A Sister's Test

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  “Then in time, she’ll heal.”

  “I suppose, but Ruth’s been through enough already. I hate to see her go through more.” Grace grunted. “Now Mom’s busy caring for Ruth when she can barely take care of herself.” She grimaced. “Even though there haven’t been any more attacks since the horse and chicken incident, Mom’s been so naerfich. It’s hard not to worry or blame myself because—”

  “Here you go again, feeling guilty because you think Gary Walker’s the one behind the attacks and you’re convinced he’s trying to get even with you for something that happened over six years ago.” Cleon shook his head. “It could be anyone, Grace. No one but the attacker is to blame.” He touched her hand. “Let’s pray,” he suggested, “and then we can talk while we eat if you have more to say on the subject.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  They bowed their heads, and Grace thanked God that things were better between Cleon and Anna. Then she petitioned the Lord to calm her mother’s fears, heal Ruth’s back, and protect her family from further attacks.

  Ruth, where are you going?” Mom asked as Ruth plucked her black outer bonnet off the wall peg and slipped it over her white kapp. “Since Martha’s gone to town to do some shopping, I thought the two of us could get a little sewing done on this rainy Saturday morning.”

  “Some other time, Mom. Right now, I’m going over to Abe’s,” Ruth replied.

  Mom’s eyebrows shot up. “To work?”

  “Not today, but I’m hoping I’ll be able to start on Monday morning.”

  Mom scurried across the room. “Oh, Ruth, it’s only been a few weeks since you hurt your back. Do you think you’re ready to return to work so soon?”

  Ruth opened her mouth to reply, but Mom rushed on. “Fixing meals for Abe’s family is one thing, but doing housework is quite another. If you bend over wrong or pick up something too heavy, you could reinjure your back.”

  “I’ll be careful, Mom. If there’s something heavy that needs to be picked up, I’ll leave it until Abe or Ivan can take care of it.”

  “Speaking of Ivan,” Mom said, “I was talking to Irene the other day, and she mentioned that Ivan’s been seeing Amanda Miller as of late.”

  “Is that so?”

  Mom nodded. “Irene said she’d been hoping you and Ivan might hit it off and then she’d have two of my girls for daughters-in-law.”

  Ruth shook her head. “I would never consider marrying Ivan, even if he was interested in me in a romantic sort of way.”

  “You don’t care for Ivan?”

  “He’s a nice man, but I’m not attracted to him. Besides, I couldn’t allow myself to become romantically involved with any young man.”

  “Why not? Is it because you’re still pining for Martin?”

  “I do miss him, and I guess I always will, but if I were to find love again, it couldn’t be with a younger man.”

  Mom raised her eyebrows. “I’m verhuddelt.”

  “It’s not confusing, Mom. As I’m sure you must know, most young men want to raise a family when they get married. I can’t have any children, so I wouldn’t make a good wife for a young man.”

  Mom released a sigh. “Oh, Ruth, I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

  “Why not? It’s true.”

  “If a man really loves a woman, it shouldn’t matter whether or not she can give him kinner.”

  Ruth slipped into her sweater. “It doesn’t make any difference, because I have no interest in marrying Ivan.” It’s Abe I want to marry, she added mentally. But he doesn’t want me.

  Mom pulled Ruth into her arms and gave her a hug. “Tell Abe I said hello and that we’ll have him and the kinner over for supper sometime soon.”

  “I will. See you later, Mom.”

  Martha had just left the market in Berlin and was about to load her purchases into the back of her buggy when someone touched her shoulder.

  She whirled around and was surprised to see Luke behind her. “Ach, you scared me!”

  “Sorry.” He brushed back his hair from his forehead and offered her an impish grin.

  “W–were you shopping in the store?” Martha stammered. She didn’t know why she always felt so flustered whenever Luke was around.

  “I was, but we must have missed seeing each other.” Luke reached into Martha’s shopping cart and lifted the bag of dog food as if it were a feather. “Better let me help you with that.”

