A Mother's Gift

by Charlotte Hubbard

  “Too much table talk!” Phil interrupted as he grabbed Adeline’s hand. “Get your little backside down there and I’ll show you how to ram the cue stick so all the balls fly into pockets on your first shot.”

  Alice didn’t mention that he’d chosen the wrong twin, because the bleary expression on Dexter’s face told her that he, too, was confused about their identity. She and Adeline had traded places once without telling the guys—but Phil had immediately noticed a difference in the way Adeline kissed him.

  Let’s hope it doesn’t get as far as kissing today, she thought, desperately wondering how to derail the guys’ plans. It made her queasy to watch Phil press her sister over the end of the pool table, dwarfing her as he laid his arms over hers to guide the first shot.

  When the front door opened, Alice wanted to cry out in relief—except Dat and Uncle Jeremiah were both gazing purposefully at her, shaking their heads slightly. They paused in the doorway to take in the scene.

  “Amish farmer dudes?” Dexter called out with a drunken laugh. “Hey, won’t you guys go to hell for being in a pool hall? We’re drinking and smoking and carrying on here! We’re baaad!”

  From beneath Phil’s bulk, Adeline caught Alice’s eye while Dex heckled Dat and his brother. Alice quickly pressed a finger to her lips—and then pretended she had no idea who the two bearded men in black broad-brimmed hats and barn jackets could be.

  Just one more favor, God, Alice prayed earnestly. Please let Phil and Dexter be too drunk to realize why two Amish men have just shown up—and who they are.

  Chapter 22

  It took all of Jude’s strength to keep his fists at his sides. The sight of an unkempt—and obviously drunk—blond fellow pinning his daughter to the pool table in a very suggestive position was enough to make him punch first and think later. When Jeremiah tweaked his coat sleeve, Jude inhaled the smoky air to settle his nerves. He reminded himself to follow the game plan he and his brother had formulated as they’d ridden here in the back of the sheriff’s cruiser, because it was the best way to insure that his girls stayed safe—and that he and Jeremiah did nothing they’d have to confess at church.

  The smell of stale beer, cigarettes, and old walls that reeked of grease took him back to his rumspringa. Nothing’s changed, Jude noted as he quickly glanced around. You can pull this off if Rick doesn’t recognize you—and if the girls don’t give you away. Stick with the strategy Jeremiah suggested until Sheriff Banks comes inside.

  Jeremiah assessed the two men with Alice and Adeline and went to the wall to choose a cue stick. “I could use a little quick cash,” he said above the wail of the jukebox. “What say you fellows team up and play me and my friend a little eight ball? Shall we go for fifty dollars a game?”

  “Or shall we go for a hundred?” Jude picked out a cue stick and immediately dropped it, stalling so the sheriff would have time to search the gray pickup parked out front. He flashed a wide smile at the two young men. “Unless maybe you guys can’t scratch up fifty bucks apiece.”

  “This should be good for a laugh,” the blond jeered as he straightened to his full height and reached into his jeans pocket.

  “Easiest fifty bucks I’ll ever make,” the other guy said with a drunken chuckle. He handed a fistful of uncounted bills to Adeline. “You girls can count the money and hold on to it, to keep everything fair and square.”

  “Hey, and bring our beer over to this table,” the blond ordered Alice. “This won’t take long, sugar pie, and then we’ll be on our way to play a real game.”

  Once again Jude seethed, but the scenario was going just the way they’d hoped. His daughters were playing along, taking the money from the four of them and then sitting down at the table, out of harm’s way.

  Jeremiah took his time arranging the stripes and solids inside the wooden triangle, as though he wasn’t sure how to rack the balls properly. “You guys might be better players than we are,” he remarked apologetically, “so how about if we go first?”

  “So we’ll at least get a turn,” Jude put in as he ambled to the opposite end of the pool table. As he chalked the end of his stick, he hoped his billiard skills would come back to him—just as he was counting on Sheriff Banks to come inside before the two English fellows realized they were being hustled.

  Drew and Phil chortled as though Jeremiah’s suggestion struck them as hilarious. “Sure, why not?” the shorter one replied.

