“Miss Humphrey?”
I turned to find the girl from the bakery. “I’m so glad you came.”
She nodded, her expression shy. She was still wearing her apron from the bakery. A smudge of chocolate marked her pocket. She picked at it with her thumbnail.
“Do you want to sit down?” I pointed to a bench.
She glanced inside the college’s grounds. “No, I can’t stay long. My brother will be showing up to the bakery soon to take me home.”
“I’m Chloe.” I held out my hand. She squeezed my fingers but didn’t shake my hand. “What’s your name?”
“Sadie Hooley.”
“What did you want to tell me, Sadie?”
“I haven’t seen Becky in awhile, not since she left home. My family wouldn’t like it if they thought I was talking to her.” She adjusted her glasses. “But I know Becky and know she could never hurt anyone, especially Bishop Glick. Some of our customers at the bakery say it wasn’t an accident. They think Becky hit the bishop’s buggy on purpose. I know that’s not true.”
“I know it would mean a lot to Becky to hear you say that.”
“Can you tell her for me? I can’t talk to her. I shouldn’t even be talking to you.”
“I will,” I promised.
“You came to the bakery to talk to Esther.”
I nodded.
“Esther and Becky don’t get along. They never have, even when we were in school. It has always been over Isaac.” She picked at the chocolate smear on her apron.
“Does Esther plan to marry Isaac?”
Sadie nodded. “She always planned to marry Isaac, even when he was courting Becky.”
“Isaac courting Becky must have made Esther mad.”
Sadie laughed. “It made her furious. I don’t know how many times I had to hear her rant about Becky in the bakery. Once I told her she should be more upset with Isaac because he chose Becky over her. She didn’t talk to me for a week after, which was a relief really. Esther can talk a person’s ear off, especially if she’s angry.”
“Could Esther be angry enough to want to hurt someone?”
Sadie removed her glasses and cleaned the lenses on her apron. “No.”
“Then why are you telling me this?”
She thought a moment. “Esther can be bristly, even short with people, but I know she could never hurt anyone just as I know that Becky couldn’t. I wanted to talk to you to tell you that. It’s the truth, no matter what you might hear around town.”
“Are there rumors going around about her?”
Sadie shrugged. “People coming into the bakery like to talk. It doesn’t matter if they are Amish or Englisch. They want the news, and the biggest news in town now is the bishop’s passing.”
“Thank you for telling me, Sadie.”
“I should go. My brother must be waiting for me.”
I nodded.
She placed her glasses back on her nose. They didn’t look any cleaner than before. A bit of chocolate marred the edge of one lens. Just before she started down the sidewalk, she turned. “You seem like a nice girl. Becky can use all the friends she can find right now. I’m glad she found you.”
As she walked away, I whispered, “Me too.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
After work, a black buggy sat in front of my rented house. Had Grandfather Zook brought the children? As I got closer to the buggy, it became clear it wasn’t Grandfather Zook’s. This buggy was smaller, and dust covered the back end. Grandfather Zook would never drive his buggy if it was less than pristine.
The main tip-off, though, was the horse: a black and brown mare. No white star on the forehead. Definitely not Sparky. I walked around the empty buggy, and then glanced at my house, seeing no movement. To my right, the crunch of coarse gravel caught my attention—as did Deacon Sutter stomping down my driveway.
I crossed my arms. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you, Miss Humphrey.”
He took a few steps closer to me, but I held my ground.
He towered over me, deep sun lines etching his face. “You have no place to speak to the people in the district.”
My brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Did you stop in the bakery in town today?”
“I did.” I held up my chin. “I bought some cookies. Is that a crime?”
“You weren’t there to buy cookies.”
I didn’t deny it.
“My brother-in-law told me how upset my niece Esther was by your visit.”
“You’re Esther’s uncle?”
“Yes.” He glared at me.
I blew out a breath. “I’m sorry I upset her, but I wanted to know what she may know about the accident.”
“So you admit it.”
“I never denied I want to know how my car was sabotaged.”
His eyes bored into mine. “Did you talk to anyone else?”
Sadie came to mind, but there was no way I would tell the deacon about her. She took a big risk by speaking to me. “I don’t have to answer that.” I started for the front door, feeling for the cell phone in my purse.
The deacon reached out and grabbed my upper arm. His long slender fingers dug into my flesh. “Don’t walk away from me.”
I jerked my arm away and glared at him. “I thought the Amish were nonviolent. Maybe you should listen more closely to the rules that you preach.”
His eyes narrowed, but he took a step back. “Stay away from my district. You’ve already tricked the Troyers into accepting you, but it won’t work for anyone else. I blame their worldliness on Zook’s influence. Simon Troyer would have never behaved this way before his father-in-law moved to the county. Perhaps they need to be reminded of the error of their ways.”
“How would you do that?”
“That’s a matter for the church.”
I bit the inside of my lip and tasted blood.
He stopped and wagged his index finger at me. “Don’t come around my family again.” Then he climbed into his buggy.
