Mom shuffled across the room. “I’m going to bed. Are you coming, Roman?”
He shook his head. “I’m not tired. Guess I’ll go out to the barn awhile and think things through.” He turned toward the table, where Ruth and Martha still sat. “If anything else happens, I want to be the first to know. Do you understand?”
They both nodded.
“Good.” He tromped across the room and went out the back door.
Martin felt a sense of excitement as he pulled into the Hostettlers’ and tied his horse to the hitching rail. He was anxious to see Ruth and tell her that he’d put a deposit on the house they would be living in after they were married.
Taking the steps two at a time, he knocked on the door. A few seconds later, Martha answered. “Gut-n-owed,” she said. “Won’t you come in?”
“Good evening,” Martin replied as he entered the house. “I came to see Ruth.”
“I figured as much. She’s in the kitchen.” Martha stepped onto the porch. “Tell my sister I’ve gone out to the kennels to check on my dogs,” she called over her shoulder.
Martin found Ruth sitting at the kitchen table with a cup in her hands. “Are you busy?” he asked.
She looked up and smiled. “Just having some tea. Would you like to join me?”
“Sounds good, if you’ve got some cookies to go with it.”
“I think that can be arranged.” Ruth set the cup down and scurried across the room. A few seconds later she was back with a plate of cookies and a cup for him. “These are ginger cookies from the bakeshop, and they’re really good, so help yourself.”
“Danki.”
“So what brings you by this evening?” she asked after taking a seat.
“Came to see you, of course.” He grabbed a cookie and bit into it. “Mmm. . .this is good.”
She nodded. “Most everything from the bakeshop is pretty tasty.”
“I’ll bet the Clemonses are going to miss your help when you quit work after we’re married. Speaking of which, I stopped over at the Larsons’ this morning and gave them our first month’s rent.”
“So we’re definitely taking the place?”
“Jah, if you’re still okay with the idea of living there until I’m able to build our own house.”
“I’d be willing to live anywhere with you.” Ruth’s tone was sincere, and the tender look she gave Martin made him wish he could marry her right then.
He took her hand. “Just a few more weeks, and we’ll be husband and wife for the rest of our lives.”
“If I can get my wedding dress done in time,” she said, dropping her gaze to the table.
“I thought you were going to make it today.”
“I was until the material got shredded.”
“Huh?”
“Someone shredded all the clothes Mom and I hung on the line this morning—including the material for my wedding dress.”
The rhythm of his heartbeat picked up. “Someone deliberately shredded your clothes?”
She nodded. “We found footprints leading from the clothesline into the field that separates our place from the Larsons’. We think whoever did it ran over there.”
Martin’s jaw clenched as he mulled things over. “If I’d known about this sooner, I would have mentioned it to the Larsons when I went by their place.”
Ruth leaned forward with her elbows on the table. “Martha thought it might be Drew, the Larsons’ grandson who’s been visiting for the past couple of weeks. After we discovered the footprints, she headed over there to ask about it.”
“What’d they say?”
“They assured her that Drew hadn’t left their property all morning.”
“Did Martha believe them?”
Ruth shrugged. “I guess so. She had no reason not to.”
“Was Sheriff Osborn notified?”
“Grace and I went to town while Martha was at the Larsons’, and we stopped to see the sheriff.”
“What’d he say?”
“Just that he’d be keeping a closer eye on things and that we should let him know if anything else happens. Oh, and also that he’s questioned Gary Walker and doesn’t think he’s had anything to do with the attacks.”
“That’s it? He didn’t come out to look at the footprints or check around the place for evidence?”
She shook her head. “If you want my opinion, he hasn’t taken anything that’s been done to us seriously enough. But don’t tell Dad I said so, because as you know, he doesn’t want the sheriff involved any more than he already is.”
Martin nodded. “So if it wasn’t the Larsons’ grandson who shredded the clothes, do you have any idea who might have done it?”
“Grace thinks Gary Walker, that reporter, did it. According to Sadie, Gary has left town now, so hopefully things will settle down again.”
“Let’s hope so,” he said, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. “I can’t have my bride wearing shredded wedding clothes.”
She offered him a feeble smile. Martin had a hunch that Ruth was a lot more upset than she was letting on. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Everything will be all right once we’re married; you’ll see.”
“I’m worried about your mamm,” Roman said as he entered the section of the barn where Martha kenneled her dogs and found her kneeling on the floor, brushing the female sheltie.
“You mean because she went to bed early this evening?” she asked, looking up from her job.
He nodded and took a seat on the wooden stool sitting in the corner of the room.
“It’s been a trying day, and Mom said she had a headache. I’m sure she’ll feel better by morning.”
“Sure hope so.” He drew in a deep breath and released it with a groan. “I’d really hoped these attacks would end, but it doesn’t look like they will until someone is caught.”
Martha put Heidi back in her cage and set the brush on the table where she kept her grooming supplies. “How’s that ever going to happen, Dad?”
“I don’t know.” He gave his left earlobe a tug. “Were there any clues near the clothesline?”
She shook her head. “Nothing except for some footprints leading to the Larsons’ property.”
