Finally, I made it to the top of the Walkers’ long driveway. A buggy rolled in my direction. I stepped to the side as the driver pulled the horse to a stop next to me. “Hello, Angie.”
I recognized Rachel’s husband, Aaron.
I waved. “Can you give me a ride back to Millersburg?”
“Ya.”
I climbed into the buggy. “Thanks.”
“You have a stick in your hair.” Aaron was a man of few words, and I was relieved that he didn’t ask what I was doing wandering around the Walker farm.
I removed the stick and tossed it out of the buggy. At least it wasn’t a spider.
Chapter Twenty-eight
I washed my hair three times in an attempt to remove the spider cooties. I wondered how Danny dealt with the ants and winced, though after he left me stranded in the apple orchard, my sympathy for him was at an all-time low.
Oliver followed me around the house as I towel dried my hair. I scratched him behind the ear. “I’m sorry, boy. That took much longer than I thought it would.” He pawed at his doggy door, and I let him into the backyard.
The small lap quilt Anna had given me to practice my hand stitch on hung over the arm of my couch. I stared at it. I needed to get back to it. The shop and the quilting circle—these were the reasons I moved back. And if I happened upon another clue to the mystery of the woodworker’s death while returning to my true purpose, all the better.
Oliver barked from the other side of the door. A sparrow perched on the fence and he wanted in. Now. I opened the door and the Frenchie nearly knocked me over. I needed to go out again. I had left the dog alone so much over the last two days, it seemed cruel to do it again so soon, even considering where we were headed. I slapped my thigh. “Oliver, let’s go.”
His stubby tail wagged with excitement. He wouldn’t be that happy when he learned we were going back to the home of the geese.
• • •
Oliver peeked over the edge of the passenger’s side window as my tires crunched over Anna’s gravel driveway. The sound of the geese squawking was deafening. My pooch turned a forlorn face to me that clearly read “Traitor.”
“If I left you back at the house, you wouldn’t have been happy about that either.” I patted his head.
His big brown eyes told me that this was much worse than an afternoon home alone.
“Okay, I will let you stay home next time.”
Through my windshield, I spied Miriam among the geese, gently tapping their plump sides with a thin stick and shooing them to the other side of the pen. There were three children with her. I realized that these must be Jonah’s children. There were two boys and a girl. The girl was the oldest.
I climbed out of the car, and let Oliver out too. He jumped to the ground and promptly snuck under the vehicle. I leaned over. My wild curls fell into my eyes as I did. “Ollie, I won’t let the geese hurt you. I promise.”
The two youngest children whooped and ran toward the car. They ignored the reprimands of their mother.
The two squatted beside me, and I noticed that they were twins. The duo looked so much like their father had when we were children, it took my breath away.
“Is that your dog?” one of the boys asked.
“Yes, his name is Oliver.”
“What’s he doing under the car?” his brother asked.
“Hiding. Who are you?”
The first boy pointed a thumb at his chest. “I’m Ethan, and that’s Ezra.”
“Nee.” His brother shoved him out of the way. “I’m Ethan, and he’s Ezra.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Who is telling the truth?”
“I am,” both boys said in unison.
I laughed. “Do you two play this prank on your teacher?”
They giggled.
I grinned. “Maybe I will call you both E. It’s so much easier to remember.”
“You can’t do that. You have to call us by our names.”
I folded my arms and gave them a mock stern face. “I would if I knew who was who.”
The first boy sighed. “Fine. I’m Ezra and this is Ethan.”
His twin shook his head again. “Nee, I’m Ezra and this is Ethan.”
Miriam and her daughter gave up on the geese and stepped through the gate. Miriam said something in Pennsylvania Dutch to the twins. The boys exchanged a look before running off to the barn.
Jonah’s wife gave me the once-over. “My mother-in-law isn’t here. She went to visit a sick friend.”
I stepped back to avoid getting frostbite from her chilly voice. “Do you know when she will be back?”
She held tightly on to the side of her black apron. “Nee.”
The girl, who was about ten, stood behind her mother and watched me with large brown eyes. I waved to her. “I’m Angie.”
“I’m Emma. I know who you are. Daed said you were his gut friend from when he was my age.”
“That’s right.” I smiled, happy that Jonah would share that with his daughter. However, my smile disappeared when I saw the pinched expression on Miriam’s face. The Amish woman said something in their language to the girl. Emma ran after her brothers toward the barn.
“Please tell Anna I’m sorry I missed her.” When Miriam didn’t respond, I went on, “Is Jonah here?”
“Why?” she snapped.
“I’d like to talk to him.” I swallowed. “You must know Joseph Walker died in my quilt shop. I wanted to talk to Jonah about it.”
She narrowed her eyes to mere slits. “My husband knows nothing about Joseph Walker.”
“I—”
Miriam glared at me. “Stay away from my husband.”
I blinked. “Why?”
“He doesn’t want to talk to you.”
I didn’t believe her. I had seen Jonah the day before, and he had been chatty, happy to see me. “How do you know that?”
“Because he is married, and married Amish men don’t talk to unmarried Englisch women.” She started toward the barn where the children had gone.
