by Marta Perry
“At least Mrs. Everly kept the quilts. Although...” Sarah stopped, thinking of the album quilt.
Becky was looking at her, eyebrows lifted. “What? Does she want to sell them?”
“No, at least I don’t believe so. But she had what I think was a very old album quilt that we weren’t able to find.”
“Maybe it will turn up,” Becky said comfortingly. She turned back to the patient brushing. “I’m supposed to do a patch for my cousin Ella’s wedding quilt, and I haven’t decided yet what design to use. Maybe I could look through some of the books you have about quilts?”
Sarah hadn’t realized Becky had noticed her small quilting library. “For sure. Anytime. You can take one home with you tonight, if you want.”
“Denke, Sarah. Ach, Lena, not so fast with the brush,” she said, turning her attention to her niece.
Lena put the brush down. “It’s too hard to stand in one place so long. Can’t I do something else?”
Lena’s energy always amused Sarah. She could never be content with an activity that required being still.
“Sure thing. Why don’t you help me with rearranging some of the fabric? I have to make room for some new fall prints that just came in.”
“I can do that.” Lena scurried around the table to her. “I’m strong enough to carry things.”
“I’m sure you are. Let’s start by unpacking the boxes in the back room.”
Lena, it seemed, liked to chatter while she worked. After she’d exclaimed over the various bolts emerging from the boxes, she went on to tell Sarah about her favorite calf, the cow that had tangled its tail in the fence, the field mouse she’d seen in the barn, and the new kittens she was sure the barn cat had hidden somewhere.
“I wish she’d let us see the babies,” Lena said wistfully. “Onkel Jonah says she doesn’t want us touching them while they’re so little, but I’d be careful.”
“I’m sure you would, but Onkel Jonah is right. Mother cats are like that. Sometime soon she’ll probably bring them out.”
“That’s what Onkel Jonah says.”
It sounded as if Onkel Jonah had a devoted little follower in Lena. “You have a gut onkel, ain’t so?”
The girl nodded, but a frown disturbed her usually merry face. “I wish he wouldn’t get mad at Grossdaadi. And now he’s mad at Daadi, too. I don’t see how anybody could be mad at Daadi.”
Obviously Daadi had first place, and Sarah was touched that such a small child could be sensitive to the currents among her elders. No doubt there were still issues over Jonah’s rumspringa behavior, but it surprised her that Aaron had become involved. He seemed to try so hard to bridge the gap between himself and his young brother.
“I’m sure they’ll make it up soon.” Should she mention Lena’s concern to Aaron? He probably would want to know, but given what had happened during their last conversation, she found herself shy of bringing it up.
By the time she and Lena carried the new bolts to the main room, Allison had returned, and she and Becky were having a lively conversation about plans for the quilt festival while they worked. Becky’s enthusiasm for all things quilting-related were obviously overcoming her usual reserve with strangers.
“It’s going to be a big success,” Sarah said when there was an opening in the chatter. “With what we raise, we can see to it that the firefighters have what they need.”
Becky grinned. “And besides, it’ll be fun.”
“Lots of work,” Allison reminded her.
“That’s what we call a work frolic,” Sarah pointed out. “We work and have fun doing it because we do it together.”
Almost before she knew it, the afternoon had slipped away. Everyone helped in closing down the shop for the night, the kinder as enthusiastic about that as they were about everything else. They were fine girls, and she thought again of what Aaron had said about folks thinking he ought to marry. Whatever anyone else might believe, he seemed to be coping very well in raising them without their mother.
When they’d finished harnessing Molly for the trip home, Sarah lifted the children into the buggy first. “Do you want to be behind the seat or squished onto the seat between me and Aunt Becky?” Her buggy wasn’t the family carriage, suitable for more than two or three.
Lena started to climb into the small space behind almost before she had the words out. “I’ll go back here.” She scrambled over the seat, heedless of her skirt flipping around her.