  “Danki. It was kind of heavy when I pulled it off the grocery shelf.”

  Luke placed the dog food into the back of her wagon, and she put the paper sacks inside.

  “Have you had lunch?” he asked after she’d secured the buggy flap.

  “Not yet.”

  “How’d you like to share a pizza with me at Outback Pizzeria?”

  Martha contemplated Luke’s offer. She was a little worried that someone might see her with him and tell her father, but her desire to spend time with Luke finally won out. “Jah, I would enjoy some pizza.”

  “Should we take separate buggies, or would you like to ride with me and then pick up your buggy after we’re done?”

  “Guess I’d better take my own buggy since it’s got stuff in it that I don’t want stolen.” Truth be told, Martha was more concerned about someone seeing her riding in Luke’s buggy than she was about someone stealing her purchases. If anyone she knew spotted her having lunch with Luke, they might think the two of them had arrived at the pizzeria at the same time and decided to share a table. But if she and Luke were seen riding in the same buggy, folks could get the impression that they were a courting couple.

  “Okay. I’ll see you at the pizzeria in a few minutes.” Luke offered Martha another heart-melting smile and sprinted across the parking lot to his rig.

  With a feeling of anticipation, Martha unhitched her horse and climbed into her own buggy.

  When she arrived at the pizzeria, Luke was already there, sitting at a table near the back of the room. He waved, and she hurried over to join him.

  “I ordered a plain cheese pizza and a couple of root beers,” he said. “I didn’t know what kind of meat you liked, so figured I couldn’t go wrong with cheese.”

  She smiled as she took a seat opposite him. “Cheese is fine with me.”

  “So how are things going at your place?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

  “Okay. Ruth’s back is doing better now. I think she’ll probably return to work for Abe soon.”

  “I knew she was missing from church on the last Sunday we had preaching, but I didn’t know there was anything wrong with her back.” Luke frowned. “Is it serious?”

  Martha shook her head. “I don’t think so. The chiropractor said it was just a pulled muscle. After several treatments and bed rest, she’s finally doing better.”

  “That’s good to hear. My daed’s back has gone out on him a time or two, and he was always in a lot of pain.”

  Martha took a sip of root beer. “This is good but not nearly as tasty as the homemade kind my daed makes.”

  Luke stared at Martha with a peculiar expression, making her squirm.

  “What’s wrong? Have I got root beer foam on my naas?”

  He grinned. “Your nose looks just fine.”

  She smiled in response.

  “What else is new at your place? Have there been more attacks?”

  “Not for several weeks. Did you hear about that last one?”

  He shook his head. “What happened?”

  “It was the day of Willis Wengerd’s funeral. When we arrived home, we discovered that someone had let our horses out of the corral.”

  “Maybe the gate wasn’t latched, and the horses got out themselves.”

  “We thought that at first, but there were dead chickens all over our front yard.” She grunted. “It was obvious that someone had come onto our property while we were at the funeral.”

  Luke squinted his dark eyes. “Got any idea who mi
ght have done it?”

  She shrugged. “Probably the same person who’s done all the other horrible things at our place.”

  “Did you find any clues or evidence?”

  “No.” Martha sighed. “Bishop King came by the other day to talk to Dad about the problem. They both think that whoever’s doing these things is either trying to get even with someone in the family or wants to take our property and is hoping to scare us off.”

  “Why would anyone want your property?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “So what’s gonna be done about the situation?”

  “As far as I know, nothing. Dad thinks if we just keep trusting the Lord, eventually the attacks will stop.” Martha grimaced. “I have to wonder if God doesn’t expect us to do something about our problems, not just sit around and wait for Him to do everything for us.”

  Luke studied her intently. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been thinking about this for quite a spell. I’ve come to the conclusion that if there’s another attack, it’ll be time for me to take action.”

  “Take action?”

  She nodded. “I plan to start investigating things and see if I can figure out who’s behind the attacks.”

