A Sister's Hope

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A Sister's Hope Page 12

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  Mom shot out of her chair. “Now where’d you come up with that? Your daed never accused you of—”

  “He didn’t have to,” Luke interrupted. “I already know Roman thinks I’m the one responsible for the things that have been done at their place.” He rocked back and forth on his heels. “I don’t know why, but it seems as if Toby’s trying to make me look bad, even to my own parents.”

  “You don’t look bad,” Mom said with a shake of her head. “It’s just that we want you to—”

  “Get rid of that truck!” Dad said. “That way if anybody sees someone driving a black truck and wearing a baseball cap, they won’t accuse you.”

  Luke shook his head. “I’m not selling my truck because Toby’s likes to blabbermaul.”

  “He may like to blabber, but if he can convince others that you’re responsible—”

  “I don’t want to sell my truck. At least not now.”

  “If you don’t, then you’ll likely be blamed for everything that happens in this area.” A vein on the side of Pop’s neck bulged, and Luke knew he was walking on thin ice.

  “I’ll have a talk with Toby if you like,” Luke said. “Maybe I can talk some sense into him—make him realize it wasn’t me who did all those things.”

  Pop shook his head. “Forget talking to Toby. I want you to sell that truck!”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then you’ll have to move out.”

  Luke turned sharply toward the door. “Fine then, I’ll move out!”

  “Please, don’t do that!” Mom grabbed the sleeve of Luke’s jacket. “Where would you go?”

  “Guess I’ll head for the woods and sleep in my truck.”

  “It’s too cold to be sleeping in your truck.” Mom turned pleading eyes on Pop. “Please say something to convince Luke he shouldn’t move out.”

  Pop shrugged his shoulders. “Betty, there’s not much I can say if the boy wants to live in his precious truck.”

  Luke moved toward the door, but Mom positioned herself in front of it. “I won’t sleep a wink tonight if I have to lie in bed thinking about you freezing to death. Please, don’t go, Luke. Stay here and we’ll work things out.”

  “There’s not much to work out unless he agrees to sell his truck,” Pop said, shooting a piercing glance at Luke.

  Luke drew in a deep breath and released it with a huff. He didn’t like seeing his mother so upset. Truth was, he really didn’t want to sleep in his truck—especially in the dead of winter. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his truck keys. “How about I leave these with you for two weeks? During that time, if any attacks occur where a black truck is seen, then you’ll know I wasn’t driving the truck or doing the dirty deed.”

  Pop held out his hand and accepted the offered keys. “All right then. It’s agreed.”

  When Martha went out to the barn to feed her dogs the following morning, she discovered Fritz, her male sheltie, lying in the corncrib on a pile of dried corn. Her heart gave a lurch. Had someone come into the barn and let the dog out? No, that was impossible; the barn door had been locked. She was just being paranoid.

  “How did you get out of your kennel, boy?” Martha murmured, reaching out to pat Fritz’s head. “And what are you doing here in the corncrib?”

  The dog lifted his head and responded with a lethargic grunt. He was obviously quite comfortable.

  Martha was sure she had latched all the cage doors securely last night. She glanced around, wondering if any of the other dogs had gotten out. To her relief, there was no sign of them.

  “Come on, Fritz. You can’t stay here all day.” Grasping the dog’s collar, Martha led him back to his kennel. The door to his cage was hanging open, although the latch didn’t appear to be broken. Could Fritz have figured out some way to open the gate? If that were the case, she would have to rig something up so he couldn’t get out. Martha put Fritz back in his cage and inspected the rest of the cages. Everything was just as it should be.

  Smiling, she leaned against the wire fence that enclosed the dog run and watched Heidi’s growing puppies scamper around, yipping and nipping at one another in play. She glanced at her beagle Polly and was pleased to see that her pups were nursing. The little scamps were sure growing. Maybe she would run an ad in the Bargain Hunter and sell some of the puppies for Valentine’s Day.

  I hope that article by Gary Walker won’t hurt my sales.

  Pushing her disconcerting thoughts aside, Martha hurried to get the dogs fed and watered. She didn’t have to work for Irene today, so after breakfast, she planned to head to Berlin to do some shopping for Mom.

  Should I lock the door? Martha wondered as she left the barn a few minutes later. No, everything will be fine. I’m just feeling anxious for nothing. Martha closed the barn door and headed for the house to help Mom with breakfast.

  “I can’t get over that article Gary Walker wrote in yesterday’s newspaper,” Grace said.

  Cleon nodded as he scooped his lunch pail off the counter. “The man ought to get his facts straight before he writes a story like that.”

  “I think he wrote those things about Martha on purpose, just to make our family look bad.”

