Copyright © 2008 by Wanda E. Brunstetter
ISBN 978-1-63409-943-1
eBook:
Adobe Digital Edition (epub.) 978-1-68322-020-6
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-68322-021-3
All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
All German-Dutch words are taken from the Revised Pennsylvania German Dictionary used in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Cover design: Müllerhaus Publishing Arts, Inc., www.Mullerhaus.net
For more information about Wanda E. Brunstetter, please access the author’s website at the following Internet address: www.wandabrunstetter.com
Published by Barbour Books, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, OH 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.
Printed in the United States of America.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
DEDICATION
To my dear friends, Jake and Sara Smucker, whose hope is fixed on Jesus.
With great appreciation, I wish to thank the following Ohio friends who shared information with me related to Holmes County, Ohio: Esta and Melvin Miller, Monk and Marijane Troyer, Tom and Connie Troyer, Lori Schlabach, Marlene Miller, and Sig and Evie Kobus. I also want to thank Rebecca Germany and Becky Durost Fish, my helpful editors. Most of all, I thank my heavenly Father, who continues to give me the inspiration and desire to write for Him.
Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the LORD.
PSALM 31: 24
Ar-ou-ou! Ar-ou-ou!
Piercing howls roused Martha Hostettler from her sleep, and she rolled over in bed.
Ar-ou-ou! Ar-ou-ou!
There it was again. That couldn’t be Polly. The beagle had a high-pitched howl, not deep and penetrating. Polly’s mate, Beau, must be making that awful noise.
Martha turned on the flashlight she kept on the nightstand and pointed the light at her battery-operated clock. It was three o’clock. None of Martha’s dogs ever barked or howled during the night unless something was amiss. Could Heidi have had her pups? The sheltie wasn’t due for another week or so. Maybe Beau had sensed what was going on and wanted to let Martha know.
She shook her head, trying to clear away the cobwebs of sleep. That’s ridiculous. Beau might be able to sense that Heidi’s having a problem, but I doubt he’s smart enough to let me know. Something else must have disturbed the dog.
Martha thought of the day she’d found her sheltie Fritz tied to a tree. One of his legs had also been tied up, and a bowl of water had been placed just out of his reach. Another time, Martha had found one of her puppies in the yard with its neck broken. She had wondered if whoever had been vandalizing her family’s property and attacking them in other ways could have been responsible for the puppy’s death.
A tremor shot through her body. What if someone was in the barn right now? What if they planned to hurt one of her dogs?
She pushed the covers aside and jumped out of bed. Dashing across the room, she slipped into her bathrobe, stepped into her sneakers, grabbed the flashlight, and rushed out of her room.
When Martha stepped outside, she shivered as a chilly breeze rustled the leaves. Martha hurried across the yard. As she approached the barn, she tipped her head and listened. Beau had stopped howling. The dog could have been spooked by one of the horses on the other side of the barn. She was probably worried for nothing.
Holding the flashlight with one hand and grasping the handle of the door with the other, Martha stepped into the barn. Clunk! Splat! Something cool and wet hit the top of her head. The sticky liquid dripped down her face and oozed onto her neck.
Martha aimed the flashlight at the front of her robe and groaned. She was covered in white paint! She flashed a beam of light upward and gasped. A bucket connected to a piece of rope had been suspended above the barn door. Someone had deliberately set this up! Was it a prank by some unruly kids? Or could this be another attack?
She reached for a cardboard box on a nearby shelf and fumbled around until she located a clean rag. She blotted the paint from her face the best she could. The ammonia smell identified the paint as latex. At least it would clean up with soap and warm water.
Martha hurried to her dog kennels in the back of the barn. Relief swept over her when she saw that all of the dogs—Polly, Beau, Fritz, and Heidi—were okay. And Heidi still hadn’t delivered her pups.
When Martha reached through the wire fencing and patted Beau on the head, he looked up at her and whined.
“Go back to sleep, boy. Everything’s fine.”
But it wasn’t fine. Someone had sneaked into their barn and rigged up the bucket. How long ago had it been done? Could they still be in the barn?
Martha swept the barn with her flashlight but saw no one. Satisfied that nothing else seemed to have been disturbed, she hurried outside. Glancing down, she noticed an empty pack of cigarettes on the ground.
Rustling sounded in the distance. She aimed her flashlight toward the field of dried corn behind their house. A man was running through the fields. She sucked in her breath. It was hard to tell much from this distance in the dark, but it looked like he wore a straw hat, the kind Amish men used.
Martha shuddered. If I tell Dad about seeing the man, he’ll think it was Luke. For some time, her father had suspected Luke of attacking their family, but she was convinced Luke was innocent. At least, she hoped he was.
Martha hurried to the house and headed straight for the shower. She needed to get the paint washed off. She needed time to think.
When she stepped out of the bathroom a short time later and saw a man standing in the hallway, her breath caught. “Dad! What are you doing here? I…I didn’t think anyone else was up.”
“The sound of the shower running woke me.” He frowned and pointed to her clothes lying on the floor outside the bathroom. “I’ve heard of folks sleepwalking during the night, but I never knew anyone who liked to paint in their sleep.”
“I wasn’t. I—”
“What’s going on?” Mom asked as she joined them in front of the bathroom door.
