The Saddle Maker's Son (15 page)

The shop or the farm? Tobias felt split in two. Without Daed and David, chores at home were piling up, as much as Rueben, Micah, Liam, and even the girls tried to help. The air was heavy with heat and humidity, making his shirt stick to his back. He smoothed the sorrel's leg and lifted it to examine the hoof. The horse needed a new shoe. Teeth gritted, Tobias straightened and patted the poor creature's long neck.

The sky glowered overhead, matching his mood. They needed rain, but rain would keep them out of the fields. They were already behind planting the onions and broccoli that the grocery-store chain bought from the others. And Button could not continue to pull the plow with his shoe about to come off. Tobias would have to ask Jeremiah where the closest farrier was. Unless the Glicks did their own shoeing. Which was possible. He'd never done it, and now wasn't the time for trial and error.

The sound of an engine drowned out the shrill conversation of two wrens roosting in the nearby live oak tree. He wiped sweat from his face with the back of his sleeve and turned to look.

A blue minivan like the one that had been parked outside the
church last week putted along the road that led to the house. Jesse. The time of reckoning had come. Martha had Lupe in the kitchen, teaching her how to make bread. Diego had taken to following Rueben around, mimicking his every move. At the moment they should be mending the fence around the chicken coop. The coyotes were making off with more than their share of the hens that provided the Byler family with an important part of their breakfast.

In a short time Lupe and Diego had become part of the family. Keeping a distance from kinner simply wasn't possible. Maybe for others, but not Tobias. His heart didn't have an Off button, it seemed. Teeth gritted once again, he strode from the corral and made his way to the road.

The minivan slowed, stopped, belching fumes and smoke near the hitching post. Seconds later Jesse emerged along with Leila. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the back door slid open. Rebekah popped out, Gracie in her arms. Tobias forgot to look at Jesse and Leila. All he could see was this young woman with a baby on her hip. She looked exactly as a fraa should look. As a mudder should look. The baby had Jesse's dark, curly hair, but Leila's fair complexion and blue eyes.

What would Tobias's bopli look like, his and Rebekah's? The thought sent a wave of heat through him. Such a thought. He hadn't even asked her to take a ride with him. Doing so would mean he had one more person to protect. A person who might leave him.

His heart intended to ask her to take a ride. His brain didn't have the wherewithal to stop it. How could he be thinking of himself at a time like this? He had no time for mushy stuff. He took a breath and turned to Jesse. “You have something to tell us?”

“This is my wife, Leila.” Jesse took Leila's hand. “Rebekah has my daughter, Gracie.”

“We've met.” Tobias tried to keep his gaze on Jesse, but it kept wandering to Rebekah. “What did you find out?”

“That's right. I forgot. At their secret meeting.” Jesse shook his head as if to say,
Women
. “We need to take Lupe and Diego in to be processed so they can set up their hearing. That way the government can start looking for their father. He could be in the system. They could be reunited that way.”

“What if he's not?”

“Then we'll ask for custody until their case goes to court. That could be months or years.”

“We could go to San Antonio, try to find their father on our own. Then they could stay here.”

“San Antonio is too big. Where would we start?” Leila stepped between Jesse and Tobias. “We have to have faith in the system. The kinner will be safe with us until their hearing. No one will come looking for them at our house.”

Rain plopped on his nose. Up north, rain cooled the air. Here, it didn't seem to do much but create more steam and humidity. Did Rebekah like this plan? Tobias glanced at her. She looked so motherly. So like a fraa. More drops splatted in the dirt, leaving wet blotches that looked like a child's drawings. “What do you think?”

Emotions flitted across her face. Fear mixed with sadness. Determination. “I want what's best for them. I don't know what that is, but I trust Jesse.”

Jesse, but not Leila? An interesting omission. If she trusted her brother-in-law, he would have to do so as well. He studied his shoes, not wanting to see the pain on her face. “Lupe is in the kitchen. Diego's working on the chicken-coop fence or getting in the way more likely.”

