The last time she’d tried talking to him, he’d said he was too busy to listen to her lies and had asked her to leave.
“They aren’t lies,” she muttered under her breath.
Rosemary had been tempted to tell Judith or one of Roman’s daughters what had happened to the letters she’d written home all those years ago, but she’d decided against it. She needed to tell Roman before she told anyone else, and she didn’t want him to think his wife and daughters were playing go-between.
The front door swung open, and Rosemary bumped into Roman.
“I was on my way out,” he said in a brusque tone. “Got some deliveries to make.”
“Can’t you spare a minute? I’d like to speak to you.”
“Don’t have the time.” Roman brushed past her and headed for the buggy shed.
Rosemary hurried after him. “I was wondering if you could give me our brothers’ addresses. I’d like to write them. And since Geauga County is only a couple hours away, I might drive up there and see Walt.”
Roman halted and turned to face her. “If you didn’t care enough about them to write before, you don’t need their addresses now.”
Rosemary clenched her fingers around the handles of her purse. “If you’d let me explain why you never got my letters—”
“I’m not interested!” Roman stalked off with a huff.
“Maybe I should forget about reconciling with my family,” Rosemary muttered as she turned toward her car.
Don’t give up, a voice in her head seemed to say. This is just a testing of your faith.
As Ruth headed for Abe’s harness shop with his lunch box, she mentally lectured herself. Martin’s not here; Ivan’s taken his place. Life goes on; I must accept the way things are. With God’s help, I’ll make every day count, for I know how short life can be.
When she stepped into the harness shop a few minutes later, the pungent odor of neat’s-foot oil tickled her nose, and she sneezed.
“Gott segen eich.”
She caught sight of Abe down on his haunches, oiling an old saddle. “Danki for giving me God’s blessing. Now here’s a blessing for you,” she said, setting Abe’s lunch box on his desk. “My mamm baked some cinnamon-raisin bread on Saturday, so that’s what your sandwich is made with today.”
Abe smacked his lips. “That does sound like a blessing.”
Ruth smiled. Abe was such a kind, appreciative man.
“Where are my little ones today?” he asked. “They usually tag along when you come out to my shop.”
“Martha came over and got them a while ago. She took all but Gideon home with her so they could play with Anna and see Martha’s new dog.”
“How come Gideon didn’t go along?”
“He said he had work to do in the barn.”
“If he’d gotten it done first thing this morning, he would have been free to go.” Abe grimaced and rose to his feet. “Seems I’ve got to stay after that boy all the time. I’d have him working for me here a few hours every day, but he’s not dependable.”
Ruth wondered if there was something she might do to make Gideon see the error of his ways, but she figured he was Abe’s boy and Abe should take care of the problem.
“I’ll be up at the house washing clothes if you need me for anything.” She was about to walk away, but Abe tapped her on the shoulder.
“I was wondering if you’d like to go out for a meal one night next week with me and the kinner.”
“But I’ve got all your meals planned already,” she was quick to say.
“That might be so, but I figured the kinner would like an evening out at a restaurant. Since next Friday is Esta’s birthday, I thought having supper out would be a nice way to celebrate.”
“I hadn’t realized her birthday was coming up. She never said a word about it, and neither did anyone else.”
Abe smiled. “So what do you say—shall we take my brood to supper at the Farmstead Restaurant on Friday night?”
She nodded. “That sounds like fun.”
Cleon had no sooner entered the newspaper office than he began to have second thoughts. He’d promised Grace that he would seek out Gary Walker and speak to him about the mailbox incident and the other attacks against the Hostettlers, but he wasn’t sure what he should say or how it would be received. If Gary was the one responsible, he might become angry at the accusations and further harass Grace’s family. On the other hand, Gary needed to know that the sheriff had been informed and had promised to keep an eye on the place. That might deter him from trying anything else.
“I understand you have a reporter working here by the name of Gary Walker,” Cleon said, stepping up to the receptionist’s desk.