Martha quickly explained what had happened in the barn.
“Ach!” Mom gasped. “Was this another attack?”
“I…I don’t know,” Martha stammered. “It’s hard to say.”
Dad looked over at Martha, his brows furrowing. “Did you see anyone?”
“I…uh…thought I saw someone running across the field, but I didn’t get a good enough look to tell who it was.”
Ruth showed up on the scene, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “It’s the middle of the night. What’s everyone doing out of bed?”
Martha recounted her story again and ended by saying, “I’m sorry I woke everyone.”
“We needed to know what happened.” Mom slipped her arm around Martha’s waist. “It’s not safe for you to go to the barn during the night.”
“I just wanted to check on my hund. Besides, it’s not right that we can’t feel safe on our own property.” Martha looked at Dad. “Will you let the sheriff know about this?”
“What’s the point? Sheriff Osborn hasn’t done a thing to prevent any of the attacks from happening. It’s not likely he’ll start now.” Dad shrugged. “What’s done is done. Notifying the sheriff won’t change a thing.”
As Luke Friesen headed down the road in his open buggy, the pungent smell of horseflesh filled his senses. Despite the fact that he owned a pickup truck he kept hidden in the woods because his folks wouldn’t approve of it, Luke preferred horse and buggy transportation. He’d only bought the pickup because some of his Amish friends, who were also going through their running-around years, owned a vehicle. Luke figured it was expected of him. Besides, having the truck gave him the freedom to travel wherever he wanted. And it gave him an in with Rod and Tim, the English fellows he’d been hanging around for a time. Luke’s folks didn’t approve of his rowdy English friends, and they’d been after him to settle down and join the Amish church for some time. But he wasn’t ready. Some things he wanted to do, he couldn’t do as a member of the church. Besides, there was no point in joining the church when he wasn’t ready to get married. He would consider it if and when he found the right woman.
A vision of Martha Hostettler flashed across Luke’s mind. She was spunky and daring—the complete opposite of her sister, Ruth, who never liked to take chances and had seemed so subdued during the time they’d been courting. Under the right circumstances, Luke might consider courting Martha.
Luke gritted his teeth as he thought about the way Martha’s father, Roman, had fired him for being late to work a few years ago, and how, after the Hostettlers had come under attack, Roman had pointed a finger at Luke. Even though Luke had denied having anything to do with the attacks, Roman had given him the cold shoulder ever since. If the man had any idea Luke was interested in his youngest daughter, Luke was sure he and Martha would both be in trouble.
At least I have a job working for John Peterson. Guess that’s something to be grateful for. Luke snapped the reins to get the horse moving faster. If I’m not careful, I’ll end up being late for work because I’m allowing my horse to plod along while I think about someone I can’t have.
The buggy jolted and leaned to the right. “Whoa! Steady, boy.” He pulled back on the reins and grimaced when he saw his left buggy wheel roll onto the opposite side of the road. Good thing there were no cars going by at the moment.
Luke guided the horse and buggy to the shoulder of the road, jumped down, and sprinted over to the buggy wheel. “Great,” he muttered. “Now I will be late for work.”
Luke lugged the wheel over to his buggy and spent the next several minutes looking for the nut that had come off. When he couldn’t find it, he reached into his toolbox in the back of the buggy and took out another nut. He’d just squatted down in front of the buggy to set the wheel in place, when Sheriff Osborn’s car pulled up behind him.
“Looks like you lost a wheel,” the sheriff said as he sauntered over to Luke.
“That’s what happened, all right.” Luke grimaced. “It’s gonna make me late for work.”
“Need any help?”
“Sure, I’d appreciate that.” Luke’s nose twitched as Sheriff Osborn knelt on the ground next to the buggy wheel. The sheriff’s clothes reeked of cigarette smoke, which made Luke think the man was either a heavy smoker or had recently been around someone who smoked.
“Are you still working for John Peterson?” the sheriff asked as he helped Luke lift the wheel and set it in place.
Luke nodded. “Sure am.”
“Do you like working for John better than you did Roman?”
“John’s a good boss—always patient and fair with me,” Luke said without really answering the sheriff’s question. “Of course I don’t know how he’ll react to me being late today.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand when you tell him what happened with your buggy wheel.”
“I appreciate your help,” Luke said once the wheel had been securely fastened.
Sheriff Osborn reached into his pocket, pulled out a pack of gum, and popped a piece into his mouth. “No problem. Glad I came along when I did. If you’d had to fix the wheel yourself, you’d be even later for work.” He turned toward his car. “Guess I’d better get back to the business at hand. I got a report that there have been too many cars going over the speed limit on this stretch of road, so I figured I’d better nip it in the bud.”
Luke shuffled his feet a few times, trying to think of the best way to say what was on his mind.
“You’re looking kind of thoughtful there,” Sheriff Osborn said as he chomped on his wad of gum. “Have you got something on your mind?”
“I…uh…was wondering if you’ve had any leads on who’s behind the attacks against the Hostettlers.”
“Nope, sure don’t. As far as I know, there haven’t been any more attacks at their place in some time.” The sheriff stuck another piece of gum in his mouth. “I might have caught the culprit responsible for the attacks if Roman had let me know about them sooner.” He kicked a pebble with the toe of his boot. “From what I understand, it’s not against the Amish religion to notify the police, so I can’t figure out why Roman kept quiet about most of those attacks.”