  Cleon grunted. “You don’t still think he’s trying to get even with you for breaking up with him when you were a teenager, do you?”

  “I don’t know. He’s denied it several times, but I don’t trust him.” Grace sighed. “After the way he treated me when we were dating and the upsetting things he’s said to me since he came to Holmes County, I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

  Cleon glanced at the kitchen table where eight-year-old Anna sat eating her oatmeal. Daniel was seated in his high chair next to her. “We shouldn’t be talking about things like this in front of the kinner,” he said, lowering his voice. “I don’t want them to live in fear that something bad’s going to happen.”

  “Daniel’s not old enough to know what’s going on,” Grace said. “Anna’s another story. She’s already been through a lot, so I’ll try to be more careful what I say in front of her.”

  Cleon gave Grace a hug. “There haven’t been any more attacks for a while, so try not to worry.”

  As Grace stood in the doorway, watching Cleon walk down the driveway toward her father’s barn, she whispered a prayer. “Dear Lord, please put an end to these attacks.”

  As Martha left the hardware store, where she’d purchased some new feeding dishes for her dogs, she spotted Luke coming out of the market with a disposable camera in his hands.

  Luke waved.

  She waved back, wondering if he would make his way across the parking lot to say hello. To her delight, he did.

  “What are you doing in town in the middle of the day?” she asked as he stepped up to her. “I figured you’d be working.”

  He nodded. “I am. John sent me to town to pick up a few things he needed, so I decided to make a stop of my own.”

  “For that?” she asked motioning to the camera in his hand.

  “Jah.”

  “Why do you need a camera?”

  “To take pictures, of course.”

  “Of what?”

  Luke’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Since I’m trying to help you figure out who’s behind the attacks, I figured I might get some pictures.”

  She tipped her head in question.

  “If another attack occurs, I’ll come out with my camera and take pictures of the damage and any evidence that might be there.”

  Martha lifted her gaze to the sky. “Like my daed’s going to let you do that.”

  “He doesn’t have to know. I’ll do it when he’s not around.”

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

  “Why not?”

  “Even if you did get some pictures without my daed seeing you, what good would the pictures do?”

  “If the pictures show anything helpful, I guess I could take ’em to the sheriff.” Luk
e shrugged. “ ’Course, I’m not sure how much good that would do, since he hasn’t done much to stop the attacks. Makes me wonder. . .”

  “Did you see that article in yesterday’s paper written by Gary Walker?” Martha asked.

  “Nope. I haven’t even read yesterday’s paper. What was it about?”

  “It had to do with the rumors that some Amish in the area are running puppy mills.” Martha shook her head. “Gary insinuated that I might be running a puppy mill.”

  Luke’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”

  She shook her head. “He attended dinner at Irene’s a few weeks ago, and before he left, he cornered me, asking if he could come to our place and interview me about my dogs.”

  “What’d you tell him?”

  “I said I wasn’t interested in being interviewed for the newspaper.” Martha rubbed a sore spot on the side of her head, knowing she was on the verge of a full-blown headache. “I figure he probably wrote that article to get back at me for refusing to let him do a story about my kennel business.”

  Luke grunted. “Gary Walker is not a nice man. In fact, he’s near the top of my list of suspects.”

  Martha nodded. “Mine, too.”

  “You know what I think we should do?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I think we should plan to meet somewhere again and go over our lists. I have a few ideas I’d like to talk to you about.”

  “When did you want to meet, and where?”

  “What are you doing this Saturday?”

  “I’m not working that day, and I have no special plans.”

  “How about we meet at Kiem Lumber? It’s always crowded there on Saturdays, and we’ll probably go unnoticed.”

  “You want to sit in the parking lot in our buggies and talk about the attacks?”

  Luke shook his head. “I figured we could meet there and then drive somewhere out of the area in my pickup where we’re not likely to be seen by anyone we know.”

  Martha’s heart began to race. She’d only seen Luke’s truck when it was parked in the woods, and she certainly never expected to take a ride in it. What if someone she knew saw her getting into his truck? Would they tell Dad? Would they think she and Luke were courting?

  Before she could formulate a response, Luke snapped his fingers and said, “Rats! I almost forgot.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t go anywhere in my truck because my daed has the keys.”

  “You gave him the keys to your truck?”

  He nodded.

  “I didn’t think your folks knew you had a truck.”

  “Thanks to that blabbermouth Toby, my folks found out.” Luke grimaced. “Toby told Pop he saw a truck like mine cruising around the schoolhouse in Farmerstown the night it was egged. Pop thinks once the word gets out that I’ve got a truck and someone spotted a truck like mine near the schoolhouse, I’ll be blamed for the vandalism. He was so upset about all this that he demanded I get rid of the truck.”