  “Fine by me,” the burly blond said as he chose a different cue stick from the rack on the wall. “But you know, we play nearly every day, so if you guys’re out to make a little money, maybe you should—”

  “Shut up and let him take his shot,” his friend snapped. “This game was their idea, after all. Easy come, easy go.”

  Jude relaxed, leaning over the end of the table with his cue stick. As he’d hoped, these young men were full of themselves and skunk drunk. He focused on the tight triangle of colored balls and shot hard and clean, biting back a grin when the balls scattered all over the table.

  “Guess we’ll take the stripes,” Jeremiah said as two striped balls fell into pockets. He easily sent a third ball into the center pocket as Jude studied the table and positioned himself to continue their turn.

  Jeremiah turned to the tall blond fellow, who frowned at the direction the game was taking. “How many guys does it take to install the second lightbulb this swag lamp is supposed to have?” he teased, tapping the dust-encrusted beer advertisement with his cue stick.

  Phil and Dexter appeared confused by this old joke. It was one of Jeremiah’s diversionary tactics from when he and Jude were in their rumspringa—because even back in those days, none of the fixtures had been fully lit. The blond went over to sip his beer while the shorter guy peered up into the light fixture with a baffled expression.

  “We’ll probably never know,” Jude responded in a conspiratorial tone. “Something tells me they don’t keep any spare lightbulbs in this joint.”

  “Huh,” the fellow grunted. He eagerly accepted the mug his blond buddy brought over and swilled about half of the beer in it.

  Jude drove the white cue ball firmly against the table edge at an angle to knock another striped ball into a corner pocket. As his brother chose his next shot, Jude glanced at Alice and Adeline, who sat wide-eyed and silent. In their jeans, makeup, and dangly earrings, with their hair cascading over their shoulders and beer mugs in front of them, they appeared heartbreakingly English. At least the colorful jackets Lenore had made them covered their upper bodies, and they weren’t smoking or drinking or glaring at him for coming to the pool hall. Jude couldn’t be completely angry with his girls because they’d come here to right a wrong on Leah’s behalf, so when they glanced at him, he winked.

  “That’s it for the stripes,” Jeremiah announced when he’d taken his shot. “Go for the solids, little brother.”

  “Now just a freakin’ minute,” the blond protested over the blare of the jukebox. “I thought you two said—”

  “In eight ball, our team gets to keep shooting until one of us misses a shot,” Jeremiah pointed out firmly. “We’re playing this fair and square, boys. You said we could go first.”

  Jude took great satisfaction in driving a blue ball the full length of the table into a corner pocket without the cue ball following it. As he stepped back to allow Jeremiah room for his turn, he glanced through the smudged front window. He was relieved to see a barrel-shaped man in a brown uniform approaching the door.

  “Why did the chicken cross the road?” Jude asked his opponents, barely able to control his temper. What did his daughters find so alluring about these two belligerent, rude young men?

  “To get to the other side,” the shorter guy jeered.

  “Nope,” Jude said. “To get away from a couple of irresponsible guys with a gun.”

  Suspicion flared in the blond’s eyes. When the sheriff stepped inside, both the young men sobered up fast. Neither of them spoke.

  Clyde Banks assessed the situ
ation and took his time approaching the table where the four of them were playing. He planted himself in front of the blond. “Phil Hainey, you’re under arrest,” he announced beneath the blare of the jukebox. “You have the right to remain silent—”

  “And what’s this about?” Phil demanded hotly. “I’ve been here all morning—and I’ve got all these witnesses—”

  “Your truck was identified racing away from the Shetler place after you shot most of their cows and calves,” the sheriff began. “When I received that call, I was just down the road from the Shetlers’, checking out a call about a horse you shot—”

  “You can’t prove any of that!” Phil’s buddy piped up.

  Sheriff Banks shook his head in disgust. “The bullets that killed the cattle came from the rifle in the back of the pickup you fellows parked out front.”

  “You had no right to search my truck!” Phil shouted.

