A Sister's Hope (20 page)

As Luke sat at the table eating his salad and watching Martha eat hers, a deep sense of longing filled his soul. If things weren’t so mixed up right now, and if he knew he could gain Roman’s approval, he would probably ask to court Martha.

“You look kind of
verwart
,” Martha said, breaking into Luke’s thoughts. “Is something wrong?”

Luke took a drink of water before he spoke. “I. . .uh. . . This whole thing with the attacks is enough to make anyone feel perplexed.”

She nodded. “If only we could find out who’s been attacking us and make him stop, things would be back to normal.”

“Have you come up with any new ideas on how we’re going to do that?”

“Not really. I thought I’d make a trip to see the sheriff.”

“What for?”

“To tell him that I plan to do some investigating on my own and say that I’d like his help.”

Luke shook his head vigorously. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Martha.”

“Why not?”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I’ve been mulling things over the last few days, and I’ve put the sheriff on my list of suspects.”

“What?” Martha’s mouth dropped open. “Why would you think Sheriff Osborn had anything to do with the attacks?”

“Think about it. The attacks have been going on since before Grace married Cleon. Wouldn’t you think by now the sheriff would at least have some leads?”

“Maybe he’d have some leads if my daed had told him about the attacks sooner.”

“But he knows now, and nothing’s been done.”

“He’s been keeping an eye on our place ever since Dad’s shop was blown up.”

“How long do you think he’ll keep doing that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t it seem strange that a man who’s sworn to uphold the law and do all he can to keep people safe hasn’t done much more than drop by your place and make your daed a few promises to keep an eye on things?”

“That could be Dad’s fault. By the time Sheriff Osborn has found out about most of the attacks, the perpetrator’s trail’s grown cold.”

Luke nearly choked on the water he’d just put in his mouth. “Perpetrator? What have you been reading lately—Nancy Drew mystery novels?”

Martha’s face flamed, and she blinked a couple of times. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“I’ll admit I have read a few mystery stories. I know for a fact that if too much time passes after a crime is committed, it’s that much harder to determine who did the crime.” Martha folded her arms. “I’ve also thought about questioning some of the suspects on my list during my free time.”

Luke shook his head. “That’s not a good idea, either.”

“Why not?”

“If the person you’re questioning turns out to be the one responsible for the attacks, you could be in danger.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Well, you should be. Look what happened to Ruth and Martin. If the person who rammed their buggy is the same one who did all the other things to your family, then he—or she—won’t think twice about harming you.”

Martha’s face paled. “You really think I could be in danger?”

“It’s possible.” Luke reached across the table and touched her arm. “Promise you won’t do anything foolish?”

“I promise.”

W
hen Martha returned home from her meeting with Luke, she was filled with a sense of hope. Not only did he want to help her find the person responsible for the attacks, but also he was concerned for her safety. She saw it as a sign that he might care for her—hopefully as more than a friend. She wondered if Luke might decide he wanted to court her once they found out who was behind the attacks.

“That’s probably wishful thinking,” Martha murmured as she stepped into the barn to put her horse away.

“What’s wishful thinking?”

Martha whirled around. “Dad, I didn’t know you were in here.”

He stepped out of the shadows near the back of the barn. “Came in to get a roll of wire. One of our fences in the back pasture has been cut. If I don’t get it fixed right away, the horses will all be out.”

“Not another attack,” she said with a moan. “I was hoping now that the sheriff has been watching our place more, the attacks would end.”

Dad reached out to stroke her horse’s ear. “Someone’s obviously trying to get even with me for something.”

“Or maybe they want our land.”

He huffed. “I won’t be run off this place, and I won’t spend my days living in fear.”

“Would you mind if I go with you to fix the fence?” Martha asked. Maybe she would discover some clue as to who had cut the wire.

He shrugged. “If you’ve got nothing better to do, you’re welcome to come along.”

“I’m free for the rest of the day.” Martha glanced toward the barn door. “Should I run up to the house first and tell Mom where we’ll be so she won’t worry in case she comes looking for you?”

He shook his head. “Your mamm’s not home. She went over to Abe and Ruth’s place to see how things are going with them. I doubt she’ll be back until it’s time to start supper.”

“Okay. I’ll put my horse away, and then I’ll be ready to head out.”

When Luke stepped onto the back porch of his home, he heard voices coming from the kitchen. One he recognized as his mother’s; the other he was sure belonged to Judith Hostettler.

As Luke opened the door, he heard Judith say, “This afternoon, Roman discovered someone had cut the fence in our back pasture.” She groaned. “I’m getting so tired of these attacks.”

“I hope Roman doesn’t think Luke had anything to do with it. I know he’s accused him of doing some of the other things.”

Luke’s spine went rigid as he halted. He could see the back of his mother’s head through the doorway to the kitchen on the other side of the utility room.

