Love Inspired June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: The Cowboy's Homecoming\The Amish Widow's Secret\Safe in the Fireman's Arms (35 page)

“Sure. I can do that, or I can wait for you in the truck and take you to the fabric store for supplies. It sounds like you're going to need piles of material for all those diapers and outfits.” Mose grinned as he walked to the front of the café.

Chapter Seventeen

T
he sunny, late-spring morning started off rough. Beatrice crawled out of bed grumpy and demanded she be allowed to wear her new church dress. Sarah's calm insistence finally prevailed and peace was restored. The sounds of two active
kinder
laughing and tearing through their playroom rang through the house and put a content smile on Sarah's face.

She flopped in an oversize chair in the great room for a moment of rest and put up her swollen feet on the matching ottoman. The breakfast dishes were washed and put away, and the last load of baby clothes gently agitated in the washer. A month of Florida living had calmed Sarah's troubled spirit. Life was calmer, more serene.

A shrill scream rang from the back of the house. Sarah sprang up and ran, her heart lodged in her throat. “What's happened?” At the door of the playroom she relaxed and chuckled as she took in the situation.

Beatrice lay sprawled on the carpeted floor on her stomach, her healthy little sister's chubby legs straddled across the middle of her back, a hand full of her curly hair wadded up in Mercy's tugging, pudgy fingers. Mercy jerked with all her might. Beatrice wiggled and tried to dump her sister off her back. Her legs pummeled the floor as she wailed, “Make her stop. Get her off me.”

Sarah had known the day would come, when Mercy could hold her own and pay back her older sister for all the times she'd been pushed or forced to play with toys she didn't want.

“Mercy. You mustn't hurt your big sister.” Sarah lifted the younger child off Beatrice's back and pulled the silky strands of golden hair from her fingers. “Beatrice won't want to play with you if you hurt her. You have to be kind to your big sister.”

“Nee,”
Mercy shouted, using her new voice, her words still not crystal clear, but getting better every day. She grabbed her doll from Beatrice's hands and smiled. “Mine.”

“Did you take her doll and give her yours?” With difficulty, her protruding stomach getting in her way, Sarah bent over Beatrice and gently combed her fingers through the child's snarled hair. Strands of pure gold went into the trash container, the remnants of the sister's fight over the doll.

“Yes, but she likes my doll. I wanted to play with her doll, but she yelled at me and pulled my hair.”

“We've talked about you taking your little sister's toys before, right?”

Beatrice glared at Mercy playing across the room. “Yes, but...”

“You have to allow Mercy to have toys of her own, too. You like having your own special babies, don't you?”

“Ya.”

Sarah handed Beatrice her favorite doll and smiled as it was swallowed up in the older child's warm embrace. “You love your doll and sometimes you like to be the only one to play with it. Mercy loves her doll, too, and she doesn't want anyone else to play with it. Do you understand?”

Head down, Beatrice nodded.

“
Gut
. In a minute I'll talk with Mercy about not pulling your hair anymore.”

Beatrice began to gather up the plastic dishes scattered at her feet. “I'll make pretend juice for Mercy and me. We can have a party.”

Offered an opportunity to talk with Beatrice without her being too distracted, Sarah helped the child place tiny cups and saucers on the round table Mose had made for them just weeks before. He had agreed she'd be the best person to break the news to the
kinder
about the
bobbel
. She had waited and prayed for a time just like this. “How would you feel if you and Mercy got a real
bobbel
to play with?”

“Do we have to keep Mercy?” Beatrice pretended to pour tea into a tiny cup.

“Of course, silly girl. We would never send your sister away.” Sarah pulled over a sturdy wooden stool and sat, waiting for more questions.

“If you have a baby, will you go to live with Jesus like my
mamm
did?” Tiny blond brows furrowed as she placed pretend cake on several little plates and handed one to Sarah.

“
Nee
. What happened to your
mamm
doesn't happen very often. Something went wrong and your
mamm
got very sick.” Sarah was not sure what she should say about Greta dying. How much the child should be told. She prayed for wisdom and allowed
Gott's
love for this child to direct her. “A new baby is always a blessing, Beatrice. Like you and Mercy were when you were born.”

