who’d been left homeless in the flood. Her cot, along with the two smaller ones the children used, left little room for any possessions in their cramped space in two stalls. They had only a few changes of clothing, donated by kind members of the Mennonite congregation.
Carolyn had been able to rescue Hopper, the toy rabbit Rose Anne had slept with since she was born. Somehow in the craziness of escaping the flood, she’d grabbed the wrong thing from Kevin’s bed. Instead of his beloved Tippy, a battered dog who’d lost most of his stuffing years ago, she’d taken an afghan. Kevin had told her it was okay.
“I’m too big for a stuffed toy anyhow,” he’d said.
She’d guessed he was trying to spare her feelings. That had been confirmed when the children were offered new stuffed toys. Kevin had thanked the volunteers and taken a bear, but it had been left on the floor by his cot. She’d caught sight of the stains of tears on his face after he’d fallen asleep and known he ached for his special toy.
It was too great a burden for a little boy to bear. The weight of everything they’d lost pressed down on her. It was difficult to act as if everything could be made right again. All she had from a week ago was the heart-shaped locket that had belonged to her sister and contained baby pictures of the children. It had taken her almost a month to get accustomed to wearing the necklace without feeling she was doing something wrong. A proper plain woman didn’t wear jewelry, but she hoped God would understand she was fulfilling her sister’s dying wish to keep the children close to her heart.
She clenched the gold locket as she savored the familiar scents of the barn. The dried hay and oats that had been a treat for the horses consigned to a meadow out back were a wonderful break from the odors closer to the brook. She let herself pretend she was a child again and had fallen asleep in her family’s barn on a hot summer afternoon.
But she wasn’t in that innocent time. She and the children were homeless, and she feared Leland would care enough about Kevin and Rose Anne to come to Vermont.
Assuming they’d been on the news, and he’d seen the report. Maybe he’d missed it.
Help me keep these children safe, she prayed.
The image of Michael Miller flashed through her mind, startling her. Why had she thought of him when she imagined being safe? It must be, she reassured herself, that he represented the Amish life she’d given up. Or maybe it was because he was going to be rebuilding their house. She shouldn’t be envisioning his strong shoulders and easy smile, which had made her feel that everything was going to be okay simply because he was there.
She pushed herself up to sit. Was she out of her mind? Her sister and mamm had been enticed by good looks and charming talk, and both had suffered for it. Though Daed had never struck Mamm, at least as far as Carolyn knew, he’d berated her whenever something went wrong. Even if it’d been his fault. That abuse had continued until his death and had worn her mother down until she died the year before Carolyn left Indiana.
Carolyn heard the children shifting as they woke. She dressed and hushed Kevin as she helped him and his sister get ready for the day care center at the Mennonite meetinghouse’s community center. The children had been going there while she helped prepare breakfast for the displaced and the volunteers.
After they’d made their beds and folded their nightclothes on top of the blankets, she held her finger to her lips as she led the way out of the barn.
Some of the people in the large barn were still asleep. With worries about when they’d have a home or a job to return to, many found it impossible to sleep through the night. She’d woken often during the long nights and heard people pacing or talking in anxious whispers. But, just as she did, the resilient Vermonters kept on their cheerful faces during the day.
Kissing the children and getting kisses in return, Carolyn watched as they joined the others at the low tables where they’d be served breakfast soon. She wasn’t surprised Rose Anne chose a seat right next to Taylor, the librarian’s foster daughter. Rose Anne and Taylor whispered in delight at seeing each other. Her niece had asked to have her hair done like Taylor’s pom-pom pigtails, but Rose Anne’s hair was too straight.
Carolyn waved to the women and one lone elderly man working at the day care center that morning.
Jenna Sommers, whose hair was as black as her foster daughter’s, wove through the tables toward her, motioning for Carolyn to wait. More than one child halted the town’s librarian and asked when she was going to read to them. Assuring them she would if they ate their breakfast, she was smiling as she reached the door where Carolyn stood, trying not to look impatient to get to work.
“Good morning, Carolyn,” Jenna said in her sweet voice, which could alter to a growl when she read a book with a big dog or a giant in it. “I hear the team has arrived who is building you a new house.”
“That’s what Tony told me yesterday.” Carolyn shifted uneasily, overwhelmed with the generosity. And how the thought of spending time with Michael Miller accelerated her heart rate. “There are other people who need a home as much as we do.”
“I don’t know what the policies are for this new group, but I’ve heard the MDS helps the elderly and single mothers first.”
Carolyn had learned MDS stood for the Mennonite Disaster Service. The organization, which was celebrating its seventieth anniversary, had already sent people to evaluate where their volunteers could best be used, and she had sat through an uncomfortable interview. She was grateful people wanted to help her and the children. Having the community pitch in after a tragedy was what she’d been accustomed to while growing up. She was accustomed to such generosity.
What bothered her was that she wasn’t a single mother. She was a single aunt.
Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Michael followed his friends into the long, low building attached to the simple white meetinghouse. The Mennonite chapel had no tower or steeple, and the windows were clear glass. He was curious about what the sanctuary looked like, but his destination, as his rumbling stomach reminded him, was breakfast in what the locals called the community center.
Rows of tables in every possible shape and size had been pushed together to allow for the most seating. Chairs and benches flanked them. Upholstered chairs were placed next to lawn chairs with plastic webbing. He wondered if every house in the village had emptied its chairs and tables into the space.
Many were filled with people intent on eating. He could understand because the aromas of eggs, bacon and toast coming from the kitchen were enticing.
As enticing as...
He halted the thought before it could form, but it wasn’t easy when he noticed Carolyn Wiebe smiling at a man and a woman who were selecting generous portions of food at the window between the dining area and what looked like a well-stocked commercial kitchen. Her dark eyes sparkled like stars in a night sky, and her smile was warmer than the air billowing out of the kitchen. He found himself wishing she’d look his way.
“Over here?” asked James before Michael could wonder why he was acting like a teenage boy at his first youth singing.
Looking at where his friend was gesturing, Michael wasn’t surprised none of James’s brothers were seated nearby. James hadn’t said anything, but it was clear he was annoyed with his three older brothers who’d swooped down from their homes in Ontario and insisted James join