“Jo-Jo is my friend,” I burst out.
Her head snapped around. “His name is Jonah. He is an adult. It’s time to put away childish names. You will lead him to trouble.”
“I would never do anything to hurt him or your family.”
“I hope that’s true.” She continued on her way.
I reached for the door handle of my car. Did Miriam honestly think I wanted to harm her family? Had Jonah said something that made her think that?
I slapped my leg. “Come on, Oliver. Time to go.”
The little black-and-white dog didn’t appear.
“Oliver! Let’s go!” I peeked under the SUV, but the dog wasn’t there.
Suddenly, Oliver shot out from behind the barn with a gray goose in hot pursuit. The bird’s wings were spread wide while it honked and squawked at my dog. The twins were two strides behind the goose, and they laughed and squealed.
Oliver as a white and black blur flew by me. I jumped in front of the goose. “Stop!”
The bird shook to a sudden stop. The twins pounced onto the goose. Oliver kept going and dashed for the pigpen. He wriggled his body under the fence and began running in a circle. The four pigs squealed and huddled in the farthest corner of the pen.
Miriam and Emma emerged from the barn. Emma ran over to help the boys with the angry goose, while their mother yelled at them in their language. The boys left the goose with Emma and ran for the pigpen. They clambered over the fence and chased Oliver. The boys’ squeals were as loud as those of the pigs. Oliver and the twins were covered in mud.
I dashed over to the pen. “Oliver!”
The dog stopped dead in his tracks, so abruptly that the boys weren’t ready, and they fell face-first into the mud. They splashed even more mud on themselves as they tr
ied to stand up. Oliver wriggled under a gap in the fence and disappeared behind the barn.
Miriam placed her hands on her hips and yelled at them in Pennsylvania Dutch. The boys righted themselves and climbed over the fence. The pigs grunted approval. They were happy to have their pen back.
A male voice said something in their language. I turned to see Jonah striding toward us. His brow shot up when he saw me and he frowned when he saw Ethan and Ezra (or was it Ezra and Ethan?) covered in mud. “What is going on here?”
The boys talked over each other in a hurry to explain. “The lady’s dog got loose,” one said.
The other added, “And we were trying to catch him. He was too fast, and we fell into the pigpen.”
Jonah folded his arms. “Dog? I don’t see any dog.”
I hurried over to Jonah’s side. “It’s my dog, Oliver. We have to find him. He’s a city dog. He doesn’t know how to behave on a farm.”
The twins ran around the barn whistling and calling Oliver’s name. Emma herded the runaway goose back into its pen with her flock. The geese squawked. Miriam walked up to her husband after firing a glare in my direction. The couple consulted for a minute.
Jonah shook his head. He waved me over. “Let’s look for Oliver.”
I went one way, he went the other. The twins were running their own search, but I think mostly they were enjoying running around covered in mud, and covering everything they came in contact with in mud too.
I searched under bushes and behind feeding troughs. I knew that Oliver would be hiding. The best place to hide was the barn, so I went there.
Emma sat on a milking stool in the barn. She pointed to the hay bale. “He’s in there,” she whispered.
Oliver’s stubby tail was the only piece of him showing. I smiled at her and crept up on my dog. I knocked the hay off the top of his head. He shot a soulful look at me. I laughed. “Come on, Ollie. I think we’ve both had enough country life for one day.”
“You have a funny dog.” The girl pulled at a loose black thread in her apron.
“I know.”
“I like your dog. I wish we could have one like that. Does he sleep in your house?” Emma asked over the screeches of the twins outside.
I pulled up a second milking stool. “He sleeps in my bed with me.”
She sighed. “Mamm says dogs aren’t meant to be in the house.”
“I suppose that’s true about some dogs, but Oliver wouldn’t last one night outside.”
She smiled. “You are the Englischer who owns the quilt shop in town.”
“I am.”
“My grossmammi said you were coming here, and we had to be nice to you because you are Eleanor’s niece. Eleanor was Grossmammi’s favorite friend.”
I smiled.
“My favorite friend is Ginny Walker.”
Walker?
I was about to ask her if Ginny was related to Joseph, when she said, “Her daed died in your shop.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “How is Ginny?”
“Sad.” She twirled a piece of hay between her fingers.
The simple answer broke my heart.
“And scared.”
“Why is she scared?”
She threw the strand of hay back onto the hay bale. “She thinks her uncle will come back now.”
I gave a sharp intake of breath. “Elijah?”
She nodded. “A week ago her uncle came to their home wanting a place to stay, and her daed turned Elijah away. Elijah was very mad.”
“How was he mad?”
She wrapped her bare arms around her waist. “He told Ginny’s daed he would be sorry for turning his back on family.”
My mind flashed back to the image of Elijah Knepp on the Walker farm. He had been hiding in the outbuilding. Did Abigail at least know that he was there? Was she hiding it from her daughters? “Thank you for telling me this, Emma.”
Outside the boys and Jonah continued to call Oliver’s name. I knew we should go out and tell them we found Oliver safe and sound, but I did not want to interrupt our conversation. I knew it was important.