“Mercy's mean. I don't like her sometimes.” Beatrice knocked the dishes on the floor. The troubled child's shows of temper came less frequently now, but still had to be handled with care.

Sarah dropped to her knees in front of Beatrice and held her gaze. “Throwing down dishes doesn't solve anything. It only gets you in more trouble. Maybe together we can think of better ways to express your anger with Mercy, like telling her how it makes you feel when she makes you angry. You're her big sister.”

“But I don't like being her big sister today.” Beatrice looked at Sarah defiantly. Her lip puckered and tears rolled down her flushed cheeks.

“I know you don't like her right now, but remember when you two were on the swings yesterday? You had so much fun together. You laughed a lot, and it was fun to have a little sister then, right?”

Beatrice looked up through tear-soaked lashes, her eyes sparkling. “
Ya
, it was fun.”

“Well, Mercy needs you to help her grow into a nice young lady. She's going to be a big sister, too, when the baby comes. Someone older, like you, has to help Mercy be a good big sister. Do you think that someone could be you?”

Sarah watched the play of emotions flit across the child's face. She finally smiled a dimpled grin. “I could teach Mercy to be nice to the baby when it comes. I'm the oldest, and she listens to me...sometimes.”

“That's right. You're the big sister.” Sarah took Beatrice's hand and placed it on her protruding stomach. The baby had been active all morning, and it seemed the perfect time to introduce the unborn child to Beatrice. “Did you feel the baby kick?”

Like it was planned, the baby kicked hard under Beatrice's hand, putting a glowing smile on the child's face and a sparkle in her blue eyes. “
Ya
, I felt him kick.”

“I bet you did. You know, we have to think of a good name for the new baby. What do you think we should call her if she's a girl?”

Beatrice looked up, smiling, but serious. “It's a boy. I know it is. We have to call him Levi.”

Shaken, Sarah tried to stay calm. Levi had been Joseph's
daed's
name, a name she had already considered for a boy. “Why Levi, Beatrice?”

“Because Jesus told me my brother would be named Levi and that he'd grow up to be a good man, like his
daed
.”

Sarah pulled the little girl close and hugged her, tears swimming in her eyes. “Then Levi it will be, liebling.”

* * *

After church the next day, Linda carried a tray of salt and pepper shakers over to the extra deep counter at the back of the church kitchen and put it down with a bang.

“That Sharon Lapp makes me so mad.”

Used to Linda's rants, Sarah smiled her way. “What did she say?”

Linda slid onto a kitchen stool and braced her feet under the slats, her protruding stomach bullet shaped.

“It's not what she said. It's how she treats me. She acts like I should just sit in a chair and wait for the pains to start just because I'm overdue. It's not some kind of sin being two weeks late. The baby's just lazy like his
daed
.” She laughed at the remark as if it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. “And now she just told me I can't help with clean up. Who is she to tell me anything? I'm not bedridden, for goodness—” She broke off her words and let two women pass before she restarted her private rant with Sarah. “Besides, I feel great and have so much energy.”

“I think she's right. You look ready to pop at any moment. Maybe Kurt should take you home and let you put your feet up. Church lasted a long time today with all the new preachers showing off. You're bound to be tired. I know I'm ready to get off my feet.”

Linda's scalding glare wrinkled her forehead and put a twist to her lip as she spoke. “Your feet might be hurting you, but I feel fine and I'm not...” Eyes wide, Linda's expression turned from anger to opened mouth horror. “
Ach
!
Gott
help me, Sarah. I think my water just broke.”

Sarah put down the pan she'd been drying and hurried over to Linda. “Are you sure?” Liquid dripped off Linda's shoe and onto the floor.

“
Ya
, I'm sure. I'm not prone to wetting myself on kitchen stools. What am I going to do? I'm soaked and everyone will know what's happening. Oh, mercy, even that know-it-all, Sharon Lapp.”

Sarah thought for a moment, her legs trembling. “I'll go get Kurt and Mose. One of them can bring the truck around, and the other can carry you out the kitchen's back door. No one will see you. I'll make sure.”

