A Sister's Hope (26 page)

The little girl let out another piercing scream, and Ruth gritted her teeth to keep from screaming herself. With Molly hollering in her ear, she could barely think, much less try to resolve Gideon’s problem.

Esta’s sheltie darted into the room, with Esta right behind him. “Come back here, Winkie,” she yelled. “Your paws are muddy and you’re not supposed to be in the living room with dirty feet!”

Ruth opened her mouth to scold Esta for letting the dog in the house, when Owen, who’d been cowering in one corner of the room since he’d bumped into Molly, jumped up and started chasing the dog.

“I’ll get him for you, sister!” he shouted.

Esta and Owen darted for Winkie, and their heads collided.

“Ouch!” Esta rubbed her forehead and glared at Owen. “You oughta watch where you’re going.”

“I was only tryin’ to help.” His chin trembled, and tears welled in his eyes.

“Aw, don’t start bawlin’ now,” Gideon grumbled. “It’s bad enough we have to listen to Molly screaming all the time.”

Esta shook her finger at Gideon. “Don’t be talkin’ about our little sister that way. She’s got every right to cry if she wants to.”

“All right, that’s enough!” Ruth lifted Molly from her lap and was about to stand, when Winkie leaped over her foot. She bent down and grabbed the dog’s collar. “Get your dog, Esta.” Then she turned to Owen and said, “I want you to take Molly out to the kitchen and find something to keep her entertained.” She looked back at Esta. “After you’ve put Winkie away in the dog run, you and Josh had better head out to school.”

“What about Gideon?” Esta questioned.

“He can catch up to you after he finds his backpack.”

Owen grabbed Molly’s hand and led her to the kitchen, while Josh and Esta rushed out the back door. Gideon stood facing Ruth with his arms folded. “Don’t see why I have to look for my backpack. Can’t I go to school without it?”

She shook her head. “Your homework is in the backpack, and so are your schoolbooks. You need to think about where you put it last night before you went upstairs to bed.”

“Put it right there.” Gideon pointed to the floor near the door.

“Well, it’s not there now, so I suggest you think of some other places to look.”

He stared at Ruth as though daring her to make him move.

She tapped her foot impatiently. “Do I need to go out to the harness shop and get your daed?”

Gideon’s face turned red, and he shuffled his feet a few times. Finally, with a disgruntled grunt, he turned and stomped up the stairs.

Ruth debated about going up to his room to help search for the
backpack but decided he might not appreciate it. Instead, she went to the kitchen to see what the younger children were up to. She found Molly sitting on the floor playing with two empty kettles and a wooden spoon. Owen sat at the table coloring a picture.

When Owen spotted Ruth, he hopped off his chair. “Is it okay if I go upstairs and color in my room?”

“Don’t you want to sit here in the kitchen where it’s warm and cozy?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Molly keeps makin’ noise with those pots she’s bangin’.”

“Okay.”

Owen had no more than left the room, when Gideon showed up carrying his backpack. “Found it,” he announced.

“Where was it?”

“Under my bed.” He sauntered out the back door before Ruth could comment.

Ruth poured herself a cup of tea and headed back to the living room. She needed a few minutes of solitude.

She set her cup on the coffee table, took a seat in the rocking chair, and closed her eyes.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Maybe I made a mistake marrying a man with five children. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a mother.

Ruth’s eyes snapped open when she heard a pathetic whimper coming from the kitchen.

Thinking something must be wrong with Molly, she sprang from her chair and rushed to the kitchen. She found the child sitting on the floor, this time with a kettle on her head.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Molly pointed at the kettle.
“Fascht.”

“I know you’re stuck.” Ruth lifted the kettle off Molly’s head and sank to the floor beside her. As she held the little girl in her lap, she started to laugh. With all the serious stuff that had gone on in this house lately, she’d almost forgotten how to look for humor.

“
Hungerich
,” Molly said, tugging on Ruth’s sleeve.

“Well, then, if you’re hungry, I think the two of us should have
a little snack.” Ruth clambered to her feet, grabbed a box of crackers from the cupboard, and placed them on the table. Then she set Molly in a chair and spread several crackers on the table in front of her.

As Ruth joined Molly at the table, she realized she’d been taking things too seriously lately. What she should be doing was asking God to help her with Gideon, not arguing with the boy or trying to solve things on her own.

She glanced over at Molly and smiled.
And I definitely need to laugh and smile a lot more
.

Thump-thump-thump!
Martha jumped when she heard someone knocking at the front door. None of their friends or relatives ever used that door.

“I’ll get it,” Mom said as she placed her kitchen towel on the counter. She hurried from the room and returned shortly with a smile on her face. “There’s someone here to look at the hundlin you have for sale.”

Martha dried her hands on the towel and hurried from the kitchen. Apparently, someone had read the ad she’d put in the newspaper. Either that, or they’d seen the sign posted out front by the driveway advertising sheltie and beagle puppies.

When Martha went to the door, she discovered a middle-aged English couple on the porch. “My mother says you’re interested in seeing some of my dogs?”

“Oh yes,” the dark-haired woman said with a nod. “We read your ad in the
Bargain Hunter
, and we’re interested in seeing the sheltie puppies.” She smiled at the balding man who stood beside her. “I’ve wanted a sheltie for some time. Isn’t that right, Philip?”

