The Saddle Maker's Son Part 25

"Don't run, please don't run. Rebekah misses you." Tobias hurled himself from the van and ran across the littered parking lot. "Liam and Hazel miss you."

Lupe planted herself in front of her brother, her arms behind her as if s.h.i.+elding him from danger. "We go."

"Stay. Let us help you. Jesse can help you."

She shook her head. "We go."

"You haven't yet." Jesse stopped next to Tobias. "Because you don't know how to go north on the road to San Antonio without getting caught. Let us help you."

"Como?"

"There's a place called the Humanitarian Respite Center." Jesse edged closer, both hands out as if offering her something tangible. "They take refugees and help them find places to stay until their immigration hearings."

Jesse spoke as if Lupe would understand these Englisch words. Tobias held out his hand, praying Lupe would trust him enough to take it. Trust him more than Jesse, whom she had never met. "Let them come see Rebekah first. She can talk to them."

Jesse nodded. "We can do that."

"Come with us. To Rebekah and Liam and Ida and Hazel." Tobias c.o.c.ked his head toward the van. "It's Fourth of July. We're having hot dogs and ice cream."

"Ice cream." Apparently this was a word Diego understood. He still had the half-eaten hamburger from the Dumpster in one dirty hand. "Hot dog."

Tobias fought the urge to grab the greasy wrapper and toss it back in the trash. "Let us help you."

Diego scaled the Dumpster and balanced himself on the edge, one dirty leg dangling over it. The knees of his pants were torn. He had skinned his knees at some point. Scabs showed through. He tossed the hamburger to Lupe, who caught it without taking her gaze from Jesse. Diego dropped to the ground, dodged his sister, and trotted toward Tobias. "Liam?"

"Liam and the others are waiting to shoot their fireworks with you."

"He no like." Lupe slid the hamburger into her knapsack. "Sound like gun, bang-bang."

"But he's safe with us."

"No safe anywhere."

Such a world-weary voice for such a young girl. Tobias's heart wrenched. "Not true. We can keep you safe. Diego, where's Pedro?"

Diego's face crumpled. He wiped at his dirty face with a dirtier hand. "He gone."

"Gone?"

"Run away."

Diego buried his head in Tobias's leg. He smelled of sweat, garbage, and dirt, just as he had that first night. "It's fine . . . you're fine." He rubbed the boy's thin shoulders and matted hair. "We'll take you home, give you a bath, and feed you."

Food that didn't come from a Dumpster.

A siren whooped and screamed, cutting the thick, humid air. Red and blue lights whirled, reflected against the restaurant gla.s.s in a wild, dizzying pattern. Lupe's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. "La migra!"

She shot toward the street. Tobias unfurled his other arm and grabbed her as she pa.s.sed him. She struggled like a sc.r.a.ppy alley cat, fierce and angry, but she didn't have the strength to break free. "No, no."

Her teeth bit into his wrist. Pain shot up his arm. "Hey, hey." He managed to hang on. "Don't do that!"

"Me go, me go."

"Stay." Diego's weak, barefooted kicks banged against his s.h.i.+ns. "It's okay, it's okay, I promise."

"Let me have him." Jesse knelt next to Tobias and laid a hand on the boy. "Tobias is right. We'll help you. We won't abandon you."

"No, no!" Lupe shrieked. "They take us!"

A man so rotund his uniform b.u.t.tons looked as if they were in danger of shooting across the parking lot shoved open his door and hoisted himself from the sheriff's car with an audible grunt. He had a face as smooth and white as a baby's bottom. When he finally unfolded himself, he stood well above Tobias and Jesse. A mammoth man with all manner of armaments on his heavy black belt-a gun, a baton, a stun gun of some sort, and a radio that cackled with static, the microphone attached to a strap on his shoulder. Just the sort to scare young children who had an understandable fear of uniforms.

"What's going on here?" His meaty hand rested on the b.u.t.t of his revolver. "A little Dumpster diving?"

"Wally?"

"Pastor?"

"You know you're not supposed to call me that!" Jesse stood. He picked up Diego and settled him on his hip as if the boy weighed nothing. "I just give the message when Pastor Dan can't. This here is Diego, and that's my friend Tobias and Diego's sister, Lupe."

Wally's head seemed to bob from person to person as he took in the introductions. His hat looked too tight and his wrinkled forehead suggested it hurt. "You do a fine job behind the pulpit."