The young woman sitting behind the desk looked up at Cleon and smiled. “That’s right. He started working here last week.”
Cleon shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I was wondering if I might speak with him.”
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Walker isn’t in right now. He left early this morning to cover a story in Sugarcreek, and I’m not sure what time he’ll be back.”
“Oh, I see.” Cleon turned to go, feeling a sense of disappointment. He didn’t know when he’d have the chance to come to Millersburg again, and he wouldn’t feel right asking Roman for more time off this week.
He headed for the door and had just stepped outside when he spotted Gary Walker coming down the street. He stopped walking and waited until the man approached. “You’re Gary Walker, the reporter, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“I’m Cleon Schrock—Grace’s husband.”
Gary studied Cleon a few seconds, then gave a slow nod. “You must be her second husband. She told me about you, but we haven’t had the privilege of meeting until now.”
“Actually, we have met. You tried to interview me in Berlin a couple of times.”
Gary shrugged. “I’ve interviewed a lot of Amish folks.”
Cleon cleared his throat and wiped his sweaty palms on the sides of his trousers. “I was wondering. . . The thing is. . .”
“If you’ve got something to say, Mr. Schrock, then just say it. I’m a busy man and don’t have any time to spare this morning.”
“As I’m sure you know, my wife’s family has been attacked several times in the last several months.”
Gary gave a quick nod.
“On Saturday morning, we discovered that our mailboxes had been smashed in, and there was a note attached to one of the boxes.”
“What’d the note say?”
“ ‘I’m not done with you yet.’ ”
“Sounds like someone has an ax to grind with one of the Hostettlers, doesn’t it?”
Cleon clenched his teeth. “Grace thinks—”
“I already know what she thinks. She believes I’m the one responsible because I told her once that she’d be sorry for breaking up with me.” Gary grunted. “That woman is so paranoid. Doesn’t she realize that guys say a lot of things they don’t mean when they’ve been jilted?”
Cleon wasn’t sure how to respond. Maybe Grace had read more into Gary’s warning than there was. Maybe it hadn’t been a threat but rather the wounded pride of a hotheaded teenager trying to scare his girlfriend into coming back to him.
“So you’re not responsible for the vandalism to our mailboxes or any of the other things that have gone on at the Hostettlers’?”
“Nope. I’m an innocent man.” Gary brushed past Cleon. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”
Cleon watched as Gary entered the newspaper office. Maybe the man was telling the truth. But if Gary wasn’t responsible for the attacks, who was?
I’m glad you came out to supper with us,” Esta said, smiling at Ruth as she sat at a table with Abe’s family at the Farmstead Restaurant on Friday evening.
“I’m glad I did, too. Happy birthday, Esta.” Ruth patted the child’s arm.
Esta grinned at Ruth. “Danki for the birthday present you gave me.”
The child looked down at the small black handbag in her lap. “Mama had one like this, only it was bigger.”
Ruth smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”
Esta looked at her father. “Since we’ve already said our silent prayer, can we go to the salad bar now? I can’t wait for some pickled eggs.”
Abe tweaked the girl’s nose. “Sure, go ahead.” He nodded at Ruth. “If you’d like to go with the older kinner, I’ll wait here with Molly. Then I’ll go for my salad when you get back.”
“Mammi. . .”
Ruth smiled at Molly, who was sitting in the high chair the restaurant had provided, eating a cracker. She patted the little girl’s chubby arm and turned to face Abe. “I don’t mind waiting with Molly if you’d like to go to the salad bar first.”
He shook his head. “I’ll wait.”
“Okay. I’ll see what’s there that Molly can eat and bring her something back.” Ruth slid her chair away from the table and followed Abe’s children to the salad bar. She was ready to take a plate when she spotted her friend Sadie coming into the restaurant with her boyfriend, Toby. Sadie didn’t appear to notice Ruth as she hurried to the ladies’ room. Toby didn’t see her, either, for he was busy talking to the hostess.