“I’ll sit between.” Anna settled snugly in the middle. “I like it here.”
Sarah exchanged an amused glance with Becky as they climbed up. The two girls were certain sure predictable. “Everyone ready? We’re off.” She set Molly moving with a soft click.
“I don’t like driving in town when there’s so much traffic,” Becky said as they trundled down the main street. “It makes me nervous.”
“Me, too,” Sarah confided. “When I first started coming into town to work every day, Daad drove me. But I knew it wasn’t right to take him away from his own chores, so I pushed myself to do it. Still, we turn off here on the back road, and then it’s not so bad.”
Sure enough, once they’d gotten a mile or two from town on the narrow blacktop that wound between farms, there was little enough traffic.
Becky relaxed the tense grip she’d had on the side rail. “Allison was telling me about searching for that album quilt that belongs to Mrs. Everly. Do you really think she can find it that way?”
“If anyone can locate it using a computer, I’d guess it would be Allison. That’s if it’s advertised online. We wouldn’t have a website if it weren’t for Allison’s insistence.”
“Lots of Amish businesses have them now,” Becky pointed out. “Daad doesn’t like them, or cell phones, either, but Aaron says folks can’t run a business without them these days.”
Sarah shot her an amused glance. “I suppose you have a cell phone?”
Becky nodded. “All the girls in my rumspringa groups do. I don’t call much, but we text each other about our plans.”
“Like what you’re going to wear to the next singing?” Sarah remembered the chatter she’d get into with her friends when the every-other-Sunday-evening event for teens was approaching.
“For sure.” Becky grinned.
“When I’m old enough for rumspringa, I’ll have a cell phone,” Anna said. “Won’t I, Aunt Becky?”
“Probably, but you have a while to wait for that.”
“It’s a long time.” Anna began counting on her fingers, presumably figuring out when she’d start her rumspringa.
“Just enjoy being the age you are,” Sarah said. “I remember how much fun I had then, playing with your daadi and the other neighbors. I’ll bet you do, too.”
“Especially our cousins.” Lena piped up from behind them. She wiggled, and Sarah felt her pressing against the back of the seat. “Look, that’s where the first fire was.” She pointed as the Everly property came into view.
No doubt Aaron was trying to protect his girls from fearing the arsonist, but children seemed to find out everything, no matter how careful the grown-ups were.
“That’s where it was, all right.” Sarah kept Molly moving at a sharp pace. The mare still showed some reluctance when they passed the property.
“Why doesn’t anyone farm there?” Anna asked, turning to glance in the direction of the remains of the barn.
“Well, it belongs to an Englisch lady who lives in town, and I guess—”
Sarah lost the train of thought when Molly tossed her head, setting the harness jingling.
“Komm, now,” Sarah chided the mare. “You go this way every morning and afternoon, ja?”
But Molly didn’t settle. Her pace slowed. Just as Sarah lifted the lines to snap them, there was a loud cracking noise. The buggy lurch
ed. Before Sarah could do more than drop the lines to grab a child in each arm, it tilted, flinging them out.
Sarah hit the ground, breath knocked out of her, struggling to make sense... But the buggy was overturning, coming at them; they’d be crushed... She threw herself over the children just as the seat struck her back, knocking her senseless.
* * *
AARON SENT HIS buggy rocketing down the road at a reckless pace. This once, he’d like to have a car to whisk him to the scene. Ben Stoltzfus had assured him that everyone was all right, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until he held his two girls in his arms again.
He shouldn’t have left them, shouldn’t have relied on someone else to bring them home—
Stoppe, he ordered himself. This was foolishness. Sarah was a careful driver, and no one could control an accident. He must not blame her, but they were his kinder...
Thank the gut Lord he’d been where he could hear the phone ringing in the shanty. Ordinarily he might not have checked it until later. But that was foolish, as well. Ben said if he hadn’t reached him right away he’d have sent one of his boys riding bareback to fetch him. The children were fine, Becky was fine and Sarah was fine. They were all just shaken and upset, with some bumps and bruises.
