The Hope

by Patricia Davids

  The farmers backed their vehicles to clear the road and took their hats off as the procession went by. Owen stopped his horse in front of one and nodded toward the stuck motorist. “Will you help that fella get his car out of there?”

  “I reckon. If I don’t he’s just gonna tear up more of my field. Hey, maybe I can sue him for the damage. Or maybe I’ll offer him an interview for a hundred thousand bucks.” He chuckled and slapped his knee.

  Grace was huddled beside Owen. “That man thinks he’s as funny as Ernest?”

  Ruth gave her a small squeeze. “Nobody is as funny as Ernest or as funny as he thinks he is.”

  That made Grace giggle. It didn’t lift Owen’s mood. He glanced toward Ruth. She would never belong to him the way she had belonged to Nathan. The ache in his chest went so deep it was hard to draw a breath.

  Ruth was still in love with her husband. While he had realized that before, he didn’t fully appreciate the extent of that love until he saw her talking to the tombstone as if she were talking to the man. The gentle smile on her face and the sadness in her voice left him with no doubt.

  While Ruth might care for him, Owen would never be able to replace her Nathan in her heart. Any hope of winning her love died a slow and painful death as he drove the buggy toward her house.

  He had come to Cedar Grove to help and to make amends. That was still his intention. When Ernest and Faron returned, Owen would take Grace home as she had asked. He couldn’t bear the heartbreak of loving Ruth and knowing she couldn’t be his. With some time and distance perhaps he could learn to accept it.

  He bowed his head as the truth sank in. He was in love with Ruth Mast. Hopelessly in love and nothing was going to change his feelings.

  When they arrived at her house, Ruth carried Grace inside and Owen took the horse to the barn. He unhitched and unharnessed Licorice, giving her a rubdown before returning to the house. A half dozen of the younger boys were parking the buggies and unhitching the horses from them. Leaving their harnesses in place, the boys tethered them to the fence. They brought water to each animal in turn, then put on their feed bags.

  The meal was being served cafeteria-style. Men and women moved in and out of the house with plates and drinks. Sarah and Ella were at a large tub washing the dirty dishes as they were brought out. William Zook and his sons were carrying clean plates back around to the kitchen.

  Owen spoke to several of the men and women who approached him. He commented on the weather and talked about the places he visited. He wasn’t asked about Rebecca.

  Several women offered to bring him a plate of food, but he declined. He wasn’t hungry. Grace’s scare at the cemetery had him on edge. He scanned the road repeatedly for lurking cars.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” Julie Temple asked as she approached him with an empty plate in hand.

  “I’m not really hungry.” It was good to see his grade school teacher. He remembered her fondly. She hadn’t changed a bit.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Owen. I kept the paper you wrote in the eighth grade about being separated from your sister. It was very poignant.”

  “It was a sad time for me.”

  “As today must be.”

  He nodded. She laid a comforting hand on his arm. “In your paper you said your only wish was to find Rebecca and make sure she was safe and happy. God has answered that prayer even if not in the way you wanted.”

  Miss Julie was right. He knew where his sister was. He knew she was safe and at peace. “Thank you.”

  Another of Miss Julie’s former students approached. Owen reached for Julie’s empty plate. “Let me take that for you.” He carried it to where Sarah and Ella were washing dishes and handed it to Sarah.

  “What do you make of Grace saying that she saw a bad man?” Sarah asked as she took the plate from him and slipped it into the sudsy water.

  “I believe she saw someone.”

  “A stranger with spiders on his neck. I wonder. Was he a curious onlooker, a sneaky reporter or someone more sinister?”

  Ella frowned at her friend. “Those reporters are rubbing off on you.”

  Owen’s gaze snapped to Sarah’s face. “Have they been back to your farm?”

  “Once when Joshua wasn’t there. Laura Beth loaded them up with a bushel of last year’s dried lavender harvest. At a significant markup. She was so polite and talkative they couldn’t get a question in edgewise. I think they thought if they purchased her goods, she would give them an interview. Nope. But they went away smelling sweet.”