Emma leaned forward. “Maybe you can find Elijah. I’ve told my daed to find him, but he will not. He said it is not our business.”
My brow wrinkled. “Why do you want me to find Elijah? You just said that Ginny didn’t want her uncle to come back.”
“Because I hate to see my friend so afraid. Because he’s the one who killed Ginny’s daed.”
My mouth went dry. “Are you sure? How do you know that?”
“Because that’s what Ginny said. She would not say that of her own uncle if it were not the truth.”
I had to agree. Would a little girl’s suspicion be enough to convince Sheriff Mitchell? I wasn’t so sure about that.
“Emma,” Jonah’s voice called from outside of the barn door.
“I have to go.” She jumped off her stool and shot out of the barn before I could ask her any more questions, although I had dozens sitting at the tip of my tongue.
“Oliver?”
His stubby tail slithered into the pile of hay. After several minutes of searching, I managed to pull Oliver out from the hay and carried him from the barn.
When the Frenchie and I emerged from the barn, the mud-covered twins ran to us. “I’ve never seen a dog be so scared like that before.”
“The goose was bigger than he was,” I said in Oliver’s defense.
The dog buried his wet nose into my elbow.
Ethan/Ezra laughed. “And she was mad too.”
Jonah gripped his suspenders. “You two are filthy. Go wash up. Don’t go in the house. Use the hose on the other side of the barn.”
The boys’ eyes gleamed at this suggestion. The air was humid as the hot afternoon sun seemed to be stuck in high-noon position despite the lateness in the day. They ran around the barn. Within seconds we heard shrieks of delight and the sound of the water hose.
Miriam and Jonah spoke in their language. The Pennsylvania Dutch words I knew as a child when I spent the summers with my aunt had been wiped from my memory. Maybe Rachel or Anna could teach me some. I’m sure they would come in handy at the shop.
I carried Oliver to my car. With one hand, I spread an old towel I kept for wet-dog emergencies on the backseat, and Oliver curled up on top of it. He was more than ready to go home.
Jonah was at my side. “Did you want to talk to my mother? She’s calling on Abigail today.”
I nodded. “I’m having a quilting circle meeting at my house at three and would like her to come. I’m here for another reason too, though.”
He cocked his head and waited.
“I’m looking for Elijah Knepp. I need to talk to him. He’s hiding out at the Walker farm in one of the outbuildings. Will you come with me?”
“How would you know where he is?”
“People talk,” was my vague answer.
“I will not go with you to talk to Elijah.” Jonah’s eyes narrowed. “I already told you that was a bad idea.”
“It’s important.” I thought it was even more important now that I heard what Ginny had told Emma about her uncle. If I couldn’t talk to Elijah, maybe Ginny would talk to me.
“Angie, you don’t want to get involved with Elijah Knepp.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that Elijah burned down your barn?”
A pained expression crossed Jonah’s face. “Because it is in the past. I have forgiven him. When you forgive, you do not speak of the injury again. Would we want Gott to remind us of everything we’ve done wrong?”
“But—”
He cut me off. “I have told my wife she need not worry about you. We are friends; that is all. Because you’re my old friend, I do not want you to be hurt. That means staying away from Elijah Knepp.” His tone had finality to it. I would ne
ed to reach Elijah another way.
“Thank you for being my friend,” I murmured as I climbed in. I shifted the car into reverse and backed away.
One of the twins raced around the barn brandishing a bucket of water to throw on the other. Jonah shouted at them. Miriam ignored the boys and glared me down as I drove off the farm.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Unlike my Amish friends, I didn’t have any wonderful homemade treats to serve my guests. I dumped a bag of potato chips into a ceramic bowl and set crackers on a plate. When this murder thing was over, I would take more time to cook, I promised myself as I artfully arranged pieces of cellophane-wrapped American cheese on the cracker plate.
A knock sounded on the front door. I left my calcium-rich masterpiece and let Rachel into the house. “Angie, your house is so cute.”
“Thanks. Sorry about all the boxes everywhere. I haven’t finished unpacking,” I said. And if Mitchell throws me in jail I won’t need to, I thought.
Rachel followed me into the kitchen and placed a hand to her mouth. “Angie, is that what you’re serving?”
I eyed her. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No.” She giggled. She held up a basket. “I brought some cookies from the bakery.”
“You did?” I grinned. “Bless you!” I tossed the last piece of American cheese onto the plate. “My options are pathetic.”
“I knew that you wouldn’t have time to make anything.” She placed the basket on the counter, and I began putting away the cheese.
Rachel removed a perfect plate of Amish-made cookies from her basket. “Can I do anything else?”
“Could you grab the iced tea from the refrigerator?”
She nodded and placed the iced tea pitcher on the counter.
I returned the cheese to the refrigerator and removed the lemonade. Between the iced tea and lemonade, at least I had decent summer beverages to serve my guests. “There’s something I need to talk to you about before the other women arrive.”
There was a second knock on the front door. So much for that plan.
I turned around to find Rachel holding the bowl of chips, the pitcher of iced tea, and seven glasses. All were perfectly balanced in her arms without a tray. “How did you do that?”
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