  The sheriff calmly pulled a folded paper from his pocket. “Here’s my search warrant, gentlemen,” he said. “I found exactly what I was looking for—and it’s not as though I haven’t cited both of you for various offenses before,” he added with a wry smile. “So again, you have the right to remain silent—”

  The jukebox was suddenly shut off and Rick came out from behind the bar. “Hey, what’s going on here?” he demanded as he crossed the room. “I don’t take kindly to you harassing my customers, Sheriff. Everybody here’s minding their own business, as usual, so—”

  “Including these two young ladies?” Sheriff Banks interrupted, nodding toward Alice and Adeline. “I’ve warned you before about serving minors, Mr. Welch, and I’ve nailed you square-on today because these girls are only sixteen. Shall I shut your place down right now, or will you allow me to proceed with arresting Mr. Hainey and Mr. Stockman for shooting eight cows at point-blank range?”

  The place got so quiet that Jude could hear the hum of the refrigerators behind the bar. All eyes were on the sheriff. Jude stepped back to stand with Jeremiah, behind the twins. Alice and Adeline had stiffened in their chairs, looking very scared.

  Phil glared at the girls. “Sixteen? They told us they were nineteen, so—”

  “You’ve got nothing on me,” Dexter blurted out belligerently. “I was just along for the ride.”

  “Which tells me that one of you was probably driving the truck while the other fired the gun out the window,” Sheriff Banks said in a voice edged with impatience. “That makes one of you the cold-blooded killer of those cows and the other one an accessory—and I’m betting you’d both flunk a Breathalyzer test, am I right? Before you answer that or say anything else, maybe you should come to my office and call your lawyer.”

  Phil and Dexter exchanged an angry glance, but before they could say anything more, the sheriff unhooked a set of handcuffs from his belt.

  “You know the drill, gentlemen. One arm apiece, and you’ll walk outside to my car together in an orderly fashion,” Banks said in a no-nonsense voice. “Resisting arrest would just be one more offense to pile onto the others I’m going to write you up for, understand me?”

  After a moment Phil stuck out his arm. He glowered at the twins and then focused on Jude and Jeremiah. “This was a setup,” he muttered. “I want my money back from you—you con artists who came in here pretending to be Amish guys, playing us for suckers—”

  Sheriff Banks shook his head as he fastened a metal cuff on each young man’s arm. “Nope, this is none other than Bishop Jeremiah Shetler and his brother—whose cattle you shot,” he added. “Ordinarily, Plain folks don’t ask me to intervene in their affairs, but you non-Amish gentlemen should be held accountable for the crimes you’ve committed—the loss of income you’ve caused the Shetler family.”

  When Phil appeared ready to smart off again, stalwart Sheriff Banks stood within inches of the belligerent younger man. “I intend to see you punished to the full extent the law allows for this escapade, Hainey,” he muttered. “Whatever you lost to the Shetler brothers in your pool game is a down payment for the damage you’ve done, the way I see it. Shall we go?” he demanded. “Or do we discuss the fact that your underage girlfriends have beer mugs in front of them?”

  Jude’s heart was hammering as he stepped toward the young men who were preceding Sheriff Banks toward the door. He pulled the cell phone from his pocket and thrust it toward them. “I believe this is yours,” he said tersely. “Don’t come around my daughters again, got it?”

  Phil snatched the phone, glaring over at the twins. “Fat chance,” he muttered.

  “More trouble than they’re worth, and liars, too,” Dexter groused.

  The sheriff lowered his voice. “Do you want to press charges, Mr. Shetler? No doubt in my mind they started this whole ball rolling—contributing to the delinquency of minors might be just the tip of the iceberg.”

  Sickening visions of Phil and Dexter with his daughters whirled in Jude’s mind. “What else did you do to them—besides defiling them with those tattoos?” he demanded. “If you—”

  Phil’s face turned the color of raw steak. “Huh! You can’t nail us for getting any action, because—”

  “We haven’t touched them!” Dexter cried out. “Have we, girls?”

  Jeremiah grasped Jude’s shoulder before the fracas intensified—not that Jude had the heart to hear his daughters admit to intimate involvement with these louts. “We’ll be discussing this with Alice and Adeline at home,” the bishop insisted in a low voice. “Right now, we just want to get them out of here.”

