebekah didn't understand, but it didn't matter. Jesse had the means to help Diego and Lupe. “Can you take them to your house?”

“Now?”

“They're up at the school.”

“How would you explain their disappearance?”

Rebekah leaned closer to her sister and kissed Grace's cheek. The baby's skin was so soft and warm. Tears threatened to choke her. She breathed. “I would tell the truth. I asked you to help.”

“Then they'll really come down on you. They'll never let you out of the house—”

The
thud-thud
of horse's hooves against packed, sun-hardened dirt made them both spin toward the path.
Gott, please don't let it be Mordecai. Or worse, Jeremiah.

A palomino the color of honey emerged from the stand of live oaks pulling a buggy. Tobias held the reins, his cobalt-blue shirt shimmering in the sun. He pulled up and muttered, “Whoa, whoa.”

The horse slowed, then stopped in a prance that spoke of a desire to head for the open road. Tobias's gaze traveled from Rebekah to Leila and back. “You again.”

Rebekah stepped between her sister and Tobias's buggy. He leaned back in the seat, but every part of him seemed tense and poised for action. She stood straighter and introduced Tobias to Leila. “This is my schweschder. We're just having a quick visit.”

His unrelenting gaze, filled with a mix of curiosity and what seemed like suspicion, studied her. She fought the urge to pat her hair back under her kapp and smooth her wrinkled apron. He moved on to Leila and then the car. “Strange place for visiting.” He shoved his hat back, revealing those green eyes flecked with gold. Eyes that would mesmerize under other circumstances. Now they were cool and brilliant as cut glass in the sun. “Usually people visit in their homes where they can offer their guests a glass of tea or a cup of kaffi. They don't do it on someone else's property on a back road so no one can see them.”

Rebekah crossed her arms. Who cared about his eyes? Not her. Or his opinion. The horse pranced and shimmied to one side, but he handled it with ease. It was no concern of his why she and Leila met here. “What are you doing out here?”

“This is my daed's property. He asked me to stop at the school
on my way home for lunch—something about rattlesnakes.” Tobias glanced at Leila, at the car, and then back at Rebekah, his expression seeming to indicate that he wondered why he was explaining himself. He did have a right to be on his daed's property. “You must be the Leila mentioned at Mordecai's house the other night.”

Her confusion apparent in her face, Leila glanced at Rebekah. “Y'all were talking about me?”

“You and Jesse. About you helping the kinner.” Rebekah sidled closer to Leila. “Mordecai didn't want you involved—”

“Of course he didn't—”

“Why don't you bring your sister up to the house? My sister Martha made biscuits for breakfast.” Tobias's tone wasn't all that inviting despite his offer. “There's honey. Mordecai brought us a batch this morning. Neighborly of him. He didn't mention a visit from a daughter.”

“Leila's not his daughter.” Rebekah wanted to snatch the words back. Mordecai wasn't their father, but he'd been a good stepfather from the day he exchanged vows with Mudder. He didn't deserve disrespect. “We're his stepdaughters. Leila was just leaving. She'll take the car off your daed's property.”

“The proper thing to do would be to welcome a new neighbor.”

He was right, but she couldn't trust a stranger to understand. “Leila has to get back. The baby will be hungry soon, and her husband will be waiting for her.”

“Best they go, then.” Apparently the man excelled at reading between the lines. “I reckon school is back in session after lunches were eaten. Susan must be wondering where you are. Or does she know you're talking to Leila after Jeremiah and the others said not to do it?”

She didn't owe him an explanation. Not at all. “Nee.”

“Welcome to Bee County.” Leila brushed past Rebekah and offered her hand to Tobias. Such an Englisch thing for a woman to do. Tobias's countenance didn't change. He leaned down and grasped her hand in a quick shake. Leila smiled up at him. “Don't blame my sister for any of this. I wanted to . . . see her. It was my idea and it was a bad one. Since I'm here, she told me about the children from El Salvador. Jesse might be able to help. I'll ask him as soon as I get home.”

“I don't think the bishop wants your husband's help.”

“He might decide to put his feelings aside about keeping us separate for the sake of the children.” Leila spoke in a deliberate tone Rebekah hadn't heard from her sister before. Like she knew what she was talking about and had a right to talk. “In the meantime, I hope you can see that it wouldn't do any good to tell the others about our visit until we know more about the options out there for those two little ones.”

“I haven't been in my new district a week and you want me to keep secret a visit you know the bishop would not approve of?” He lifted his hat and settled it on his fine, straight brown hair. “I don't know about you, but where I come from, that's not the way we do things.”

“Rebekah has had a hard row to hoe, and it's my fault. I don't want to make it worse.” Leila's earnest tone seemed to have no effect on Tobias. “Coming here might have been a mistake, but Rebekah's heart is in the right place. We might be able to help two kids who are a long way from home. That's what's really important.”