Ruth bent down and whispered in Esta’s ear, “I’ll be right back. Can you help Owen and Willis get their food?”
“Where are you going?” Esta looked up at Ruth with questioning eyes.
“Just need to use the restroom.”
“Jah, sure. I’ll help the boys get whatever they need.”
Ruth smiled. Esta might be only nine years old, but she seemed so grown up at times.
When Ruth entered the ladies’ room, she discovered Sadie at the sink, washing her hands. Sadie must have spotted Ruth in the mirror, for she turned and smiled. “I’m surprised to see you here. Did you come with your folks?”
“I came with Abe and his kinner. We’re celebrating Esta’s birthday.”
“How nice.” Sadie smiled. “How’s your job going at Abe’s?”
“I’m doing my best to keep up with things at the house, and it’s nice to spend time with Abe’s kinner.” Ruth sighed. “It makes me feel useful and gives my life purpose.”
“Everyone needs a purpose.” Sadie nudged Ruth’s arm. “Maybe you’ll end up marrying Abe. Then your life will have purpose for years to come.”
“What?”
“I was thinking you might marry Abe.”
“That’s ridiculous, Sadie. Abe’s ten years older than me, and—”
“So what? My mamm’s eight years younger than my daed.”
“Even if there was no age difference, there’s no love between me and Abe.”
“Who says there has to be love? A mutual respect might be all that’s needed.” Sadie turned her palms up. “Look at my relationship with Toby. I love him, and he says he loves me, yet he still hasn’t asked me to marry him. What good has love done me?”
Ruth mulled things over a bit. Maybe Sadie was right about love not being a necessary ingredient in marriage—especially if it meant she could be a mother.
She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and noticed that the dark circles she’d been plagued with for the last several months had diminished. Would Abe even consider asking me to marry him? She looked away. Surely not. He’s still in love with his wife. And I love Martin.
“Martin would want you to find happiness again,” Sadie said, seeming to read Ruth’s thoughts.
Ruth shrugged. “Maybe so, but I’m sure Abe would never ask me to marry him.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
A slow smile spread across Sadie’s face. “Then why don’t you ask him?”
Ruth’s spine went rigid. “Ach, I could never do that!”
“Why not?”
“It would be too bold.” She squinted at Sadie. “I don’t see you asking Toby to marry you.”
Sadie’s face flooded with color. “No, but I’ve thought about it.”
Ruth folded her arms across her chest. “When you become bold enough to propose to Toby, then I’ll think about asking Abe to marry me.”
Martha was bent over a small table in the section of her father’s barn that had been turned into a kennel when she heard the barn door open and click shut.
“Is anyone here?”
Martha recognized her aunt’s voice immediately; Rosemary had been coming over once or twice a week ever since she’d returned to Holmes County.
“I’m back here by the kennels.”
“What are you up to?” Aunt Rosemary asked when she joined Martha.
Martha lifted Heidi’s left front paw. “I’ve been clipping my dog’s toenails.”
Aunt Rosemary reached over and stroked Heidi behind her ear. “How’s your business doing these days?”
“The female beagle I bought several weeks ago still isn’t pregnant, but I haven’t lost hope.”
Aunt Rosemary released a sigh and leaned against the table. “Wish I could say the same regarding your dad and me.”
“He still won’t talk to you?”
“No.”
“Dad can be real stubborn sometimes,” Martha said with a shake of her head. “Have you tried talking to Mom about this? Maybe she can make him listen to reason.”
“I just came from seeing her at the house—after I’d been to your dad’s shop and gotten nowhere.”
“Dad’s still working in the shop at this hour?”
Aunt Rosemary nodded. “I saw the lights on when I drove in, so I stopped there first and found him restoring an old chair. Then I went up to the house and saw your mother. I was tempted to tell her my story but decided it would be best if your dad heard it from me, not secondhand.” She sighed. “If I ever get him to listen, that is. He makes me feel so frustrated.”