“The Larsons’?”
“Jah. I’d thought at first it could have been done by their grandson, Drew, but when I went over there to talk to them, I learned that Drew had been there all morning.”
“Hmm. . . Sure wish I knew for sure who’s been doing all these things.”
“I hope you don’t still suspect Luke.”
“Well, his sunglasses were found on the ground after your mamm’s clothesline was cut. And then his straw hat was found near the barn right after that brick was thrown through the kitchen window.”
“Those incidents happened last year,” she reminded him. “Besides, Luke admitted the items were his and said he had dropped them.”
Roman folded his arms. “I didn’t believe him then, and I’ve got my suspicions that the pack of cigarettes I found the day our place got toilet-papered might have belonged to Luke, too.”
“Maybe someone’s trying to make it look like Luke’s the one responsible. Have you thought of that possibility?”
He shrugged. “Guess anything’s possible, but Luke more than any of the other suspects on our list has reason to get even with me.”
“How do you know the one doing the attacks is trying to get even with you? Maybe it’s as Grace says, and the reporter’s trying to get even with her.”
“I suppose it’s possible, but—”
“I don’t believe Luke would boldly commit acts of vandalism against his own people, even if he is angry with you.”
“Bishop King thinks I’m being too harsh and judgmental where Luke’s concerned.”
Martha stared at the floor.
“Well,” Roman said as he stepped down from the stool, “we won’t solve anything by gabbing. I’ve got some horses that need to be fed.”
“And I still need to br
ush Fritz,” Martha said, reaching for the dog brush.
“Don’t stay out here working with those dogs too late, you hear?”
“I won’t, Dad.”
As Roman headed for the horse stalls, he offered up a silent prayer. Father in heaven, please keep my family safe.
You don’t look so well. Are you feeling all right?” Cleon asked Grace as they sat at the breakfast table the next morning.
She pushed her spoon around in her bowl. “I’m tired and not so hungry.”
“Can I have your piece of toast?” Anna asked. “I’m very hungry this morning.”
Grace handed her toast over to Anna. “Do you want more oatmeal, too?”
Anna shook her head. “I think I’ll be full after I eat the toast.”
Grace offered Anna a feeble smile as she reached for her cup of tea.
“Are you still upset about what happened yesterday?” Cleon asked.
“A little,” she replied with a shrug. “But I think everything’s going to be okay now that Gary has left town.”
“We don’t know if he’s the one who. . .” Cleon’s voice trailed off when he noticed Anna staring at him. “Let’s talk about this later, okay?”
Grace nodded and pushed away from the table. “Right now I need to get lunches fixed for you and Anna so you can be off to work and I can take her to school.”
“Would you like me to take her this morning?” he asked.
“I’d better to do it since you have to open the woodworking shop.”
“I’m sure your daed’s done that already.”
Grace shook her head. “While you were out checking on your bee boxes earlier, Dad stopped by the house and said he was taking Mom to see the chiropractor this morning. She complained of a headache yesterday, so he thinks her neck might be out of adjustment.”
“Sorry to hear she’s hurting.” Cleon stood and moved over to the counter where Grace had begun making their lunches. “I could still drive Anna to school and then open the shop after I get back.”
“There’s no need for you to do that.”
Cleon reached for his lunch box. “Guess I’ll head to work, then. If you’re feeling up to it, stop down during my lunch hour and we can talk some more.”
She nodded. “I will.”
Cleon gave Grace a kiss on the cheek and started for the door. His fingers had just touched the doorknob when Anna called out to him.
“Have a good day, Papa.”
He turned and smiled at her. “You have a good day, too, Anna.”
By the time Grace returned from taking Anna to school, she’d noticed some pain in her lower back, so she decided to rest on the couch awhile.
She punched the pillow under her head a few times, trying to find a comfortable position, then finally dozed off.
Sometime later she awoke. Finding the sofa damp, she realized her water had broken. Her stomach cramped, and she groaned. “I think I’d better get to the birthing center as soon as I can.”
Figuring her folks were probably back from town by now, Grace headed over to their place to see if Mom would walk down to the phone shed and call someone to give her a ride to the Doughty View Midwifery Center, where many Amish women from their community went to have their babies.
By the time Grace reached her folks’ house, the pains had increased. They were still far enough apart that she figured they had plenty of time to get to the birthing center before the baby came.
She opened the back door and stuck her head inside. “Mom? Are you to home?”
No answer.
“Martha, are you here?”
No response.
Grace stepped into the kitchen and leaned against the counter as another contraction gripped her stomach. When it eased, she moved over to the table to take a seat and spotted a note lying there. It was from Martha, letting Mom know that she’d gone to work at Irene’s.
“I’d better go down to the woodworking shop and let Cleon know what’s happening,” Grace murmured. “I don’t think this boppli will wait until Mom gets home.”
Cleon had just begun sanding a set of cabinets when Grace entered the shop, looking pale and shaken.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, moving quickly to her side. “Has there been another attack?”
She shook her head. “I’m in labor.”
Cleon’s mouth fell open. “Are you sure?”
