Cara slid through the barely open barn door while keeping her eye on the horse and wagon as it headed down the road. The man who did the talking was every bit as cold and personable as winter with a tattered coat. She’d seen it too many times before—good-looking, strong men as unfeeling and heartless as the dead. “Come on, sweetie. We’ve got to go.”
“No, Mom. Come look.”
One glance at Lori erased a bit of stress and fatigue. It felt odd to grin, but the furry black pups, already weighing about five pounds, were sprawled across her daughter’s lap, sleeping soundly while she petted them.
Lori gazed up at her. “We can’t leave. They like me.”
Was that a trace of awe and excitement in her daughter’s eyes and voice?
Cara knelt beside her and stroked a puppy “They’re real nice, Lorabean, but we can’t stay here. Heartless Man might come back.”
“Please, Mom.” Lori’s brown eyes reflected a desire so strong, so hopeful, as if every empty promise the Santas of the world offered at Christmas could be salvaged by granting her this one request.
Cara sat cross-leggedly, wondering what it could possibly hurt to give Lori a few hours with the puppies. Besides, they had to sleep somewhere tonight. Glancing around the place, she noticed rusted pitchforks, ten-gallon tubs, and moldy bales of hay A decaying wagon sat in a corner with painters tarps, ropes, and a watering can. The tin roof had sections missing.
The barn side of a silo caught her attention. She went over to it and tugged on the door, almost falling when it finally opened. Clearly the door had been closed for a long time. If the man came back, she and Lori could hide inside. He’d never think to look in there. When they were on the road, they’d crossed a small bridge not far from here, so the creek had to run nearby. That meant water to drink, wash up in, and brush their teeth with. If she could get the two days’ worth of traveling grime washed off of her and Lori, she might be able to sleep—even if she was in a dirty barn.
A piece of tin standing against the wall rattled and shifted. An older dog walked out from behind it. After one glimpse at Cara, the mama dog lowered her head and tucked her tail between her legs.
Cara knelt, motioning for her. “I know just how you feel. But you can’t go around acting like it.” The old dog came to her and stood still while Cara rubbed her short black hair. “If you act all sad and dumped on, people get meaner. Don’t you know that by now?”
The dog wagged her tail. As if sensing their mom’s presence, the puppies woke and started whining and going to her. She licked Cara’s hand and then moved to a corner and lay down, letting the pups nurse.
“What’re they doing, Mom?”
Cara pulled the sack of bagels out of Lori’s backpack. “They’re nursing. That means they’re getting milk from their mother.”
“Did I nurse?”
Cara passed her a bagel. “It was free food. What do you think?”
Lori wiped her hands on her dress. “If I only eat half of my bagel, can I share it with the mama dog?”
“Your part is half of a bagel, so, no, you can’t share any of it. She’ll be fine. We should be so lucky as to scavenge like a dog and not get sick.”
“You know what?”
Cara shrugged. “I don’t want to play guessing games, okay?”
“If I ever had more food than I needed, I’d give it to other hungry boys and girls.”
Cara rolled her eyes. “As if.” The sarcasm in her tone ran deep within her; Cara knew that all too well.
Remembering how she used to dream of jumping on a horse and riding into a world that had people who loved her and flowed with tables of food, Cara stared at her half of the bagel. “Never be afraid to hope, Lorabean. Never.”
Deborah continued to shake as Ephraim pulled into the driveway. Daed sat beside her, with Mahlon on the other side of him, as they rode on the back of the wagon with their legs dangling. She and Mahlon held on to her Daed so he wouldn’t fall out as the wagon bumped along. His ashen face tortured her.
Dear God, don’t take him! Please. The phrase screamed inside her. The loss of her mother had nearly destroyed her whole family. She couldn’t stand losing someone else. Not after Daed and Becca had spent years building a new family while giving strength to the one they each already had.
Mahlon jumped off the back of the wagon before it came to a complete stop. His eyes locked on hers, saying he cared and he understood. She knew he did. He always had, and she relied on his quiet strength.
Becca ran out the door. “Abner?”
“He’s had a spell.” Deborah choked on tears she refused to shed.
“Call the doctor, and call for a driver.” Becca spoke in a whisper that didn’t hide her panic.
Ephraim was already halfway to the shop.
“I’m fine now.” Daed waved his arm for everyone to let go of him. “Stop fussing over me.”
They released him.
“But you will be seen by the doctor, Abner. You must,” Becca pleaded.
“I said I’m fine.”
Deborah stood in front of him. “You were talking nonsense, Daed. And you had sharp chest pains.” She wiped her fingers across his forehead. “You’re still sweating.”
He held her gaze. “I’ll be okay. I just need to rest.”
“Please.” Deborah gently squeezed his arm. “I need you to go to the hospital to be sure of what’s going on. Not tomorrow or later in the week. Right now.”
He slowly reached for her face and cradled her cheeks in the palms of his rough hands. “Okay. But don’t let the young ones slip off while we’re gone. You keep them close to home. Away from that drunken thief. And lock the doors.” His raspy breathing came in shallow spurts, and his hands trembled. “Once I get to the hospital, those doctors’ll want to keep me at least one night. They always do.”
Deborah placed her hands over his. “Mahlon will stay and help Ephraim get ready for the auction. And Ada will fill in for Becca. The community can do the auction on schedule even without you giving out instructions left and right.”
Daed gave a nod.
Becca stepped forward. “Kumm.” She took Daed’s arm and helped him into the house.
“He’ll be okay.” Mahlon came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “It’s probably another incident that’s easily fixed. You remember last year when he’d taken in too much salt and had a fluid overload.”
“He never had any pain with that.”
“No, but anyone with his kind of heart condition has times when his medication needs to be adjusted. We know that from past experiences. I’m sure it’s something the doctors can solve.”
“He kept saying that he saw a woman coming out of the Swarey home and that she’d stolen things from them and was drunk. I didn’t see anyone. Then he started mumbling about a ghost and Mamm having loved her and maybe he’d been wrong, like Pontius Pilate.” She swallowed, trying to hold in her emotions. “I couldn’t do anything to help him.”
“He’ll be fine, Deb.” He moved in front of her. “You did everything right.” Mahlon’s deep, soft voice strengthened her. “You used the power of his love for you to get him to do what’s needed.”
She moved to a lawn chair and sat. “I… I just don’t know if I can handle losing him.”
“Deb.” His back stiffened, and frustration flickered in his eyes. “Don’t do this. He’ll be fine. And of course you can deal with whatever happens. What other choice do you have—to fall apart? That only makes everyone else need to carry you.”
Fear for her Daed took a step back as offense lurched forward. But she knew where he was coming from and why, so she took a breath and gained control of herself “You’re right. I didn’t mean… It’s just that sometimes life is so scary, and about the time you can deal with one thing, something else happens.”
He dipped his head for a moment before he looked her in the eye. “I know. But there’s a difference between being concerned for someone and taking on all the anxiety of their what-ifs. You pull so hard for everyone to win, for everyone to be healthy and safe. Just… don’t…
He sounded as if he had more to say. It seemed to her that she deserved an apology, not a lecture, so she waited. A car horn blasted, and she knew the driver had arrived to take Daed to the hospital.