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“We have been in Maryland visiting my mother for the past month.” She stroked her little girl’s hair. “Sophie became ill and was in the hospital briefly. Eli’s friend Dan Kauffman called me to tell me about Eli’s passing. He knew Mother and I couldn’t return for the funeral. Surely he told you that, for I know he attended.”
“I don’t speak to the Amish and they don’t speak to me. You’ll have to find somewhere else to live. Uncle Eli left the farm to me.”
Her eyes widened with astonishment. “I don’t believe it. He told me he had amended the farm trust and made me the beneficiary months ago.”
Ralph looked stunned but he quickly recovered and glared at her. “Even if he did, he revoked that amendment three weeks ago when he made me the new trustee. He said nothing about you or your children. That’s why they call it a revocable trust, Clara, because a man can change his mind anytime. It’s irrevocable now that Eli is gone and this farm belongs to me.”
Paul wished he knew more about how such things worked.
“You’re lying, Ralph. Eli wouldn’t turn over his farm to you.”
“You make it sound like we weren’t on speaking terms. I came to visit the old fellow at least once a year.”
“Only to see if you could beg money off him.”
“I admit my motives weren’t always the best but things have been different lately. I cared about the old guy.”
“Cared about what you could get from him. Open the door at once.”
Ralph crossed his arms and leaned back. “You haven’t changed, cousin. You’re still trying to boss me around. I’m not going to let you in my house.”
“You have changed. You’ve gone from scamming Amish folks out of a few hundred dollars to stealing costlier things, like this farm.”
“If you feel that’s the case, cousin, call the cops. You can use my phone.”
Her lips narrowed into a thin line. “You know it is not our way to involve the Englisch law.”
“Yeah, I do know that. The Amish don’t like outsiders. Suits me.”
“Is that what you were counting on? You’re a man without scruples. You are a blemish on our family’s good name.”
Her biting comment surprised Paul. She might look small but she was clearly a woman to be reckoned with. She reminded him of an angry mama cat all fluffed up and spitting mad. He rubbed a hand across his mouth to hide a grin. His movement caught her attention, and she pinned her deep blue gaze on him. “Who are you?”
He stopped smiling. “My name is Paul Bowman. I’m an auctioneer. Mr. Hobson has hired me to get this property ready for sale.”
Her angry gaze snapped back to Ralph. “I would like to see the document Eli signed giving you the farm that he had promised to me and my children.”
“That document is none of your business. My attorney has it.” He turned and walked toward the car.
She stifled her anger. Paul saw the effort it took and felt sorry for her. She drew a deep breath. “Ralph, please, search your heart and find compassion for us. You know Sophie will need medical care her entire life. I will be hard-pressed to pay for that care without the income this farm will provide.”
Ralph stopped but didn’t look at her. “The church will take care of you. Isn’t that what they promise? Eli and I mended our difference. You should be happy about that. The Amish are all about forgiveness.”
“I wish I believed you.” Clara turned to Paul. “You can’t auction off this farm. It doesn’t belong to him.”
Paul held up both hands and took a step back. “This is clearly a family matter, and I don’t think I should get involved. Do you have a place to stay? My aunt and uncle will be happy to welcome you to their home.”
Her tense posture relaxed a little. “I’m grateful for the offer but we have to stay here. My daughter has Crigler-Najjar syndrome. It’s a rare liver disease. She has a special blue-light bed she must sleep in at night. It is upstairs in the front bedroom.”
Paul had heard of the blue-light children but he’d never seen one. Clara’s daughter was a pretty child with white-blond curly hair and a golden hue to her skin. Her bright blue eyes regarded him solemnly. The boy shared the same blond hair and blue eyes. He glared at Ralph but didn’t speak.
Ralph gave his cousin a falsely sweet smile. “I don’t have the keys to the house with me but you’re welcome to sleep on the porch.”
Clara’s scowl deepened. “My child can’t be without the lights. She needs to be under them for ten hours a day or risk brain damage. I have a set we travel with but I left them with my mother to be shipped here later. You must let us stay.”
Paul heard the desperation in her voice. He caught Ralph by the arm. “This isn’t right. Let her in.”
Ralph jerked away. “You heard her say I’m a liar and a thief and you think I should help her? I’m going to call the sheriff and report her for trespassing. A night in jail might change her tune. Get in the car. I’m leaving.”
Paul cringed. He was about to lose a sale that would have paved the way for his future business. He glanced around and picked up a rock twice the size of his fist. “Do you have the key, Mr. Hobson? If not, I’m going to owe you for a new padlock and a smashed door. I’m not leaving here until she and her kinder are safe inside.”
Ralph pulled out his cell phone. “Go ahead. The sheriff can arrest both of you.”
Chapter Two (#u194fafc0-a76c-5927-a571-175e7ddcd1a1)
Clara’s jaw dropped in shock. Ralph was just the kind of man to make good on his threat. Would the Englisch law put her in jail? What would become of her children? Sophie had to have her light bed. Would the sheriff allow her to use it?