Luke shrugged. “I guess he figured it was best to turn the other cheek and not involve the law unless it became absolutely necessary.”
“You’re probably right.” The sheriff turned toward his car again. “I’d better be on my way and let you get to work. Wouldn’t want to see you lose your job on my account.” He waved as he climbed into his car.
Luke checked the wheel over once more for good measure, gave his horse a quick pat, and stepped into his buggy.
When he arrived at John’s shop, he found John sitting behind his desk, talking on the phone. Figuring it best not to disturb him, Luke hurried to the back room to put away his lunch box. When he returned, John was off the phone.
“Sorry for being late,” Luke apologized. “One of my buggy wheels fell off, and I had to stop and fix it.”
“Of course you did.” John smiled. “Your being late’s not a problem. Some things happen that we can’t control.”
Luke wiped the sweat from his forehead as he drew in a quick breath. “I appreciate your understanding. I was afraid you might fire me the way Roman did when I worked for him.”
A deep wrinkle formed above John’s slightly crooked nose. “No one should be punished for something that isn’t his fault.”
Luke nodded. Working for John was sure easier than working for Roman had been. Nothing had ever seemed to be good enough for that man. Every time Luke had an idea about how something should be done, Roman had vetoed it.
“What would you like me to do this morning?” Luke asked as he moved toward John’s desk.
John motioned to several cabinet doors stacked against the wall. “You can begin sanding those while I go over to Keim Lumber to pick up some supplies.” He stood. “I shouldn’t be gone long. If any customers show up, go ahead and write up the orders.”
Luke nodded. It felt good to have John’s trust. Roman never trusted him. He grimaced. Why do I keep comparing John to Roman, and why can’t I stop thinking about how things used to be when I worked for Roman?
When John left the shop, Luke began working on the doors. John’s beagle, Flo, who’d been lying on an old rug near John’s desk, ambled over to Luke with a pathetic whine.
He bent down, and the dog licked his hand. “You don’t miss John already, do you, girl? Are you craving some attention?”
The dog responded with a low whimper then flopped on the floor a few feet from where Luke stood.
As Luke plucked a piece of sandpaper, he thought about Martha and wondered how her dog business was doing. She’d sold Flo to John because the dog was barren, and she’d used the money to buy another dog she hoped to use for breeding purposes.
Luke wished he felt free to stop by the Hostettlers’ to see Martha, but he knew if Roman saw him talking to her, he wouldn’t like it. Luke and Roman would probably end up having words. He thought too highly of Martha to cause trouble between her and her dad. Luke figured it was best if he stayed away from the Hostettler place. Besides, there were other things he needed to do today.
Martha stood in front of the counter in Irene Schrock’s kitchen, rolling out dough for the pies they would serve when a busload of tourists came for supper the following evening. Her thoughts wandered as she pushed the rolling pin back and forth. She couldn’t forget about the incident in the barn. Even though Martha had been the one who’d gotten doused with paint, Mom had been so distraught that her hands shook all during breakfast, and poor Ruth had seemed equally shaken. Dad hadn’t said more than a few words. He’d gulped down his oatmeal and rushed out the door, saying he needed to get out to his woodworking shop because he had a backlog of work.
A trickle of sweat rolled down Martha’s forehead, and she lifted the corner of her work apron to wipe it away. Who had put that bucket of paint above the door, and why had they done it?
She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Dear Lord, please make this insanity stop.
Someone touched her shoulder. Martha dropped the rolling pin and whirled around.
“Are you okay?” Irene asked. “You’re not feeling grank, I hope.”
“I’m…uh…no, I’m not feeling sick. At least not physically.”
Irene’s dark eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean, not physically?”
“Something happened at our place early this morning that left us all feeling troubled.”
“What happened?” Irene’s eighteen-year-old daughter, Carolyn, asked.
“Someone rigged up a bucket of white paint and hung it above our barn door. When I went out to check on my dogs, the paint spilled on me.”
Irene gasped. “Ach! Who would do such a thing?”
“We have no idea.” Martha wasn’t about to mention the Amish man she thought she’d seen running through the field. No point in giving Irene something to talk about with others in their community. There had been enough talk already as to who might be responsible for these attacks.
“Did your daed notify Sheriff Osborn?” Carolyn asked.
Martha shrugged. “I doubt it. Just like most of the other times when we’ve been attacked, Dad thinks he should turn the other cheek and say nothing to the sheriff.”
“Do you agree with that, Martha?”
Martha wasn’t sure how to answer Carolyn’s question. Even though she had her own opinion, she didn’t want to say anything that would make Dad look bad. “I think whoever has been doing the attacks will keep on doing them until they are caught,” she replied.
“But how will they ever be caught if your daed refuses to notify the sheriff?”
“The best thing for all of us to do is to pray about the matter,” Irene intervened. She patted Martha’s arm. “In the meantime, we have some pies that need to be baked.”
“You’re right. I should get busy.” Martha grabbed the rolling pin. She would keep her hands busy when she was working for Irene or caring for her dogs, but during her free time, she hoped to find out who was behind the attacks. She only wished she could talk to someone about this. But who could she trust not to say anything to Dad?
