The Saddle Maker's Son Part 17

"That's the last of the tomatoes." Rebekah bustled along behind Susan, adding flats and rings to the steaming jars. "How are the green beans coming?"

"Everything is snapped." Abigail wiped her hands on a ragged dish towel, her face flushed with the heat of the propane stove mixed with humid May air. Summer had arrived on the first day of the month with a ferocity usually reserved for July in South Texas. As if Gott knew a canning frolic was afoot. "The girls are chopping cuc.u.mbers for the pickles now."

Hazel stuck a cuc.u.mber slice in her mouth and crunched. "I'd rather eat them." She giggled, further mashing her words through a full mouth. "Pickles are a lot of work."

"But they're mighty good with a hamburger." Abigail patted the little girl's kapp-covered head. "So stop eating them and start chopping. You'll be glad you did next winter."

Despite the heat and the sweat, Susan loved canning frolics. Having all her favorite women in the same room-crowded though it was-meant lots of chatter and laughter. Different from school where quiet was priceless. Plus, she had a chance to let someone else be in charge. She could relax and not worry about being responsible for the kinner. Canning vegetables was much easier.

"Sorry we're late." Martha Byler stuck her head in the door. The girl looked like Tobias in the face, but without the five-o'clock shadow. The hair peeking from the back of her kapp was dark blonde and her eyes blue. "Nyla was running a fever this morning. I made some chicken soup and left her with Ida reading Little House on the Prairie to her."

"I love those books. The Long Winter is my favorite." Susan's opportunity to keep her commitment to talk to Levi's oldest daughter had arrived, right on time, and she was talking about books. She couldn't help herself, it seemed.

"I like them all." Martha didn't seem to mind. "And the girls love for me to read to them."

Susan couldn't help but smile at that. Her teacher heart was happy to hear it. She trotted across the room to the table, picked up a knife, and held it out. "Last woman in has to chop the onions."

Accepting the offer, Martha smiled and shooed Lupe and little Liam into the room. "I don't mind onions, especially when that means pickles later on."

"Where's Diego?" Susan patted Lupe's shoulders. The girl settled into a chair next to Hazel. "Working with the men?"

"With Milo, tilling the s.p.a.ce we'll use for the garden," Martha answered for Lupe, who ducked her head, a shy grin on her brown face. "He likes playing in dirt and we're way behind in our planting."

"I like playing in the dirt too." Susan liked gardening. Gott was good. She handed a small paring knife to Lupe. "Cut the cuc.u.mbers in chunks before Hazel eats them all."

Lupe looked puzzled, but she took the knife.

"Have you ever seen anyone can before?"

The girl shrugged, her eyebrows lifted.

"We cook the tomatoes, put them in jars, and seal them so we can eat them in the winter."

Lupe nodded, but Susan could tell she didn't understand. It didn't matter. She probably would be long gone before winter. The thought made her heart squeeze. Jesse hadn't gotten back to Will yet, but he surely would any day now. "How do you say hot in Spanish?" She pointed to the stove. When all else fails, do what comes naturally. Teach. "Hot."

"Caliente." Lupe obliged. "Estufa est caliente."

"Estufa est caliente," Susan repeated. "Everyone now."

The ladies repeated the phrase in chorus, Hazel trailing behind by a word or two. Liam yelled, "Caliente!" after everyone had finished, only it sounded like "cold tea." They all laughed.

Susan squeezed into a chair next to Martha and picked up a huge onion. The greenhouse vegetables had done well this year. She plopped it on the cutting board and picked up another knife. "How are you settling in here in Bee County?"

Martha wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. "These are some strong onions." She giggled. "Good. We're doing fine. The house needs some work, but Daed and the boys are busy setting up the shop. That's more important right now."

"Do you need any help? We could organize a frolic. Help clean the place up, plant the garden."

Martha flashed a smile. Susan got a glimpse of what Levi's wife must've looked like. "That would be nice. Ida and Nyla help as much as they can, but they're still small. Between the laundry and the cooking and the baking . . ." Her cheeks turned red. "I don't mean to complain. I love taking care of them."

"I didn't think you were complaining." Susan got to work on her own onion, careful to keep her voice light. "It's a lot of work for any of us. Everyone needs a little help now and then."

She separated the onion into nice rings. "In fact, I was thinking I could make dinner for your family Sunday night at your house and you could come to the singing here at our house. My treat."

Martha frowned, her nose wrinkled. "Did Daed put you up to this?"

"He just wants you to have the same fun other girls your age have."

"Why's he in such a hurry to marry me off?" She smacked the onion with more force than necessary. "Who does he think will take care of Liam and Nyla-"

"He's not in a hurry." Susan touched her arm. "Believe me, he's not. The fact that he wants you to have this time in your life speaks to how much affection he has for you. He wants what's best for you. What's meant to be for you as Gott's child."