  “Thanks for telling me.” Owen let his temper cool. He didn’t like that Grace’s situation was putting his friends and neighbors in awkward situations. The best that he could hope for was a more interesting story to come along and draw the reporters away. Rebecca was dead. He didn’t want Grace’s grief spread across newspaper pages or television screens. At least when he and Grace left, he doubted the reporters would follow him out of state.

  * * *

  TWO DAYS AFTER the funeral Zack and Ella were getting ready to continue their wedding trip. They would be back at Christmas and perhaps even once before that, but Ruth knew that would be much too long. Sarah came to see Ella off. The two women embraced, and both wiped the tears from their eyes.

  “You come visit!” Ella pressed a finger to Sarah’s chest.

  “I promise I will. After the lavender season is over. I’ll even bring you some of Laura Beth’s goat milk soap. I know how much you like it.”

  Zack held open the door of the van they had arranged to take them back to Jamesport. “We need to get going.”

  Ella looked around. “I haven’t taken my leave of Grace. Where is she?”

  “Under the sink in the bathroom. She can’t give up her safe place for long. I’m worried about her.”

  “Poor child. Give her some time. She’s been through a lot. Tell her I said goodbye.”

  Ruth nodded. “I will.”

  Ella hugged Sarah one last time. “Check on Mamm for me. She’s going to be terribly busy when the lambs start arriving.”

  “I promise that I’ll come over. I will even bottle-feed some of her adorable lambs if she will let me.”

  “Sarah, I’ll cheerfully welcome your help.” Ruth put her arm around Sarah and the two of them watched the van pull away.

  Sarah leaned her head on Ruth’s shoulder. “I miss her, but I’m glad she found the man that makes her happy.”

  Ruth gave her a quick hug. “It’s a great blessing when the right man comes into your life.”

  “That’s what Laura Beth says. She says she has been doubly blessed to love Micah and then to find love again after his passing with Joshua.”

  “I admire your sister. I think she was very brave to marry again.”

  “Don’t you think that you will marry again someday?”

  “I don’t know what Gott has in store for me. I used to think I wouldn’t, but who knows?”

  “At least you’re not opposed to the idea. That should make it easier for the Lord to find someone for you.”

  Ruth chuckled but she wondered how much truth there was in Sarah’s words.

  That evening the sheriff stopped in to see Owen. She sent him down to the barn where Owen was storing the recently delivered bales of hay.

  Ruth hadn’t had to purchase more. A trailer loaded with prairie hay had been dropped off in the yard overnight without even a note for an explanation, but Ruth soon figured it out. The trailer belonged to one of the farmers who had blocked the road during the funeral. He was a good neighbor, and she would return the favor one day.

  Owen was the one puzzle she couldn’t seem to solve. He had been withdrawn since returning from Rebecca’s burial. She assumed it was because of his continued sadness over the loss of his sister, but a small part of her began to think that might not be all it was. Like Grace, she was wil
ling to give Owen the time he needed to heal. That morning a letter had arrived from the social worker. The child custody hearing was set for two weeks from Monday. Faron and Ernest would be back by then.

  She was sweeping the porch when she saw Owen walking toward her with the sheriff. Both men wore grim expressions. She went down the steps to meet them. “What’s wrong?”

  Owen looked toward the front door. “Where is Grace?”

  “Frosting some cupcakes for me because my kitchen isn’t messy enough.”

  The sheriff didn’t smile at her joke. “I have some news about Grace’s father. We have a DNA match. He’s a man named Antonio Winters. He’s an ex-con with a long history of violence, including domestic abuse, and he’s wanted for questioning in a homicide investigation in Cincinnati. I have some questions for him about Rebecca’s murder, too.”

  Ruth’s eyes locked with Owen’s. “Could he get custody of Grace?”

