Isaiah watched the other firemen putting out the last of the hot spots around the stable as he paced between the house and the fire engine. The captain had refused to let him fight, telling him he was too emotionally involved. He’d proved it by rushing into the stable. That everyone, including Bella, had been saved was no justification for what he’d done. Isaiah knew the captain would have more to say once the cleanup was done, and he would accept whatever punishment the captain handed out. He’d let his fears overcome his training, and he could have endangered his fellow firefighters if they’d had to come to his rescue.
The stable was a scorched skeleton of timbers. The building had been too involved by the time the firefighters arrived. However, other than smoke stains, the larger barn was undamaged and the animals, except a few chickens, were safe. The missing chickens would likely reappear when they were hungry.
Isaiah had no idea how the fire started. He was careful. He didn’t leave a lamp in the stable, not wanting one of the horses to bump into it and tip it over. Maybe the kinder had seen something. He gave them a quick hug before Mamm appeared and took them into the house. At the same time, the EMTs had rushed Clara into the ambulance to work on her. They’d told him to wait outside, out of the way.
Glancing at where the ambulance stood in the yard, he had to believe the fact it hadn’t rushed off to the hospital meant she was going to be okay. She had to be okay. He couldn’t bear the thought of another woman he loved dying.
Ja, he loved her. With his defenses seared away, he couldn’t ignore the truth any longer. He loved Clara Ebersol. He loved her magnificent red hair and her snapping eyes that mirrored her emotions, whether she wished them to or not. He loved her sense of humor and her sense of duty with the kinder. He loved her faith that was as much a part of her as her scintillating smile. He loved her courage and her weaknesses, including the one she never spoke of: her fear she wasn’t gut enough to meet anyone’s standards, including her own.
He loved her.
And he wanted to tell her how wrong her fear was. She was the most wunderbaar woman he’d ever known.
Isaiah paused in his pacing when Finn Markham approached him. The EMT was also a member of the Paradise Springs Volunteer Fire Department, and Isaiah had worked with him on several occasions. He’d never thought he’d need the tall Englischer in his official capacity.
Finn clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Good news, Isaiah. Clara is breathing well on her own.”
“Will she have to go to the hospital?”
“Her blood oxygen levels are low, but that’s to be expected. We’ll check again in a half hour. If they’ve stabilized, she won’t have to go.”
“Can I see her?”
“I don’t think I could stop you.” Finn gave him a bolstering smile. “She’s been asking about you and the children. We’ve tried to reassure her that you’re all okay, but I don’t think she’ll believe that until she sees you with her own eyes.”
“I’ll get the kinder.”
Putting a hand on Isaiah’s arm, the EMT said, “It’d be better right now if it’s just you. She’s pretty weak. She breathed in a lot of smoke, and it’ll be a few days before she’s 100 percent again. The kids may get her too excited, and that’s going to have an impact on her oxygen levels.”
“All right.” He took one step, then stopped. “Danki, Finn. I owe you a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”
“Have your mother make me one of her snitz pies, and we’ll call it even.”
“If I know Mamm, she’ll make you a dozen.”
Finn grinned. “And I’ll eat every bite.” To Isaiah’s back, he added, “Just don’t take Clara’s breath away with your manly charms.”
Isaiah laughed as he hadn’t been sure he’d ever be able to again. But the sound was short-lived. His steps slowed as he approached the ambulance. How was he going to find the right words to apologize to Clara for letting her down? If he’d been at the farm, she wouldn’t have had to go into the stable to rescue the twins and the horse.
Sending Finn pie was an easy way to repay his debt to his friend, but how was he going to repay his debt to Clara for failing her?
* * *
Clara’s heart danced in her aching chest when Isaiah heaved himself into the ambulance. The sight of his face, blackened by smoke, was the best medicine she could have. But raising her head was too much, and she began to cough.
“Whoa there,” Jasmine, the other EMT, said as she put her fingers on Clara’s wrist to check her pulse. “Take it easy. I can tell he makes your heart go pitter-patter, but we want your heart rate slower, not faster.”
Leaning her head back on the thin pillow on the gurney, Clara nodded.
“If you promise to be good,” Jasmine continued, “I’ll give you time alone while I start filling out my report.”
“I promise.” Isaiah’s hoarse voice didn’t sound like his own. “And I’ll make sure she’s gut, too.”
“I’m sure you will.” The vehicle bounced when the EMT jumped out.
When Isaiah sat on the low stool Jasmine had been using, Clara smiled past the oxygen tubes connecting her nose and lungs to a nearby tank. He was careful not to jostle any of the IV tubes running into her left arm.
