Love Inspired June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: The Cowboy's Homecoming\The Amish Widow's Secret\Safe in the Fireman's Arms (34 page)

Mose left the room, reaching for the cell phone in his pocket, grinning from ear to ear as he headed for the bedroom where Mercy lay sleeping.

Chapter Sixteen

B
oxes littered the small beige room with north-facing windows. Sarah had dreamed of a room such as this all her life. Somewhere to sew until her eyes grew tired and blurry.

She stood in the middle of a pile of boxes and turned slowly. She pictured a big cutting table in the corner, and a fixture on the wall to hold all her spools of thread. Not that she had that many right now, but she would. Soon.

She stepped, and stumbled over an oblong box, the weight of it almost knocking her over. She tried to lift it but the box fought back. She struggled to open it and groaned when she found heavy brads clamping the box shut.
What can this be?

She read the label printed on the container and recognized the name of a professional sewing machine manufacturer, the brand so expensive she'd never dreamed of owning one.
Do I dare hope?
Her hands became claws. She tore at the cardboard box, ripping away bits and pieces of cardboard.

Frustration sent her scurrying around looking for a screwdriver, box cutter...anything. She finally found a suitable tool in the least likely place. On the floor.

“Argh.” She grabbed the large screwdriver and forced it under the heavily clamped cardboard flap. Five or six pokes and the flap gave way, sending Sarah flying forward so violently she had to grab the heavy box to steady herself.

With sore, trembling fingers she tore the last of the box away and reached in, removing the clear plastic zip bag with a medium-sized book inside and some kind of small tool kit. Peering back into the box, a white sewing machine waited for her release. Like giving birth, she pushed and pulled, willing the sewing machine to come out. The idea of using the sharp tool on the box again gave her pause. She might scratch the fine machine, and she loathed the idea. Her heart pounding with excitement, she took a long, deep breath and pulled hard.
The heavy sewing machine skidded across the floor and landed inches from the doorway and Mose's booted feet.

Sarah glanced past his rain-dampened boots, wrinkled pants and shirt, to his smiling face. His generosity overwhelmed her. Tugged at her heartstrings. She didn't deserve such kindness.

“Need some help?” Mose squatted down in front of Sarah and her precious sewing machine.

“Looks like I do.”

* * *

The next morning, the doctor's office was empty except for Mose and Sarah. He paced the length of the office, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

Sarah, determined to look calm, leafed through a modern
Englisch
magazine. She gazed at the faces of beautiful women and handsome men and wondered what their lives were really like. Were they as happy as their smiles implied?
Am I happy?
Her life certainly had taken a sudden turn for the better. She felt more content now that Mercy was on the mend and doing so well, and Mose seemed more and more attentive to her.
But do I dare love him?

“Eight o'clock, right?” Mose looked at his pocket watch, a frown wrinkling his face.

“What?
Ya
, the appointment is for eight o'clock.” Sarah held back a smile, afraid she'd offend him. Mose was one of the most impatient men she'd ever met, but she wouldn't rub his nose in it. Let him have his impatience.
Gott
knew she had enough flaws of her own.

“You filled out all the papers?” He flopped down next to her and pulled his long legs under the chair as far as they would go. He glanced at the woman sitting behind a short partition.

“She'll call us soon.” Sarah smoothed out her collar and straightened her
kapp
. She caught Mose glancing over her shoulder and smiled to herself when he made a noise deep in his throat, almost like a cat hacking up hair balls.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Mose stood and began to move about the room. The watch came out again. He snapped it shut, mumbling under his breath about punctuality and professionalism.

“Sarah Fischer?”

Mose turned on his heel. Sarah stood to her feet. Neither moved.

“Mr. and Mrs. Fischer?” Tall and lean, and dressed in white slacks and a pullover top covered in colorful zoo animals, the technician motioned them back and waited at the door as they passed into the back office. “Find a seat, Dad. Mom, please get on the table.” The woman smiled at both of them.

Sarah looked at the metal table covered in paper in the middle of the room and fought the urge to run. A gown lay folded on the paper.
Would she have to get undressed in front of Mose?

