The Saddle Maker's Son Part 34

She wasn't jumpy, just not used to traveling in such close quarters with a man who had kissed her the way Tobias had. Did he think about it? She did. Morning, noon, and night.

"What was that noise?" Jesse swiveled. "Was that Mordecai?"

"Jah." Tobias laughed harder. "How does anyone in your house sleep, Rebekah?"

She squirmed. It wasn't that loud and she really didn't think it was a good idea for them to talk about sleeping arrangements in front of Jesse and an Englisch woman. She studied her hands. To sit so close to Tobias and yet feel so far from him was more than hard. It was excruciating.

"What's the matter?" His voice was barely a whisper. She glanced up. His hand slipped over the leather expanse between them, fingers outstretched. "Are you worried?"

She shook her head and glanced toward the front. No one was looking. Another snore told her Mordecai still slept. "Lupe knew something was up. She came to the bedroom door when I was slipping out this morning. She wanted to know where we were going."

"You didn't tell her, did you?"

"I told her we were going to see a lawyer about what to do for them. She wanted to come."

"She couldn't come."

"Nee."

"Is something else wrong? You seem so far away."

"I don't know what to think." She glanced at the front seat. Jesse was wide awake now. "About anything."

Or feel. This wasn't the time or place for discussion of a private nature. She leaned away from Tobias. "How is David?"

Word had spread about the split between David and Bobbie. Even though the Byler family had lived in the community only a short time, a collective sigh of relief had been heard from one corner to the other. "Moping around like he just lost the love of his life."

"You sound as if you're judging." He, of all people, had no right to judge. He had loved another, too, an Englisch woman with the nerve to have such a lovely name-Serena. "It takes time to get over a thing like that, as you well know."

"Nee, I'm not judging. I do know how he feels."

"Don't rub it in." Heat burned her cheeks. "I don't need to be reminded."

"I wasn't trying to rub it-"

"Karen, how did you get started helping these people from other countries?" Rebekah turned toward the front seat and lifted her voice to be heard over the noisy rush of AC air. "Do you drive all the way to San Antonio all the time to work with them?"

"A few times a week, usually. My base is in Karnes County, though." Karen's face framed by tight, dark curls appeared in the rearview mirror for a fleeting second. "My parents are Mennonites. The home we're visiting is run by Mennonites."

Mennonites. They were a lot like Amish, only different. That's what Mordecai said. With her suit and her SUV, she didn't look anything like Amish. "You're Mennonite?"

"Born and raised. I still go to services when I get back home to Bastrop."

"What does that have to do with the . . ." Tobias seemed to be searching for a word. "Immigrants like Lupe and Diego's father?"

"The Interfaith Welcome Coalition includes people from different churches like Methodist, Catholic, Presbyterians, Quakers, and Mennonites." She smiled in the mirror. "Different faiths banded together to help."

"How did Carlos seem to you?" Rebekah leaned forward to hear over Mordecai's snores. "You said he seemed troubled. Did he tell you what was on his mind?"

"He didn't say much. I gave him a food voucher and a prepaid disposable cell phone. And some printed materials in Spanish-information on legal options. That's what we do for all of them."

"You didn't ask him who those people were in the photo?"

"It was obvious from the look on his face. People important to him. Family. He missed them."

A tick, tick sound told Rebekah that Karen had put on the turn signal. They were exiting the highway. Rebekah pressed her face to the window and watched as the scenery turned from high-rise buildings and stores to houses. It didn't seem to take too long before they turned into the driveway of an older two-story house painted a soft yellow color faded with age. "We're here." Karen put the SUV in park and snapped off her seat belt. "Luz, one of the volunteers, said she saw Carlos a couple of times last week. He's been coming by now and then to visit with a mom from El Salvador who's staying here with her three kids. Men can't stay in this house overnight. It is only for women and children. He seems to be living on the street."

Living on the street. What a strange way to put it. Lupe and Diego's father had no house to sleep in, no money, no job. Where did people like him who were hiding from immigration go? "So he might come here today to visit her?"

"If he does, it will be in the evening. She thinks he hires out with the other day laborers downtown when he can get work."

Karen led the way into the house. Rebekah hung back, letting the men go first. Mordecai smiled and patted her shoulder. "A lot to take in, isn't it?"