Tears brightened the girl's eyes. She sniffed. "I think maybe Gott intended for me to take care of my schweschders and bruders."

"For a while, but not forever. They're getting old enough to take care of themselves and each other. To help you too."

Martha sighed. The knife hung in the air as if she'd forgotten it in her contemplation of her future, surely an uncertain and scary proposition for a sixteen-year-old.

The sound of someone banging on the door startled them into silence. Simon stumbled through the back door. He looked so much like his brother Jesse, but his face would never lose its childlike innocence. Gott had given Leroy and Naomi the gift of a special child. His hat flopped and hit the floor. "There you are, Martha. I looked for you at your house. Levi got thrown from a horse. He's headed to the hospital. Tobias sent me to tell you."

"Is he hurt? Is it bad?" Susan stood. The knife dropped to the table with a clatter. "We need to-"

"Where is he?" Martha's face had turned as white as the onion in her hand. She dropped it and it rolled across the floor and disappeared under the stove. "Is he dead?"

"He's not dead. We don't know how bad he is, though. He wasn't talking and his eyes were closed." Simon's inability to find words was worse when he was under stress. He scooped up his hat and slapped it on his head with more force than necessary. "An ambulance took him to Beeville. Mr. Carson is out front with his van to take y'all."

"Is Tobias all right? Was he there?" Rebekah took Liam's hand. "Was he hurt?"

"Tobias is fine. So is David. They're on their way to the hospital." Simon turned as if to lead the way. He'd been given a job to do and he was trying very hard to do it to the best of his ability. "Hurry up. Let's go, then."

Susan turned to Abigail, who was staring at Rebekah with a bemused look on her face. Susan touched her sleeve. "We'll all go."

"I'll stay with the canning. We can't have all this food spoil." Abigail gave Martha a swift hug. "I'll pray."

Praying would be their job, in the van and at the hospital. That's what the community did when trouble visited. She'd barely had a chance to begin to know Levi. The force of her desire to know him more stunned her. Susan took a breath. This wasn't about her. His kinner had lost a mother. They couldn't lose their father too. She put an arm around Martha. "We'll go together."

TWENTY-TWO.

The doctors weren't saying much. Tobias fought the urge to pound his fist against the waiting room wall. An hour they'd been waiting and still nothing. He rubbed his fingers over his fisted hand and forced himself to relax it. The kinner were watching. They would take his lead. They'd lost so much already. They needed Daed. He needed Daed. He swallowed the pain in his throat and forced a breath. Whatever came, Martha, Micah, Rueben, David, Milo, Nyla, Ida, and Liam would look to him for how to handle it. His job was to rely on Gott in all things.

Mordecai strode into the room, his face etched with concern. He eased into the chair next to Tobias. "Any word from the doctors?"

"Nee."

"Waiting is hard."

"It is."

"I understand, having lived through something similar."

"I've heard bits and pieces of it."

Mordecai shoved his hat back and leaned his head against the wall behind them. "The van accident that took my fraa's life and left Phineas hanging by a thread. The younger kinner had sc.r.a.pes and little wounds, but nothing so bad I couldn't take them home at the end of the day. We weren't in this hospital. We were down in Corpus, but they're all the same. They smell the same. They sound the same."

Tobias knew those sounds, the ticking of the clock, the wheels of the gurneys clacking down tiled hallways, the beep of monitors. He knew the smells. The acrid smell of cleansers. The smell of sickness. The smell of despair. They were branded on his memory. He needed only to close his eyes to be reminded of the sights. Daed leaning over Mudder's still form, his hand on her limp body. His eyes red with tears. "When Mudder died we spent a few hours in the hospital up north, but she was gone so sudden it wasn't much."

"I waited hours while they worked on Phineas, trying to keep him alive." Mordecai's voice roughened. His Adam's apple bobbed. "I know how it feels."

"Daed is fine. He'll be fine."

"Gott's will be done."

The heat of a painful flush scurried across Tobias's face and neck. He hadn't thought to pray in the moments between the horse's reaction to the saddle and the arrival of the ambulance, paramedics putting a brace around Daed's neck and strapping him to a board, the long trip into town while they poked and prodded his daed, hooking him up to IVs, checking his vital signs, a.s.sessing his injuries in words Tobias couldn't begin to understand. All he knew for sure was that Daed never opened his eyes. He never moved a limb of his own accord. Tobias bowed his head and tried to summon the words. Help. Don't take him. I need him. The words were spa.r.s.e and selfish, but they were the only words that came. Forgive me. I was right there, yet I couldn't protect him. The kinner need him. I can't take care of them without him. Please.

"I'm so sorry."

He opened his eyes and raised his head. Bobbie stood before them. Her face was tearstained and her hands and knees were dirty. He shook his head. "It's not your fault."