She had no wish for the young auctioneer to suffer because he was standing up for her and her children. She met the young man’s gaze, ready to give in and leave if she could take Sophie’s bed but Paul didn’t look the least bit concerned. He winked at her, a sly smile lifting the corner of his mouth. What should she make of that?
He leaned toward Ralph and pointed to the phone. “The sheriff’s name is Nick Bradley. Be sure to tell Nick it’s Paul Bowman you want arrested. Nick’s daughter, Mary, is married to my cousin Joshua. Oh, and tell him Mary is planning a birthday party for Nicky two weeks from Saturday. The picnic will be at Bowmans Crossing at six o’clock. You know what? Never mind. I’ll just wait here with Clara and tell Nick myself.”
With an angry growl, Ralph put away his phone, pulled a set of keys from his pocket and threw them at Paul. He caught them easily. “You’d do well to remember you work for me now. Get her out of here as soon as you can.”
“Danki. I’ll finish looking the place over and let you know in a couple of days when I think I can schedule your auction. Off the top of my head, I estimate six weeks. Maybe less.”
Ralph nodded once. “Make it less. I need to get rid of this place as soon as possible. Inventory it from top to bottom and get me a copy of the list. Don’t make me regret this. I can easily find another auctioneer.”
“I’ll do my best for you but if you’re in a rush to get rid of the place, why did you turn down Mr. Jones without even hearing his offer?”
“I didn’t like the look of the fellow.” Ralph pointed at Clara. “I don’t want her removing things she claims are hers without checking with me first but I want her gone as soon as possible. If she’s not out of here in a few days, I will call the sheriff.”
Paul glanced at her and then nodded. “I understand.”
Ralph opened the car door. “Are you coming?”
“I can find my own way home.”
“I’m staying at the Swan’s Head Motel in Berlin until the sale is over.” Ralph pulled out a business card. “This is my number. Don’t believe a word that woman says. She’s crazy. She imagines all kinds of things.” Ralph got in, slammed the car door and sped away.
“I guess I won’t need this after all.” Paul tossed aside the rock and walked up the porch steps.
Clara stood and pulled a crowbar from behind her. “I reckon I won’t need this, either.”
He threw back his head and laughed. Clara settled Sophie on her hip as a smile twitched at the corner of her lips. Her son, Toby, was chuckling. It was a wonderful sound. It had been a long time since they had anything to laugh about.
“I reckon your cousin Ralph didn’t think to padlock the toolshed.” Paul grinned at her as she handed him the crowbar.
“He did,” Toby said, putting the cat down. “Mamm boosted me up to the window and I climbed in to get it.”
Toby was so pleased that he had been able to help her. Ever since her husband’s death two years ago, Toby had been trying to be the man of the family. A big undertaking for a boy of only eight.
Paul’s face grew serious as he gazed at Toby. “Your mamm is blessed to have a son who is both agile and brave.”
This stranger’s words of praise to her son raised him another notch in her estimation. Toby stood a little straighter. “It didn’t take much bravery. The spiderwebs were pretty small.”
Paul smiled. “Agile, brave and modest, too. Just as a goot Amish boy should be. Your daed will be pleased when he learns of this.”
Toby’s shoulders slumped. He looked down. “Daed is in heaven.”
Paul laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “My daed is in heaven, too. God must have needed two strong Amish fellows to help him up there. I’m happy Daed is serving our Lord even though I miss him. I never forget that he is watching over me just as your father is watching over you. We must always behave in a way that pleases them, and I’m mighty sure that you pleased your daed by helping your mother today.”
“You helped Mamm, too. Cousin Ralph would have made us leave if you hadn’t been here.”
Paul looked at Clara over Toby’s head. “I think it would take a tougher man than your cousin Ralph to move your mother if she didn’t wish to go.”
Clara felt a blush heat her cheeks. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had complimented her.
“Do you suppose your daed and mine are friends in heaven?” Toby asked. “I think he might be lonely without us and without his friends to talk to.”
Clara bit her lip as she struggled to hold back the tears. Toby had a tender heart. He worried about far too many things. Adam had been a good husband but an indifferent father, preferring to spend his free time with his unmarried friends rather than the children.
Paul crossed his arms over his chest and then cupped his chin as he considered Toby’s question. “Did your daed enjoy a good game of horseshoes and did he like baseball?”
Toby’s eyes widened in surprise. “He liked both those things.”
Paul turned his hands palms-up. “Then I reckon they must be friends ’cause my daed liked horseshoes and he loved baseball, too. Would you do me a favor and take a quick look at the barn. I need to know if Ralph put padlocks on it.”
“Sure.” Toby took off at a run.
“You were very kind to my son,” Clara said softly.
“Losing his father is hard for a boy that age to comprehend.” Paul watched Toby for a moment and then turned to Clara. “And for his mother, too.”
“How old were you?”