"I can't believe we might meet Lupe and Diego's father."

"Are you happy or sad about that?"

Mordecai had a way of getting to the core of problems. "Both, I guess."

"Understandable."

Was it? Or selfish? Lupe and Diego had managed to worm their way into her heart. She would miss them if they left with their daed, but it was best for them. Wasn't it? Would they live on the street too? Or would they be allowed to stay in this Mennonite house until they had a place to go? Would they be sent back to their country with their father after he had his hearing? The questions pressed on her, heavy with uncertainty. Her neck ached.

The house was crowded with furniture and toys. The walls were painted a pale blue that made it seem happy somehow. Kinner played with blocks in one corner. A baby cried in a playpen. The mouthwatering aroma of food cooking-beans, maybe, with bell peppers and onions and garlic-floated in the air. Rebekah tried not to stare at the women who sat at a table filling out forms and talking softly in that same singsong Spanish Lupe and Diego used when they were jabbering, just the two of them.

"Here she is. This is Angelica Sanchez." Karen pointed to the arm of a thin woman with dark hair pulled back in a long ponytail. She stood at the kitchen table chopping tomatoes. Karen p.r.o.nounced her name with a soft g. "She knows Carlos Martinez."

The woman nodded but didn't stop chopping. Nor did she smile. In fact, her eyes filled with tears. Karen spoke to her in Spanish. The woman responded with a torrent of Spanish that was too much, too fast for Rebekah to comprehend. Karen's smile faded. She glanced at them and then away.

"What is it? What is she saying?" Jesse's expression said he saw the same thing she did. "Can you translate?"

"It's too fast. I'm not getting it."

Rebekah squeezed between Tobias and Karen, trying to get closer to hear better. It didn't help. The woman's distress was obvious, though. Anguish bled through every word. She dropped the knife. Her hands flailed, punctuating her words. Karen stopped her a few times, interjecting questions, her expression perturbed at first and then horrified.

"What is it? What's she saying?"

Karen patted the woman's arm and thanked her. "Lo siento. Lo siento mucho."

I'm sorry. I'm very sorry.

Karen put an arm around Rebekah and drew her away as the woman picked up the knife and went back to chopping tomatoes, her face once again stoic.

"What happened?"

"In the other room."

They followed her into the living room where Karen sank into a couch and drew Rebekah down next to her. A woman feeding a bottle to her baby eyed them with curiosity, then rose and padded away on bare feet. Karen shoved her gla.s.ses up her nose and sighed. "I'm afraid the news isn't good."

"We gathered that much." Mordecai dropped into a rocking chair and clasped his hands in front of him. "Something happened to him?"

"He's dead."

The words seemed foreign. It took seconds for them to sink in. It couldn't be. Not after they'd come all this way. After he'd come all this way. And Lupe and Diego. They had no parents now. Only the grandma who'd sent them here for a better life.

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Rebekah pushed aside the pillow next to her and the smell of wet diaper that emanated from it. "How can that be? How does she know?"

"Carlos hadn't been around for a few days. He was supposed to come see Angelica. She tried calling him on the cell phone we gave him. No answer. She was worried, but there was nothing she could do. No way to find him. She thought he'd lost interest."

"He was interested in her?"

"They were trying to find a way to stay together."

Lupe and Diego's father had found love-or the beginning of love-in America and the hope of a new life. The lump grew. Rebekah breathed through the ache that spread through her chest. She would not cry in front of everyone. "What happened?"

"A homicide detective from the police department showed up yesterday." Her gaze downcast, Karen smoothed a wrinkle in her gray slacks. "Carlos had paperwork on his . . . person with the address here on it. The detective showed around a photo of him and wanted to know who knew him. Being afraid of law enforcement, as they all are, Angelica denied it at first. She's so afraid of being deported-"

"What happened?" This time Jesse interjected with the question. "Homicide. He was murdered?"

Karen nodded. "I'm so sorry. They found him near a highway overpa.s.s where a lot of the homeless people sleep at night. He'd been beaten and bashed in the head with a tire iron or something like that."

