A Sister's Hope Page 2

  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 h
e’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 hous
e 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.”