I’ll begin by making a list of every attack, she decided. After that, I’ll make a list of suspects, which will include a motive and any opportunities they might have had to attack.
“I guess it won’t be long now until your sister gets married,” Irene said.
Martha nodded. “Ruth and Abe’s wedding will be two months after Sadie and Toby’s. I’ll have a part in both.”
“What will you be doing?” Carolyn asked as she reached into the cupboard for a bag of flour.
“I’ll be an attendant at Ruth’s wedding and a table server at Sadie’s.”
Irene slipped two apple-crumb pies into the oven and shut the door. “It’s nice that Ruth and Abe have found love again. I think they’ll have a good marriage and Ruth will make a fine mudder to Abe’s kinner.”
Martha couldn’t argue with that. Ruth had talked about becoming a mother ever since she was a little girl playing with her dolls. Sadly, Ruth’s hopes had been dashed on Christmas Eve, nearly a year ago. Her husband’s buggy had been rammed off the road, and Martin had been killed. Ruth’s injuries had left her unable to have children.
Irene touched Martha’s shoulder. “Will your aunt Rosemary be able to attend Ruth’s wedding?”
“I hope so. She found a buyer for her house in Boise, Idaho, so if she gets everything wrapped up soon, she should be moved here to Ohio in plenty of time for the wedding.”
Irene smiled. “It’s nice that Rosemary’s part of your family again. I’m sure your daed missed her very much when she was gone those thirty-some years.”
Martha nodded. Dad had missed his sister, but until a few months ago, he’d never admitted it.
“Since Rosemary will be moving back to Holmes County, maybe she’ll consider joining the Amish church.”
Martha made another pass with the rolling pin over the dough and turned to face Irene. “I think if Aunt Rosemary had it to do over again, she wouldn’t have left the Amish faith and married an Englisher. But she’s been English most of her life, so I doubt she’d be willing to give up all the modern conveniences she’s become used to.” She lifted the dough and placed it in an empty pie pan. “Besides, her son and his wife are English. It might make it hard on their relationship if she went Amish again.”
Irene smiled. “I see what you mean.”
“Will Rosemary’s family be coming to Ruth’s wedding?” Carolyn asked.
“As far as I know. I’m anxious to meet them, too.” Martha smiled. “Until Aunt Rosemary’s surprise visit to Holmes County several months ago, I didn’t even know I had an English cousin.” Martha smiled.
A knock at the back door interrupted their conversation, and Carolyn scooted to the other side of the kitchen to answer it. A few seconds later, Martha’s brother-in-law, Cleon, entered the room, carrying a cardboard box.
“These are for you,” he said, smiling at his mother. “I figured with all the dinners you’ve been hosting lately, you might be running low on honey.”
“Danki, son.” Irene motioned to the counter. “Why don’t you set the box over there? Carolyn can put the jars of honey in the pantry after we finish with the pies.”
“Sure thing.” Cleon set the box down then turned to face his mother. “If my bees keep producing the way they are now, eventually I might be able to build a small store on my property. I’d like to have a place close to home where I can sell some of my honey, as well as those nice beeswax candles you and Carolyn make.”
Irene smiled. “I think that’s a good idea.”
Cleon moved closer to Martha. “I heard about the dousing you got in the wee hours of the morning.”
She nodded. “Dad wasn’t too happy about having to clean up the mess in his barn, and I wasn’t happy about the mess all over me.”
“I suggested that Roman keep the barn locked. That’s what I’ve been doing with my own barn since I discovered one of my new ladders had a broken rung.” Cleon grimaced. “I’m sure someone cut it.”
“What did Dad say?” Martha asked.
“He said he’d think about locking the barn at night.”
“Why only at night?” Carolyn asked.
“I guess he figures no one’s likely to come around during the day—especially since someone in the family is usually around.”
“That’s true,” Irene said. “Most of the attacks against your family have occurred at night.”
“Or when we’ve been away from home,” Martha quickly added. “Truthfully, I doubt that Dad will take Cleon’s suggestion about locking the barn, but I hope he will. After what happened last night, I’m worried about my dogs.”
As Luke left John’s woodworking shop and headed toward home, he spotted another buggy ahead of him and realized it was Martha Hostettler’s. He flicked the reins to get his horse trotting and pulled into the oncoming lane to pass her. As his buggy came alongside Martha’s, he slowed the horse and motioned her to pull onto the shoulder of the road. Once her rig was stopped, he pulled in behind her, hopped down, and skirted around to her side of the buggy. “Wie geht’s, Martha?”
“I’m fine now, but I wasn’t doing so well in the wee hours of the morning,” she replied.
He tipped his head in question.
“I got doused with a bucket of paint when I went out to the barn to check on my dogs.”
Luke’s mouth dropped open. “How did that happen?”
“Someone rigged the bucket so it would spill when the barn door opened.”
“You weren’t hurt, were you?”
Martha shook her head. “Just looked a mess, with white paint all over me and my clothes.” She grunted. “It’s a good thing the paint was water based, or I’d probably still be wearing a white face.”