“Are you shunned?”

“Nee.”

Tobias's gaze lifted to the horizon. He said nothing for
seconds that seemed to last years. “Are you thinking of returning to the fold?”

“No.”

He cocked his head. “Then you should go now.”

Who did he think he was? A stranger telling her sister what to do. Heat rushed to Rebekah's face. Her heart pounded in her throat. She fought off an absurd desire to stamp her foot. “You don't get to tell her what to do—”

“Hush.” Gracie cooed, her arms flailing in the air. Leila hugged her to her chest. “He's right. Give the baby a kiss. I love you. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. All of you.”

Rebekah did as she was told, then straightened. “You'll talk to Jesse?”

“As soon as I get home.”

“You won't leave without looking into it?”

You won't leave me without saying good-bye?

“We'll not go until after the baby is born.”

That time would come too soon. Three months, four at the most. “Write me.”

“I will.”

Three minutes later Leila was gone, one arm stuck through the open window, waving as she drove away into the bright, hot light, leaving Rebekah with empty arms and a heart with a hole the size of the state of Texas. She ducked her head and trudged past the man who sat on his high horse—and buggy—with such judgment. “I better get moving. Susan will be missing me.”

“I'm sorry about your sister.”

The rough compassion in his voice only served to cause the lump in her throat to expand until she found it hard to swallow, let alone speak. Rebekah nodded and kept walking.

“This place sure is dry and dusty.”

Rebekah had no trouble remembering her first impressions of Bee County. His words were kind in comparison. Dirty. Ugly. Not fit for humans. Leaving the only home she'd ever known in Tennessee—lush by comparison—had been the hardest thing she'd ever done. Until now.

“It's not so bad.” She paused and turned back. “You get used to it.”

“I'm not sure I want—”

Caleb came storming through the brush, stumbled over a rock, and fell to his knees. “Rebekah, I've been looking all over for you. Susan is worried.” Her brother righted himself. His bewildered gaze flew from Tobias to Rebekah. “Oh.”

Oh
was right.

For a rutted, sunbaked, dirt back road, this one sure got plenty of traffic. Tobias tugged on the reins and tried to calm Honey. She didn't like surprises, which didn't make her great for buggy pulling on the road. Tobias didn't much like surprises, either. Caleb had the same blue eyes and fair skin as his sisters. Rebekah's cheeks turned strawberry red. She had a beautiful face, high cheekbones, eyes the color of the ocean, dark-brown hair that peeked from under her kapp. Curves filled out her dress nicely.

He shook his head as if he could shake off those thoughts. Embarrassment heated his already warm face even though he hadn't said a word. She'd left her post at the school in the middle of the day to meet a sister who'd left the faith. He should help her see the error of her ways, nothing more.

He cleared his throat. “Anyone else coming? You could have class here, in the great outdoors, if more people show up.”

“You're the one who kept spiking the volleyball the other night. What are you doing out here with my schweschder?” The boy popped to his feet and dusted off his hands on dirty pants. He sidled toward Rebekah, his gaze whipping back and
forth. “Susan sent me to look for you. She was worried when you didn't come in from recess after lunch, what with the rattlesnakes and all—”

“Whoa, whoa.” Rebekah held up her hands as if to stem the flow of words. “I'm right here. I took a walk and lost track of time and I ran into Tobias. He's on his way to the school to check if the snakes have regrouped at the outhouse.”

Her gaze begged him to let it go. He shook his head. He wouldn't be party to a lie, not even to a young boy. It was wrong. “I was cutting across to reach the school quicker. I need to get home for lunch and back to the shop. I heard a car.”

Let her explain the car. She still had a chance to redeem herself.

“A car. Out here?” Caleb patted Honey's forehead. “This horse is a beaut. A palomino, right? We have to get back before Susan sends out a whole posse to look for us.”

Rebekah remained silent, her face miserable. How could someone look so sad and yet so beautiful? It didn't matter. A woman bent on breaking the rules of the Ordnung could not be considered fraa material.

What a hypocrite he was. If she only knew.

Tobias drew back from that white-hot, throbbing place where the memory of Serena resided, careful not to touch it directly. With time, perhaps, but for now, even the periphery of the memory hurt too much.

Daed insisted the move here would erase those feelings.

Feelings for a woman unsuitable for a Plain man.

He'd come to Bee County, Texas, half a country away from his heartache, so he could do just that. He had to establish himself here. Set up the leather shop, get some customers, start
working on the custom-made saddles. Three weeks of intensive work to make one saddle. That would keep his mind and his heart occupied until he could trust himself to risk his heart again. It wouldn't be to a woman who broke the rules.