He turned into the lane at the Stoltzfus farm, where the new barn stood as a testament to Amish resilience. Even before the buggy came to a complete stop he’d jumped out, raced to the kitchen door and bolted inside without knocking.
“Daadi!” Lena flung herself into his arms, closely followed by Anna.
He held them tight against him, his heart still pounding. “You’re all right? Do you hurt anyplace?”
Anna clung, her face pressed against his neck, but Lena wiggled free. “I scraped my knee, look.” She pulled up her dirtied dress to show him.
He looked at it gravely. It had already been cleaned up, and someone, probably Miriam Stoltzfus, had spread ointment over it. “I see. I bet you were a brave girl when it was cleaned up.”
“I was,” she said, nodding firmly. “But I got my dress dirty when Sarah squished me.”
“Sarah squished you to protect you from the buggy falling on you,” Becky said, her voice shaking. “You should be grateful, not worrying about a dirty dress.”
“But I am,” Lena protested. “And I was just saying, that’s all.”
“Sarah and Aunt Becky took care of us when the buggy tipped over.” Anna emerged from his neck, wiping away tears. “And I helped Sarah lead Molly out of the shafts.”
“You were both very good and very sensible,” Sarah said.
For the first time he had eyes for someone beside his kinder. Becky looked pale and a little disheveled, but she managed a smile.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I fell down into the ditch. It was Sarah who had the worst of it. The buggy hit her.”
He set Anna and Lena gently away from him and went to kneel next to the chair where Sarah sat. “Is that true? You should see a doctor. We should call the paramedics.”
“I already told her that, but it was no use,” Miriam said, handing what was probably a cold compress to Sarah.
“I don’t need a doctor.” Sarah’s voice was firm, belying her pallor. “It wasn’t that bad.”
His gaze sought out Miriam’s questioningly, and she smiled slightly, nodding. “She’ll have a nasty bruise on her back where the railing hit her, and a headache, that’s certain sure. But otherwise, they all came out of it well. Ben says the buggy is going to take some fixing. He’s out there now with the boys.”
“How did it happen?” He looked from Sarah to his sister, but it was Sarah who answered.
“The wheel came off. I’ve never had such a thing happen in my life.” For an instant her voice wavered. “But Molly was very sensible. She must have figured out something was wrong, and she was nearly stopped before it fell clear off.”
A good thing, he thought, but didn’t say. If the wheel had come off at full speed, it could have been far, far worse. He frowned.
“I don’t understand. What would make the wheel come off? Did you see anything? Notice anything wrong at all?”
Sarah’s lips trembled at the questions, and he wished them unsaid. What was he doing, bombarding her with questions when she had just come through such an ordeal?
“Sarah can’t tell you anything else,” Miriam said briskly. “Now, I just made hot chocolate for the little ones and some good sweet tea for Sarah and Becky. If you want to be useful, you can go join Ben and see for yourself.”
Miriam had a habit of telling folks what to do, not unusual in the mother of a large family. And at the moment he deserved the implied scolding.
“You’re right,” he said, standing. “You girls sit down and have your treat. I’ll be back in a few minutes, ain’t so? Then we’ll go home.”
He gave Sarah what he hoped was a reassuring glance, and headed out.
It wasn’t hard to find the wreckage. It was just around the next bend in the road, in front of the Everly property. Ben stood surveying the overturned buggy, while two of his sons held the mare on a lead line in the tall grass. She was munching away normally enough, seeming unaffected by the experience.
Ben nodded to him when he jumped down. “Nasty to see, ain’t so?”
True enough. He’d seen buggies that had been involved in accidents before, and it always turned his stomach. Still, those had been encounters with cars.
“It is. How’s the mare?”
“I checked her over pretty thoroughly, and she seems fine. Might be a little stiff tomorrow. It was the passengers who got the worst of this deal.”