Luke grimaced. “I suppose your daed will blame me for what happened.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because he’s accused me of doing other things to your family.” Luke shook his head. “I’d never do anything like that. You believe me, don’t you, Martha?”
She stared at her hands, folded in her lap. “Jah, I do.”
A feeling of relief washed over Luke like a fresh spring rain. If Martha believed Luke was innocent, maybe she could convince her dad that he had nothing to do with the attacks. If Luke could get Roman to see the truth, he might have a chance at courting Martha. Truth was, ever since he and Martha had shared a pizza together a few months ago, she’d been on his mind.
“I had a little calamity myself this morning,” Luke said.
“What happened?”
“I was heading to work, and my left front buggy wheel came off.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “Did you have the tools you needed to fix it?”
Luke nodded. “Sheriff Osborn happened along, and he helped me put the wheel back on. Even so, I was late for work.”
“Did you get in trouble with John?”
“Nope. Not even a harsh word.” He grunted. “Not like when your daed jumped all over me for being late a couple of times. He was after me for just about everything I did when I worked for him.”
Martha’s mouth turned down. “I’m sorry about that, Luke. I truly am.”
He shook his head. “It’s not your fault your daed’s so hard to please.”
She gave no reply.
“I hope I didn’t offend you,” Luke was quick to say. “I probably sound like I’m griping. It’s not right for me to be bad-mouthing your daed—especially not to you.”
“It’s okay; I’m not offended. I know how difficult my daed can be at times.”
Luke figured it was time for another topic. “How are things going with your dogs these days?” he asked.
“Fairly well. My sheltie Heidi is due to have her hundlin any day, and Polly, the beagle I bought at the dog auction some time ago, is also expecting.”
“That’s good to hear. If you’re going to raise dogs, you need some puppies you can sell.”
Martha smiled. “I enjoy working for Irene, but I hope someday I’ll make enough money with my kennel business to support myself.”
“Speaking of kennels, did you read the article in the newspaper this morning, accusing some Amish folks of running puppy mills?”
Martha shook her head. “I didn’t have time to read the paper. What did the article say?”
“It said that some Amish are raising puppies without a kennel license and that a few of them have been investigated and accused of neglecting and even abusing their dogs.”
Martha shook her head. “I would never neglect or abuse any dog. No one I know who raises dogs would either.” She sucked in her lower lip. “Did Gary Walker write the story? It would be just like him to write something like that.”
Luke shrugged. “I can’t remember who wrote the article. Fact is, I was so disturbed while reading it that I didn’t pay any attention to the reporter’s name.”
Martha sniffed as though some foul odor had permeated the air. “Gary Walker is so arrogant and pushy.” She leaned toward Luke. “Between you and me, I think my sister might be right about him being to blame for the attacks against my family.”
A sense of relief shot through Luke. If Martha thinks Gary is responsible for the attacks, then she must believe I had nothing to do with any of them. Maybe there’s some hope for us. Should I ask her out? Would she think I was being too bold?
He stared down at his boots, unable to make eye contact with her. “Uh…remember the day we had pizza together?”
“Jah.”
“I enjoyed being with you.”
“I enjoyed our time together, too,” she said in a near whisper.
He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out for pizza again.”
She hesitated and stared at her hands. “I’d like that, Luke, but—”
“Are you worried about someone seeing us together and telling your daed?”
She nodded.
“How about we meet at the pizza place in Berlin this Saturday at noon? If anyone sees us there, we can just say we happened to meet and are sharing a table.”
“I…I guess that would be all right.”
“Great. I’ll look forward to seeing you then.” Luke turned and sprinted for his buggy. He liked Martha’s spunky attitude and thought she was fun to be with. Now if he could only gain her daed’s approval.
As Martha sat across from Luke at a table in the pizza place on Saturday, her heartbeat picked up speed. She could hardly believe Luke had suggested they meet for lunch. Did his invitation mean he had more than a casual interest in her? She hoped it did. There was only one problem: Dad. Martha was certain he would never give his blessing for her to be courted by the man he thought might be responsible for the attacks against their family.
“After we met the other day, I went home and read that newspaper article you’d mentioned about the puppy mills,” Martha said, pushing her thoughts aside.
“What’d you think?”
“I was right—the reporter was Gary Walker. It made me wonder if he’s trying to make all Amish look bad.”
“Why would he want to do that?”
She shrugged. “It could stem from his anger when Grace broke up with him during her rumschpringe years.”
“Do you really think that he’s still carrying a grudge about something that happened during your sister’s running-around years?”
“Grace thinks he is. She’s sure Gary’s responsible for every attack, even though she has no proof.” Martha fingered the edge of her water glass. “I keep hoping the attacks will end, but it’s beginning to look like they never will—at least not until we know who’s been doing them and they’re made to stop.”
“I agree,” Luke said with a nod. “But since there’s nothing we can do about that at the moment, how about we order some pizza?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“What kind would you like?”
Martha studied the menu their young English waitress had brought to the table. “With the exception of anchovies, there isn’t any pizza topping I don’t like.” She smiled at Luke. “Why don’t you decide?”
“How about sausage and black olives? Does that sound gut to you?”
“It sounds real good.”
“Should we get a pitcher of root beer to go with it?”
“That’s fine with me.”