  Jude watched Sheriff Banks steer the two young men outside. He—along with Rick and several curious customers—watched through the windows until the young men were in the cruiser and the sheriff had closed its doors. At the far edge of the parking lot, a horse-drawn rig sat waiting.

  Bless her, Leah came for us, Jude thought as he stepped away from the window.

  “So you Shetlers have returned like a couple of bad Amish pennies, eh?” Rick asked tersely. “What am I supposed to do if Banks shuts me down because your daughters are underage—”

  “That’s between you and the sheriff and those two guys he arrested,” Jeremiah replied quickly. “Had you asked for the girls’ driver’s licenses, you’d have realized they didn’t belong here. You won’t be seeing them again.”

  “You didn’t ask to see our licenses back in the day, either,” Jude pointed out.

  Rick frowned as he thought for a moment. “Amish girls wouldn’t have driver’s licenses—”

  “Aha,” Jude put in with a purposeful smile. “Seems a spare lightbulb just came on, jah?” He looked over at the twins, gesturing toward the door. “Let’s go home. I’ve had all I can stand of this place.”

  Chapter 23

  After the short, strained buggy ride to the farm, punctuated by the twins’ sniffles and Stevie’s curious questions, Leah dreaded the conversation that was going to be held at the kitchen table. Jeremiah and Jude had stewed the whole way home, keeping the details from the pool hall under their broad-brimmed hats while Stevie was present.

  “Sweetie, why don’t you go play with the goats and check on Maisie and the calves,” Leah suggested as the rig approached the stable. “I’ll call you when it’s time for dinner.”

  “But I wanna hear about—”

  “Son, you’re going outside,” Jude said gruffly. “Do as your mamm has told you. And I want you girls to change into proper attire before coming to the kitchen to discuss what your uncle and I witnessed today.”

  With a heavy sigh, Stevie hopped out of the rig and started toward the barns. Alice and Adeline hurried toward the house, and by the time Leah had reached the kitchen, she could hear them upstairs in their room. She filled the percolator and set it on the stove to boil, preparing for what might be a long afternoon.

  “So how did it go?” she asked when Jude and his brother had settled at the table.

  Jeremiah smiled half-heartedly. “In some ways it was like old times, being at that smoky, greasy hole in th
e wall—with the same guy who ran the place when we were kids,” he replied. “But thinking about Alice and Adeline being there—”

  “With two fellows in their late twenties who were rude and drunk and trying to deny any involvement in shooting your cattle,” Jude put in tersely.

  “—well, it was a situation I hope I never have to repeat,” Jeremiah finished. “Our plan to keep Phil and Dexter occupied at the pool table until the sheriff could find the gun worked as well as we’d hoped. I think Sheriff Banks will give those young men the what-for in ways we couldn’t accomplish ourselves. It was the right thing to do, calling him in to deal with English troublemakers.”

  “Did you hear him talking as if Dexter and Phil were constantly on the wrong side of the law?” Jude asked in exasperation. “I only had to spend thirty seconds in the same room with those two to wonder what on God’s gut earth Alice and Adeline ever liked about them. And why would the girls claim to be nineteen?”

  “And why didn’t Phil and Dexter figure out that they weren’t really that old?” Jeremiah pondered aloud.

  Focusing on Alice and Adeline as they came back downstairs into the front room, Leah sighed. They had changed into the royal blue cape dresses they’d worn early this morning, and their hair was once again coiled beneath their kapps, but the circles beneath their eyes were dark with wet mascara. “I suspect the girls wanted to seem older because Phil and Dexter flirted with them—made them feel special,” she speculated. “And by the same token, those fellows willingly overlooked the truth about girls who were so eager to spend time with them, and who didn’t make any demands or question their behavior.”

  Alice and Adeline entered the kitchen and slipped into their chairs at the table, appearing ready for a stern interrogation session. Leah’s heart went out to them, now that they were safe at home, but she knew to remain quiet while the men did the talking. She got out flour and the other ingredients to make biscuits for the midday meal, which would be served a lot later than usual.