As the horse pulled the buggy away, I wondered what he could do to me if I did. Nothing. I wasn’t Amish. He had no control over me.
The Troyers were another story.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, I parked outside Little Owl Greenhouse and found Becky sweeping the parking lot. Even with only one good arm, Becky’s broom kicked up huge clouds of dust. There was mulch everywhere.
I hopped out of the car. “What happened?”
“One of the mulch bags broke open during last night’s storm. I’ve been sweeping for two hours. Cookie asked me to finish it before I leave.”
“You have a long way to go.”
“I know.”
I glanced around the lot. “Is there another broom? I can help.”
She grinned and ran into the shop for a second broom. Heat rose from the pavement, and I was glad I had changed into shorts and a T-shirt. “Where are Cookie and Scotch?”
She handed me the broom. “In the hothouse.”
I began sweeping. “I spoke with Sadie Hooley today.”
“Sadie? How is she? I saw her when I stopped at the Amish Bread Bakery looking for work.” She sighed. “I shouldn’t have tried applying there.”
“Why not?” I sneezed as a cloud of dust and mulch flew into my face.
“The bakery belongs to Esther Yoder’s family. Why’d you talk to Sadie?”
“I wanted to talk to Esther.”
“Esther? Why?”
“Just to see if she knew anything about the accident.”
Becky stopped sweeping. “Why would she know anything about that?”
“Ruth said—”
“I know what Ruth said, but Esther wouldn�
��t do anything to anyone. I already told you that.” Before I could respond, she started one-handed sweeping again. “Esther doesn’t like me. She never has, even when we were kinner, but she would never hurt me.”
“Maybe she asked someone else to do it.”
She looked up. “Why?”
“Isaac.”
She dropped her gaze and shook her head. “The minute I left home, Esther won Isaac. Why would she bother?”
“I’m trying to be thorough. I’m not going to ignore a lead because it’s uncomfortable. Are you more upset about this because of Esther or because of Isaac?”
“I don’t want to talk about Isaac.” She dropped her broom on the blacktop.
“Did you leave for art or did you leave to avoid marriage?” The question popped out of my mouth, and I immediately regretted it.
Her blue eyes filled with tears, and she fled into the greenhouse.
Why did I ask her that? I set both brooms against the front of the greenhouse, then found Becky with Cookie and Scotch in the hothouse.
“Hush! Hush!” Cookie allowed Becky to cry into her shoulder.
Scotch pulled a yellow bandana from his bib overalls and handed it to Becky.
Cookie’s heavily made-up eyes turned on me. “Now, why’d you have to go and make her cry.”
“I—Becky, I’m sorry.”
Becky shook her head against Cookie’s shoulder.
Scotch waved at me. “Come on, Chloe, let’s give the girls a minute.”
Helpless, I followed him back into the store. Scotch moved behind the counter. “Don’t worry about Becky. Cookie will calm her down. She’s good with our girls.”
“You have daughters?”
He nodded. “Two. Both are grown. One lives in Seattle and the other in Richmond. Cookie likes having Becky here so much because our girls are so far away. She misses mothering. Tell the truth, we both love having Becky here and would do anything for her.”
“You’ve already done so much by giving her this job, and driving her back and forth to work goes way above that.”
He waved away my praise. “We need to know she’s safe.” Scotch sat on a stool behind the cash register, clutching his cane. There were no cars in the parking lot and no customers in the shop or greenhouse.
What was Cookie saying to Becky in the hothouse? I hoped her motherly advice was better than her makeover.
Scotch looked around the rustic building. “This greenhouse was Cookie’s dream. It’s something she’s wanted since I first met her more than thirty years ago. I knew I had to make it happen for her.”
“How long have you been open?”
“Four years.” He popped open the cash register and started counting the money in the drawer. There didn’t seem to be much there, but most people shopped with credit cards now anyway.
“It must be hard to run a small business right now.”
He nodded, keeping his eyes focused on the slim pile of bills. “It’s hard to run any kind of business right now.”
I thought about the unfortunate event at Harshberger earlier in the day.
“But,” Scotch said, “in tough times, we have to make tough choices to keep things afloat.”
“That’s true.” Again, Joel came to mind, ornery as he was. Silently, I prayed for him and his family, feeling guilty that it hadn’t occurred to me to do so before.
“Sometimes, too”—Scotch said more talking to himself than to me—“you have to work with people you don’t care for to save your business and protect those you love.”
My brow wrinkled. “Like who?”
He laughed. “Look at me, an old man muttering about his troubles! It won’t be long before Cookie’ll be wheeling me into the nursing home and my diet will consist of gelatin and creamed carrots.”
I thought there was more to it than that, but before I could ask him, Becky and Cookie entered the shop. Becky’s eyes were dry, and she was smiling. I don’t know how, at age twenty-four, I had a nineteen-year-old under my care. I was not equipped to be a parent and certainly not to someone so close to my own age.
“We’re all better,” Cookie proclaimed. “I gave her the old Cookie pep talk. Worked every time with my girls.” She winked.