“Hurry. I feel like a fool sitting here in a puddle.”

Sarah found Mose first, the last of his celery soup forgotten as soon as she whispered the frantic situation in his ear. He motioned for Kurt to come over and within seconds both men were at a full run, Mose headed out the front of the church to pull the truck around back. Kurt fumbled his way to the kitchen, knocking over a chair as he hurried. Minutes later, Linda waved a frantic goodbye to Sarah as Mose peeled out of the church parking lot and burned rubber down the farm road.

Thoughts of her own birth raced through her mind. She'd been warned the pain could be overwhelming. Plus, there were the added responsibilities to consider. Was she ready to be the mother of a tiny
bobbel
? Joseph's
bobbel
. What if the
kinder
resented it?

Would she be able to cope with three children and still be a good wife to Mose?

Chapter Eighteen

T
he soft mallet tapped the last spindle into place, and then Mose twisted the chair to an upright position. The back fit snugly into the seat, all four legs flared in perfect alignment. He stood back and looked at the completed project, his hands testing for weak joints. His trained eye searched for flaws, anything that might require a minor adjustment, and saw none.

Otto Fischer breezed into the back workroom, his pants and shirt covered in mud splatter. “
Wie gehts
, Mose?”

“
Gut
. I can see you've been working hard.” Mose smiled at his father. “Will you ever retire?” He put away tools and then downed a bottle of water as he listened to his father's ramblings.

“Not while there's still breath in my body. I'd rather slop pigs and dig trenches all day than spend all my time with Theda when those gossiping women are in my
haus
. They pretend to make quilts every week, but really they gather to talk.” He used his hand to imitate a duck quacking. “You should see them leaning over that big quilt frame, their mouths working as hard as their thimbles.” Otto grabbed an old wooden chair and sat, his legs sprawled out in front of him.

“
Mamm
would keep you busy doing little jobs around the
haus.
You'd never have time to be bored.” Mose sat in the new chair, wiggling in the seat, still testing. “You get her off to her sister's in time?”

“
Ya
. But she took too many suitcases, as usual, and the train was late.”

“Maybe she plans to be gone a while.”

“
Ach
, she says three, but I can count on four or five days of peace.” Otto smirked, his lip curling into a happy arch. “You know how your mother is. Once she gets to Ohio and sees her sister, she'll stick like glue for a while.”

“Come eat with us if you find yourself hungry. Sarah's a
gut
cook.”

“That she is. Still, I might go to Lapp's every night. I can eat all the things your
mamm
won't let me have. They make good apple strudel.” He grinned like a naughty child.

The big room darkened. Mose flipped on the overhead light and jerked back the curtain. Gray clouds billowed overhead. A sudden gust of wind blew a trash can lid across the parking lot. The plastic orb slammed into the fence. “Looks like a storm's brewing. You heard a weather forecast today?”

Otto came and stood next to Mose. “
Nee
, but it got nasty out there fast. Maybe there's something blowing in we don't know about.”

Fat splats of rain hit the window. Mose dropped the curtain and turned on a small, dusty radio on the shelf next to him, his finger twisting the knob until he found the weather station.

Both men listened silently. The voice reported a mild tropical depression just off the west coast of Florida. Heavy rain and moderate winds were headed inland, moving toward the Tampa Bay area. Mose breathed a sigh of relief when the man reported the weather bureau didn't expect the depression to grow into a hurricane this late in the season. He flipped off the radio and grabbed his cup. “You want some stale coffee?”

“
Nee
. I should get back to the house and make sure all the windows are shut. I just came by to pick up that footrest you made your
mamm
.”

“Sure. It's up front.”

The two men walked to the front of the store. “
Guder mariye
, Austin. How are you?” Otto greeted the young salesman now that he wasn't busy with a customer.

“
Gut
, Mr. Fischer. It's been busy, but the rain's run off all our customers.”

Otto looked out at the sheets of rain blowing and pulled his hat down around his ears. “This one's going to be a soaker. I think I'll pick up that footrest another time, Mose. Just don't sell it out from under me. Oh,
ya.
I almost forgot. Linda had a seven-pound baby girl last night.”

