A Sister's Hope (17 page)

Read A Sister's Hope Online

Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance, #Contemporary

Ruth tore the wrapping off the package and withdrew a lovely
sampler. Her and Abe’s names had been embroidered on it, as well as the names of his five surviving children—her children now.

She thought about the sampler Martha had given her when she’d married Martin. After his death, she’d packed the sampler away because it had hurt too much to look at it and be reminded of her loss. But now that Abe and his children were in Ruth’s life, she felt as if she was being offered a second chance, and for that she was grateful.

“The sampler is beautiful,” she said, tears clogging her throat. “Danki, Martha.”

“You’re welcome.”

Just then, Abe’s daughter Esta stepped up to the table and handed Ruth a small box wrapped in white tissue paper. “This is for you. Papa helped me pick it out, and I paid for it with some money I earned cleanin’ the floor in Papa’s harness shop.”

Ruth smiled and took the gift from the child. “It was sweet of you to think of me.”

Esta’s eyes twinkled as she wiggled around. “Aren’t you gonna open it?”

“Jah, of course.” Ruth tore the paper off the box and lifted the lid. Inside lay a delicate hanky with white lace around the edges. She gave Esta a hug. “Danki, it’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it—” The child hesitated then leaned close to Ruth’s ear. “Is it all right if I call you Mama now?”

Ruth nodded and swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I’d like that very much. I hope your
brieder
and little schweschder will call me Mama, too.”

“I’m sure my sister will. After all, Molly’s been callin’ you
mammi
ever since you came to work for Papa.” Esta frowned. “I’m not sure about the brothers, though—at least not Gideon. He’s such an old sourpuss these days. He might refuse to call you Mama just ’cause he’s so stubborn.”

Ruth glanced around. “Where are Molly and your brothers?” she asked, making no comment about Gideon’s recent behavior. Today was a special day, and she didn’t want to think about anything negative. “Did your daed gather all of you together so my aunt Rosemary could
take your picture?” she asked, patting Esta’s arm.

Esta’s head bobbed up and down. “After the picture takin’ was done, Molly started to fuss, so—”

“Grace took our little girl over to her house,” Abe said, stepping up beside Esta.

“See you later, Mama.” Esta gave Ruth a quick hug and darted away.

Abe reclaimed his seat and leaned close to Ruth. His warm breath against her neck caused her to shiver. “Grace and Cleon volunteered to keep our brood until tomorrow morning, so it’ll just be you and me staying here with your folks tonight.”

Ruth’s cheeks warmed at the thought of spending the night with Abe sleeping next to her. Would he find her desirable even though she could never give him a baby? Would he be tender and loving, the way Martin had been?

As if sensing Ruth’s reservations, Abe reached under the table and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Tomorrow, after we’ve helped clean things up here, we’ll take our kinner home to our place and begin a new life together.”

Ruth smiled and squeezed Abe’s fingers in response. “I’m looking forward to that.”

R
uth was getting ready to put a pot roast in the oven for supper, when Gideon stepped into the kitchen. “Are you just getting home from school?” she asked, glancing at the battery-operated clock above the refrigerator. “The others have been here for nearly an hour already.”

Gideon scrunched up his nose. “Teacher kept me after school. Didn’t Esta tell you I was gonna be late?”

Ruth’s forehead wrinkled. “No, she just said you hadn’t walked with them. I figured you’d walked by yourself through the woods or had decided to walk with some of your friends.”

“I ain’t got no friends,” he said, shaking snow off his stocking cap.


Don’t have any
,” she corrected. “And what makes you think you don’t have any friends?”

Gideon hung his coat and hat on a wall peg and flopped into a chair at the kitchen table. “ ’Cause nobody wants to be around me, that’s what!”

Ruth put the roast into the oven and took a seat in the chair opposite him. “Does this have something to do with you having to stay after school?”

He shrugged.

“Gideon, I need to know what’s going on. I can’t help if you don’t talk about it.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, and you ain’t my mamm, so I don’t
need your help, Ruth!” Gideon pushed his chair away from the table and rushed out the door as the chair toppled over with a crash.

Ruth sighed. All of Abe’s children except Gideon had begun calling her
Mama
. She had a hunch he hadn’t because he resented her marriage to his dad. Could that resentment be the cause of Gideon’s problems at school?

As Martha directed her buggy horse toward Irene’s house, a feeling of despair settled over her like a drenching rain. She was thankful for this job but wished she could become self-supporting through her kennel business.

Without telling her folks about the book Luke had given her, she’d mentioned the possibility of dog grooming to them the other night. Dad had said he thought it would be too much work because Martha had enough to do right now with her job at Irene’s and raising puppies. Mom’s only comment was that she thought Martha should give up working with dogs altogether and find a husband.

Thinking about marriage made Martha’s thoughts turn to Luke. She’d only seen him once since Ruth and Abe’s wedding—at their biweekly preaching service, which had been held at his folks’ house. After the service, Luke had disappeared, so she hadn’t been able to say hello, much less ask if he’d had any success finding out who was behind the attacks.