“I think my husband was wrong when he accused your son,” Judith replied. “I know Luke’s going through rumschpringe and all, but I can’t imagine he would do any of the horrible things that have been done to us.”

Mom nodded. “Luke tends to be impulsive and stubborn at times, but he’s a good boy. We’ve raised him to respect other people’s property.”

“Our Martha’s the same way—stubborn and impulsive but always polite and respectful.”

Luke edged closer to the back door. Should he make himself known, keep on listening, or turn around and head back outside?

“What’s Roman going to do about the fence?” Mom asked Judith.

“He was planning to fix it right away.”

“I meant, what’s he planning to do about the vandalism that keeps happening at your place?”

“There’s not much he can do.”

“He could notify the sheriff.”

Judith sighed. “The sheriff’s supposedly been watching our place, but obviously it hasn’t kept the attacker from thinking up more things to do.”

“How do you feel about all this?”

Judith gave another long sigh. “Each attack makes me feel more nervous, but I’m asking God to calm my fears, and I’m praying that eventually the one who’s been doing these things will either be caught or will decide to quit tormenting us on their own.”

Luke pressed his weight against the wall.
I wonder what Mom and Judith would say if they knew Martha and I were trying to find out who’s responsible?

Judith’s chair squeaked as she pushed away from the table. “Well, I’d best be on my way. I told Roman I was going over to see Ruth, and if I don’t get there soon, it’ll be time to turn around and head home again so I can start supper.”

Luke knew if he didn’t do something soon, his presence would be known. He quietly opened the back door and slipped outside. Maybe he would head over to the Hostettlers’ place and check on the fence that had been cut. By the time he got there, Roman should be finished with his repairs. This would be a good chance to take a few pictures and look for some evidence.

Ruth settled into the rocking chair with Molly in her lap, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. She’d had another disagreement with Gideon this morning, and it had left her feeling drained and more discouraged than ever. If only there was something she could say or do to make the boy happy and compliant. If she could just think of a way to get through to him—make him understand that she cared about him and needed his acceptance. Ruth felt that Gideon needed her, too; he just didn’t realize it.

She thought about Abe—the steady, gentle man she’d married. She felt blessed to be his wife and hoped she could make him happy.

As Ruth rocked the bundle of sweetness in her lap, she sang an old song her mother used to sing when she and her sisters were young.
“Well, I don’t care if the birds don’t sing; I don’t care if the bells don’t chime; just as long as you love me. I don’t care if the world don’t turn; I don’t care if the fire don’t burn; just as long as you love me.”

Ruth was close to drifting off when the back door creaked open. She turned her head. Thinking it might be Abe, she was surprised to see Mom enter the room.

Ruth nodded at the sleeping child in her lap. “Let me put her on the sofa, and then we can go to the kitchen for a cup of tea.”

Mom smiled. “She’s awfully
schee
, isn’t she?”

“Jah, she’s a very pretty child.” Ruth stood and placed Molly on the sofa; then she quietly followed her mother into the next room.

It wasn’t until they were seated at the table and had cups of tea in their hands that she noticed her mother’s furrowed brows and grim expression.

“Is something wrong, Mom? You look upset.”

Mom sighed deeply. “I am upset. Someone cut your daed’s fence near the back pasture.”

“Did any of his cows or horses get out?”

Mom shook her head. “Luckily, your daed found the cut before that happened.”

Ruth reached over and took her mother’s hand. “Oh, Mom, are these attacks ever going to end?”

Mom stared into her cup and slowly shook her head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.” She lifted the cup with a shaky hand and took a sip of tea. “Your daed seemed pretty calm about the whole thing. He told me earlier that he’s still trusting God to put an end to all this. In the meantime, he plans to keep a closer eye on things.”

Ruth released a heavy sigh as she leaned heavily against her chair. “Why does everything have to be so unsettled? Why can’t things be safe and peaceful?”

“I’m afraid we’ll never know complete peace until we’re face-to-face with our heavenly Father.”

“I realize that. I just wish—”

“You look troubled, too, Ruth,” Mom said. “Are things okay between you and Abe?”

“Everything’s fine. It’s my relationship with Gideon I’m worried about.”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“Gideon’s so defensive whenever I say anything to him. He won’t join any family games or contribute much to our conversations. He just wants to be off by himself. Abe has an awful time getting the boy to even do his chores.”

“Do you think Gideon’s still mourning his mudder’s death?”

“Jah, I do. I also think he resents me being his daed’s new fraa.”

“Give him more time, Ruth. I’m sure the boy will come around eventually.”

“I hope so, because it’s getting harder to deal with, especially when Abe’s other four kinner are sweet and compliant.”

Mom took another sip of tea. “God has blessed you by bringing Abe and his kinner into your life. I think you should keep your focus on that right now.”