When the waitress returned to the table, Luke placed their order. After the waitress walked away, he leaned across the table to say something but was interrupted when Toby King and Sadie Esh entered the restaurant and sauntered up.
“I didn’t expect to see you two here today—especially sittin’ at the same table.” Toby thumped Luke on the shoulder. “Are you and Martha courting?”
Luke’s face turned bright red. Martha figured hers had, too, for her cheeks felt as hot as fire. “Luke and I are just sharing a pizza together,” she was quick to say. No point in giving Toby something to gossip about.
Toby gave Luke’s shoulder another good whack; then he pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. “Mind if Sadie and I join you?”
“Looks like you already have,” Luke mumbled.
Toby looked at Sadie, who stood beside Martha’s chair with a bewildered expression. “Aren’t you gonna sit and join us?”
Sadie shuffled her feet and glanced at an empty table across the room. “I…uh…sort of figured—”
“Aw, I’m sure Luke and Martha don’t mind if we join ’em. Besides, we’ll be alone plenty after we’re married.” Toby gave Sadie a quick wink. “Have a seat.”
Sadie hesitated but finally sat down.
Martha reached over and touched Sadie’s arm. “November will be here in a few more weeks. It won’t be long until you and Toby are married. How are your wedding plans coming along?”
Sadie’s face relaxed. “Pretty well. My mamm and I have begun cleaning the house for the wedding meal, and—”
“If everyone who got an invitation shows up, we might have over three hundred guests,” Toby interrupted. “Since my daed’s the bishop in our church district, I figure we’ll have a real good turnout.”
Luke cast Toby a disapproving look, and Martha grimaced. She didn’t think Toby should be bragging about how many guests might be at his wedding. Truthfully, she’d never understood what Sadie saw in Toby, but then she guessed love was blind when it came to certain things. Look at me, she thought ruefully. I’ve allowed myself to foolishly fall for Luke. Martha refused to let herself believe Dad might be right about Luke. If only she could prove Luke’s innocence. Maybe I can. If I keep notes and study that list of suspects I made the other night, I might discover who the attacker is and clear Luke’s name.
Toby nudged Luke. “Do you still have that truck you keep hidden in the woods? I think everyone but your folks knows about it.”
Luke’s mouth dropped open. “Well, I—”
“You oughta sell that truck, find yourself a nice young woman to marry, and join the church.” Toby grinned over at Sadie. “It took me awhile to realize I wanted to get married, but once I made up my mind, there was no stopping me from proposing.”
Sadie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Excuse me? If you’ll recall, I was the one who asked if you’d be willing to marry me.”
Toby gave her a sheepish grin; then he elbowed Luke again. “So what do you say? Are you gonna sell that truck and settle down to marriage soon?”
“I’ll sell it when I’m good and ready.” Luke’s dark eyes flashed angrily. “It’s not your place to be telling me what to do!”
Martha swallowed hard and reached for her glass of water. She took a quick drink and stood.
“Where are you going?” Toby asked.
“To the ladies’ room.”
“I’ll go with you.” Sadie rose from her chair and glanced down at Toby. “When the waitress comes, would you please order a medium-sized pizza with Canadian bacon and mushrooms?”
He squinted. “I thought you only liked pepperoni and cheese.”
She shook her head. “It’s you who likes pepperoni. I prefer Canadian bacon with mushrooms.”
He lifted his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “Jah, okay.”
Martha scurried off toward the restroom with Sadie beside her. Once they were inside, she turned to Sadie and said, “I just can’t figure out what the problem is between Toby and Luke.”
“I don’t know. Toby and Luke used to be such good friends. I first noticed some problems between them when Luke was dating Ruth.” Sadie groaned. “It made me wonder if Toby might be jealous.”
Martha squinted. “Why would Toby have been jealous of Luke dating my sister?”
“For a while, I thought maybe Toby might be interested in Ruth, but when I asked him about it, he said he had no designs on Ruth. When she broke up with Luke and started dating Martin Gingerich, Toby said he was glad—that he thought Martin was a better choice for Ruth and he hoped they’d be real happy.” Sadie frowned. “Ruth was happy, but for such a short time—until Martin’s life was taken by whoever rammed their buggy last winter.”
Martha nodded as the memory of that fateful night invaded her mind. She and her family had been waiting for Ruth and Martin to show up for Christmas Eve supper, but they never came. Dad and Cleon had gone out looking for Martin’s buggy and discovered they’d been in a horrible accident. At the hospital, they’d been told that Martin was dead and Ruth needed a hysterectomy. Ruth had been devastated when she’d learned that she’d not only lost her husband of two months but would never be able to have any children of her own either.
“I’m glad Ruth’s found love again,” Sadie said. “She deserves to be happy. I know she’ll make a fine fraa for Abe and be a good mudder to his kinner.”
Martha nodded. “All of Abe’s children, especially Esta, have taken a liking to Ruth.”
“So, are you and Luke courting?” Sadie whispered.
“Of course not. I told you at the table that Luke and I are just sharing a pizza.” Martha slid over in front of the mirror to be sure her kapp was on straight.
“I can tell you like him. It’s written all over your face.” Sadie stood beside Martha. “I think Luke likes you, too.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I never saw Luke look at Ruth the way he looked at you out there.”