Ben was a good man with livestock. If he said Molly was fine, she was.
“She deserves an extra handful of oats tonight, that’s certain sure,” Aaron said. “According to Sarah, she sensed something was wrong and stopped. Probably saved them from being hurt a lot worse.”
“Animals have a lot of sense sometimes,” Ben said. “But look at this buggy. The wheel was clear over across the road. My boys brought it back. It must have really gone spinning. Wouldn’t have expected it to go that far.”
Aaron nodded, squatting next to the axle that dug into the ground. “Especially with the buggy nearly stopped when it came free.”
Ben squatted next to him. “I’d be suspicious the buggy hadn’t been maintained right if it didn’t belong to Eli Bitler. But Eli’s right handy with his equipment, and he’s particular. He wouldn’t let Sarah be driving a buggy that he wasn’t sure was safe.”
Running his hand along the axle, Aaron puzzled over it. There weren’t that many things that could cause a wheel to come off. A buggy was a pretty straightforward vehicle, when you came right down to it. Not like a car, where a thousand and one things could go wrong.
“Have you taken a look at the wheel?” he asked.
Ben shook his head, getting up. “Best do that now. It’s over here.” He led the way to the grassy bank where the wheel rested.
Aaron started to reach for the wheel and stopped, noticing a bit farther on the scuffed earth where the passengers had probably landed, with the buggy tilting over them. His stomach twisted. If Anna and Lena had been hit by it... But they hadn’t. Apparently Sarah had thrown herself over them, bearing the brunt of the blow herself.
“Nothing here that I can see.” Ben was examining the wheel. “Seems perfectly...” He stopped, running his fingers around the inside of the center, where it fit onto the axle. He drew them out and stared at them.
“Grease,” he said. He rubbed his fingers together. “Or oil, maybe. Not enough to tell.” He paused, frowning. “I guess Eli might have oiled it if it was squeaking.” Ben’s tone was doubtful.
“Maybe. It’s easy enough to ask him.” But Aaron had a sinking feeling that he knew what Eli’s answer would be. “Do you think
we can lift the buggy up enough to have a look at the axle?”
“Sure. Boys! Come over here. Just drop the line. That mare’s not going anywhere with all that grass to eat.”
With the aid of the two boys and a stout tree branch to use as a lever, they managed to tilt the axle end free of the dirt. Ben and Aaron squatted on either side, studying it.
Finally Ben grunted. “If it wasn’t so unlikely, I’d say that someone loosened this wheel. But who would do a thing like that? It’s impossible, surely.”
“Maybe so.” But he wasn’t convinced. This was Sarah’s buggy, and everyone knew she drove it back and forth to town every day.
If the arsonist believed Sarah had seen something that night she’d encountered him, might he try to silence her? Or warn her to silence? But would someone other than an Amish person even think of the buggy, let alone know what would make it dangerous?
Aaron didn’t know, and he cringed at the thought of bringing the police down on them. But if Sarah was in danger... His heart seemed to miss a beat. He couldn’t ignore that, either.
* * *
SARAH PATTED MOLLY reassuringly as she tied a lead rope to the back of Aaron’s carriage. “You’ll soon be home, my girl. I’ll have a special treat for you tonight.”
She hadn’t expected to be making this trip to pick up the mare with Aaron, but he’d shown up after supper to let them know he’d go after Molly. She’d tried to insist he didn’t need to do that, but in the end she’d given in and ridden along with him.
“She deserves it.” Aaron ran his hand along the mare’s flank. “From what you said, she might well have saved you from serious injury by stopping when she did.”
“And the kinder, as well.” Sarah hesitated, but there was something she needed to say. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that they were hurt when they were with me.” Her throat tightened as she remembered too vividly the terror that had overwhelmed her at the sight of the buggy toppling toward those two innocent children.
“Don’t say that. Don’t even think it.” Aaron rounded the buggy with her. “You risked yourself to protect them. I’m the one to be sorry that you were hurt.”