Love Inspired June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: The Cowboy's Homecoming\The Amish Widow's Secret\Safe in the Fireman's Arms (26 page)

Not wanting to think about it anymore, she changed the subject. “Mose says his community is strict, but not old-fashioned. Gas and electric lights are allowed in the houses there and some carry cell phones for their businesses. I'm extra thrilled because I've heard women can own sewing machines, and you know I want one so bad.”

“That's the brightest light I've seen in your eyes in a long time. I'm so excited for you. Who knows? Maybe Eric and I will head south and someday you'll find us on your doorstep.”

Sarah laughed. It felt good to feel joy. “It would be wonderful if you did, but Eric will never leave his
daed
.”

Sounds of the screen door slamming shut brought Marta to her feet. “You'll be needed in the great room. I have a feeling Beatrice is holding her breath until you get there.

“You're probably right.” Sarah hurried down the stairs, toward the sounds of a giggling child.

“Sarah, come see,” Beatrice called out just as Sarah walked past the front door and into the great room. Mose stood in the middle of the room, a huge bouquet of beautiful wildflowers in his hands.

“For my bride,” Mose said.

Sarah wilted to the floor in a faint.

Chapter Six

“S
he's coming round.” Marta sounded so far away.

Wisps of fog swirled and blurred Sarah's vision. Confusion rattled her thoughts, making her stomach clench with fear.
Where was she? What had happened?
She reached out a hand. She was lying on the braided rug she'd made months ago.

Something touched the side of her face. She opened her eyes and a man's face came into focus. Mose. He leaned over her, his brow knitted close together.

“Sarah, are you all right?”

She lifted her head and stared into his sky-blue gaze. Mose made her feel safe again. “Yes, I'm fine.” But she wasn't. Dizzy spells had plagued her for days.

“She's been looking pale, Mose. She must be completely stressed out, and she's not eating regularly.” Marta spoke from somewhere behind Mose.

He pushed a lock of hair back from her forehead. “Do you hurt anywhere?”

“
Nee
. I don't think so.” Mustering all her strength she leaned on her arm and made an effort to get up, still muddle-brained.

Mose slipped his arm around her waist and eased her into a sitting position. “Don't move. Not until we know you're okay. You might have broken something when you fell.”

“I'm fine. I don't feel dizzy. Everything just went a bit hazy for a moment, that's all. My stomach's been upset. It's stress, no doubt.” Mose had shocked her, his tall frame standing in the great room, his hands full of wildflowers. For a moment he'd looked so much like Joseph.

Mose took the glass of water Marta handed him and placed it against Sarah's lips. “Drink this. It'll make you feel better.”

She sipped and then quickly drank down the whole glass.

“You need to sit for a while until the dizziness passes.” Mose put his hand on her shoulder. “When was the last time you had a proper meal?”

“I think it was yesterday, but I can't be sure. So much has been going on.”

“You've been through a lot. It's no wonder you fainted.”

“I'm fine now, Mose. Really.” Determination had her pushing up off the floor with Mose's help. Sarah stood and found her footing.

Mose helped her into a chair. “I think a meal is in order, don't you?”

Sarah nodded and glanced around the room. Wildflowers lay strewn across the wide-plank wood floor. Forgotten, Beatrice stood ankle deep in the pile of stems and blooms, her tiny black shoes peeking out. She seemed frozen in time, her face a mask of horror, eyes wide. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks. Sarah made eye contact and Beatrice flew across the room, into her waiting arms, her eyes still rounded with fear. She leaned in and rested her head on Sarah's shoulder. Beatrice's hand patted her softly. In a rhythmic tattoo, she whispered, “You won't die. You'll be all better.
Gott
has made you my new
mamm
.”

Marta hovered close. “Why don't I go get you something to eat from the meal outside? It will only take a minute.”

Mose spoke before Sarah could respond. “That sounds like a good idea. Beatrice, why don't you go with Marta and make sure she gets Sarah some of her favorite sour pickles. You know how they help sick stomachs.”

Pried out of Sarah's arms and led to the kitchen, the little girl shouted over Marta's shoulder, “
Nee
! Sarah needs me.”

Sarah took in a deep breath and found a smile. “I'd love a plate of hot food, but only if you fix it for me.” The child grinned as Marta carried her away.

“You looked like you needed a moment to regain your composure.” Mose smiled, one tiny dimple showing in his right cheek.

“I did.” Sarah nervously rubbed the soft fabric covering the padded chair. “It was the oddest thing, Mose. One minute I was fine, the next I was falling flat on my face. But I feel fine now, like nothing happened.”

