“Hungerich,” Molly said, tugging on Ruth’s sleeve.
“Well, then, if you’re hungry, I think the two of us should have a little snack.” Ruth clambered to her feet, grabbed a box of crackers from the cupboard, and placed them on the table. Then she set Molly in a chair and spread several crackers on the table in front of her.
As Ruth joined Molly at the table, she realized she’d been taking things too seriously lately. What she should be doing was asking God to help her with Gideon, not arguing with the boy or trying to solve things on her own.
She glanced over at Molly and smiled. And I definitely need to laugh and smile a lot more.
Thump-thump-thump! Martha jumped when she heard someone knocking at the front door. None of their friends or relatives ever used that door.
“I’ll get it,” Mom said as she placed her kitchen towel on the counter. She hurried from the room and returned shortly with a smile on her face. “There’s someone here to look at the hundlin you have for sale.”
Martha dried her hands on the towel and hurried from the kitchen. Apparently, someone had read the ad she’d put in the newspaper. Either that, or they’d seen the sign posted out front by the driveway advertising sheltie and beagle puppies.
When Martha went to the door, she discovered a middle-aged English couple on the porch. “My mother says you’re interested in seeing some of my dogs?”
“Oh yes,” the dark-haired woman said with a nod. “We read your ad in the Bargain Hunter, and we’re interested in seeing the sheltie puppies.” She smiled at the balding man who stood beside her. “I’ve wanted a sheltie for some time. Isn’t that right, Philip?”
He nodded. “Can we take a look at the pups now?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll just get my jacket, and then I’ll take you out to the kennels.” Martha hurried to the utility room where her jacket hung and then rushed back out to the porch where the couple waited. “Follow me,” she said, leading the way across the yard toward the barn.
She found the barn door unlocked but figured Dad had already been out there this morning before he and Cleon had left for Sugarcreek to deliver some cabinets. What she hadn’t figured on was the sight that greeted her when she stepped inside the barn and lit the nearest gas lantern. Heidi and Polly were both running free, and so were their puppies. Had the dogs figured out how to get their cage doors open now, too?
“Oh, my! What’s that awful smell?” the woman asked, sniffing the air. “It smells like fresh—”
“Horse manure,” the man said, finishing her sentence. “And there’s the reason we smell it.” He pointed to one of the beagle pups. “That dog’s hair is covered with manure.”
“Eww!” The woman wrinkled her nose. “That’s really disgusting!”
Yip! Yip! Yip!
Martha gasped when she spotted a puppy tail sticking through a thin opening in a nearby wooden crate. Its mother, Polly, let out an ear-piercing howl and jumped up, planting both paws on the woman’s jean-clad knees.
“Get down!” the woman shrieked, pushing the dog away. She looked over at Martha and frowned. “What kind of business are you running here anyway?”
“I assure you—”
“She’s running a puppy mill, that’s what.” The man made a sweeping gesture with one hand. “No one running a respectable kennel would allow their dogs to run all over the place, rolling in horse manure, getting stuck in wooden crates, and who knows what else!”
The woman turned toward the door. “Let’s go, Philip. I would never buy a puppy from anyone who neglects their dogs in such a way!”
“I don’t neglect my dogs,” Martha mumbled as the couple left the barn. She glanced down at Heidi, who was looking up at her with sorrowful brown eyes. “I would never mistreat any of my dogs.”
A sudden realization came to Martha. Someone must have sneaked into the barn and let the dogs out. Someone wanted to make it look like she wasn’t taking good care of her dogs.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Luke halted at the bottom of the stairs and turned to face his father. “I’m heading to work.”
“Without breakfast?” his mother asked, as she stepped out of the kitchen and into the hall.
“I slept later than I should have. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late.”
Pop grimaced and shook his head. “You got in late last night, didn’t you?”
Luke nodded.
“I heard your truck rumble in, and when I looked at the clock, it was after midnight.” Pop grunted. “Where’d you park that truck, anyway? Not on our property, I hope.”
Luke shook his head. “I parked it behind some bushes along the side of the road, not far from our driveway.”
Pop grunted again.
“Where were you at such a late hour, Luke?” Mom asked.
“I was in New Philly most of the evening, and then I drove around for a while.”
“Drove around, huh? Don’t you know we were worried?” Pop’s voice rose, and a vein on the side of his neck bulged.
Luke massaged the back of his head. He’d woken with a headache—no doubt from lack of sleep. “I’m sorry if I made you worry, but as you can see, I’m fine and dandy.”
Pop planted both hands on his hips. “You’re fine and dandy all right—out all hours on a weeknight, driving around in that fancy truck of yours, doing who knows what.” He stared at Luke. “I want to know exactly where you were and what you were doing.”
Luke’s jaw dropped. “I’m not a little buwe, Pop. I don’t think I should have to account for every minute I’m away from the house.”
Pop clapped his hands, and Mom jumped.
“Really, Elam, do you have to shout at our son like that?”
Pop scowled at her. “I do when he’s being disrespectful, not to mention rebellious and defiant.” He shook his finger at Luke. “I don’t think you’d have been out so late last night if you’d been driving a horse and buggy, now would you?”