Martha felt the heat of a blush sweep across her face, and she covered her cheeks with her hands. “Even if I do feel something for Luke, and even if he returns those feelings, there’s no hope of us ever being together.”
“Why not?”
“Unless someone can prove that Luke’s not responsible for the attacks against our family, Dad would never give his blessing for Luke to court me.”
Sadie’s eyes widened. “You don’t really think Luke had anything to do with those horrible things, do you?”
“Not me. But my daed suspects Luke.”
“He has no proof, right?”
Martha shook her head. “There’s no proof of Luke’s innocence either.”
“What are you going to do?”
Martha shrugged. She wasn’t about to tell Sadie that she planned to do some investigating on her own. Sadie might tell Toby. Knowing Toby, he’d probably blab it to his dad or someone else. For now, Martha would tell no one what she planned to do.
Luke leaned his elbows on the table and stared at Toby. “Are you trying to make me look bad in front of Martha?”
Toby’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I think you know what I mean. You brought up my truck, made it sound like I wasn’t a good person because I hadn’t joined the church, and suggested I marry Martha.”
“Huh?” Toby’s eyebrows shot up. “I never said that.”
“Jah, well, you said I should find a good woman to marry, and you looked right at Martha when you said it.” Luke grunted. “What were you trying to do, give her some hope of something that’s never going to happen?”
“Does that mean you don’t like her?”
“Jah, I like her; Martha’s very nice. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to marry her.”
Toby ran his index finger around the middle of his glass. “If you started courtin’ Martha, you might fall in love and decide to get married, jah?”
Luke shrugged.
“Is there something holding you back?”
“Of course there’s something. Martha’s daed, that’s what’s holding me back!”
Toby gave him a knowing look. “That’s right. You’re not one of Roman Hostettler’s favorite people these days, are you?”
Luke shook his head. “Unless I can prove I’m not responsible for the attacks that have been made on Roman’s family, I’ll probably never be accepted by him.”
“How you gonna prove that?”
“I don’t know.”
“If you ask me, the best thing you can do is sell that truck and—”
Luke held up his hand. “Enough about my truck. Like I said before, I’ll sell it when I’m ready.”
Toby wrinkled his nose. “You always did like to have the last word, didn’t you?”
Luke opened his mouth to defend himself but closed it again. What was the point of discussing something with someone who obviously wanted to goad him into an argument? For some time, Toby seemed to need to make Luke look bad. Ever since they were twelve years old and Luke had been declared the winner of a game of horseshoes Toby thought he should have won, there’d been a competitive spirit between them. Could Toby still be holding a grudge because Luke had always been able to do things better than him?
Luke balled his napkin into the palm of his hand. Can I help it if I’m better at playing ball, buggy racing, and fishing than Toby? He ought to grow up.
Martha and Sadie returned to the table just then, and Luke pushed his thoughts aside. He didn’t want his lunch with Martha to be ruined, so he would do whatever was needed in order to keep the peace with Toby.
Luke was glad when their pizzas finally came. Now he could concentrate on eating.
By the time they’d finished their pizza and Sadie and Toby had left the restaurant, Martha’s nerves were taut. Not only had she and Luke not been able to visit during their meal, but there’d been such tension between Luke and Toby that it had been hard to think of anything to talk about. She hadn’t enjoyed her pizza that much either.
“What was the problem between you and Toby?” Martha asked Luke as they walked out the door and approached her buggy.
Luke leaned against the driver’s side of the buggy and folded his arms. “I think Toby is falsch.”
“Resentful? Why do you think that?”
“Ever since we were kinner, I’ve been able to do things better than him.”
She pursed her lips. “Lots of people can do things better than me, and I don’t feel falsch toward them.”
“Jah, well, Toby’s the bishop’s son. I think he feels he has to live up to his daed’s expectations to be perfect.”
“That’s narrisch. I doubt anyone expects Toby to be perfect just because his daed’s the head minister in our church.”
“It might seem crazy, but if Toby thinks he’s expected to be perfect and knows he’s not…” Luke reached under his straw hat and scratched his head. “And if he’s struggling with issues concerning me…”
“Then he needs to get over it,” Martha interrupted. “He needs to be the best person he can, not compare himself to you or anyone else.”
“That’s what I think, too.” Luke moved away from the buggy and reached out to stroke Martha’s horse behind its ear. “I’ve been thinking about the attacks at your place. I wonder if someone might be trying to make me look guilty in order to get even with me for something.”
“Like who?”
He turned his hands palm up. “I don’t know, but I’m aiming to find out.”
“How?”
Luke shrugged. “Haven’t figured it out yet.”
Martha drew in a deep breath and decided to say what was on her mind. “Would it be all right if I asked you a personal question, Luke?”
“Ask away.”
“Would you mind telling me where you were around three o’clock on Thursday morning?”
“In bed of course. Where else would I be in the middle of the night?”
She swiped her tongue over her lower lip as she struggled for the right words. Should she tell Luke that she’d seen a man dressed in Amish clothes running across the field?
Luke took a step closer to Martha. “Why did you ask where I was early Thursday morning? You don’t think I had anything to do with you getting doused with that bucket of paint, I hope.”