“You can't skip meals and expect to remain healthy. You have two small
kinder
depending on you now, and we have a long trip ahead of us. The girls can run healthy women into the ground.” He laughed, a twinkle in his eye.

“I know. I don't know what I was thinking. It was very foolish of me.”

Mose bent on one knee in front of her. “
Nee
, not even the strongest person can experience the tragedies you've gone through and come out unscathed. Together we'll work our way through this.”

“But your reputation will be sullied by our quick marriage.”

“You're not to fret. I'm your husband now. You're my wife and the mother of my
kinder
. I will always be here for you. Joseph would have wanted it this way. I feel honored to have you as my wife.” He smiled so tenderly Sarah almost broke down. Her lip quivered as she took the rough hand he held out to her. She grasped it, their fingers entwined. Time stopped and Sarah's heart beat a bit faster. “Nothing will come between us.” Mose promised. “You'll see.”

* * *

Sarah looked completely over her illness after eating, but he could sense her nervousness. Mose knew Sarah had never been in an automobile, much less on a train. The black machine had to appear imposing and impossibly large to her. She might be frightened and rethinking the wisdom of going to Florida inside such a massive contraption. At least the
kinder
had experienced the train ride up to Lancaster County and seemed calm and ready for travel.

He was glad the tiny wedding party had piled into Eric's old hay wagon and the few well-wishers had been able to wave them off just blocks from the train station.

“How much time do we have, Mose?” Sarah's white-knuckled grasp on her suitcase showed she was frightened.

“We'll be boarding in a few minutes. You have time to say your goodbyes.” He held Beatrice tight by one hand. Mercy was cradled in a warm blanket in his other arm. He watched as Sarah wrapped her arms first around Marta and then Eric. She clung to her brother for a moment, her tears flowing freely. He saw her whisper something to Marta, which made them both laugh.

“
Ya
, we will be coming to see you. Maybe in the fall, I think. When life has settled down after harvest.” Marta grabbed Sarah close once more. Eric joined the hug and the three stood as one, whispering words of love to each other.

Mose shifted the baby to his shoulder. “I hate to tell you, but the train will be leaving soon. We should get settled.”

Sarah broke away and scooped Mercy out of Mose's arms, allowing Beatrice to grab hold of her skirt. The two men hugged. “
Gott
be with you and keep you. Make my sister happy and bring her peace or I'll come find you,” Eric said with a smile.

Mose's big palm slapped Eric on the back. “May
Gott
bring a
bobbel
into your household. May he prosper you and bring you joy.”

Marta and Sarah laughed as the two grown men shed tears, their own eyes red and glistening.

Mose set down his case, then added Sarah's smaller valise, which weighed next to nothing in his hand.

Eric gave one last hug to his sister and then looked straight into her eyes. “We are brother and sister. We will always be connected by blood. If you need me, you know where I am. You are a wonderful sister. I was lucky to have you close by my side.”

Sarah's face grew red, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. “You are my blessed brother.”

Beatrice pulled at Sarah's skirt. “Hurry, Sarah. We don't want to miss the train.”

Mose saw Sarah smile sweetly at his daughter.

“Yes,
liebling
. Our new life awaits us.”

* * *

“I'm tired,
Daed
. Hold me,” Beatrice whined, reaching her arms out to Mose for comfort.

“Would you hold Mercy while I see to Beatrice?” Mose offered the baby up to Sarah.

“The poor
liebling
is one tired little girl.” Sarah took Mercy and cuddled the baby's small, warm body close to her own quick-beating heart and breathed in the sweet smell of her neck. The child stirred and Sarah adjusted her blanket, covering her cold legs. Sarah cooed in the baby's ear, comforting her with a rhythmic backrub until the child slept. She'd been taking care of Mose's
kinder
only a short time but already the weight of the baby in her arms seemed perfectly normal, as if she'd been the child's mother since birth.

Mose shifted an already sleeping Beatrice to his shoulder. “I think we board the train down this way.”

Sarah hurried past a young
Englisch
couple and saw them exchange a look. She'd seen that glance before. She was too tired to give it more than a passing thought. Moving about in the
Englisch
world always brought out the worst in her. She hated feeling odd, like she was a freak show put on just for them. Their clothes were odd to her, too. She gave a disapproving glare to the woman's short denim skirt that showed off more of her legs than Sarah deemed respectful. Had Mose averted his eyes as this woman passed, or had he admired the beauty of her youthful body?