Preparing the machine, the technician scurried around, moving things on and off. “I'll let you change into the gown. Just leave the door open a crack when you're ready.”

Sarah looked at Mose and then the exiting nurse. “I...”

Mose turned his back to her and faced the wall. He murmured, “I'll keep my back turned.”

Sarah complied, her dress flying off and then her slip. They lay in a crumpled pile on the chair next to the table as she pulled on the gown, leaving the thin cotton open at the front but pulled tightly closed against her body. With difficulty, she sat on the edge of the table and covered her legs as much as the short gown would allow. She wiggled her toes, not sure what to do next. “All right,” she murmured. “Open the door.”

Mose did as he was directed and sat in the chair at the back of the room.

“Is this your first sonogram, Mrs. Fischer?” The technician hurried in and shut off the bright overhead light. The room was bathed in a gray glow. She sat down in a swivel chair and turned knobs and flicked levers on the strange machine next to the table.

Fascinated with what the technician was doing, Sarah almost forgot to answer. “
Ya
. My first.”

The woman pushed buttons, opened a drawer and took out a tube of some kind of cream. “If you'll lie back, we'll get started.” She smiled reassuringly at Sarah and then glanced over at Mose. “You'll need to get closer, Dad, if you want to see the baby.” She opened the gown just enough to see Sarah's stomach.

Sarah jumped when cold liquid hit her skin.

“Sorry, I should have warmed that with my hands.” She began to rub an extension of the machine on Sarah's stomach. With her finger she pointed to a screen. “You'll both want to be looking here.”

Sarah saw strange wavy images and movement. A sound filled the room, its rhythmic beat fast and steady.

“That's your baby's heartbeat.”

“Oh...” Emotions she'd never felt overwhelmed her. The beat sounded strong, but fast. “Is it normal for the heart to beat so fast?”

“Sure. New moms always ask me that.” She moved the apparatus around Sarah's stomach again and more images appeared. She pointed to the screen. “There's a hand and that's the baby's spine.”

Sarah blinked, not sure what she was looking at, but determined to see her child's image.

“Look, Sarah. There's the face.” Mose's words came from the end of the table.

The woman pointed and suddenly the image became clear. A face, with closed eyes, a tiny button nose and bowed mouth became clear. Then the face disappeared and Sarah felt deflated. She wanted to see it again but there was more to see. Slender legs squirmed and kicked, floating in and out of view, a tiny foot with five distinct toes flexed.

“Do you two want to know the sex of your child?”

“Nee,”
Sarah said. She longed to know, but knowing would take away some of the thrill of birth, and she'd have none of that.

“Better turn your heads away then.”

Sarah looked away, longing to look back.

“Okay, let's see if we can find the head again and take some measurements. Then we'll be through.”

Sarah looked back at the screen and saw what looked like a head full of curly hair. The screen went blank, and Sarah drew in a deep breath, holding back tears of disappointment. She wanted to see more, much more.

“Looks like everything's fine.” The technician wiped the jelly off Sarah's stomach with a paper towel. “Your about 30 weeks pregnant, even though the baby is a bit small. I'd put your due date around six weeks from now, give or take a day or two, but the doctor may change that a little when you see her. You have an appointment with her, right?”

“Ya.”
Mose cleared his throat.

“Good. You did really well for a first-timer, Mom. You can both rest easy. Your baby appears healthy.”

“Danke,”
Sarah murmured, pulling the gown closed as she watched the woman leave. Mose gave her a hand up and she sat still for a moment, letting everything she had seen and heard sink in.

“
Danke
for letting me be here.” Mose's emotion deepened his voice and moved her to tears.

Sarah held the gown closed with one hand and wiped a tear away with the other. “
Nee
, Mose. I should be thanking you for coming with me. This
Englisch
way of checking the baby had me afraid, but now I wish they could do it all over again.”

A silly smile played on Mose's lips. “
Ya
. I wish that, too.” His look was different. Almost as though he was in a daze.

They had shared the wondrous moment together, but then Mose faced the wall once more. “Time to get dressed, I guess.”

“Ya.”
Sarah dressed quickly and touched Mose's arm. “Okay. I'm ready.”

