Faithful to Laura (16 page)

Sawyer grinned again as Lukas walked away. His gaze flickered to the office door. Shut, as usual. He thought about his conversation with Laura. He kept reaching out. She kept pushing away. Why did he bother?

But what would have happened if Mary Beth and Johnny had given up on him? If their family hadn’t connected him with Lukas and Anna? If the Bylers hadn’t come all the way to the group home to convince him to live with them?

What if all the important people in his life had walked away when he told them to?

He wouldn’t be painting horses’ eyes in his father’s wood-shop. He wouldn’t have a feeling of accomplishment and, yes, pride when Lukas complimented his work. He wouldn’t
belong
anywhere.

So he wasn’t about to give up on Laura. Not as long as she was in Middlefield. However long she stayed, he would keep on reaching out to her, even if she didn’t want him to.

A tinkling bell sounded, signaling the front door of the shop opening. Sawyer didn’t look up. Tobias had left an hour ago to pick up an order of cherrywood planks, but Laura or Lukas would handle the customer. Sawyer needed to put the last finishing touches on this eye before it dried.

“Anna?”

The concern in his father’s voice caused him to look up.

His mother walked toward Lukas, her face drained of color. An older woman followed behind her. She was tiny—a good six inches shorter than Anna, yet her presence seemed to fill the entire workshop.

“Lukas . . .” Anna stood by his father’s side.

“What is it, Anna?”

Then his mother did something he’d never seen her do in public. She took Lukas’s hand.

Sawyer put down the paintbrush. He stood. “Mom?”

“She’s not your mother.”

His head jerked around at the commanding sound of this woman’s voice. “Who are you?”

“Your real family.” She shot Anna and Lukas a derisive look. “Blood family. And I’m here to take you home.”

Sawyer’s gaze narrowed. “I don’t know you. And as far as me having any blood family—” He stopped short. Why was he explaining himself to this stranger? He moved to stand by his parents. “What is she talking about?”

“Sawyer.” Anna put her hand on his arm. “This is—”

“Cora Easley.” She walked to him, her heels clicking on the concrete floor. “I’m your grandmother. Your mother was my daughter.”

A sudden roaring filled his ears. “My grandparents are dead.”

“Your grandfather is. But as you can see, I’m very much alive.”

Sawyer’s head spun. “I don’t believe you.”

“I have proof.” She looked around the room. “Do we really have to do this here?” She brushed the sleeve of her coat and sneezed. “It’s dirty, and my allergies are flaring up.”

“That’s sawdust, not dirt.” This woman couldn’t possibly be related to him. His mother had never been snooty and had never been afraid of a little dirt. Every year they had planted a small garden together. He had a sudden flash of memory—a picture of her scrubbing her fingernails underneath the running tap water.

He even had vague memories of playing outside after a spring rain with both of his parents when he was a little kid. They would wear rubber boots and splash in the water and thick mud.

Everyone needed a bath afterward, but the fun had been worth it.

This woman looked as if she’d never seen a mud puddle in her life.

“Mrs. Easley.” Lukas stepped forward, Anna close beside him. “I’m Lukas Byler. Sawyer’s father.”

Sawyer looked at Lukas, pleased that he didn’t hesitate in making sure this woman knew the score. These were his parents now. His family.

Lukas held out his hand. Cora ignored it.

She faced Sawyer. “Can we talk privately?”

“
Nee
. I have work to do.” Sawyer turned and walked back to the rocking horse. He sat on the stool and picked up the brush. His hands shook, smearing black paint over what had until that point been a perfect horse’s eye. He muttered an oath and tossed the brush aside.

“Sawyer.” Lukas’ voice was low but firm.

“Sorry.” Tension clamped down on his gut like a vise. The walls of the workshop started to close in; the huge room seemed to shrink into a small box around him. If he didn’t leave now, he would say or do something he would regret.

He shot up from the stool. “I have to get out of here.” Without looking at his parents, he rushed right by Cora and out the door.

C
HAPTER
13

Cora gripped her Hermes calfskin bag and resisted the urge to throw the four-thousand-dollar purse on the ground. “Is this how you raised my grandson? To be rude?”

“Nee,”
Lukas said. He shoved his free hand in his pocket but held on to his wife’s. How touching.

She looked at the woman’s husband. Sawdust covered his clothes, his hat, even his hair and beard. This was what Sawyer had spent his teen years doing? Manual labor? She pinched the bridge of her nose. He should be attending Harvard or Yale.

Even Stanford would be preferable than living with people who dressed like they stepped out of a John Wayne western.