“I’ll finish cleaning up the mulch, Chloe, and we can go home.”
I followed her. “I’ll help.”
Becky shrugged, so we worked in silence.
Once in the car, I couldn’t stand Becky’s silent treatment anymore. “Becky, I said I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about Isaac, I won’t mention him again.”
She let out a breath as if she’d been holding it a long while. “I’m sorry for being angry.” She stared out her window. “I wanted to love Isaac as much as he loved me, but I loved my art more.”
“Then you made the right decision.”
Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. “Really? Everyone told me the opposite.”
“Marrying Isaac would be easier for you and for your family. You were brave to turn him down. Someday you will find someone you love more than art.”
Her whole face lit up. “I pray so. Do you think you will find someone you love more than your computers?”
I laughed, but then grew serious. “Maybe . . .”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Saturday morning I woke up to find Gigabyte chewing on my hair. I swatted him away, and he yowled in protest. “Gig,” I complained into my pillow. “This is the only day of the week I get to sleep in. Go away.”
Another yowl.
I opened one eye and focused it on the wayward animal. “I’m sure Becky’s up. Ask her to give you breakfast.”
My bedroom door flew open, and Becky bounced onto my bed. “Chloe, get up. It’s after ten o’clock.”
“Wake me up for lunch,” I mumbled.
She bounced some more. A headache formed at the base of my skull. Most of the time I appreciated her energy. Ten a.m. on a Saturday was not one of those times.
“You have to get up.”
“Why?”
She let out a dramatic sigh. “Didn’t you hear the phone ring?”
“No,” I told the pillow.
“Timothy’s coming.”
I bolted upright in the bed. “What? Why?”
“He says he has a surprise for us, and he’s bringing Aaron too.”
I blinked the sleep from my eyes. “Aaron? Deacon Sutter’s son? That Aaron?”
She frowned. “Ya! Now, get up!” She hopped off the bed and skipped out of the room. She seems awfully excited to see her brother.
I fell back onto my pillow.
By eleven when Aaron and Timothy rolled in, I was presentable in a pink T-shirt and khaki capri pants. Becky wore her jeans again. I told her at some point that weekend we would have to take them to the Laundromat since she was determined to wear them every day. That or we’d have to go back to the department store and buy a month’s worth.
Timothy climbed out of the car, but Aaron waved from the passenger seat. “Climb in on my side,” Timothy said.
Since I was the shortest, I climbed into the back with Mabel. The woolly dog flopped onto my lap. We had bonded during our tornado ordeal. “Where are we going? Does this have to do with the case?”
Timothy watched me in the rearview mirror. “I think we need a break from the case today. We are taking you to one of the best parts of Knox County: the Kokosing Gap Trail.”
Becky beamed. “I love it there.”
Timothy backed out of the driveway. “There’s an entrance not too far from here.”
My toes curled in my sandals. “Won’t the ground be muddy?” In my mind, trail meant puddles and roots that trip.
Aaron laughed. “The trail is paved and follows the river through Knox
County for more than thirty miles. Kokosing meant ‘little owl’ to Native Americans. Sometimes you can see an owl on the trail at night.”
“Oh.” Relief poured through me. One muddy adventure this week was more than enough.
Timothy turned into a nearly full gravel parking lot. Apparently, the trail was a popular place in the county. A family filed out of the minivan next to us.
Becky, Mabel, and I climbed out of the truck as Timothy removed Aaron’s wheelchair from the bed and unfolded it. He then lifted his friend out of the truck and placed him on the chair. “Now, this is what I call service,” Aaron proclaimed. “Onward!” He pointed up the ridge that led to the paved path. Timothy took it at a run, pushing the wheelchair up the side, with Mabel barking at his heels. On the path, Timothy clicked a leash on Mabel’s collar, and she barked in protest. He pointed at the leash law sign as if she could read it.
I reached for the leash. “I’ll walk her so you can push Aaron.”
“No,” Becky said. “I’ll push Aaron.”
Timothy pointed at her cast. “Can you with one arm?”
“Watch me,” Becky said.
Timothy shrugged and let Becky take over the reins of Aaron’s wheelchair. He fell back in step with Mabel and me.
“Becky looks happy,” I said.
Timothy grinned. “Aaron, too.”
We fell further back, and I glanced at Timothy. “Becky must think there is some sort of race.”
He laughed.
Broad-leafed trees hung over the bark-topped path, birds twittering in their branches. I could hear the sound of the Kokosing rushing by behind the tree line. “It’s beautiful here.”
Timothy shortened his stride to meet mine. “It’s one of my favorite places. I come here all the time.”
I picked a leaf from Mabel’s fur. “The deacon was okay with you picking up Aaron in your truck?”
“The deacon doesn’t exactly know. If he had his way, Aaron would be hidden away at home all the time.” Timothy’s tone turned raw, almost bitter.
“If his father is so awful, why does Aaron stay?”
Appleseed Creek Trilogy, Books 1-3 Page 25