“I know what you mean about frustration.” Martha placed Heidi back in her kennel and turned to face her aunt. “Nothing’s been the same around here since someone started attacking my family, and things are getting steadily worse.”
Aunt Rosemary’s eyebrows shot up. “What kind of attacks? No one’s mentioned anything about that to me.”
“Dad thinks it’s better if we don’t talk about it, and Mom pretty much agrees.”
“And what do you think, Martha?”
“I’d like to find out who’s behind the attacks and make them stop.” Martha grunted. “Of course, unless the sheriff does more than promise to keep an eye on our place, that’s not likely to happen.”
“You’ve spoken with the sheriff?”
“A couple of us have. He’s been out to our place a few times to ask questions and look around, too.”
“And he’s been patrolling the area?”
“That’s what he says. But the attacks have continued, and we have no idea why we’re being singled out.” She shrugged. “Of course, each of us has our own idea about who could be responsible.”
“You mean you have a list of suspects?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Does the sheriff know this?”
“Yes. Dad has talked to him a few times.”
“Well, the man should be making every effort to do something about it.”
“I agree.”
“Maybe I’ll pay a call to the sheriff tomorrow morning. Would you like to accompany me?”
Martha nodded. Since Aunt Rosemary wasn’t Amish, maybe Sheriff Osborn would take her more seriously than he had the others.
Aunt Rosemary gave Martha a hug. “Until tomorrow, then.”
“What are you doing in my barn, talking to my daughter?” Dad shouted as he stepped out of the shadows.
Martha jumped. “We were just visiting,” she said before her aunt could respond.
“I wasn’t talking to you, daughter. I was talking to her.” Dad whirled toward Aunt Rosemary and scowled.
“Martha’s right; we were visiting.”
“Jah, well, you’re not welcome here. And I’
ll thank you to stay away from my family.”
Martha’s mouth opened wide. “Dad, you can’t mean that.”
His forehead wrinkled as he gave one quick nod. “This woman is nothing but trouble. I don’t want her influencing you.”
“She’s not.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to defend me.” Aunt Rosemary gave Martha’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll be going now.”
As Martha watched her aunt walk out of the barn, a sense of despair washed over her. Would Aunt Rosemary be back tomorrow so they could see the sheriff together? Or would she be on the next plane headed for home?
That man was no help at all,” Rosemary mumbled as she and Martha left the sheriff’s office the following day. “All we got for our troubles was the scent of smoke from his clothes.” She flapped her hand in front of her face. “Sheriff Osborn must be a chain smoker.”
Martha shrugged. “He did say he’s been patrolling our area whenever he can. I guess that’s something to feel good about.”
“Didn’t you get the feeling that he’s not very interested in finding out who’s behind the attacks on your family?”
Martha halted on the sidewalk and turned to face Rosemary. “What makes you think that?”
“He hasn’t found any suspects—not even for the accident that killed your brother-in-law.” Rosemary gritted her teeth. “Wouldn’t you think the sheriff would have investigated that incident thoroughly?”
“He said he did the best he could with the little bit of information he was given.”
“Puh!” Rosemary shook her head. “Did he try to gather evidence?”
“I don’t know. He questioned Ruth about what she saw that night, and she told him she’d seen a truck but couldn’t see the license plate and wasn’t sure of the color of the vehicle because it was dark and snowing.”
“Did he question the neighbors—someone who might have seen the vehicle?”
“No houses are in the area where they were hit. And no other cars on the road, I guess.”
“Hmm. . .”
“The other problem the sheriff mentioned is the fact that except for the buggy accident, he usually hasn’t heard about the attacks until several days later.” Martha frowned. “Dad didn’t like it when Sheriff Osborn showed up at his woodworking shop after one of the attacks and told him that he’d heard what had happened.”
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