With nervous fingers she set her
kapp
on straight and determined to ignore the looks and laughter coming from the
Englisch
couple. She patted Mercy on the back, her walk brisk, her gaze on Mose's strong back just inches away.

Mose slowed, ushering her toward a door on the side of the train. The immense size of the metal monster gave her pause and she stopped for a second, her fear so great she considered running in the opposite direction. Then she stepped up into the train, and her fear gave way to determination. She would make a fresh start with Mose and the
kinder
. No matter what.

* * *

They switched trains in Philadelphia taking one heading south. To their delight, both
kinder
fell asleep before lunch. An hour later Mose opened one eye and watched as Beatrice tried to climb over his body without waking him. “Where do you think you're going, young lady?”

“I'm going with Sarah and Mercy,” she said in a sleepy voice, her small fists rubbing sleep from her eyes.

The seat next to him was empty and the diaper bag gone. “I have a feeling your sister needed a change of clothes and a fresh diaper. Sarah will be right back, if you wait just a moment.”

Beatrice bounced up and down on the empty seat. She frowned at him. “I have to go to the bathroom.” She began to grimace, a look of strain on her face. Mose lost no time grabbing her up and hurrying her down to the nearest ladies' room. He knocked once and then knocked again. Beatrice's squirms became wild and insistent.

Mose knocked again on the bathroom door. “Sarah. I know you're busy in there with Mercy, but Beatrice seems to be in a real hurry. Do you think you could...?”

The door slid open just a crack and a clear-eyed Sarah greeted him with a shy smile. “Come in, Beatrice,” she said, but only opened the door wide enough for the child to slip through. Mercy smiled at her father, her naked little body squirming in Sarah's arms. “We had a bit of a wet diaper situation and her bottle didn't stay down, but she seems fine now.”

“Why don't I wait here for Beatrice? You can send her out to me when she's finished.”

It struck Mose how formal they still were with each other. Almost strangers...but then, they
were
strangers...married strangers. Time would take care of the formality between them over the
kinder
, but what about their relationship? Hadn't he noticed signs of genuine regard from Sarah already? They were growing closer and one day might fall in love.

Sarah was a spirited woman, the type of person he could be drawn to in a powerful way, like he had been with Greta. Would Sarah ever get over her guilt, the love she felt for her dead husband? He wanted to care for this woman standing just inches away. She deserved love. Would
Gott
bless their marriage?
Gott's
will be done.

Chapter Seven

S
arah stood behind Mose as he approached the dining car and pulled open the heavy door.
Englisch
filled the plush car. Their lively chatter and robust laughter engulfed the narrow hall where she waited. Her experience with mealtime had always been one of quiet conversation and hadn't prepared her for such loud volume or casual interaction.

Glancing around, all the booths looked full. There was only one empty booth located at the back of the car. The thought of walking past more staring, inquisitive eyes didn't appeal to Sarah, but she had two hungry
kinder
to feed. Mercy wailed for her bottle and almost wiggled off Sarah's hip. She resigned herself and endured the curious glances. Head down, she moved forward.

Mercy squirmed hard and Sarah almost dropped her. She had to get used to the small child's strength. She clasped her hands behind the little girl's back and held on. She'd get the hang of carrying an energetic baby. It would take just a short time.

Mose led the way down the narrow corridor between the tables. Sarah watched as, like Beatrice, he greeted each person who turned his way. His demeanor was calm and at ease. Sarah envied him. She wished she could accept the stares as easily, but he had more exposure to the
Englisch
. Perhaps time in a less strict community would teach her to be less formal, too.

Beatrice claimed the bench seat nearest the window and pressed her nose against the huge glass pane. Mose scooted in beside her. Sarah slid into the bench seat across from him, placing Mercy on her lap.

“What would you like to eat, Beatrice?” Mose moved aside the crayons lying on a colorful sheet of paper and glanced through the small children's menu placed on the table. “They have burgers, hot dogs and pancakes.”

“Pancakes!” The child's voice rang loudly through the dining car. Several people close by laughed at her excited response.

“Pancakes, it is. And you, Mercy? What does
Daed's
little girl want?” The look of love sparkled in his blue eyes as he gazed at his younger daughter and spoke louder.

Mercy continued to play with the rag doll in her hands, her head down, her blond curls short and shiny. Had she not heard her
daed's
question? Sarah touched the child's shoulder and watched as she turned her head and glanced up, her eyes questioning. “Would you like pancakes, too?” Sarah asked with a grin.