Mose breathed a sigh of relief and grinned. “All went well?”

“
Ya
, no bumps in the road.”

“Kurt has to be thrilled.” Mose said.

“He is, but he wanted a boy, but don't tell Sarah that bit of information. You know how women are. She'll tell Linda and it could get ugly at Kurt's house.” Otto smiled playfully and gave his son a generous smack on the back, then waved to Austin as he headed out the door. “Keep dry,” he called over his shoulder and faced the onslaught.

His bike was parked next to the door. Otto kept to the sidewalk. His clothes were soaked to his skin before he rode away.

“
Mei bruder
puts on roofs. I know he got sent home today,” Austin murmured, watching Otto struggle to peddle down the wet street.

“
Ach
, you might as well go, too. I won't dock your pay. No one's coming out in this weather. I'll watch for stragglers for a while. You go before you can't ride your bike home.”

* * *

Books and toys were strewn all over the playroom. With both girls napping, Sarah dropped to the carpeted floor and began to clear up while she could. Dolls went into the tiny cot Mose had made before she had become his wife. Greta must have been so pleased when he'd walked it through the door.
Kinder's
books were stacked on the low bookshelf, something else he'd built early on. All around her were reminders of Mose and Greta's family. Sarah's family now. She wished she'd met the woman. Everyone had only good things to say about her.

The back door slammed shut and Sarah shuddered. The sudden noise scared her. She hated storms. She had Adolph to blame for that. She remembered the day he'd put her outside for not doing a chore while one had raged overhead. Only a child, she had begged to come in, but her cries had fallen on deaf ears. She'd hidden in the chicken coop, holding her favorite hen to her breast as she'd sobbed and lightning had flashed overhead. She'd screamed every time thunder crashed around her. Pushing the memories away, the tear trailing down her cheek, she grabbed the last toy and put the fat teddy bear on Beatrice's rocker.

Sarah closed the window over the kitchen sink and wiped down the kitchen counters, even though she'd already cleaned them an hour ago. She needed something to do.

The doorbell rang and her hand stilled. It rang again.
Who is out in a downpour like this?
A peek out the front window showed a man in a police officer's uniform wiping rain off his glasses. He stood with another man, this one in a suit and plastic raincoat. He leaned a wet umbrella against the doorframe and waited. Both men looked very official.

Leaving the security latch on, Sarah opened the door a crack.
“Ya?”

The police officer leaned in to be heard over the heavy rain, his face inches from the door. “Are you Sarah Nolt Fischer?”

She began to tremble. Her legs threatened to collapse from under her. “
Ya
, that's me. Can I help you?” She opened the door a bit more and looked at the badge the man thrust at her. “I'm Officer Luis Cantu from the city of Sarasota. This is Frank Parsons, our liaison officer.” Rain dripped off his nose as his head nodded at Sarah through the cracked door. “Can we come in?”

Sarah pulled on her prayer
kapp
ribbon. “
Ya
, come in out of the rain.” She unlocked the door and stepped back.

Both men glanced around as they stepped in and wiped their wet feet on the door mat. “I need to talk to you about your late husband, Joseph Nolt. Can we sit down?”

“This way.” Sarah showed them to the great room and motioned toward the couch. She sat in a matching chair across the room, and placed her trembling hands in her lap.

The man in the dark navy suit pulled off his raincoat and sat on the edge of the couch. He took a small black notebook out of his breast pocket and flipped through several pages.

Sarah's heart beat so loudly she couldn't hear the rain anymore. She forced her mind to focus, pushing every thought aside until he spoke.

“Are you aware the death of your husband was not an accident?”

Sarah forced herself to breath in. “
Nee
. They told me he died of...the smoke.” She held back a sob with her hand.

“Mrs. Fischer, is there anyone I can call for you? Your new husband, a friend?”

Her fingers nervously pulled at the ribbon on her
kapp
. “Why? Am I in trouble?” A cramp began in the lower part of her back and traveled to her stomach, tearing at her insides. Linda told her to think of the pain as prelabor, her bones moving over to prepare for the baby's birth. The pain was normal. Nothing to worry about.