  The sheriff held up one hand. “We haven’t heard from him in that regard, but we do believe he’s been in the area. We have surveillance footage from a gas station outside Ottawa showing someone who looks a lot like Winters driving a white Ford pickup. It’s not far off the interstate so there could be any number of reasons why he was there, but the date stamp said it was two days before the funeral. I want you to keep an eye out for the man. He has a spiderweb tattoo on the right side of his neck.”

  Ruth crossed her arms as a shiver went down her spine. “Grace said the bad man she saw had spiders on his neck.”

  The sheriff nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Perhaps he only wanted to see his child’s mother laid to rest,” Ruth suggested.

  “I don’t think his motives were that pure. I’m going to have my men patrol this area much more frequently. I don’t have the manpower to leave someone with you around the clock so I’d like the two of you to carry cell phones. That way you can let me know if you see anything suspicious.”

  “Cell phones are not permitted for baptized members of our congregation,” Ruth said.

  The sheriff pressed his lips together. “I’m hoping you’ll bend the rules a little this time. He’s a violent man.”

  “It is not our way to fear any man or any thing. Gott is our protection,” Owen said.

  “I was afraid you’d say that. I’m still going to keep up increased patrols for a few weeks. Maybe that will discourage a visit from him.”

  Ruth frowned. “You believe he will come here?”

  “I do. It’s my gut feeling that Grace was a witness to her mother’s murder. Maybe she can’t name him, but I’m pretty sure she could pick him out of a lineup. He could be thinking the same thing. I’ve got a call into Agent Morgan. I’m hoping he will loan me a few more men. Unless he does, I can’t assure your safety out here.”

  “Gott is our assurance,” Ruth said softly.

  * * *

  OVER THE NEXT few days the vehicles of the sheriff’s department were seen frequently up on the county road. Several times a day a deputy drove into the farmyard and waved as he turned around and left. Ruth saw their lights at night and knew they were keeping a close eye on her. With no new reports or sightings of Winters, Ruth began to relax, but her concerns about Grace continued.

  The child remained withdrawn and quiet, often slipping into her safe place for several hours at a time. She only left the house to be with Owen. He had been as quiet and reserved as Grace.

  Ruth wanted to give him room to grieve, but she couldn’t help feeling that he was shutting her out. It didn’t seem as though they were as close anymore. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was, but he hadn’t taken her hand once since leaving the cemetery. It was amazing how much she missed his gentle touch.

  Ruth carried her dust rag and furniture polish into her living room and started on the end table.

  The outside door flew open with a bang and Grace went tearing into the kitchen. “I see one! I see a baby sheep!”

  A second later she sped into the living room and skidded to a halt in front of Ruth, hopping up and down as she pointed out the front door. “I saw one! It’s out there! I saw it.”

  Owen followed her in the open door with a huge grin on his face. “She saw one, all right. She sure did.”

  Grace’s eyes were wide with excitement. “I did. There’s a baby sheep in the pasture.”

  A slow smile spread across Ruth’s face. This was the first sign of happiness she’d seen from Grace since she’d learned her mother had passed away as well as the first real smile from Owen.

  “I’m sure I mentioned this is what happens in March, didn’t I?” She went to the entryway and began to pull on her boots.

  “I didn’t see the ewe with it. What if she has abandoned it?” Owen asked.

  “Then you will get to do Ernest’s favorite job and bottle-feed it.”

  “Can I do it?” Grace asked. She clasped her hands together and continued hopping up and down.

  Owen shoved his hands in his pockets and tapped his foot as he waited for Ruth. “Don’t hurry on our account. Who knows how long the poor thing has been lying there.”

  She looked up. “This isn’t my first lambing season.”

  “Well, it’s my first. What should I be doing?”

  She waved him out the door. “Go check and see if the mother is nearby and take this hopping child with you. I have to gather my supplies. It’s exciting, but I dread it at the same time. I hope you are caught up on your sleep.”