Mercy smiled at her and went back to playing with her doll. Sarah looked at Mose. His forehead creased in a troubled expression.

“Does she talk at all, Mose?” Sarah waited for him to say something positive about her limited vocabulary and attention span.

He laid the menu down and sighed. “
Nee
, she doesn't talk, but my mother says that's nothing to worry about. Her words will come. Some
bobbel
are just late bloomers, and Mercy seems to be one of them.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a tall, lean, uniformed waiter carrying a tray of short glasses filled with ice water. He looked at them with obvious curiosity and lifted his pad, ready to take their order. “What can I get you folks?”

“My
frau
and I just sat down, but I think we're ready to order.” The word
frau
slipped off Mose's tongue with ease, as if he'd been calling her his wife for years. A knot formed in Sarah's throat.
Frau
...she liked the sound of it.

Sarah ordered dry toast, hoping to squelch the remaining effects of the virus she'd been dealing with. She sipped from the glass of cold water in front of her.

Mose ordered fried chicken and mashed potatoes, and confessed with a little boy's grin, “I'd eat it every day of my life if I could. No sense changing habits now.” He smiled, his deep dimple showed, making him look younger than she knew him to be. For the first time she realized how handsome he was. Heat flushed her face and her heart fluttered.

The sudden sound of a loaded tray of food hitting the floor startled them. Beatrice began to cry. Mose collected her in his arms and patted the child's back. “It's okay. Someone just dropped some plates. All is well, my rose.”

Sarah looked at Mercy and was amazed to find the child fast asleep, her breathing soft and regular. Her finger caressed the lovely child's velvety cheek and watched as she stirred. Fear clenched Sarah's stomach. Mercy should have been awakened by all the noise.

She glanced over at Mose as he shoveled one of Mercy's crackers into his mouth. She started to say something about Mercy's lack of reaction, but decided she'd best bring up her concerns when Beatrice wasn't around to hear.

Sarah realized there had been one other time Mercy had failed to react to loud noises on the train. How many times had the child's lack of reaction gone unnoticed?
Gott, don't let this child be deaf.
Could it be possible the child had hearing problems? How should she approach her concerns with Mose without sounding like an inexperienced mother?

“You look very serious.” Mose wiped his mouth with the bright red cloth napkin.

“I'm new at being a mother and worry over everything. We'll talk about it when the
kinder
are asleep.”

Hour after hour the train rolled on. Beatrice fought her nap with the stubbornness and energy only a four-year-old could maintain. Mose walked the child to the end of the corridor and spoke to her firmly, but the talk did nothing to dispel the sour mood, or the loud crying that erupted from her.

“Any suggestions,” Mose asked after a half hour of the child's wailing. A deep frown revealed how upset he was. Being a single parent had to have been hard on him. He had been very fortunate to have his mother's help.

“Perhaps she's too old for naps now,” Sarah suggested. She rubbed Beatrice's back and got a bad tempered kick in the leg from the child for her efforts.

“Beatrice Fischer. You will be kind to your
mamm
. There is no need for violence.” Mose's tone was quiet, but firm with frustration. Several people turned to stare at Beatrice.

“I will
not
go to sleep. I'm not tired and I want my real
mamm
to pat my back, but she's with
Gott
.
Grandmammi
Ulla says I'm not to ask for her, but I want her.” Fresh tears began to pour down her already mottled face. “I wish I was with her. I hate you,” Beatrice shouted, then twisted around and buried her face in her small pillow, sobbing in earnest.

Mose began to rise but Sarah stopped him. “
Nee
, please don't scold her again. What she says is true. I'm not her real mother. She's confused by her feelings. She needs time to adjust. She's just tired and cranky from the long train ride. She'll be asleep any moment now and everything will be okay.”

* * *

Beatrice curled herself into a small ball on the train's bench seat, snuggled close to her sister and together the two girls hugged. Mose watched Sarah's expression and saw love sparkle in her eyes as she soothed his eldest daughter.
Kinder
could be so hurtful without realizing the gravity of their cruel words.

Beatrice finally ran out of steam and grew quiet. He reached over and took Sarah's small, soft hand in his and smiled, wishing this emotionally frail woman knew what a gift she was to him. A mother for his
kinder
, someone who'd love them no matter what. To him she was lovely and priceless. He squeezed her fingers and smiled. “I'm sorry. I know her words must have hurt.”

“She'll come around. You'll see.” Sarah squeezed his hand. “There are times I'd like to stamp my foot and cry myself,” she confessed.