“No, but since you're pregnant, I thought you might like someone with you. This conversation could be upsetting.” His brown eyes looked her up and down, assessing.

Sarah glanced at the clock on the wall. “Mose will be here soon. He usually eats lunch at home.”

The man sat back. “Good. We can wait for him.”

“
Nee
, tell me what you have to say. This is my business. I was married to Joseph. I have a right to know everything about his death.”

He glanced back at his notebook and gave the police officer a quick glance. “Okay.” The man cleared his throat. “Your husband did die from smoke inhalation, but he also had blunt force trauma to his head.”

“No one told me.” Sarah shuddered. “Is this why you came? To tell me this?”

“Not just that. I just thought you'd want to know all the details. That's why I wanted your new husband with you.”

Her hand pressed against the pain in her back. “Go on. Tell me the rest.”

“The reports from the Lancaster County sheriff's office shows a Benjamin Hochstetler Sr. confessed to the killing of your husband several days ago. I believe you knew the man. Am I right?”

“
Ya
. He was our neighbor, but what do you mean he confessed to killing Joseph? I thought...” Sarah looked away, ashamed to look him in the eyes. Was it true? Had Benjamin Hochstetler killed Joseph?

“Some new facts have surfaced and the community's bishop, Ralf Miller, asked that we contact you now that we've put all the pieces of the puzzle together. He said you'd be interested in what we've learned.”

Sarah's mind reeled. Her throat seemed to constrict as she asked, “What is this additional news? I want to know everything.”

“Hochstetler was arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct. During questioning he began to talk about his children, how much he hated Joseph Nolt for interfering in his personal business.” The police officer flipped the page he'd been referring to and continued. “We put his ramblings down to the drink and he bailed himself out the next morning, still rambling about the loss of his two sons, Lukas and Benjamin Jr.” He looked up. “You knew the boys?”

Sarah sighed. “I knew them. They are
gut
boys.” Wind-driven rain lashed the windows. Lightning struck somewhere close and thunder rumbled, shaking the house and Sarah. Overhead lights flickered. She longed for a glass of water but didn't think her legs would hold her if she tried to walk to the kitchen.

“When the forensics team got through with the barn, they had noted there was no sign of your cow, Mrs. Fischer. You did say a cow had been in the barn the night your husband died?”

“
Ya
. I thought Lovey died in the fire, too. Are you saying you've found her after all these months?”
Stop asking questions. Shut up. Listen.

“They did. She was grazing in a nearby field owned by Hochstetler.”

“I see.” A terrible trembling began to shake her entire body. She fought for control.

Another page turned. The man cleared his voice. “Two days ago the body of Benjamin Hochstetler was found hanging by a rope. He'd killed himself some time during the night. He'd mailed a letter to his lawyer confessing to killing your husband in a struggle. He said he'd come to steal the cow and your husband had caught him. He wrote that during the struggle, he pushed Joseph Nolt, and his head hit a concrete block. Sure that he was dead, Hochstetler set a fire in the barn, hoping to hide any evidence that might connect him to the crime. He ran back to his farm, hid the cow in the barn and went to bed, burning the clothes he'd worn the next day.”

“But I heard Joseph's cry for help. I tried to get him out, but the fire...my hands, they were burned. After a moment he stopped screaming and I must have fainted. Someone called the fire department and they found me lying in the dirt just outside the barn. They discovered Joseph's remains later that morning. How can Benjamin Hochstetler's story be true if Joseph called out to me?” Sarah searched the man's eyes for clarity.

“We believe your husband didn't die from the fall. He must have been knocked out and woke, unable to make his way out of the barn. The fire was too hot from the accelerant used and spread fast. It stopped him like it stopped you.”

Sarah nodded, tears streaming down her face. “If only... Did he suffer, you think?”

“No, the smoke probably got him before the fire did. I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Fischer. You have my condolences. I hope knowing the truth will help you put away this nightmare so you can go on with your new life.”

Sarah needed to have time to think about what she'd just learned. She stood to her feet and then fell back against the chair, the sound of rain and her name being called swirled in the black fog enveloping her.