Shock made her heart skip a beat when he grabbed her left hand. She fought not to cough so she could hear what he said.
“I should have been here. I’m sorry.” He pressed his forehead to her hand. “I’m so, so sorry, Clara. Please forgive me.”
Her other fingers rose to brush aside the hair that fell forward onto her skin. The clatter of the IV startled her, but she ignored it. “Forgive you for what?”
“For not being here.”
“But you were here. You saved Bella and me. We’re alive because of you.”
“If I’d been here, you wouldn’t have had to go into the stable, and you wouldn’t be lying here with these machines hooked up to you.”
“Do you think you could have kept me out when the twins were inside?” She raised a single eyebrow, though the slight motion sent a pain across her head.
Her attempt at humor did not bring him a smile and fell flat because he was too caught up in his despair to hear what she said. Why? She was alive. The kinder were alive. The stable was gone, but not the other outbuildings or the house. Why was he insisting on punishing himself for what hadn’t happened instead of being grateful for what had?
Then she realized what was in his head and his heart. Before she could halt herself from saying the words she didn’t want to believe were true, she asked, “You think if you’d been at your house that day Rose wouldn’t have died?”
“Ja. No. I mean—” He clamped his lips closed, but the potent emotions in his eyes burned her almost as fiercely as the fire’s embers had.
“Tell me what you mean.” Instinct warned her that he needed to keep talking until he broke open the half-healed scars within his heart and let out the pain infecting him.
For a long moment, he said nothing. He shifted as if he planned to get up and leave. She feared he wanted to run away again from the grief and guilt he’d carried with him for too long.
“I tried hard to keep her safe,” he whispered. “I never came into the house smelling of smoke from the forge.”
“I’ve wondered why you change clothes in the barn and wash up out there.”
“Rose should never have married a blacksmith when the faintest wisp of smoke could bring on an asthma attack.”
“That’s easy to say, but when the heart gets involved, gut sense goes out the window.” She closed her eyes and drew in the deepest breath she could. When she began to cough, she groped for the cup of water Jasmine had left on a nearby shelf.
Isaiah pressed it into her hand. He watched as she took a drink, and she realized he would have helped her swallow past her raw throat if he could. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’ll be if I take it easy. That’s what Finn and Jasmine said.”
“You should listen to them. They’re skilled EMTs.”
“And you should listen to me, Isaiah. How many times have you praised my common sense?”
“A lot.”
“But you wouldn’t have thought I had a lick of sense if you’d seen my reaction to the news my fiancé had married someone else.”
A faint smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “Nobody would have faulted you for that.”
“My daed did, but you’ve helped me see that he can’t be other than he is. We can’t change the past.”
“I agree.”
“Why are you trying to convince yourself Rose didn’t love you when you got married?”
“Orpha said—”
“That she lied to hurt you.” She pushed herself up to sit on the gurney, and the machines around her reacted to her motion. Waiting for them to calm down, she said, “It’s not Orpha. It’s you. You don’t believe Rose loved you. No, you believe it, but you don’t want to. You’d rather wallow in your self-loathing.”
“Don’t be silly. That’s not what I feel.”
She put her hand over his on the side of the gurney. “If I had to guess, I’d say guilt is your protection against the heavy weight of your loss. The kinder have hidden their pain, and you have, too. Now they’re facing it. Are you less courageous than a five-year-old or a three-year-old who is coming to accept the invitation from God to walk the path He’s given them? Can’t you believe as a grown man what each of those kinder accepts with innocent faith? God will never give us more than we can handle when we depend on Him to see us through.”
When he wrapped his arms around her and leaned against her shoulder, tears running down his face, she held him close. She guessed it was the first time he’d allowed himself to cry since Rose had died over a year ago. In that time, the pain had feasted on him like a parasite. But he’d released the dam he’d built to hold in the pain, and the floodtide surging over him would help wash it away forever.
* * *
Later that evening, Clara leaned one shoulder against the frame of the door between the kitchen and the living room. She was much better, able to draw a breath without coughing. The EMTs had given her instructions to call 911 if her symptoms returned, and the paper sat in the middle of the kitchen table.
Isaiah motioned for the kinder to join him in the living room. His eyes were lined in red, but his shoulders seemed to have risen at least an inch as he began to set aside the burden of guilt he’d been carrying. He had many months of healing ahead of him, but, like Andrew, Ammon, Nancy and Nettie Mae, he’d begun to move in that direction.
She watched as Isaiah sat on the floor with the twins. They eyed him uneasily, and, for once, he didn’t smile to ease their concerns.