“We'll tell them together.” Her dirty sneakers appeared in his view of the ground. “Tobias?”

He looked into her face. Her lips trembled with the effort to control her tears. She didn't want Lupe and Diego to go either. He straightened. “They'll be okay with your sister and brother-in-law. I trust them.”

Rebekah nodded but sniffed. “I don't want them to go.”

“Me neither. But they'll be in good hands.”

“Lead the way.”

He tromped toward the house, paused to knock dirt from his boots by the front door, and then led them to the kitchen, all the while listening to Gracie's high-pitched babble and Rebekah's amused responses, a sort of music that soothed the soul of any family man.

He stuck his head in the doorway. “Lupe.”

Martha turned, her cheeks red from the heat, a bread pan in one hand. The heavenly scent of fresh-baked bread wafted on the air. “She went to see who's out front. We heard a car.”

“We were out front.” Tobias jerked his head toward their guests. “They've come about Lupe and Diego.”

“She said something in Spanish I didn't understand. Like hombre malo.” Martha shrugged. “Then she went out the back door. She let the screen door slam, which wasn't like her at all, but I figured she was excited about visitors.”

“We didn't see her.”

She plopped the pan on the counter. “I have peanut butter cookies and tea, if anyone is interested.”

“Maybe later.” He brushed past Jesse and the others. “Let me see if we missed her out front.”

No sign of Lupe by the front porch. He surveyed the yard. No
little girl who insisted on wearing a red, white, and blue T-shirt with faded jeans every other day. “Lupe? Lupe!” He cupped his hands to his mouth to make his shout carry. “Lupe, we have company here to talk to you.”

No answer.

Tobias plodded down the stairs and headed for the backyard and the chicken coop. The baby chatter behind him told him the others followed.

Rueben looked up as they approached, a little ragtag group. “I'm almost done. Good thing too. It looks like the sky is about to open up. Again. It seems the drought is over.”

“Where are Lupe and Diego?”

“Lupe came by a few minutes ago and said she wanted to talk to Diego.” Rueben pointed with his hammer. “Then she started talking a mile a minute in Spanish. They went off yonder.”

Hombre malo. On the day he'd first met Lupe, she'd thought he was an hombre malo. Bad man. She had seen Jesse and been afraid of the bad man. Tobias turned to the others. “She may have seen you drive up and taken off.”

“I told you she was scared.” Rebekah hitched Gracie up on her hip. “She doesn't trust men she doesn't know.”

“I'll go after them.” Tobias glanced at the sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Lightning crackled across threatening clouds that hung so low it seemed he could reach out and touch them. “We need to find them before the storm hits.”

Rebekah handed Gracie to Leila. “I'll go with you.”

“Nee, not necessary. It's about to storm.”

“A little water won't hurt me.”

“I should go.” Frowning, Jesse looked from Rebekah to Tobias. “It would be more proper.”

That he should be the one to worry about what was proper made Tobias want to snort, but he didn't. “Whatever you think.”

“Nee. That's the whole point. She's scared of men. Hombre malo. That's you.” Rebekah pointed at Jesse with an accusing finger. “She'll come to me.”

Her obstinate tone told him it was useless to argue. “Fine. Jesse, come or not come, it's up to you.”

Leila put a hand on her husband's arm. “Let them go.”

“Fine.”

“Y'all wait inside. Keep Gracie dry.” Rebekah headed toward the dirt road that meandered deeper into Byler property. “We'll be back.”

It only took a minute or two for him to outpace her. She didn't say anything, her breathing soft, her dress swishing around her legs as she skipped to keep up. He took pity on her and slowed.

“Are you mad about something?” She sounded breathless. He slowed some more. “Did I do something?”

“Nee. What makes you say that?”

“You keep frowning and you look like you have a headache. You're grumpy.”

He had reason to be grumpy. He found himself caring about her, when he hadn't wanted to care about a woman again. “I'm worried about Lupe and Diego.”

“You looked that way before you knew they'd run off—”

“We don't know they ran off.”

“She knew. Lupe's a smart girl.”