“Go get him.” She lifted her head and faced Lukas.

“What?” Lukas’s dark eyes narrowed.

“I said, go get him.” Cora tilted her chin. If this man thought to intimidate her, he wouldn’t succeed. “And be quick about it.”

The man didn’t say anything for a long time. He stared at her, as if trying to see inside her.

And for a brief moment, Cora Easley was the one intimidated.

Foolishness
. She owned paintings that cost more than this shop and house combined. She tapped her foot against the cement floor. A small cloud of sawdust lifted around her shoe.

“I’m waiting.”

“Sawyer will come back when he’s good and ready.” Lukas crossed his thick arms over his chest. “You can wait here if you like. I’ll even bring you a stool if you want to sit down.” He pointed to a tall stool in the corner.

Cora looked at the stool. Like everything else, coated with sawdust. “I’ll stand.” She adjusted the collar of her coat and looked away.

“Suit yourself.”

Cora ignored Lukas and looked at Anna. She hadn’t said much, yet her confused expression spoke volumes.

But sympathy was out of the question. This couple had Sawyer as part of their family—for a few years, anyway. She had missed out on a lifetime. If anyone deserved sympathy, it was Cora herself, not them.

The door to a room in the back of the shop opened. A young woman entered, wearing that white bonnet-looking thing just like Anna, and a hideous plum-colored dress that hung nearly to her ankles.

“Is everything all right?” the young woman asked.

She turned to look at Cora, and the sight sucked all the breath from Cora’s lungs.

Her face was webbed with scars. A thick one ran across the width of her chin. Razor-thin ones crisscrossed her cheeks. Cora knew she shouldn’t stare, but she couldn’t pull her gaze away. The scars were still pink. Fresh-looking. What happened to this girl?

“Laura,” Lukas said. “Why don’t you and Anna
geh
into the
haus
?
Mamm
should be home. I’m sure she’d be happy for the company.”

He spoke a mix of English and some strange guttural language. German, but not exactly.

Laura nodded but cast Cora a quick look before following Anna out of the workshop.

After they were gone, Lukas took a step toward Cora.

“Now. I believe you and me are gonna have a talk.”

“I—”

“And you will listen.”

His tone had changed, enough to catch Cora off guard.

Laura frowned as Anna took her hand. The woman’s fingers were as cold as ice cubes. “Anna? Who was that woman?”

Anna didn’t look at Laura. She kept moving toward Lukas’s parents’ house next door to the carpentry shop. Anna walked inside without knocking.

“Hello?”
Fraa
Byler, Lukas and Tobias’s mother, came into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Anna?

What’s wrong?”

“Sawyer’s grandmother.” Anna’s voice broke on the last word. “She’s here. She wants to take him with her.”

“His
grossmammi
? But I thought—”

“So did we. So did the courts.” Anna slowly lowered herself onto the couch.
Fraa
Byler sat down beside her.

Bewildered, Laura stood at the edge of the living room, unsure what to do. The fancy woman in the workshop, the one who had blatantly stared at Laura when she came out of the office, was Sawyer’s grandmother?

“Tell me what happened, Anna.”
Fraa
Byler glanced up.

“Laura, please. Sit down.”

Laura perched on the edge of a wooden chair near the couch as Anna explained how the woman, Cora Easley, had shown up at her door a couple of hours ago.

“She demanded to see Sawyer. Said he was her
grosssohn
.”

“Is he?”

“I don’t know. She says she has proof.” Anna’s eyes dampened. “I have a feeling she is telling the truth. There’s no reason for her to lie.”

Fraa
Byler pushed up her wire-rimmed glasses. “Does he know she’s here?”

Anna nodded. “And he’s not happy about it.”

Laura sat back in the chair. Her heart went out to Anna and Lukas. Cora Easley looked like a woman who was used to getting what she wanted.

“Where’s Lukas?”
Fraa
Byler’s expression resembled calm, yet her voice rose with the question.

“Talking to Sawyer’s . . . talking to Cora.”

Fraa
Byler sat up straight. “Lukas will get to the bottom of this.”

“I hope so.” Anna looked at her mother-in-law. “What are we going to do?”

“Sawyer’s an adult. He can make his own decisions.” She took Anna’s hand.

“What if he decides to leave?”

The question unnerved Laura. She shouldn’t care what Sawyer did. Or anyone else in Middlefield. But she did care.

There was no point in denying it.

“Anna, we must give this to God.”
Fraa
Byler stroked her hand. “Whatever happens, we must accept His will.”

Laura averted her gaze. God’s will again.

Everything always came down to God’s will.