Or hers.
If the fire chief’s suspicions were true, what the youngsters had done this afternoon had been far worse than forgetting to pick up their crayons or spilling a glass of milk. The twins squirmed, a sure sign of guilt. She hoped Isaiah would be gentle when he knew how virulent guilt could be. It’d nearly stolen his happiness for the rest of his life. However, she was sure of one thing: Isaiah wouldn’t be like her daed who’d lambasted her for embarrassing him and the family with her broken betrothal. His friends had trusted him with the kinder, and she did, too.
“Do you want to tell me about what happened this afternoon?” he asked with the calm tone they’d learned worked best with the kinder.
All four exchanged uneasy glances.
Andrew spoke first. “It was an accident.”
“It?” asked Isaiah.
“Fire, ain’t so?” asked Nettie Mae.
“Ja.” Isaiah’s lips tightened, and Clara guessed he was trying not to smile at the little girl’s ingenuousness. “I’m sure the fire was an accident, but who will tell me what happened?”
“I will.” At Ammon’s answer, Clara had to keep her smile hidden. She was grateful the little boy was taking an active part in their conversations. She wondered how much longer Andrew would be the youngsters’ unchallenged leader.
“Go ahead,” prompted Isaiah.
The little boy’s tale was short and to the point. He and Andrew wanted to prove to their sisters that they knew how to light a lantern and decided to prove it in the stable. “We wanted to show them we could take care of a pony, so we could get one like Daed promised.”
She held her breath, waiting for Isaiah’s response.
He asked, “And?”
“We took the matches out of the drawer when Clara wasn’t looking.” Ammon blinked back tears as he turned to her. “We’re sorry, Clara, for touching things we shouldn’t have.”
“I know.” She didn’t want to interrupt the conversation.
“We tried to stomp the fire out,” Nancy said.
Clara bit her lip to keep her gasp of dismay from erupting. If one of the kinder’s clothing had caught fire, the fire would have become a true tragedy. She murmured a soft prayer of gratitude to God for watching over the twins and saving them from their folly.
“Pieces of hay and fire went everywhere,” Andrew added. “That’s when we got scared.”
“So you ran, Andrew?” Isaiah asked.
The boy nodded.
“And you hid?” Isaiah focused on the girls.
They nodded.
“And I went to get Bella,” Ammon said, “but couldn’t find her in the smoke.”
“We’re thankful we found you and Bella in the smoke.” He leaned toward them. “What you did was very dangerous. Any of you—and Clara—could have died. You must never touch matches without permission again until you’re big enough.”
“No more,” Nancy said.
Her twin nodded and reached for her braid to chew on. Clara had meant to help her break that habit, but she was glad Nettie Mae had its comfort. Next week, if she was still there next week, she’d start working with the little girl to convince her to stop putting her hair in her mouth.
“And we keep our promises,” Andrew said, sticking out his chest in a pose he must have thought made him look grown up.
“Gut,” Isaiah said. “This is one you must keep.”
“We will.” Ammon rose to his knees. “We’ll keep it like we’ve kept our promise to Mamm when she said no more laughing.”
Clara heard a choked sound from Isaiah and knew he was as astounded as she was. Not once had she imagined the twins’ mamm had been the one to order them not to laugh. She squatted so her eyes were level with the kinder’s. “When did she say that?”
“Before she and Daed left and didn’t come home,” Ammon said. Thick tears welled up in his eyes.
As Clara held him close, trying to offer him what solace she could, she wondered if the misunderstanding had arisen because Esta was worried about being late and had tried to keep the youngsters quiet so she could finish whatever she needed to do before she and Melvin left for the auction. How many words had she herself said in haste and come to rue afterward? But, at least, what had been done could be undone.
She looked over Ammon’s head to where Isaiah was comforting the other three. “Your mamm and daed want you to laugh whenever you want to for the rest of your lives. The sound of laughter is very light, and it reaches all the way up to them in heaven.”
“They hear us laughing?” asked Nettie Mae.
“Ja, so laugh when you want to, because your parents will be happy to hear you.”
“I gonna.” The little girl raised her chin. “Lots and lots.”
Isaiah’s gaze caught hers, and she saw his sorrow matched her own. But she also saw in his eyes hope for better times ahead and knew they were on their way to healing their hearts.
* * *
“Whew!” Isaiah said as he came down the stairs along with Clara after putting the kinder to bed. “I wasn’t sure if we’d get them to sleep.”
“It’s been a tough day for them.”