He'd been right there and yet couldn't save his own father. If it was anyone's fault, it was his.

"I feel responsible. He's my horse."

"My father trains horses for a living. He's broken hundreds of them. He knows the risk and accepts it." Words he should be saying to himself. "It's no one's fault."

"I can't understand why Cracker Jack reacted that way. He's a good horse."

"Like you said, something in his past. Something his old owner did. Who knows? But it's not your fault. My dad wouldn't want you stewing about it."

"You're nice to say that." She plopped down in the chair next to Tobias and squeezed his hand. Tobias could feel Mordecai's tension next to him. The older man's entire body stiffened. "If you need anything at all, you let me know. My father can get the best doctors, the best surgeons. He'll pay. Don't you worry. This is workers' comp. It was an on-the-job injury."

Plain folks didn't have insurance, but they took care of their own. "That's nice of you, but not necessary."

Bobbie tucked a piece of pink paper in his hand and folded his fingers around it. Her fingers were warm and damp. "My phone number if you need me."

Mordecai cleared his throat, his expression stern.

A flurry of activity at the door cut him off, to Tobias's relief. Susan, Rebekah, and Martha trotted into the room in quick succession, their faces etched with worry. Jeremiah followed, along with Will and Simon. Word spread quickly in the small community. Everyone would gather. Prayers would be offered. Rebekah put an arm around Martha and whispered something in her ear. Susan picked up Liam and marched toward them, her face red with heat and exertion. Rebekah followed, her arm still around Martha.

He had no one who could offer him that comfort. He closed his eyes and opened them. The women stood in front of him. "How is he? Where is he?" Susan beat Martha to the questions by a hairsbreadth from the look on his schweschder's face. "What do the doctors say?"

"We don't know much." Tobias searched for words. They seemed mired in emotion he didn't want to reveal. "The doctor is looking at him now."

Rebekah moved forward. She opened her mouth, then glanced at Bobbie.

Tobias stood. "This is Bobbie McGregor. She's a customer."

"Levi was breaking my horse when he got hurt." Bobbie's voice quavered. She pulled herself up from the chair. "I'll let y'all talk. I know this is a family thing. Especially with y'all."

Her head bent, she brushed past Rebekah, who swiveled and watched her disappear through the door before turning back to Tobias. "Is she all right?"

"Feeling bad about what happened, I reckon that's all."

"You sound . . . parched. Can I get you some water?"

"I'm fine."

"Y'all best have a seat." Mordecai's voice held a warning tone that seemed to be directed at Susan. "It'll be a while, I reckon. Spend the time in prayer."

Susan's face flushed a darker red. She turned away with Liam still in her arms. "I'll take care of the little ones."

"I'll help her." Martha, her face a startling white in comparison, followed Susan. She looked as if she were sleepwalking. "I'll pray."

She needed comfort. He should be the one to give it. He started after her, but his legs felt heavy. His boots stumbled on the thick carpet.

"No sense in getting worked up. Gott will hear our prayers."

Mordecai's voice pulled him back into his chair. Prayer. That was the most important thing right now.

Mordecai closed his eyes, pulled his hat down over his face, and leaned his head against the wall, the picture of a man who left everything in G.o.d's hands.

Rebekah plopped into the chair next to Tobias, her fresh, clean scent welcome after the stench of hospital. "We prayed all the way over here. Gott is good. You don't need to worry about a thing. We'll help. School's out now and Susan wants to do the cooking. I can help the girls with the garden. Caleb will help. All of us."

"We appreciate that. My daed will rest easy knowing everyone is pitching in."

"Gott provides."

"He does." The words stuck in his throat. Why did Gott let this happen? It was the same question he'd asked when Mudder pa.s.sed in the midst of the life-affirming act of giving birth. It made no sense to him. What if Gott's will was to take his father and leave him in charge of eight kinner? What kind of Gott did that? "I'm just . . ." His throat tightened. "Maybe I do need that water."

She popped up. "I'll get it."

His head filled with the sickening sound of hoof crunching bone. Rebekah's hand touched his sleeve. "Maybe you should walk with me. You look like you need air."

He glanced at Mordecai. The older man nodded. "It'll do you good to stretch your legs." His gaze went to Rebekah. "Fresh air does a body good as well."

Tobias stood. His legs felt weak. He lurched. Rebekah's hand came out again. "You have blood on your sleeve. We'll have to wash that soon."

We. The image of Rebekah sorting laundry and tossing shirts into the wringer wash machine filled his mind's eye. The thought, as far-fetched as it might be at this moment, comforted him. "Jah. Martha will fix it."

"Come on. I saw the water fountain as I came in." She c.o.c.ked her head toward the hallway. "We'll come right back."

He might not want to come back to bad news. He could stay away. He wouldn't be alone. He'd be with Rebekah Lantz.