Still stuck back on how he knew Jesse. The man took his time digesting situations, apparently.

Lupe tried to wiggle free of his grasp. Tobias hugged her against his chest. "It's okay. He's a friend of Jesse's."

"Polica."

"Yes, but police aren't bad." Not most of the time. Not in America. "We'll explain and he'll understand."

Tobias had almost no experience with police. He hoped he wasn't telling the girl a tall tale.

"So are these chiquitos runaways?" Wally leaned against the b.u.mper of his car. It groaned and sank under his weight.

Tobias let Jesse give the man an abbreviated version of the events that had led them to this moment outside a Dumpster in a fast-food restaurant parking lot. When Jesse paused for breath, Tobias jumped in. "My family's willing to care for them until their hearing. We want to get something set up so we can get it resolved, so they're not running around alone out on the street."

He stopped and waited. The sheriff's deputy frowned and chewed on his thumbnail. He studied his boots and s.h.i.+fted his weight. The car's suspension sounded as if it were crying. Lupe fidgeted. Tobias patted her arm, aware of the throbbing where her bite had left marks on his wrist.

"I don't know, Pastor Jesse. We have strict orders to turn any illegals over to ICE posthaste." He s.h.i.+fted. The car groaned again. "They pay us overtime. Operation Border Star from the feds. We get money to do this. You're not supposed to help these kids. You're supposed to turn them in. Don't you read the paper? Sheriff says they could be terrorists."

"These are children. And they're alone and they're hungry and tired and they don't have a place to lay their heads at night." Jesse patted Diego's dirty hair. "Does this look like the face of a terrorist? I reckon he's about the age of your Matthew, don't you think?"

"Maybe. But Sheriff says we have to take care of ourselves. He says these kids coming across the border are a way to clog things up in the US." Wally fidgeted in much the same way as Lupe. He wrinkled his nose and studied the ground some more. "We had a meeting with folks here in town the other day, and they was real concerned because their barns are getting broken into and stuff stolen. Fences broken."

"We no steal." Lupe drew herself up tall, her face fierce. "We no steal from no one."

"No offense." Wally held up a hand. "But the sheriff tells the folks here to take care of themselves. That's the number-one priority."

"Is that what Jesus would say?" Jesse's tone was kind. He settled onto the edge of the car next to the deputy and tucked Diego on his lap. "Look at this little boy and then tell me what Jesus would do."

Wally's expression was troubled. He lifted his hat and scratched his forehead. His bald head shone in the setting sun. "Oh man, Pastor, you got to lay that one on me?"

"We don't learn Scripture in the church in Sunday school and then leave it there, do we?"

Wally ducked his head and plucked at a thread on his pant leg. "No, sir, we don't."

"Don't sir me. You know better. Just like you know the story about when the disciples wanted to take the children away and Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me.' You know that story, Wally."

"I do, I do."

"Well then?"

Wally sighed, a mournful sigh. Tobias had to hand it to Jesse Glick. He knew his stuff and he knew people. Wally hoisted himself up and slapped his hat back on his head. "What did you have in mind?"

"Take us out to Tobias's place. Let the kinner stay there for a day or two. Tomorrow I'll try to get through to the Office of Refugee Resettlement in the Valley. I'll take it from there, I promise."

The big man sighed.

"After you get off s.h.i.+ft tonight, you should come by the house. Leila made her famous lemon meringue pie today. The crust melts in your mouth."

"Are you trying to bribe a law enforcement official, Pastor Jesse?" Wally patted his potbelly, which hung over his belt to an alarming degree. "I'm surprised you didn't offer a dozen donuts."

"I know you like my wife's pie better."

"How about a compromise?"

Jesse glanced at Tobias. Tobias shrugged. The sheriff's deputy held all the cards. They'd only just now found the kinner. They couldn't lose them again that quickly. Could they?

"What did you have in mind?"

"No offense to you, sir, but I don't know you from Adam." Wally nodded at Tobias, then slapped his meaty hand on his chest with a thump that would've knocked a lesser man to the ground. "What do you say we take these kiddos out to the farm to see your family and enjoy the holiday? Then they come on back to town to stay with Pastor Jesse and his wife until we get this all straightened out. What do you say to that?"

Lupe shrank against Tobias's chest. Now she saw him as an ally. He rubbed his wrist, thankful she hadn't broken the skin. "We'd rather have them stay with us. They'd rather stay with us. If it's the best you can do, then we'll take it."