She swallowed hard. “When I left the barn, I shined my flashlight on the field behind our house, and I saw a man who looked like he was wearing Amish clothes running through the field.”
Luke slapped his hands together, causing Martha to jump and her horse to whinny. “I told you someone’s trying to make it look like it’s me!” He shook his head vigorously. “It wasn’t me, Martha. You’ve got to believe me.”
“I want to believe you, and I’m hoping to do some investigating so I can find out who’s responsible.”
Luke’s face blanched. “You’re kidding, right?”
She shook her head.
“Snooping around could get you in trouble with your daed, not to mention that it could be dangerous if the culprit finds out you’re onto him.”
“Or her. It could be a woman, you know.”
Luke grasped Martha’s arm. “Promise you won’t do anything on your own?”
“I can’t make that promise. I—”
“How about we work together on solving these crimes?” he suggested. “After all, ‘two heads are better than one.’”
She nodded as a sense of relief flooded her soul. If Luke wanted to help her find out who was responsible for the attacks, then he couldn’t be responsible.
Where are you going?” Mom asked as Martha headed for the back door. “If we don’t get this kitchen cleaned up right away, we’ll be late for Sadie and Toby’s wedding.”
Martha grabbed a shawl from the wall peg near the door. “I know, but I want to check on Heidi’s puppies.”
Mom sighed as she lifted her gaze toward the ceiling. “You and those hundlin. I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t late for your own wedding because you were checking on some dog.”
“Heidi’s puppies are only a couple of days old, Mom. I need to be sure all five are getting plenty of milk. One of them’s a runt, you know.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine. Heidi did well with her last batch of pups, didn’t she?”
Martha nodded. “Except for that one pup I found dead in the yard.”
“Accidents happen,” Mom said.
“I know.”
“My point is,” Mom said in a patient tone, “that you spend too much time with your hundlin and not enough time socializing. You’ll never find a husband if you don’t take an interest in courting.”
“I’d need to find someone interested in courting me first.”
Mom reached for the dishwashing liquid. “I’m sure the right man’s out there. You’ve just got to look for him.”
I’ve already found him; I just can’t tell you who he is, Martha thought as she draped her woolen shawl across her shoulders. Besides, Luke may never come to like me the way I do him. “I’ll dry the dishes as soon as I get back from the barn,” she said.
Ruth entered the room just then. “I’ll dry the dishes so Martha can check on her hundlin.” She grabbed a sponge from the counter and began wiping off the tablecloth. “I know she wants to be sure they’re all right before we leave for the wedding.”
“Danki, Ruth.”
“You’re welcome.” Ruth made a clicking noise with her tongue as she wagged a finger in Martha’s direction. “Just make sure you’re not checking on puppies the day of my wedding. I can’t have my main attendant being late to the service.”
“I promise I won’t be late.” Martha slipped out the door and hurried for the barn. She found it unlocked, but that was no surprise since Dad had done his chores earlier that morning. Ever since the paint episode, he’d been locking the barn door at night. It remained unlocked during the day, but Martha wasn’t too concerned because someone was usually at home.
When Martha entered the dog run where she kept Heidi and her pups, she gasped. One of the puppies was dead! Her thoughts went to the day she’d found one of Heidi’s first batch of pups with a broken neck. It was the puppy she’d promised to give Grace’s daughter, Anna. The child had been devastated, refusing the offer of another pup. Martha had never figured out the reason the puppy had broken its neck, but she had a hunch someone might have done it on purpose.
“I’m sorry, Heidi,” Martha said, patting the sheltie’s head. “I hope this puppy wasn’t the victim of another attack.”
Heidi whimpered and lifted her head as Martha reached into the box and picked up the dead pup. It was the runt of the litter. Maybe it hadn’t been foul play, after all. The barn door had been locked last night. Perhaps the puppy hadn’t been getting enough milk or had gotten stuck under its mother and smothered. Now she was down to only four puppies, which meant one less pup to sell. Would she ever get her kennel business going well enough to make a decent living? Hopefully, Polly, her female beagle who was due to have a litter soon, would deliver a healthy bunch of pups. Most shelties sold for anywhere from $300 to $350, but beagles only brought in $200 to $250 if they were trained to run rabbits. Martha would be grateful for whatever she made from either of her female dogs.
She glanced down at the limp pup in her hand. Maybe I’m not supposed to raise hundlin. Maybe I should look for a full-time job. She shook her head. No, I’m happiest when I’m caring for my dogs.
“What do you mean you’ve got to work today?” Luke’s mother asked when Luke announced that he wouldn’t be going to Sadie and Toby’s wedding.
“It’s Thursday, Mom,” Luke said around a mouthful of oatmeal. “John wasn’t invited to the wedding, and he’s open for business as usual.”
“Couldn’t you have asked for the day off to attend your friend’s wedding?” she persisted.
“I didn’t feel like I could. We’ve got a lot of orders. John needs me in the shop while he makes some deliveries. Besides, Toby and I aren’t getting along so well these days. I doubt he’ll even miss me.”
“Of course he will.” Mom reached over and touched Luke’s arm. “You and Toby have been friends since you were kinner.”
“We used to be friends. Here lately, though, all we do is argue.”
“Can’t you bury your differences for one day? You know what the Bible says about—”