“My water broke, and I’m having some pretty hard contractions.” Grace grasped the edge of his workbench. “Mom and Dad still aren’t home, and Martha left a note on Mom’s table saying she was going to your mamm’s place to work. So I came here to see if you’d call someone to drive me to the birthing center.”
Cleon nodded. He led Grace over to a chair behind her dad’s desk. “Sit right here. I won’t be long.”
He made a dash for the door and ran all the way to the phone shed. His fingers trembled as he dialed the Larsons’ number, and he felt relief when Donna answered on the second ring.
“Grace is in labor. We need a ride to the Doughty View Midwifery Center,” he panted.
“Ray’s gone for the day, but I’ll be right over,” Donna said.
“We’ll be waiting for you at Roman’s shop.”
When Cleon returned to the shop, he found Grace slumped over the desk. “What’s happened? Are you okay?”
She lifted her head. “Yes.”
“I spoke with Donna, and she’s on her way. We should be at the birthing center soon.”
“I hope so, because the pains are coming quicker.”
“Do you think I should call 9-1-1 and get an ambulance here?”
Grace shook her head. “I’m sure we have enough time to get there before the boppli’s born.”
“That had better be the case, because I’ve never delivered a baby before—just a couple of calves.”
Grace gritted her teeth, and Cleon figured she was having another contraction. “I don’t think you’ll have to deliver this baby, so you needn’t look so worried,” she said.
A horn honked. “That must be Donna.” Cleon helped Grace out the door and into Donna’s car. “I’d better ride in the back with my wife,” he told Donna.
She nodded. “No problem.”
They’d only gone a short distance when Donna’s car overheated and she had to pull onto the shoulder of the road. “I told Ray to check under the hood the last time he filled my car with gas,” Donna mumbled. “I suspected there was a leak in the radiator, but he said he would check things out and take care of it if there was a problem.”
Grace moaned and clutched the front of Cleon’s shirt. “The pains are coming faster.”
Cleon’s mouth went dry. Was he going to have to deliver this baby?
As Ruth headed down the road toward home, her thoughts went to Martin. In just a few weeks they would become husband and wife, and she could hardly wait. She planned to work on her wedding dress this evening, and things were coming together. Cleon’s sister, Carolyn, would provide candles for the tables, and Martha and Sadie had agreed to be her attendants. Martin’s brother, Dan, and the bishop’s son, Toby, would be his attendants.
Ruth’s thoughts were halted when she spotted Donna Larson’s car stopped along the side of the road with the hood up and a curl of steam pouring out. Donna stood beside the car shaking her head.
Ruth guided her horse and buggy to the shoulder of the road, climbed down, and hurried over to Donna’s car. “What’s the problem? Did your car overheat?”
“Yes, and your sister’s in the backseat, about to have her baby.” Donna grimaced. “I left my cell phone at home, so I can’t even call for help. I was hoping another car would come by, but you’re the first person I’ve seen since the car overheated.”
Ruth hurried around to the back of the car and jerked the door open. She was surprised to see Cleon there, red-faced, wide-eyed, and hunched over Grace. “Don’t push, Grace. Not yet,” he instructed.
Grace’s face twisted in obvious pain. “It’s coming
, Cleon. The boppli is coming.”
Ruth’s knees nearly buckled as she struggled against a wave of dizziness. She couldn’t just stand here like a ninny; she had to do something to help her sister. The only experience she’d had with birthing was watching one of their barn cats deliver her kittens, so she wasn’t sure what to do.
Cleon didn’t seem to notice Ruth as he continued to coach Grace. “Easy now. We’re almost there. That’s it. . . . I can see the head. . . . Okay now, push!”
Unable to watch, yet reluctant to look away, Ruth felt her eyes mist as she witnessed the miracle of birth. A few seconds later, she heard a lusty cry, and a newborn babe lay across her sister’s stomach.
“It’s a buwe!” Cleon cried. “We have ourselves a boy!”
Grace lay exhausted against the seat as she stroked her son’s downy dark head. “Gott is gut,” she murmured. “Jah, God is good.”
As Grace settled herself against the cleaned sofa cushions, snuggling a tiny bundle of joy in her arms, she reflected on all that had transpired during the last twenty-four hours. She’d fully intended to have her baby at the Doughty View Midwifery Center. Instead, she’d ended up giving birth in the backseat of Donna Larson’s car, with Cleon acting as midwife. After Ruth went to the nearest phone shed to call for help, Grace and the baby had been taken by ambulance to the hospital in Millersburg to be checked over. Then Ruth had gone home to tell her folks and Martin’s family the news and to see that Anna was picked up from school. This morning, Cleon had called Ray Larson to pick them up at the hospital, and now Grace and the baby were home where they belonged.
“Come say hello to your little bruder,” Grace said, motioning for Anna to take a seat beside her.
The child hovered near the sofa, wearing an expectant look on her face, but she finally sat down. “He’s sure tiny and red in the face. What’s his name?” she asked, leaning close to the baby.
“Don’t put your face so near to his,” Cleon said as he took a seat on the other side of Grace. “You’ve had a cold, and I don’t want you giving it to the boppli.”
A Sister's Test Page 11