“Six. I’ll get the door open. I almost wish you had produced the crowbar in front of Ralph. I would have given a lot to see his face.”
It seemed he didn’t want to talk about a painful time from his childhood and she respected that.
After unlocking and removing the padlock, Paul pushed the door open and stood back as she carried Sophie inside. The cat darted in and bolted into the living room. Clara set her daughter on a chair by the kitchen table, then turned to get her suitcases but Paul was already inside with them in his hands. “Where would you like these?”
“The black one can go on the bed in the room at the top of the stairs. The gray one goes in the room at the end of the hall. That door leads upstairs.” She nodded toward it as she untied her black traveling bonnet and took it off. He opened the door and she heard him going quickly up the steps.
A quick glance in the mirror by the front door showed her kapp was on straight but her hair had frizzed at her temples. She smoothed them as best she could.
Paul Bowman was a nice-looking young man. He smiled easily, defended her right to enter the house and spoke kindly to Toby. She appreciated all that but even after hearing her say Ralph’s trust had to be a fake, Paul was still going to work for her cousin. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Would he ignore her claim and auction this farm in six weeks? She couldn’t let that happen. A handsome face and a few kind words weren’t enough to blind her to the fact that he was helping Ralph cheat her children out of their inheritance.
She settled Sophie in the living room with one of her favorite books. The cat curled up at her side. Sophie had missed her pet while visiting her grandmother but happily, the bishop’s wife liked cats and had taken care of Patches while they were away. Sophie was pretending to read the story to the cat but she looked ready to nod off. A nap would be just the thing for her. None of them had managed to get any rest on the long bus ride here. Toby came in to report everything was locked up tight. She told him to stay with Sophie when she heard Paul coming downstairs.
She joined him in the kitchen. “I appreciate your help, Mr. Bowman but I need to know your intentions.”
He grinned. “My intentions are to stay single for as long as possible. Sorry.”
She wasn’t amused. “I’m talking about your intentions with regards to this farm.”
“I’m an auctioneer. My intention is to inventory the property and ready the place to be sold.” He quickly covered his head with his arms as if expecting to be hit.
She clasped her fingers tightly together. “Even after hearing that Ralph’s claim to this farm is false?”
He opened one eye to peek at her. “That did give me pause but Ralph seems certain that he owns this place.” He put his arms down and leaned one hip against the kitchen counter. “Is it possible your uncle changed his mind?”
“I don’t believe Eli would do that to me. I will not let you and Ralph sell this place. I don’t know how I can stop you but I will.”
“Don’t get riled at me. As an auctioneer, I have a responsibility to preform my due diligence by making sure that everything I sell is legal and as represented.”
She crossed her arms. “What does that mean?”
“It means I won’t sell a horse as a five-year-old if he has ten-year-old teeth in his mouth. I’ll thoroughly check Ralph’s claim of ownership. It may take a few days. In the meantime...”
“In the meantime, what?”
“I need to begin an inventory of the property.”
“Why?”
“Because I have given my word to Ralph Hobson that I will handle the details of the sale for him. It’s part of my job, and I have a reputation to consider. I can’t say I hold much respect for the man after his actions today. No one should treat a woman and her children with such callousness. Unfortunately, he is my client.”
“I’m sorry you have been placed in an awkward situation.”
“Danki. Have you thought about where you will go?”
She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here. This farm belongs to me.”
“If you prove to be the rightful trustee, what are your plans for this place? Will you farm it? Rent it? Sell all or part of it?”
“I will sell most of the land but I plan to keep a few acres and the house to live in.” Her uncle’s death wasn’t unexpected—he had been in poor health—but it still came as a shock. Maybe if she could make Paul understand how much was at stake, he would stop Ralph from selling the farm. It was worth a try.
“Crigler-Najjar syndrome is a fatal disease. I won’t bore you with the medical details but a liver transplant is my daughter’s only hope of living beyond her teens. A few months ago, I learned that I am an excellent match to donate part of my liver to Sophie. It’s called a living donor transplant but it is a very expensive surgery. With all the testing and follow-up care, it will easily reach five hundred thousand dollars.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Half a million?”
“Ja. Staggering, isn’t it?”
“Won’t the Amish Hospital Aid pay for most of that?”
Amish Hospital Aid was a form of insurance that depended on contributions from a pool of members each month. She was a long-time member and paid a modest monthly amount since before Toby had been born. Not all Amish approved of the method, preferring to rely on the alms contributed by their church members in times of need.
“Amish Hospital Aid has helped pay for Sophie’s hospitalizations in the past. I paid the first twenty percent of each bill and they paid the rest. However, a liver transplant is not an emergency hospitalization. They won’t pay for disability-related costs like her doctor’s visits or her special lights. I have already sold my house and my mother sold her home to help pay for Sophie’s future medical care. All I have to live on is the rent from my husband’s harness-making business back in Strasburg, Pennsylvania, and the charity of church members. Eli’s offer to come and live with him was a Godsend.”