“She couldn't know.”

Rebekah pressed her lips together and flounced ahead.

“Where are you going?”

“They couldn't have gotten far. Their legs are short.”

“Not much shorter than yours.”

“My legs aren't short. I'm tall for a girl.” She whirled and glared, dirt making tiny plumes around her black sneakers. “Are you anxious to argue?”

“Nee. I . . .” He stopped. “I'm short on patience these days.”

Her glare melted. “I imagine so. Sorry for making it worse.”

Her tone was soft, her face anxious. She had such a good heart and he was making her miserable. “You didn't.” He shrugged, struggling for words. “We have a lot of work to do.”

“Without your daed, you feel lost.”

“Nee. We're capable of taking care of things.” He was a full-grown man. He could handle it. “With the farm and the shop and the kinner, I just want to make sure everything goes well.”

“Your daed knows that.”

“I want him home.” Was it wrong to admit such a thing? “I want him well.”

“Any
suh
would.”

“You lost your daed.”

“It seems a long time ago, but jah, I still remember. Your daed's coming back, though.”

“I know.” He did know, so why did he let it worry him? Worry showed a lack of faith. “Lupe! Diego! Come out. We want to talk to you. It's okay.”

“Lupe, come on, it's me, Rebekah.”

As if they wouldn't recognize her voice. “It's about to storm. Come on, you'll get wet.”

The kinner probably suffered much worse during their sojourn from Central America. The rain went from a mist to big drops that splatted on his hat and face.

Rebekah wiped at her face as rain soaked her dress and apron. “Here we go.”

“Lupe, por favor, let us talk to you.”

Rebekah grinned. “You learned a Spanish word.”

“Several words. She taught us all at the supper table.”

“That's gut.”

The scattered raindrops turned into a deluge. Rebekah laughed. Her apron was soaked, her kapp hung low on the back of her head, and mud sullied the hem of her dress. Yet she laughed.

“What's so funny?”

“We're always wanting rain. Now, when we have it, it's inconvenient.”

Mud sucked at the soles of his boots, making it hard to lift his feet. “I don't mind getting wet.”

“Me neither.”

Lightning crackled overhead. Thunder boomed. Rebekah ducked. Giggling, she clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Are you still laughing?”

“I'm so silly. Like ducking will help.”

This time the lightning sizzled. A tree branch buckled and smashed to the ground.

“Ach, that is a little too close.” Tobias grabbed her arm and steered her toward a shack on the tree line. He hadn't had a chance to investigate its purpose yet. It looked as if it might crash to the ground in a heap at any moment, but it had to be drier—and safer—than out in the middle of the elements. “Let's get inside until it lets up a little.”

Rebekah tugged away. “Lupe and Diego are out there.”

“They're not addled. They'll find shelter too.”

Thunder boomed again. Rebekah's hands went to her head. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

The shed smelled of rotted wood, but it was dry. Tobias longed
for a kerosene lamp. Even a candle would do. He held the door open long enough to survey the interior. A wagon wheel, empty egg crates, a broken chair. Junk. The floor was dirt but dry. “Have a seat.”

“I'll stand. There might be mice in here.” Her teeth chattered. He hadn't been south long enough to find a summer rain cold. “Or snakes.”

He opened the door and took another quick look in the dim light of a stormy exterior. Nothing scurried or slithered. “I think we're safe.”

“I suppose.”

“Are you always so contrary?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

Her light breathing was the only sound besides the patter of rain against the roof. He inhaled and tried to let the air out quietly. Rustling told him she'd decided to take his advice and sit. He started to lean against the wall, but thought better of it. The whole shack might tumble down under his weight. His eyes began to adjust to the dark. She sat scrunched up in one corner, her knees up, arms around them. “I reckon that's true of everyone. Daed would say I have a stubborn streak a mile long and a tendency to get myself into trouble.”

“Really? I wouldn't have thought you were the trouble type.”

“I hope I've grown up a little and learned from my mistakes. You?”

“What mistakes?”

He chuckled. To his surprise, she joined him.