Of course I haven’t learned anything yet, either,
she thought ruefully. Preparations for Ruth’s wedding had kept Martha busy for weeks. She’d also had her dogs and her job at Irene’s. During the holidays, they’d been busier than ever, serving dinners to the employees of several local businesses that had decided to host their Christmas parties at an Amish sit-down dinner.

Tonight, they would be cooking for people who worked at the newspaper in Millersburg. Since they’d been too busy to accommodate the group before Christmas, it would be an after-the-holidays gathering.

Having taken care of her horse and buggy, Martha stepped into the kitchen and found Irene and Carolyn scurrying around, faces
glistening with perspiration. Even on a chilly winter day, the kitchen was hot. Martha figured by the time their guests arrived they would all be sweating.

Irene turned from cutting up chicken and smiled. “Ready for another big dinner?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Martha replied. “What do you need me to do?”

Irene motioned to another chicken lying on the cutting board. “You can begin by cutting that, and then there are ingredients for a tossed green salad in the refrigerator.”

Martha slipped into her work apron and set right to work. She kept so busy that she barely took notice when the group of Englishers arrived and took their seats at the table. It wasn’t until a deep male voice said something to Irene that Martha glanced that way. Gary Walker, the reporter who’d dated Grace during her rumschpringe days, stood near the door that separated the kitchen from the dining room.

She leaned casually against the counter and listened to his conversation with Irene.

“I’m hoping to write another article about your business here,” Gary said. “The last one I did generated a lot of reader response, which made my boss happy.”

Irene smiled. “Soon after the article was printed, several more people made reservations for a meal.”

“That’s good to hear, Mrs. Schrock,” Gary said in his usual, charming voice. He glanced over at Martha and winked. “Maybe after this article comes out, you’ll have to hire a few more lovely women to help with your dinners.”

Martha averted her gaze and busied herself filling water glasses that had been set by each plate.

For the remainder of the evening, she stayed busy in the kitchen, returning to the dining room only when necessary. The sight of Gary flirting with the dark-haired woman beside him was enough to make Martha’s stomach churn. She couldn’t figure out what Grace had ever seen in that arrogant man.

When the meal was over and the guests began to file out of the house, Martha breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe now she could focus on something other than the irritating man in the other room.

She’d just gone outside to deposit a bag of trash in the garbage can, when Gary stepped onto the porch and leaned against the railing. “Nice night, isn’t it?”

She shivered and knew it wasn’t from the chilly night air. “I thought everyone had gone home.”

“Everyone but me.” He moved to stand beside her. “I decided to stick around awhile so I could talk to you.”

“What about?”

“I have a few questions I’d like to ask about your dog business.”

“My dog business?”

“Yeah. I’d like to know if I can come by your place tomorrow and take a look at your kennels.”

“Are you interested in buying a dog?”

He grunted. “Hardly! I hate dogs. Have ever since one bit me on the nose when I was a kid.”

Martha dropped the sack into the trash can and started walking back to the house.

Gary followed. “I’m interested in writing a story about your kennel business for the newspaper.”

“Why would you want to write a story about me? I only have a few dogs. I don’t think there’s much about my struggling business that would be worthy of a write-up in the newspaper.”

He eyed her curiously. “It’s struggling, huh?”

“I’ve been trying to get it going for some time, but either my dogs aren’t able to get pregnant, or something happens to one of the pups.” Martha felt like biting her tongue. She had no idea why she’d answered any of Gary’s questions, and she certainly wasn’t going to allow him to come to her house and nose around. Grace would be upset if Gary came anywhere near their place. Besides, Martha didn’t trust the man as far as she could toss one of Dad’s buggy horses.

Her thoughts went to the article that had been in the paper several weeks ago, accusing some Amish of running puppy mills and
abusing their dogs. If Martha gave Gary an interview, he might write something that would make her look bad.

“I’m not interested in having an article written about me or my dogs,” she mumbled.

“Why not? If your business is struggling, a newspaper article might be just the thing that would bring in more customers.”

She shook her head.

Gary followed her onto the porch. “What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

He shrugged. “You must have something to hide if you won’t let me do a story about your dogs.”

A brigade of shivers ran up Martha’s spine. What was Gary trying to prove? Was he hoping to find something at her kennels to make her look bad? “I have nothing to hide,” she said.

“That’s good to hear. For a minute there, I thought you might be running one of those puppy mills and didn’t want me to know about it.”

Martha’s anger outweighed her fear. “I am not running a puppy mill! I take good care of my dogs, and I have a kennel license!”

Gary tipped back his head and roared.

Her defenses rose. “What’s so funny?”

His laughter slowed to a few chuckles and then stopped. “You remind me of Grace in many ways, only you’re prettier.”

“I have nothing more to say, so if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” Martha tromped across the porch, jerked open the door, and stepped into the house. She wished Gary Walker would leave Holmes County for good!

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