Jesse slapped Wally's arm. "Thanks, pal. We'll take care of them. We won't let them out of sight."

"You've got a deal." Wally opened his car door. "But just so you know, don't you kids try any funny stuff. I'm giving you a special pa.s.s here. I expect you to honor that and not try to run away."

"We no run." Lupe crowded against Tobias. She smelled like her brother. They both would get baths tonight before slipping into Leila's clean sheets. "You no use gun."

"No guns." Wally smiled at her. "My daughter Kara will tell you my bark is worse than my bite."

Unfortunately, Lupe-who could deliver a severe bite of her own when she felt threatened-had other experiences in her short life. Ones Wally's daughter would never have to know. Tobias waited until the deputy got in and shut his door to lead Lupe to the van. "Put your seat belt on. Jesse is a crazy driver. It comes from starting out as Plain folk."

He had no idea if she understood. Her perplexed expression said no. "Sorry I bite."

She did look properly downcast. "It's okay. I'm tough. In fact, I hope you don't come down with something. Biting me can be a dangerous proposition."

Again the perplexed expression. "Let's go get you a hot dog."

And a way to stay in America.

THIRTY-ONE.

Butch's howling did nothing to drown out the sporadic rat-a-tat-tat of the firecrackers. Caleb and the other boys were going crazy with their stash of fireworks. They would be shot up before dark. Susan opened the kitchen screen door and let the poor hund inside. Abigail would frown on it, but she was busy cranking the ice cream maker on the front porch. Fourth of July festivities were in full swing. Plain folks had much for which to be thankful when it came to the freedoms their ancestors had not been afforded in their previous homelands before escaping the persecution by coming to the New World. It was good to be reminded.

It also reminded Susan of Lupe and Diego. Had the kinner found safe haven in another place? She shuddered to think what they must be going through out there in their new world all alone. Barely speaking the language. She picked up the washcloth and put it down. Butch whined. She swiped a ham bone left over from supper the previous evening and deposited it on an old platter. She set it on the floor next to the back door. Butch grinned. She was sure of it.

"You're a spoiled old hund, you know that, right?"

"Talking to the hund now, are you?" Martha trotted through the doorway that led from the front room, a pot of baked beans in her oven-mitt-clad hands. "Someone will think you've lost your marbles."

"And they would be right. Let me take that."

"I splattered the juice on my ap.r.o.n. Daed insisted on driving the wagon." Martha handed over the pot. "We were all over the place. I think he hit every rut in the road. Of course, he wouldn't admit how much it hurt his legs and his hip."

"He's here, then?" The words were out before Susan could reel them in. Of course Levi was here. On crutches, bruised, and battered, but able to stand upright. "I mean, how is he?"

"Hurting, but too bullheaded to admit it." Martha grabbed a washrag and dabbed at the splotches on her ap.r.o.n, an action that only served to make a bigger mess. "I heard him stumbling around in the dark last night. I got up to help him and he nearly bit my head off."

"That's just like a man."

"The doctor wanted him to use a wheelchair and he refused. Said it cost too much." Martha sounded aggrieved. "If he falls and has to go back into the hospital, it'll cost a lot more than a wheelchair, but you can't tell him that."

"Men are terrible patients." Susan didn't really feel the need to say anything. She'd been in Martha's shoes. The younger woman simply needed to vent to someone who would understand. "Just ignore his crankiness and do what needs to be done."

"Men are what?" Jacob strode through the back door, one hand held high.

"Not the brightest."

"Hogwash." Jacob held out his hand. "Burned my fingers lighting a sparkler for Hazel."

"It's too light still for sparklers." Susan studied the hand. What wasn't dirty was red. She grinned at Martha. "See what I mean?"

Martha's gaze didn't connect with Susan's and she didn't seem to hear her speak. Her natural peaches-and-cream complexion had gone rosy. She ducked her head, dropped the washrag, bent to pick it up, and kept her head down as if trying to hide her face.

"Water is the best I can do." Susan bustled to the tub sitting on the counter. "They bought ice to make the ice cream, but it's already in use."

"That's okay." Jacob's tone was distracted, his gaze on the back of Martha's head. "I don't know why I came in. It doesn't hurt at all."

He tugged his hand from her grasp, whirled, and stalked toward the door. At the last moment he stopped and looked back. "We're planning to play volleyball in a while. You should play."