  Luke’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “That’s not a good idea, Martha. It’s not a good idea at all.”

  “Why not?”

  Luke leveled her with a piercing look that went straight to her heart. “Playing detective could be dangerous. You shouldn’t even be considering such a thing.”

  “Oh, but I—”

  “Not only could it be dangerous, but if your daed found out what you were up to, I’m sure you’d be in trouble with him. He’s not the easiest man to deal with, you know.” Luke grunted. “When that man sets his mind one way, there’s no convincing him otherwise. I know that better than anyone.”

  She took another sip of root beer. “I’ll worry about my daed’s reactions to me playing detective when the time comes.”

  Abe headed to the barn to get some cardboard boxes he’d stored in an empty horse stall and spotted Willis’s little red wagon. He remembered how Josh had broken it the day before Willis drowned. Abe had promised Willis that he would fix the wagon as soon as his leg healed and he found the time. There was no point fixing it now. Willis was gone, and it was Gideon’s fault.

  Abe grunted as he bent over and grabbed the boxes. For the past several weeks, he’d only been going through the motions of living. His leg had finally healed and he could get around on it fairly well, but the pain that pricked his heart daily was worse than any physical hurt he’d ever endured. Not only did he miss Willis, but he missed Ruth. A few days ago, he’d talked to Roman and heard that Ruth’s back was doing better. But she hadn’t returned to work, and he wondered if she might be staying away on purpose. Since Abe had turned down Ruth’s suggestion that they marry, he wondered if she’d decided that he and his brood didn’t need her anymore.

  I was stupid for saying no, he berated himself. I love her, and even if she doesn’t love me, at least I could have given her my name and the opportunity to be a mudder to my kinner.

  Abe started out of the stall but halted when he heard whimpering. He tipped his head and listened. It sounded as though someone was crying, and it seemed to be coming from the other side of the barn.

  He placed the boxes on the floor and started in that direction. As he neared a stack of baled hay, he saw Gideon sitting on the floor, head bent and shoulders shaking.

  Abe rushed forward. “Son, what’s wrong? Have you been hurt?”

  Gideon looked up, his eyes swimming with tears. “It’s not me who’s been hurt, Papa. It’s you. I hurt you real bad when I let Willis die. I–I’m awful sorry. I miss my bruder, too.” He hiccupped on a sob. “I don’t deserve to be called your son anymore. I—hic—should’ve been the one to die, not Willis.”

  Abe let Gideon’s words sink into his brain. Losing Alma had hurt tremendously, but he’d come to grips with her death because it was an accident. But Willis’s death could have been prevented if Gideon had been watching the boy as he’d been told to do. For the last several weeks, Abe had been carrying around unresolved anger and resentment toward Gideon, toward himself, and toward God for allowing Willis’s death to happen. But at what cost? Was it fair to allow Gideon, who was still just a boy, to go on blaming himself for his brother’s death?

  Abe thought about Willis’s wagon again and how the child had forgiven Josh for breaking it. “It’s okay,” Willis had said to his brother. “If Jesus could forgive those who put Him on the cross, I oughta be able to forgive my own bruder.”

  Abe reflected on Matthew 6:14: “For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.” Gideon was Abe’s son, not some man who had trespassed against him. How could he have shut the boy out and made him feel responsible for his brother’s death?

  Abe swallowed and nearly choked on the sob that tore from his throat. He had lost one son; he couldn’t risk losing another. Falling to his knees beside Gideon, he pulled the boy into his arms. “I forgive you, son, but I need you to forgive me, as well. I shouldn’t have blamed you for Willis’s death. It was an accident and might have happened even if you had been right there with him. Will you accept my apology?”

  “Jah,” Gideon said through his tears. “And I promise to be the best boy I can be—and never let you down again.”

  “I don’t expect you to be perfect.” Abe wiped the tears from Gideon’s face. “Only God is perfect. We just need to do the best we can. I know when you ran into the woods after Josh that you didn’t expect Willis to fall in the pond while you were gone.”

