The Amish Widow's Secret. Cheryl Williford
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Even if he wasn’t Old Order Amish and didn’t live as strict a life as she did, but he’d be angry she’d given the boys money and would judge her. Still, he was a good man, a kind man. Perhaps he just wanted to talk to her.
The thought of his kindness had her rushing down the stairs and opening the heavy wood door Joseph had made with his own hands. She used the door as a shield, opening it just a crack. “Ya?” She could see a slice of him, his hair wind-blown, blue eyes searching her face.
“Hello, Sarah. I thought I might find you here.”
She nodded her head in greeting.
“Are you all right?” Mose’s hand rested on the doorjamb, as if he expected to be let into the house.
Sarah held the door firm. “I’m fine. What do you want, Mose? I have things to do. I’m very busy.”
“I’m worried about you. You’ve been through so much.”
“And none of it is your business,” Sarah snapped, instantly wishing she could take back her bitter words. He’d done nothing but be kind to her. She missed the girls and wondered how they were, if Marta was still caring for them. She pushed strands of hair out of her eyes and searched his expression. She saw no signs of judgment.
“You’re right. All this is none of my business, but I am soon to be your husband. I want to help, if I can. Please, can I come in for a moment?”
On trembling legs, she stepped back to open the door all the way. “Come in.”
Mose stepped past Sarah into the silent house. Sarah glanced around. Nothing seemed out of place. There was no dust, no evidence anyone even lived here.
He turned back to Sarah. “I tried to find you after everyone left yesterday. Beatrice was asking for you. Kinder don’t understand why adults do what they do.”
“I did what everyone is saying,” Sarah blurted out, then offered a seat to Mose, but stood, swaying to and fro.
“Sit with me before you fall, you stubborn woman.” Mose took Sarah’s elbow, guided her to a wood-framed rocking chair with a padded seat and back rest. She didn’t resist, but once down, her fingers went white-knuckled on the chair’s arms.
Mose sat on the couch opposite her. “You said there was no misunderstanding. Did you give the boy money so he and his brother could leave the community as the bishop said?”
“Ya. I did.”
“Why did you help them? They have a father who’s very worried about them,” Mose said.
“I’m sure he is concerned. He needs their strong backs to run his farm. They’re better off away from him.” Sarah stared into space, her features ridged, unrelenting.
“You’ve heard from them?”
She looked at him. “Ya, I did. They’re staying with their sister, Katherine, in Missouri. She took them in after...” Her voice trailed off.
“After what, Sarah?” Emotions played on her face. Something was not being said. Mose felt sure she’d acted out of kindness. He hadn’t known her long but felt sure she wasn’t the type to interfere in other people’s business, especially to separate a family.
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