Mose took her by the elbow and led her through the hall. They passed the technician and stopped as she called out to them.

“I almost forgot to give you these.” She handed over a white office envelope and scurried away.

“What is this?” Sarah pulled out stiff pieces of paper. She looked down, right into the face of her child. “Mose. It's pictures of the
bobbel
.”

* * *

Mose gave Sarah a hand up into the old furniture delivery truck. He waited until she'd buckled her seat belt and tucked her skirt under her legs before he shut the door. A quick maneuver around two golf carts vying for his vacated parking spot, and the truck merged onto Bahia Vista Street. The slow-moving traffic wove through the quaint town of Sarasota, sweltering in the late spring humidity.

Quiet and still, Sarah held on to the envelope of pictures, her fingers white-knuckled. “Hungry?” Mose asked as he shifted gears. The engine strained, making an unfamiliar noise. He shifted into third and sped up.

Sarah tucked the pictures in her white apron pocket and patted the spot. “Not really.”

“I'll bet the baby could use some eggs and bacon with a side of cheese grits.” He grinned at her, trying to keep the mood light. “He or she could use some meat on those tiny bones.”

“You're right. I need to eat more. I just don't have much of an appetite lately.”

Mose felt guilty. He'd used the baby as a reason for her to eat. Sarah looked thoughtful. Was she thinking it was her fault the baby was a bit undersized? He kept his voice easy and calm, knowing she was stressed. “How about Yoder's? We ate there when we first got into town. They always have great food and you can get another look at the only buggy you'll see around here for miles. Kind of a reminder of what you're missing.”

Sarah smiled at his last remark. “I don't miss those hard seats, Mose Fischer. Not one bit.”

Mose pulled into Yoder's parking lot five minutes later and parked between a seldom-seen shiny black BMW and a couple of beat-up tricycles so common-place in Pinecraft and Sarasota. After opening Sarah's door, he offered her his hand and smiled when she took it and squeezed his fingers tight. Her pregnancy was obvious to anyone who looked her way now. She glowed in a way Greta never had, her hair shining in the bright sun, her complexion rosy and smooth. He felt a sharp pang of guilt at the thought. It was wrong to think such things. He marched up the driveway, Sarah at his side, his mood suddenly soured.

* * *

Sarah forced down toast and scrambled eggs, not even looking at the glass of orange juice she would normally down in one long gulp. The juice gave her heartburn now, and she avoided it like a poison. Linda often teased her the baby would have lots of hair because of her stomach issues. The scan of the baby proved her sister-in-law's theory correct.

“You're deep in thought. Something troubling you?” Mose scooped up a spoon full of grits and shoved it in his mouth as if he was eating orange ambrosia, her favorite desert.

“We need to talk, Mose
.
” Sarah nibbled on her last slice of dry toast and washed it down with a sip of cold milk. “Seeing the baby on the scan made this pregnancy so real to me.” She pushed back her glass and looked into his eyes. “I've finally awakened from my stupor. I have just over a month before the baby comes, and I haven't made diapers, much less gowns and bibs. Plus, we haven't mentioned the baby to Beatrice. She has to be told. There's no telling what kind of reaction we'll get from her.”

“You're a worrier. Worriers get wrinkles. Didn't anyone ever warn you about that?”

Hormone levels sending her mood into overdrive, Sarah flung her triangle of toast on her plate and glared at him. “I'm trying to have a serious talk with you about important issues and you want to joke around. Seriously! Sometimes you are one of the most infuriating men I've ever had the misfortune to meet.”

Mose looked across at her, his sparkling eyes holding her gaze as he sipped coffee from a big white mug. He sat the mug back on the table. “In time you'll realize nothing is going to change, no matter how much you fret. The baby will be born. It will have clothes to wear, even if we have to buy them from an
Englisch
store. And the girls will love the baby because that's what
kinder
do. They love
bobbels
.”

With one quick swipe Sarah wiped her mouth, threw the red cloth on her plate and stood. “I'm going to the bathroom, and while I'm gone I'd appreciate it if you'd pay the bill. I'd like to go home now.”