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Simon!Amos braked abruptly. His heart expanded with fierce adoration.
Quick-as-a-cat, Simon shot to his feet and plowed his head into the blond boy’s belly, fighting to get the tractor back. The older boy, meanwhile, tried to tear the two apart, but he was looking over at Amos’s truck, his expression mistrusting. The elder said something to the others, who stopped their scrapping and stared at him.
Amos couldn’t move.
The door of the mobile home flew open, and out stepped a young woman with a plump, blond baby in her arms. As she came his way, Amos turned his engine off and eased out into the sultry heat to greet her. He was aware of his knees jittering. His first impression of Emma Moulton was that she appeared too young—still in her twenties—to be the mother of this brood.
Worn but clean clothing hugged a body that was slim and athletic. A blue T-shirt emphasized her full bosom, which the baby hugged possessively. Her thick, wavy hair, a light ginger brown, was caught up in a single braid.
She stopped by the bumper of his Silverado to inspect him.
“Great day, but you look just like Simon!”
Her exclamation came out in syrupy syllables in an alto voice.
Amos nodded, not sure how to greet this woman. After all, she’d kept Simon from him for two years, according to her letter.
“Emma Moulton.” She stepped up and offered him a work-roughened hand.
“Amos.” He saw nothing but honesty in her denim-blue eyes.
“Simon.” She turned toward the boys, waving them over. “All of you, come here.”
A trio of dust-covered boys approached them, but Amos had eyes for only the small one. His mouth went desert-dry in the wilting heat. Fear and uncertainty made his heart thud painfully. How could the boy standing waist-high be the same cherubic baby he’d held in his arms? Yet the silvery eyes, so like his own, were unmistakably Simon’s, as was the line of his mouth, the height of his brow.
“Simon.” Emma drew him in front of her, facing Amos. “This is your papa.”
Father and son eyeballed each other from a distance of six feet.
“Lord have mercy,” Emma exclaimed, seeing the dirt on Simon’s shoulder, then looking in dismay at her younger son. “You’d never know y’all had a bath this morning. Christopher, take these two into the house, please, and see that they scrub the dirt off their faces. And find a new shirt for Simon.”
“Yes, Mama.”
The older boy grabbed his brother by the elbow and lunged for Simon’s hand, but the little boy bolted, running ahead of them into the mobile home. The cheap aluminum door slammed shut behind him.
Emma sighed. “I told him you were coming to fetch him sooner or later. I think he hoped you wouldn’t show up.”
“I’d have been here sooner,” Amos explained, “but I only just got your letter. I live in Virginia now.” He couldn’t keep himself from adding, “Why didn’t you reach out to me earlier? You said in your letter Candace dropped him offtwo yearsago.”
Instead of cowering at the accusation in his voice, Emma lifted her chin and gave him another assessing look. “Candace told me things about you, things I hope aren’t true.”
Amos glowered. “Like what—that I was gone all the time? That was my job. That I didn’t love my son? He meant everything to me.” He stopped talking as his voice cracked.
Emma regarded him a moment longer, then nodded. “Well, I never did hold much stock in what Candace had to say.” She tipped her head. “Come on in.”
As they walked side-by-side toward the door, she startled him by asking, “Are you a Christian, Amos?”
He’d struggled at times to hold onto his faith, but God had never let go of him. “Aye.”
She looked relieved to hear it. “Good. Simon’s been with us since he was four. He’s been one of us.”
Glimpsing moisture in Emma’s eyes, Amos knew exactly what she was saying. It was important to her that Simon would be brought up in a household full of love.
Her leggy stride brought them swiftly into the smallest living area Amos had ever seen. The temperature inside was scarcely cooler. Not a single light was shining, which suggested that her power had been turned off, probably her cell phone service, too.
As bedraggled as the trailer had appeared from the outside, it was Spartan in terms of furniture and extremely tidy, considering the number of boys living in it.
Emma called down the hall. “Simon?”