He nodded. “Can we take a look at the pups now?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll just get my jacket, and then I’ll take you out to the kennels.” Martha hurried to the utility room where her jacket hung and then rushed back out to the porch where the couple waited. “Follow me,” she said, leading the way across the yard toward the barn.

She found the barn door unlocked but figured Dad had already been out there this morning before he and Cleon had left for Sugarcreek to deliver some cabinets. What she hadn’t figured on was the sight that greeted her when she stepped inside the barn and lit the nearest gas lantern. Heidi and Polly were both running free, and so were their puppies. Had the dogs figured out how to get their cage doors open now, too?

“Oh, my! What’s that awful smell?” the woman asked, sniffing the air. “It smells like fresh—”

“Horse manure,” the man said, finishing her sentence. “And there’s the reason we smell it.” He pointed to one of the beagle pups. “That dog’s hair is covered with manure.”

“Eww!” The woman wrinkled her nose. “That’s really disgusting!”

Yip! Yip! Yip!

Martha gasped when she spotted a puppy tail sticking through a thin opening in a nearby wooden crate. Its mother, Polly, let out an ear-piercing howl and jumped up, planting both paws on the woman’s jean-clad knees.

“Get down!” the woman shrieked, pushing the dog away. She looked over at Martha and frowned. “What kind of business are you running here anyway?”

“I assure you—”

“She’s running a puppy mill, that’s what.” The man made a sweeping gesture with one hand. “No one running a respectable kennel would allow their dogs to run all over the place, rolling in horse manure, getting stuck in wooden crates, and who knows what else!”

The woman turned toward the door. “Let’s go, Philip. I would never buy a puppy from anyone who neglects their dogs in such a way!”

“I don’t neglect my dogs,” Martha mumbled as the couple left the barn. She glanced down at Heidi, who was looking up at her with sorrowful brown eyes. “I would never mistreat any of my dogs.”

A sudden realization came to Martha. Someone must have sneaked into the barn and let the dogs out. Someone wanted to make it look like she wasn’t taking good care of her dogs.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Luke halted at the bottom of the stairs and turned to face his father. “I’m heading to work.”

“Without breakfast?” his mother asked, as she stepped out of the kitchen and into the hall.

“I slept later than I should have. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late.”

Pop grimaced and shook his head. “You got in late last night, didn’t you?”

Luke nodded.

“I heard your truck rumble in, and when I looked at the clock, it was after midnight.” Pop grunted. “Where’d you park that truck, anyway? Not on our property, I hope.”

Luke shook his head. “I parked it behind some bushes along the side of the road, not far from our driveway.”

Pop grunted again.

“Where were you at such a late hour, Luke?” Mom asked.

“I was in New Philly most of the evening, and then I drove around for a while.”

“Drove around, huh? Don’t you know we were worried?” Pop’s voice rose, and a vein on the side of his neck bulged.

Luke massaged the back of his head. He’d woken with a headache—no doubt from lack of sleep. “I’m sorry if I made you worry, but as you can see, I’m fine and dandy.”

Pop planted both hands on his hips. “You’re fine and dandy all right—out all hours on a weeknight, driving around in that fancy truck of yours, doing who knows what.” He stared at Luke. “I want to know exactly where you were and what you were doing.”

Luke’s jaw dropped. “I’m not a little buwe, Pop. I don’t think I should have to account for every minute I’m away from the house.”

Pop clapped his hands, and Mom jumped.

“Really, Elam, do you have to shout at our son like that?”

Pop scowled at her. “I do when he’s being disrespectful, not to
mention rebellious and defiant.” He shook his finger at Luke. “I don’t think you’d have been out so late last night if you’d been driving a horse and buggy, now would you?”

“Probably not, but—”

“It’s that fancy truck that’s causing you problems. I demand that you put it up for sale, and you’d better do it today!”

Luke shook his head. “I need my truck, Pop.”

“What do you need it for?” Mom spoke softly, and Luke could see by the strained look on her face that she was struggling not to cry.

“I can’t say why I need it.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Dad hollered.

Luke shifted from one foot to the other, wondering how much he dared say to his folks without telling them the real reason he felt he needed to own a truck right now. “I’m still going through my rumschpringe, you know.”

“Like we needed that reminder.” Pop slowly shook his head. “You’ve been going through your running-around years long enough. It’s time to settle down and make a commitment to God and to our church.”

“I’m not ready.”

Pop moved closer to Luke, until they were nose to nose. “I’m tired of all this, boy. If you won’t sell that truck, then you’ll have to move out of my house.”

Mom gasped. “Ach, not this again! You can’t mean it, Elam!”

He nodded soberly. “I do mean it.”

Mom stepped forward and placed her hand on Luke’s arm. “I’m begging you. Please do as your daed asks.”

Luke swallowed hard. He didn’t want to disappoint his mother, but he wasn’t ready to make a decision about joining the church yet.

Pop nudged Luke’s back with his elbow. “What’s it gonna be, son?”

Luke turned and grabbed his jacket off the wall peg by the door. “I’m not willing to sell my truck at this time, and I’m not ready to join the church yet. If you’re opposed to me living here under those conditions, then I guess it is time for me to move out.” Before either of his folks could respond, Luke jerked open the back door. “I’ll be back after work to get my things!”