“You must be tired.” Mose hadn't missed Sarah's yawn or the way she pulled her hand away and tucked it under the fullness of her skirt. He had to remember she was still a widow grieving for her dead husband. Sarah had only been mourning Joseph for six months. Not nearly long enough to welcome him into her heart. What a fool he was.

“I didn't know you worked in the school back in Lancaster.” He lightened the mood with his chatter and watched her facial expression relax.

“Yes, I did, but only for a short while. We had an abundance of trainable girls, and I took my turn when it came. Naturally I failed miserably as a teacher. I just wasn't the right material for such a job. I turned to quilt-making instead. I love to sew.”

“My wife is—” He stopped himself, and his smile disappeared.

“Please, go on. I want you to feel free to talk about your wife.” Sarah's smile looked genuine.

“
Danke
. I appreciate your understanding. Sometimes her name just slips out. It's almost as if she's still alive in Florida and waiting for me to come home.”

“I understand. I often wake and think Joseph is out in the fields...until I remember he's dead.”

“His death was so sudden. There was no warning,
no illness to give you time to prepare.” Mose lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his curls.

“And so final. I still find it hard to believe he's dead, even though I know he is. There was no body to see. Joseph was always careful with the gas lights. I was the one he said would burn the house down some day with my carelessness.” One lone tear slid down her cheek.

He leaned toward her. “You're a good woman, Sarah Fischer. Without you I'd be a lonely man heading back to an empty home. I don't believe for a moment you caused Joseph's death.”

* * *

Moments later, the aroma of coffee moved closer to their table. A wave of nausea washed over Sarah. She fought hard to hold down her meal but knew she had to make a run to the bathroom or throw up on one of the sleeping
kinder
. “I'll be right back.” She sailed past Mose and quickly maneuvered around arriving diners.

The door to the bathroom was unlocked. She burst in, her hand to her mouth, frantically looking for an open toilet door. She got as far as the row of shiny sinks and lost all hope.

A female voice said, “Oh, you poor girl. Let me get a cold compress for your neck. That always helped me when I was pregnant.”

Sarah looked into the mirror and watched as a stout
Englisch
woman of about sixty wet down the fluffy white washcloth she'd jerked from her makeup bag. “I'm fine, really. I'm not pregnant. I'm fine.”

“Nonsense. You're not fine at all. Let me at least put the cloth on your neck. It's a trick my dear ol' mama taught me as a child.” The older woman's gaze locked with Sarah's in the mirror. She approached and gently laid the cold cloth across Sarah's heated neck. Relief was instantaneous and much needed. A few moments of deep breathing and Sarah began to feel better.

“How far along are you?” the woman asked as she washed her hands.

Sarah froze.
She thinks I'm pregnant?
What foolishness. There was no way she could be pregnant. Joseph died almost six months ago. She would have known before this if she was pregnant.
Wouldn't she?

The woman sat down on a short bench against the wall and continued to smile at Sarah. “I assume this baby is a wanted child.”

For the first time, Sarah allowed herself to think about what it would mean to be carrying Joseph's child. She'd have a part of him she could treasure forever. Joy shot through her and she began to count her skipped periods, the ones she'd thought stress had caused her to miss. It had been over five months since her last one. She lifted her head and smiled back at the woman through the mirror. “If I am pregnant, he or she would be a gift from
Gott
.”

“I have three gifts from God and one is driving me nuts right now, but he's still my little boy at thirty-nine.”

Sarah moved to a clean sink, and then wiped her pale face.

How would she explain to Mose she might have to see a midwife? Her mind had been so preoccupied with Joseph's loss, the missed cycles hadn't worried her. Dealing with her father's demands about selling the farm after Joseph's death had kept her out of sorts and in a flux of grief.

What kind of reaction would she get from Mose when she told him about the possibility of a
bobbel
? She knew he was a good man, but could she ask him to raise another man's child? A pregnancy might be more than he bargained for.

The
Englisch
woman smiled at Sarah before they left the bathroom. “Good luck with that new baby.”

“Danke,” Sarah murmured and followed her out the door.

Sarah slid into the bench next to a still sleeping Mercy and sipped her water. “I'm sorry I took so long.”

The
Englisch
woman walked over to Mose and Sarah. “You have lovely children, ma'am.” The woman continued to walk down the narrow aisle. “I'm sure this next child will be just as darling as the other two.”

“Stomach problems again?” Mose asked. “You're as white as a sheet.”

Sarah felt in a state of shock. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Could I be pregnant?