“Probably not, but—”
“It’s that fancy truck that’s causing you problems. I demand that you put it up for sale, and you’d better do it today!”
Luke shook his head. “I need my truck, Pop.”
“What do you need it for?” Mom spoke softly, and Luke could see by the strained look on her face that she was struggling not to cry.
“I can’t say why I need it.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Dad hollered.
Luke shifted from one foot to the other, wondering how much he dared say to his folks without telling them the real reason he felt he needed to own a truck right now. “I’m still going through my rumschpringe, you know.”
“Like we needed that reminder.” Pop slowly shook his head. “You’ve been going through your running-around years long enough. It’s time to settle down and make a commitment to God and to our church.”
“I’m not ready.”
Pop moved closer to Luke, until they were nose to nose. “I’m tired of all this, boy. If you won’t sell that truck, then you’ll have to move out of my house.”
Mom gasped. “Ach, not this again! You can’t mean it, Elam!”
He nodded soberly. “I do mean it.”
Mom stepped forward and placed her hand on Luke’s arm. “I’m begging you. Please do as your daed asks.”
Luke swallowed hard. He didn’t want to disappoint his mother, but he wasn’t ready to make a decision about joining the church yet.
Pop nudged Luke’s back with his elbow. “What’s it gonna be, son?”
Luke turned and grabbed his jacket off the wall peg by the door. “I’m not willing to sell my truck at this time, and I’m not ready to join the church yet. If you’re opposed to me living here under those conditions, then I guess it is time for me to move out.” Before either of his folks could respond, Luke jerked open the back door. “I’ll be back after work to get my things!”
As Luke sped out of his parents’ driveway, his emotions dipped like a roller
coaster. Why wouldn’t Pop believe him? Why hadn’t he been able to find out who was responsible for the attacks against the Hostettlers? Should he give up looking for clues? Should he sell his truck and join the church? Would it be better for all if he forgot about being Amish and became English?
He gripped the steering wheel until his fingers started to throb. If I jump the fence and go English, I’ll have no chance with Martha.
By the time Luke arrived at John’s shop, he’d made a decision. He needed to continue trying to find out who was behind the Hostettler attacks, which would clear his name with Roman. Then, and only then, would he make the commitment to join the church.
When Luke entered the shop, John looked up from the paperwork he was doing and pointed to the clock sitting on his desk. “You’re half an hour late, Luke. Did another buggy wheel fall off?”
“Not this time. I drove my truck this morning.”
“Did it break down on the way here or what?”
“No. I had a disagreement with my folks.” Luke yanked the stocking cap off his head and tossed it on the closest workbench. “It was mostly with my dad, I guess.”
“That made you late to work?”
Luke nodded. “My dad wants me to sell my truck and join the Amish church. He said if I didn’t, I’d have to move out. So I left.”
John’s eyebrows lifted high on his forehead. “You mean you moved out of your folks’ house?”
“That’s right.” Luke released a gusty sigh. “Guess I’ll have to sleep in my truck until I can find some place to live.”
John scrubbed a hand over his clean-shaven chin. “I suppose I could set up a cot for you in the back room. The sink and toilet would give you the basic necessities. I’ve also got a small microwave and a hot plate I could let you use.”
“You’d really do that for me?”
“You need somewhere to stay. I can’t have my best employee living out of his truck, now can I?”
“What do you mean, John? I’m your only employee.”
John chuckled. “That’s right, and since we’ve got a lot of work to do today, I think we’d better quit chewin’ the fat and get busy, don’t you?”
Luke nodded and grabbed a leather work apron from the nail near his workbench. “Thanks, John. Thanks for everything.”
As Martha headed for the barn, she spotted Ray Larson looking over at their place with his binoculars again. She had plenty of time this morning, so maybe she should find out what their neighbor found so interesting.
She hurried across the pasture separating their place from the Larsons’, and when she reached the other side, Ray trained his binoculars on her. “ ’Morning, Martha. What brings you over to our place?” he asked with a smile.
“I was heading to the barn to feed my dogs when I noticed you leaning over the fence with your binoculars. I wondered what you were looking at.”
He lowered the binoculars. “I was studying an unusual bird that flew toward your place. Haven’t seen one like it around here before, and I wanted to get a better look.”
“What did the bird look like?”
“It had an orange head and a black body.” Ray scratched the side of his head. “No, I think its head was more of a yellow color.”
Martha opened her mouth to comment, but Ray rushed on.
“I checked my bird identification book, and the closest I’ve been able to come to what I saw is the yellow-headed blackbird. But those birds are usually found in marshy areas, and I’ve never seen one around here.” He looked right at Martha. “You didn’t happen to see it, did you?”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t looking for birds this morning. I was focused on getting my dogs fed.”
“Speaking of your dogs, how’s the kennel business doing these days?”
“Not so well. I placed an ad in the paper, and there’s a sign out by the road, but so far, I haven’t sold any of Heidi’s or Polly’s puppies.” Martha thought about telling Ray about the incident with the English couple who’d come to look at puppies but decided it was best left unsaid. No point in giving Ray, who had a tendency toward gossip, something to spread around the neighborhood.