  He went striding toward the pasture with Grace running to keep up. Ruth chuckled as she pulled the backpack she had loaded with supplies off the hook by the door. His excitement would wear off soon enough. It would be a long and tiring week or more.

  When she met up with Owen in the pasture, she saw the lamb sleeping quietly in a patch of sunshine. The snow was long gone. The grass wasn’t tall, but it was a lush green, making the pasture look more like a manicured lawn than an animal pen.

  Grace squatted a few feet away from the lamb. “It’s so small.”

  “Aren’t they adorable?” Ruth opened her backpack. A bleating cry alerted her to the fact that the ewe was on the other side of a small rise. She walked over and saw the new mother’s second lamb was nursing and twirling its tail happily. She turned to Owen. “It’s twins.”

  “Twins. I hope she takes care of them both. I’m not sure I could manage to bottle-feed one. I’ve bottle-fed a couple of calves, but they weren’t as delicate as these little creatures.”

  Ruth picked up the lone lamb. It was a male. He came awake and began bleating. His cries brought the ewe running to check on her babe, objecting loudly as she came. “You need to distract her, Owen.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “What? How?”

  “Get between her and me and try to keep her back but be careful. That’s number eighty-eight. She’s a very protective ewe and can do some damage. Grace, I want you to stay behind me.”

  “What are you doing?” Owen asked, stepping between the irate mother and Ruth. He started clapping his hands to drive the animal back.

  Ruth held the newborn up to her face and planted a kiss on his nose. “Hello, sweet bobbli. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Ruthie. Welcome to my farm.”

  Owen glanced over his shoulder. “Are you talking baby talk to a sheep?”

  “We’re just getting to know each other. When a lamb is born our work starts. First, we check to see if the lamb is healthy. Is it active? Are the eyes bright? Does it seem strong? This one appears to be fine. After that, we dab iodine on the navel to prevent infection, give him some vitamins and band the tail.”

  “Are you about done? Because this mama is getting antsy.” He snatched his hat off and waved it to keep her from getting too close.

  “Not quite. I have to mark them with the ewe’s number using waxy crayon sticks.”

  She demonstrated by m
arking the lamb’s left side with two large yellow eights. “If it’s a single birth, the lamb will get marked with one stripe across its back. Two stripes for a twin and so on. It doesn’t matter if you mark them on the left side or the right side but it’s best to always use the same side. I mark my lambs on the left side.”

  The ewe continued to announce her displeasure and lowered her head in a threatening gesture. Owen took a step back toward Ruth. “Are you done? She’s very upset.”

  “Almost. I need to put a rubber band over the tail. The part below the rubber band will die and fall off in a couple of weeks. A shorter tail makes for cleaner sheep. Fortunately my Icelandic sheep have a naturally short tail and I can skip this step with them. That’s another reason I like the breed.”

  “Just hurry up.”

  Ruth chuckled as she put the lamb on the ground and watched as it scurried to Mom. Owen wasn’t as brave as she thought if a mad mother sheep frightened him.

  The ewe stopped protesting and nuzzled her baby before moving away. “Catch the other lamb, Owen. You take care of this one and I’ll keep the mother busy. Grace, stay behind Owen.”

  He managed to go through the entire process quickly and confidently as he marked the other lamb and turned it loose. “Now what?”

  “We go look for more lambs.”

  Grace went running ahead and came back in a minute with Meeka beside her. “Owen, I see another one with his mother over there. Come on.”

  He looked at Ruth and grinned. It warmed her heart. “I can’t believe we’ve been worried about her. She’s as happy as a lark.”

  “Now you know how I feel when I’m with my flock.”

  The morning went well with five mothers all delivering twins. Two males and eight new females. Two of the females were Icelandic sheep that Ruth would keep to increase her flock. When the last one was marked and treated, Ruth sighed with pleasure. “It is a good start to our lambing season. I just hope the weather doesn’t get any colder.”