A Sister's Hope

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  “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.”

  When 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.”

  Ruth nodded and reached for her cup. “You’re right, Mom. We all need to focus on the positive things.”

  “Danki for helping me fix the fence,” Dad said, smiling at Martha. “Since I have no sons, it’s nice to have a daughter who’s not afraid to get her hands dirty.”

  “Jah, that’s me—Martha the tomboy.”

  “So, how was your morning, and where all did you go?” Dad asked, as they moved away from the fence.

  “My morning was fine. Since most of the snow has melted, the roads were good. I did a little shopping, and then I went out to lunch.” Martha was careful not to mention who she’d had lunch with.

  “I’m glad you were able to get away for a while. You spend too much time around here with those hundlin of yours.”

  “I like spending time with my dogs.”

  “I know, but you’re a young woman and need to be thinking of finding a suitable mate so you can marry and raise a family. Don’t you agree?”

  Martha shrugged. There was no way she could tell her father that she’d already found someone she’d like to marry. Dad would ask who, and if she told him it was Luke, she was certain he would become angry and forbid her to see Luke again. Of course she wasn’t really seeing Luke in a boyfriend-girlfriend sort of way. They were just friends trying to solve a mystery together.

  “Guess I’d better get going,” Dad said, pulling Martha out of her musings. “Ray Larson’s driving me to Millersburg right after lunch so I can get some supplies I need. I’d better get back to the barn and lay some things out for Cleon to do while I’m gone.” He turned and started walking away. “Are you coming?”

  “It’s not as cold today as it has been. I think I’ll go for a walk, but I’ll head for the house soon.”

  “Jah, okay,” he said with a wave.

  Martha was glad Dad had given no objection to her taking a walk. She wanted to snoop around a bit and see if she could find anything that might give some clue as to who had cut the fence.

  She walked along slowly, checking the stubble of grass sticking through the clumps of melting snow. Several feet from the fence, in a cluster of bushes, she spotted a worn-looking glove.

  “Hmm, what have we here?” She bent to pick up the glove.

  “What’s that you’re holding?”

  Startled by the deep voice behind her, Martha jumped up and whirled around. There stood Luke, holding his camera. “You. . .you scared me.”

  “Sorry about that.” Luke glanced around with an anxious expression. “Your daed’s not anywhere nearby, I hope.”

  She shook her head. “He was here a few minutes ago—fixing our fence that someone cut.”

  “I heard about it.”

  “Who told you?”

  Luke’s face colored. “I’d just gotten home from having lunch with you, and when I stepped into the house, I heard your mamm and my mamm talking in the kitchen. When your mamm said your fence had been cut, I decided to hightail it over here and do a little investigating.” He gazed at the fence. “Which part was cut?”

  “Right here.” Martha moved over to stand by the fence and pointed to the spot her father had fixed.

  Luke lifted his camera and took a picture; then he turned to Martha and said, “Did you find that glove somewhere nearby?”

  She nodded. “Found it in the bushes right before you showed up.”

  “Mind if I have a look-see?”

  She handed him the glove.

  “Looks like a work glove to me. I’m guessing whoever cut the fence must have dropped the glove when they were running away.”

  “That’s what I figured, too,” Martha said with a nod. “Do you think we should keep the glove or tell the sheriff about it?”

  He shook his head. “Like I said at lunch, I’m not sure he can be trusted. Besides, we have no definite evidence as to who the attacker might be, so I think it’s best that we keep all the evidence we find to ourselves. Don’t you?”

  “I suppose. If we get more evidence and decide the sheriff doesn’t have anything to do with the attacks, we can turn everything we’ve found over to him.”

  Luke nodded, handed the glove back to her, and snapped another picture.

  “Do you really think that’s going to do any good?”

  Luke shrugged. “You never know. The other glove might show up somewhere. If it does, I’ll know who it belongs to.”

  “But if we keep the glove, we won’t need a picture of it.”

  “Good point.” He grinned. “Guess I’m not real good at this detective thing yet. Maybe the camera was a dumb idea.”

  “It was a good thought,” Martha was quick to say, “but I really don’t think taking pictures will help that much.” She tucked the glove under the band of her apron. “Guess I’d better keep this in a safe place for now.”

  “Did you check for footprints?”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

  “Then let’s do it now.”

  Martha and Luke spent the next several minutes scrutinizing the area around the part of the fence that had been cut. “There’s the print of my sneaker,” Martha said, pointing to the footprints her shoes had made. “And there are some boot prints, but I can’t be sure whether they were made by the person who cut the fence or by my daed.” She grunted and slapped the side of her head. “Guess I should have thought to look for footprints before Dad and I started working on the fence.”

  “Where are you gonna put the glove?” Luke asked.

  “Probably in the hayloft where I hid the wrench.”

  “Are you sure no one will find it there?”

  She nodded. “It’s in a box under a mound of hay where the cats like to sleep. Dad keeps all the hay he needs for feeding the horses in one side of the barn, so he really has no reason to go into the hayloft for anything right now.”

  “Okay. I’d better go. Can we meet somewhere soo
n to discuss things more?” Luke asked.

  Martha’s heartbeat picked up speed, the way it always did whenever she thought about spending time with Luke. “I have next Saturday off.”

  “Where do you want to meet?”

  “How about Heini’s Cheese? That’s a public place, and if someone sees us, they’ll figure we just met there accidentally and are talking. Would two o’clock work for you?”

  Luke smiled and nodded. “I’ll see you at Heini’s then.”

  As Roman and Ray drove through Millersburg in Ray’s station wagon that afternoon, they passed the newspaper office. It made Roman think about Gary Walker and the article he’d written. He had threatened to have a talk with Gary about the things he’d written that weren’t true. Maybe this was the time to make good on his threat.

  He turned to Ray and said, “Would you mind dropping me off at the newspaper office?”

  Ray blinked. “I thought you wanted to go to the Wal-Mart store.”

  “I do, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to run into the newspaper office first. I have something I need to take care of there.”

  “Sure, no problem.” Ray pulled over to the curb. “This a no-parking zone, so I’ll drive around the block a few times, and when I see you standing out front, I’ll pick you up. How’s that sound?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Roman stepped out of the car and closed the door. Then he hurried up the steps and entered the building. He spotted a young woman sitting at a desk just inside the front door. “Excuse me, but is Gary Walker in his office today?”

  The woman shook her curly blond head. “Gary Walker doesn’t work here anymore.”

  “He—he doesn’t?”

  “No. Gary took a job at a newspaper in Redding, California. He’s been gone for over a week.”

  Roman heaved a sigh of relief. If Gary had been attacking them, the attacks would finally be over. If he wasn’t responsible, then it had to be some-one else on his list of suspects.

  As Martha headed for the barn, a biting wind stung her cheeks, and huge flakes of snow landed on her woolen jacket.