  “What’d you say?”

  “I refused. Then he said I’d have to move out.” Luke tugged his earlobe. “When I said I would leave, Mom got real upset. The next thing I knew, I’d opened my mouth and suggested that I leave my truck keys with my daed for the next couple of weeks. Then I said if a truck was seen anywhere near a place that had been vandalized, Pop would know I hadn’t done the dirty deed.”

  Martha stood, too dumfounded to speak. If Toby had been so brazen as to tell Luke’s folks about his truck and that he thought Luke might be involved in the schoolhouse vandalism, what else was Toby saying about Luke, and to whom was he saying it?

  Luke touched Martha’s arm, and the strange tingle she felt made her wish even more that they were a courting couple.

  “The uncertain expression on your face makes me wonder if you believe I’m responsible for those acts of vandalism.”

  “No, I—”

  “I didn’t do it, Martha. You’ve got to believe me.”

  “I do believe you.”

  “Then you’ll still meet me on Saturday?”

  She nodded. “If the roads aren’t too bad, maybe we could take separate buggies and meet somewhere other than Kiem Lumber. That way, if someone should see us, it won’t look like we’re together.”

  Luke groaned. “I hate sneaking around all the time. I ought to have the right to see you without having to hide it.”

  “Well, if you’d just—”

  Luke snapped his fingers. “Why don’t we meet in Mt. Hope at Mrs. Yoder’s restaurant? It’s not likely we’ll see anyone we know up there.”

  “That’s true, but even if we do see someone we know, they’ll probably think we came there separately and are sharing a table.”

  “I’ll see you at Mrs. Yoder’s on Saturday then. In the meantime, I’d better get back to work before John comes looking for me.”

  Martha smiled. “It was good seeing you, Luke.”

  “Same here.”

  As Luke sprinted toward his buggy, Martha smiled. She could hardly wait until Saturday.

  As Martha took a seat at a table near the window in Mrs. Yoder’s restaurant, her heart started to pound. She could hardly wait to see Luke. The more time she spent with him, the more she realized that she’d foolishly allowed herself to fall in love with him.

  She stared out the window, watching a slow-moving truck follow a horse and buggy up the road, but her thoughts remained on Luke. Was he telling the truth about giving his truck keys to his father? Was she absolutely sure Luke could be trusted? Did he really want to help her learn the identity of the person who’d done the attacks?

  If Dad knew I’d fallen in love with Luke and that I’ve been seeing him on the sly, he’d be furious. Martha gripped the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white. If Luke knew how much I cared, what would he think?

  “A nickel for your thoughts.”

  Martha jerked at the sound of Luke’s voice. “Oh, I didn’t know you were here.”

  “I just arrived and saw you sitting here by yourself so figured I might join you.”

  “Jah, please do.” Martha smiled and glanced around. If anyone they knew saw them together, Luke was doing a good job of making it look like they’d accidentally met and had decided to share a table. She hated to be sneaking like this, but she didn’t know any other way they could meet and talk about the attacks.

  “How are things with you?” Luke asked as he took a seat across from her.

  “Okay. And you?”

  He shrugged. “Things are kind of tense at home, but at work, things are fine and dandy.”

  “You enjoy working with wood, don’t you?”

  He nodded, and a sparkle of light danced in his dark eyes. “I’d like to have my own shop someday, but I guess that’s not likely to happen.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  He leaned both elbows on the table. “Think about it. Your daed owns one woodworking shop in our area, and John owns the other. I don’t think there’s a need for three, do you?”

  “Probably not.” Martha felt sorry for Luke. It seemed like nothing was going right for him these days. Of course things weren’t going all that well for her, either. She’d spent the last couple of years putting most of her time and money into raising dogs, and she wasn’t much further along now than when she’d first started.

  “Maybe John would consider making you his partner,” she suggested.

  Luke shook his head. “I rather doubt that. He seems to like being the boss. Besides, I don’t have enough money saved up to buy half his business.”

  “I can relate to that. I’d like to buy several more breeds of dogs to raise, but that takes money, and until I sell enough dogs—”

  “Have you two decided on what you’d like to order?” their young Mennonite waitress asked, stepping up to the table.

  “I’ll have the salad bar,” Martha replied.

  Luke nodded. “I’ll have that, too.”

  Martha tipped her h
ead. “Is that really all you’re having?”

  “Jah.” He patted his stomach. “I had a very big breakfast this morning.”

  “Would you like anything to drink other than water?”

  Luke shook his head, and Martha did the same.

  “Help yourself to the salad bar then.”

  Martha pushed away from the table and smiled at Luke as he walked beside her. This almost felt like a real date.

  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.”

 

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