  “No, I surely didn’t.” Gideon sniffed deeply. “If there was any way I could bring him back, I would.”

  “I know.” Abe rocked Gideon back and forth in his arms the way he had when the boy was a baby. “Dear God,” he prayed aloud, “forgive me for the sin of unforgiveness.”

  When Ruth stepped into the barn and heard Abe’s voice, she halted. She had stopped at the harness shop to see him, but Ivan had told her that Abe had come to the barn to get some boxes. She’d never expected to see him kneeling on the floor, holding Gideon in his arms and praying out loud. Abe was asking God to forgive his sin of unforgiveness.

  I’ve never really done that, Ruth thought regretfully. Ever since Martin died, I’ve been struggling to forgive the one who rammed our buggy off the road. Despite my busyness and determination to do something useful with my life, my broken heart has never completely healed.

  Ruth trembled as a sense of shame welled in her soul. She knew it was a sin to harbor anger and resentment toward the person who had caused Martin’s death, even though she wasn’t sure who that person was and couldn’t forgive him to his face.

  She leaned against one of the wooden beams and closed her eyes. “Dear Lord, forgive my sin of unforgiveness and heal the hurt in my heart.”

  “Ruth, is that you?”

  Ruth’s eyes snapped open as the heat of embarrassment flooded her cheeks. She moved over to the bales of hay where Abe knelt beside his son. “Jah, it’s me. I—I came over to let you know my back’s doing better and that I can start working for you again on Monday.” She shifted from one foot to the other, feeling suddenly shy and unsure of herself. “That is—if you still want me to come back.”

  Abe stood, pulling Gideon to his feet. “Son, why don’t you run into the house and see if Marlene has lunch ready? I’m going to stay out here and talk to Ruth awhile.”

  Gideon looked at Ruth, then back at his father. “Jah, okay.” He gave Abe a hug and darted out of the barn wearing a smile on his tearstained face.

  “Things are better between me and my boy,” Abe said.

  “I’m pleased to hear it.”

  He motioned to a bale of hay. “Would you like to sit down?”

  She nodded and started to take a seat, but trip
ped on her shoelace and fell into Abe’s lap.

  He looked stunned.

  “Ach, I’m so sorry.” She scooted away and lowered herself to the bale of hay, feeling another blush warm her cheeks.

  “No harm done,” he mumbled.

  “I. . .uh. . .heard part of your conversation—the one you were having with God.”

  “Did you now?” Abe asked, taking a seat beside her. He wore a silly grin on his face, and she couldn’t figure out why.

  “The words you said made me realize that I needed to find forgiveness in my heart toward the one who killed Martin.”

  “I’m glad.” His expression turned serious. “One can’t find joy and a sense of purpose if their heart is full of anger and bitterness.”

  “I know. Now that I’ve confessed my sin to God, I feel clean inside.”

  “Same here.”

  “Abe, there’s something else I wanted to share with you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I was reading my Bible the other day, and I came upon Job 23:10. It says, ‘But he knoweth the way that I take: when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.’ ”

  Abe sat several seconds, staring at his hands. Finally, he lifted his head and looked at Ruth. “I believe that verse applies to both of us.”

  “I think so, too. That’s why I felt the need to share it with you. After reading it, I was filled with a sense of hope that despite the trials and testing I’ve been through, God will use it for His good.” She smiled. “Someday, I hope to come forth as gold.”

  He nodded. “It’s good when we let God’s Word speak to us, jah?”

  “Jah.”

  Abe moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Uh. . .Ruth. . .I have something I need to say to you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t want you to come back to work for me as my maad.”

  “You—you don’t?”

  He shook his head.

  “Is it because Marlene’s a better maid than me?”

  “She’s done the best job she can, but she’s not a better maid.” He fingered the end of his curly red beard. “Nor would she make me a good wife.”