That didn't mean he couldn't be kind. “I'm headed to the school, anyway. Let me give you a ride.” He scooted to one side in the buggy. “There's room and it'll be faster than walking.”

She shook her head, her brilliant blue eyes cold as snow on a winter day up north. She most likely debated how much he would tell Susan. “We'll walk. It's not that far.”

“Get in. We're headed the same direction.”

If she shook her head any harder, her kapp would fall off. He wouldn't mind seeing the rest of her chestnut hair.
Behave.

“We don't need a ride. We're fine.”

“Nee, schweschder. I'm missing the spelling test.” Caleb ended the disagreement by climbing into the buggy without so much as a by-your-leave. “Because of you. Let's go. I don't want to stay after school to finish. Susan will make me, you know she will.”

Rebekah paused, hands on her hips, her expression grim. “Fine.” She climbed into the buggy but squeezed herself against the far edge of the seat. “Can you hurry? I'm supposed to be helping the little ones with their numbers.”

It was silent for several minutes as the buggy shook and shimmied over thick ridges and ruts in the road. Tobias glanced at her from the corners of his eyes. She seemed to be studying the ruts, her full lips turned down in a pout. “So what did your sister say about helping Lupe and Diego?”

“You saw Leila?” Caleb's voice shot up an octave and then back down in the typical boy-on-the-edge-of-growing-into-a-teenager way. “She was here? Did she bring the baby? What did she—?”

Rebekah's hand shot up in a stop position. Her glare, like a spotlight on a dark night, spoke volumes. “Jah, I saw her.” Her voice quivered and broke. She turned in her seat so Tobias mostly saw her back and shoulders. A hard sniff followed. “She'll ask Jesse what he thinks.”

“Why are you crying?” Caleb raised one hand as if to pat his sister's back. The hand dropped. Probably afraid she'd bite it off if he got too close. “That's good, right? We want them to stay, don't we?”

“I'm not crying. I never cry.” She pivoted on the seat again. Her eyes were red but her mouth set. “I asked about them because they're only children and they're in a strange land and they have no one to help them.”

They had no one to protect them. All children should have protectors. “Agreed.”

“But . . .” Her mouth dropped open. She didn't appear to have a single filling in her even, white teeth. “You agree.”

He shrugged. “Jah, but it doesn't matter. It's not up to you or me. It's up to the bishop and he told you not to talk to Leila and Jesse. You disobeyed. What's more, you know it. You have guilt written across your forehead in big red letters.”

Caleb inched closer to his sister. “She probably meant well. That's what Mudder says. Rebekah always means well.”

A good
bruder
, this boy, who defended his sister. Still, it was all well and good to agree with Rebekah regarding those poor kinner, but a person still had to do the right thing. Going against the bishop's wishes—and her stepfather's wishes—would only result in difficulties for Rebekah. Tobias had had enough of that sort of thing back in Ohio.

Silence reigned for the remaining few minutes it took to
reach the school. Susan stuck her head out the door as he pulled the buggy to a stop by the front steps. “There you are. I was about to organize a search party.” She lifted her hand to her forehead and squinted against the sun. “Tobias, what are you doing here? Your little schweschders and bruders are doing fine.”

“Daed wanted me to make sure no more rattlers are hanging around here.” Tobias hopped from the buggy. He glanced back at Rebekah. She didn't move to get down. As much as he knew it was the right thing to do, he found himself hesitating. She looked so penitent. “I came upon Rebekah here visiting with her sister Leila out by the road on the back side of our property. Then Caleb showed up looking for Rebekah.”

The smile slid from Susan's face. She sighed. “Danki for bringing them back. I would've made them walk, myself.”

“What with the snakes and all, I wanted to see how the little ones have settled in.” He glanced at Rebekah. Her gaze was glued to the ground as if she found sticks and stones fascinating. “Daed will want to know that his kinner are behaving and that they're in good hands.”

“Much better than some folks around here.” Susan's frown deepened. “Rest in the assurance that what you saw today is not the norm around here. We follow the Ordnung. Please let your daed know.”

Rebekah's face was stained beet red. She raised her head and met his gaze head-on. Something there told him she would offer no apology for her actions. So be it.

“I will. He's very careful, what with my mudder having passed six years ago. He feels a lot of responsibility.” Just as Tobias did. Every minute of every day. “He wants what's best for Lupe and Diego as well.”

A course of action to be decided by Jeremiah, Mordecai, and Will. Not a girl who decided to interfere even after she'd been specifically told not to do so.

“Come on up and have a peek.” Susan cocked her head toward the door. “The little ones are doing addition and subtraction right now.”

Rebekah slipped past him without a backward glance. He quelled the urge to say he was sorry. He'd done what he had to do. Still, he was certain at least one person would not be happy to see him at the school.

Or anywhere else.