Bile rose in the back of Rebekah's throat. Her stomach heaved. She put her hands against it, willing her breakfast to stay down. Tobias sank onto the couch next to her. He didn't touch her, but she felt his presence like a warm, sure hug.

He sighed. "Why?"

"Why? Who knows? He had something someone wanted. A pack of cigarettes. A soda. He wouldn't give it up. It doesn't take much when people are desperate."

No one spoke for several seconds. The sound of children giggling mingled with voices speaking in Spanish on a TV in the corner that no one seemed to be watching. A woman called to another. Something about lunch being ready in a few minutes. Normal, everyday sounds.

"They'll try to find who did this?" Mordecai posed the question. "It seems a person should be punished for it."

"They'll try, but folks who live on the street are the see-nothing, hear-nothing, know-nothing kind. It's safer not to know anything."

"What will happen to his . . . to him?" Rebekah managed to get the question out without a quiver in her voice. "He has no one to bury him."

"The county will take care of it."

"A pauper's burial." Jesse's jaw worked. He clasped his hands so tightly, his knuckles turned white. "No one to mourn."

Karen didn't answer, but her face spoke volumes.

"We should go home." Mordecai stood. "There's nothing we can do here."

"I have a couple of things to take care of first, if you don't mind waiting a few minutes." Karen rubbed red eyes. "It's lunchtime. You could stay and eat with the families. There's always plenty."

Rebekah's stomach roiled. "I'm really not hungry."

"I don't think any of us wants to eat right now." Tobias eased from the couch. "I could use a breath of fresh air while you take care of your business."

Rebekah wanted that fresh air too. With Tobias. "Can I go outside too?" She directed the question to Mordecai, feeling as if she were nine years old.

His gaze went to Tobias, but he nodded. "Don't go too far. I'm anxious to be away from here and get back to the country."

Rebekah joined him in that desire. She followed Tobias through the living room. Something made her stop at the screen door to look back. Jesse was engaged in a deep conversation with a woman who held a sleeping baby in her arms. He knelt at her feet, his expression earnest, his voice soft. The woman gestured at her child and then at the ceiling.

"Are you coming?" Tobias paused on the other side of the screen, his features obscured by the netting.

"Jah."

She joined him on the porch swing. The yard was tiny, but someone had spent a great deal of time planting yellow, orange, and red flowers. They were sun lovers that arched toward the sky as if seeking summer. Flowers that embraced the South Texas heat. A nice view to take a person's mind from her troubles.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" She glanced at Tobias. Sadness etched lines around his mouth and eyes. "It's not your fault."

"I know how you wanted this to end with a happily ever after."

"I'm not a silly girl. I know better than to expect happily ever after." She also knew what it was like to lose a parent. Lupe was even younger than she'd been when her daed left the earth. "It's just that they've been through so much."

"They have. Too much for kinner so young."

"It makes me wonder what Gott's plan is for them."

"But not to question that He has one."

She rubbed at a stain on her ap.r.o.n. "I believe, if that's what you're asking me."

"So do I, even when it seems impossible to see the gut in something so heinous." His hand slipped over hers. His fingers, warm and strong, squeezed. "I do see the gut in you. So much gut. A gut heart. You will be a gut mudder."

His praise melted the hard knot of anger and fear of the future that had been barricaded in her heart since Leila ran away with Jesse, leaving her alone and lonely. All her hopes and dreams seemed within reach again. "I'm happy you think so."

"I know so. I can see you running after the kinner, shaking a rolling pin at them and warning them to be on their best behavior when groosmammi and groosdaaddi come for supper."

She smiled at the image. "Are you in this picture too?"

The question came out with no thought to how it would sound.

"I am if you'll let me be, if you'll forgive me for losing my way for a while. If I had known you were waiting, I would've come sooner."

His fingers squeezed again. She sniffed against tears that couldn't be allowed to fall. "I was thinking that if you hadn't been . . . in love with the Englisch girl, you wouldn't have come here and we never would've met."

"Gott's plan then?"

"Maybe. It helps to think of it that way. What else do you see in that picture you're imagining?"

"I see Lupe and Diego in the picture."

She closed her eyes. She saw them too. Diego playing kickball with Hazel. Lupe helping Hazel make her favorite snickerdoodle cookies. "Me too."