“That’s too bad,” Ray said with a shake of his head. “We’ve been real happy with the dog we bought from you. I would think anyone buying one of your pups would be satisfied, too.”
Martha sighed. “Guess I’ll have to keep trying.”
He smiled. “That’s right. I never did like a quitter.”
Martha turned toward home. “I’d better get to the barn and feed those dogs, or they’ll be yapping up a storm.”
“Tell your folks I said hello,” Ray called.
“I will,” Martha said with a farewell wave.
Sometime later, with the dogs fed and watered, Martha stepped out of the barn, relieved that she’d found no messes this morning and that all the dogs had been in their cages. She was about to head for the house, when a dark blue car came up the driveway. She didn’t recognize the vehicle or the middle-aged man with thinning brown hair who got out of the car. She walked up to him and was about to ask if he was looking for her father’s woodworking shop, when he spoke first.
“I’m here to see my granddaughter. Is she at home?”
Martha squinted. Granddaughter? She figured the man must be lost. “What’s your granddaughter’s name? If she lives around here, I probably know her and can give you directions to her house.”
“Her name’s Anna, and she lives with her mother, Grace.”
Martha’s mouth fell open. “Are. . .are you Carl Davis?”
He nodded.
Martha knew Carl Davis was the father of Grace’s deceased English husband. He was the one who’d brought Anna to live with Grace almost two years ago. Martha hadn’t been home at the time, so she’d never met the man in person; Grace had told her and the rest of the family how Carl’s wife had died and that he’d been having health problems and had decided Anna would be better off with her mother.
“Is Anna here or not?”
Martha shook her head. “She’s in school today.”
“What time will she be home?”
“Later this afternoon.”
“What about Grace? Is she at home?”
Martha’s heart began to pound. Except for a few letters and some gifts Carl had sent to Anna, he’d never made any other contact or come to visit the child. Martha knew from what Grace had said that she was glad he hadn’t come around. It would have probably confused Anna, or maybe made her want to go back to live with the man she called “Poppy.” Grace had lost Anna once, after her husband’s death when his parents had taken Anna to live with them. Martha knew it would break her sister’s heart if she lost Anna a second time.
She shifted uneasily, not knowing how to respond to Carl’s question. It wouldn’t be right to lie, but if she told Carl where Grace lived and he went over there demanding to take Anna away, Grace would be devastated.
“Did you hear what I said? I’d like to see Grace,” Carl persisted.
Martha pointed to the driveway leading to Grace and Cleon’s house. “Grace and her husband live up there now.”
A look of relief spread over Carl’s face. “Thanks. I’ll leave my car parked here and walk up.”
Martha wished there was some way she could warn Grace that Carl was coming. Maybe she should walk with him to Grace’s house. At least that way, she’d be there to offer Grace some support.
“I think I’ll walk along,” she said as Carl started up the driveway.
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Grace had just diapered Daniel and put him down for a nap when she heard the back door open and close. She knew it couldn’t be Anna, because she was at school. It wasn’t likely to be Cleon, either, since he and Dad had a backlog of orders right now and were hard at work in Dad’s shop in the barn. It must be Mom or Martha.
“It’s me, Grace,” Martha called up the stairs. “Are you up there?”
“Jah, just putting Daniel
down for his morning nap.”
A few minutes later, Martha entered the baby’s bedroom. A worried-looking frown creased her forehead.
“What’s the matter? You look upset.” Grace rushed to Martha’s side. “Please don’t tell me there’s been another attack.”
“No, but there’s someone downstairs, and I don’t think you’ll be too happy to see him.”
Grace’s mouth went dry and her palms grew sweaty. “Is it Gary Walker? Has he come back to Holmes County?”
Martha shook her head. “It’s Anna’s grandfather.”
Grace squinted. “Dad?”
“The other grandfather.”
“Carl Davis?”
“Jah. He pulled into our driveway as I was coming out of the barn, and he asked to see Anna.”
Grace’s legs wobbled, and she sank to the edge of her bed. “What did you tell him?”
“I said Anna wasn’t here, that she was in school.” Martha took a seat beside Grace. “Then he asked to see you, so I brought him up here.” She reached for Grace’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “He’s in the living room, waiting to speak with you.”
Fear gripped Grace like a vise, and she clutched her sister’s hand. “What does he want, Martha? Why, after all these months, has Carl come to Holmes County?”
“I don’t know. He only said he wanted to speak with you.”
Grace took a couple of deep breaths and tried to think. “What if he wants Anna back? What if he’s come to make trouble?” Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. “I couldn’t bear to lose my little girl again.”
Martha shook her head. “You’re not going to lose her. You need to go down there, listen to what the man has to say, and if it’s what you fear, then tell him in no uncertain terms that your daughter is staying with you.”
“When Carl first brought Anna back to me, I told him I would never give her up again.”
“Of course you won’t. You love Anna, and she’s happy here with you and Cleon.” Martha patted Grace’s arm. “Anna loves you. I’m sure she wouldn’t want to leave, even if Carl wanted her to.”
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