“For everyone.” He gave her a half smile as he curled an arm around her shoulders as they went toward the kitchen. “One of the worst days of my life, but also one of the best because this house will ring with childish laughter soon.” He opened the door to the dawdi haus. As he started to bid her to have a gut night’s rest, he paused and said, “Oh, I forgot about this.”
She watched while he went to the table and picked up an envelope. Handing it to her, he said nothing. Her eyes widened when she saw the international stamps on it.
“From the kinder’s grandparents?” she asked.
“Ja. We can read it tonight and share it with them in the morning, if you’d like.”
“That’s a gut idea.” She opened it, pulled out the pages inside and began to read aloud:
“‘Dear Andrew, Ammon, Nancy, Nettie Mae, Isaiah and Clara,
‘First, we want to thank you for the wunderbaar pictures and stories about the kinder. We’ve received each letter with joy. It’s such a blessing to get to know our kins-kinder better. We wish we had more time with you.
‘And that brings us to something we want to address to you, Isaiah. As you may or may not know, we haven’t had the amount of time we would have liked to spend with our kins-kinder. Our call to serve has taken us to many places, and our visits to our son and his family have been few and far between. Melvin was concerned about his kinder not knowing us. He mentioned that when he spoke with us before he asked you, Isaiah, to serve as guardian for the twins if anything happened to him. We know he asked you to assist Esta in his place. Hearing you agreed to both without hesitation has told us much about the man you are. A gut man and a God-fearing one who has served his Lord to the best of his abilities, and a man who wouldn’t shirk his duties to his friend’s family.
‘Clara, we have come to know you through your kind letters, which have filled our hearts with joy. The twins’ lives have been made better by you being in them, we’re sure. But we know you’re there only temporarily.
‘A long-term solution must be found for the kinder. We cannot bring them here to live with us, and from what we’ve heard from Debra Wittmer, she’s in a similar situation. Our love for our kins-kinder will never change, but, Isaiah, would you consider taking them permanently? They need a gut home and a gut daed. We believe you can provide that home and be their daed.’”
Clara lowered the letter and whispered, “Did I read that right? They want you to adopt the twins?”
“That’s what it sounded like to me.” He started to grin. “I’m glad it sounded that way to you, too.”
“Do you think it’s possible?” she asked, wondering what the kinder would say when they heard of this. She prayed they wouldn’t feel unwanted by their grandparents and aenti as she’d felt unwanted by her daed for too many years.
“Ja, it’s possible for the Amish to adopt. My sister, Esther, and her husband have.”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t talking about the legalities. I meant is this something you want to do? Do you want to change from a temporary daed to a permanent one? It’s such a responsibility, Isaiah.”
“I can do it, but I’ll need help.”
“Your family—”
“Your help, Clara.” He grasped her hands, lacing his fingers through hers. “Nothing has changed.”
“I can stay as long as you need me.”
“But you didn’t let me ask first.”
“Ask what? You said you needed my help, and I’m glad to give it.”
He shook his head. “Stop being scared of disappointing me as your daed has made you believe you’ve disappointed him, Clara. Listen to your heart. If you won’t, then listen to mine.”
Her breath caught as she realized what he was saying. She’d been caught up in wondering how the kinder would react to the news and hadn’t thought of anything else. Certainly nothing as wunderbaar as what she believed he was asking of her.
His smile widened. “Clara, are you willing to go from temporary nanny to permanent mamm and wife? My wife?”
“Are you sure?”
“More sure than I’ve been of anything in my life. I have been praying for the right time to propose, and I think this is it. I’m not asking because of the kinder. I’m asking because I love you. Do you love me?”
“With all my heart...except for the part that belongs to four mischievous twins.”
“I can offer you almost all my heart...everything except for what belongs to four imps. But you haven’t given me your answer, Clara. Will you marry me?”
“Ja, I’ll marry you.”
He let out a whoop, then glanced toward the ceiling. “I hope I didn’t wake them before I can...” He caressed her cheek, and she slanted her face into his warm palm.
When his mouth found hers, she knew she’d never understood the breadth of happiness until this moment. They still had a lot of grief to deal with, but they’d be doing it together.
Laughter sounded around them, and Isaiah pulled away. In shock, she saw the twins giggling with the ease she’d prayed for.
“What’s funny?” Isaiah asked in a feigned gruff voice.
“Kissing is funny,” shouted Andrew before dissolving into laughter again. The other twins joined in.
“You’ve got it almost right.” Isaiah drew her into his arms once more. “Kissing isn’t funny. It’s fun.” And to prove his point, he kissed her again and again until they were laughing as hard as the youngsters.