A Sister's Test (13 page)

Dad shook his head. “If the attacker wanted to make Grace pay, then the attacks would have been against just her, not the rest of the family.”

“But if it’s someone wanting to get even with you, then wouldn’t he have done things to hurt just you?”

“Anything that hurts my family hurts me,” Dad said as he hurled the empty can into a box full of trash near the barn door.

“The more things that happen, the more scared I become.” Ruth gulped in some air. “I just wonder how much longer this will go on.”

“I don’t know. Our bishop came by the shop yesterday morning and said he’d spoken to Luke.”

“What did Luke have to say?”

Dad shrugged. “Guess he told the bishop that he thinks I’ve got it in for him and that he’s not responsible for any of the attacks against us.”

“Do you believe him?”

“No, and I’ve been thinking about talking to Luke myself, but I don’t want to rile him. He might be capable of doing even worse things if he gets mad enough.”

“I can understand that he might have been upset with you for firing him, but that was some time ago. Why would he be doing spiteful things to us now?”

“Maybe he heard about your betrothal to Martin and feels jealous because you’re marrying him.”

“Oh, Dad, I don’t think so. If Luke had wanted to marry me, he wouldn’t have kept secrets during our courtship. I think he was relieved when I broke up with him.”

“Maybe so, but he wasn’t relieved when I fired him.”

“Are you talking about Luke?” Martha asked, stepping up to them.

Dad nodded and pointed to the garden. “Look what was done to your mamm’s vegetable plants.”

Martha’s eyebrows lifted high on her forehead. “What in all the world would cause someone to do such a thing, and who could have done it?”

“The same one who did that.” Ruth pointed to the writing on the side of the barn. “
Somebody’s
trying to make
someone
in this family pay for
something
.”

Martha clasped her father’s arm. “You’ve got to phone the sheriff. We can’t allow this kind of thing to continue. Sooner or later someone’s going to get hurt.”

Mom stepped into the yard just then. “What’s going on? I figured Ruth would be on her way to work by now. And you, too, Roman. What are you all doing out here on the lawn?”

“Look,” the three of them said in unison as they pointed to the garden.

Mom let out a yelp and lifted her hands.
“Ich kann sell net geh!”

“There isn’t much you can do except tolerate it.” Dad slipped his arm around Mom’s waist. “What’s done is done. We just need to hold steady and keep trusting God to protect us and our property.”

“How can we trust God when things keep happening and we never know when or why?” Ruth questioned.

Before Dad could reply, Cleon showed up. “What’s going on? Why are you all standing out here in the yard?”

“Someone left a message on our barn, and they—they killed my garden,” Mom said in a shaky voice. “Somebody’s out to get us, and I’m very much afraid.”

“That’s what they want—to make us afraid.” Dad’s lips compressed into a thin line. “We can’t give in. We must hold steady.”

Cleon frowned. “When Grace hears of this, she’s going to be awfully upset. Probably more convinced than ever that the reporter is behind it.”

“Grace might be right,” Ruth agreed. “That reporter seems real sneaky to me.”

“I think it’s safe to say that whoever’s been doing this must be someone close by, as they seem to know our family’s comings and goings,” Cleon said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re not keeping a watch on the place.”

“As I’ve said before, I’m not convinced the reporter’s doing it,” Dad said with a grunt. “I still think it could be Luke.”

“I don’t believe Luke’s the one responsible,” Martha protested.

“We won’t solve anything by standing around playing guessing games.” Dad nodded at Cleon. “We’ve got work in the shop that needs to be done.”

“What about the garden?” Ruth wailed.

“I’ll see about getting another spot plowed and spaded as soon as I’m done for the day,” Dad said. “Then you and your mamm can begin planting tomorrow morning.”

Cleon leaned close to Mom. “Would you go to my house and speak with Grace? I don’t want her coming out here and seeing what’s happened without some warning.”

She nodded. “Jah, sure. I’ll do that now.” Mom headed up the driveway toward Cleon and Grace’s house, and the men turned toward the woodworking shop.

Martha paced in front of her mother’s garden, anger bubbling in her soul. “Something needs to be done about this.”

Ruth knelt on the grass and let her head fall forward into her outstretched hands. “I have a terrible feeling that I’ll never marry Martin—that something will prevent our wedding from taking place.”

Martha dropped down beside Ruth and gave her a hug. “Maybe I should go out to the shop and talk to Dad again—try to convince him to phone the sheriff.”

“Sheriff Osborn knows about some of the other things that have happened here, and what good has that done?”

“He said he’d keep an eye on things.”

“True. But he can’t be watching our place all the time.”

“Even so, I think Dad should let the sheriff know about these recent happenings.” Martha rose to her feet and was about to walk away, when Sheriff Osborn’s car pulled into the driveway. It stopped beside her father’s shop, and the sheriff got out of the car and went inside.

“Now that’s a surprise,” Ruth said. “I wonder what he’s doing here.”

“I’m going to see what the sheriff has to say.” Martha sprinted toward the shop, leaving Ruth sitting on the grass by herself.

“Got a call from one of your neighbors,” Martha heard the sheriff say when she stepped into the shop a few minutes later. “They said someone had written something threatening on the side of your barn.”

“Don’t tell me. Ray Larson called. He was probably checking things over with those binoculars of his. After that first round of attacks against us several months ago, Ray’s wife said she would ask him to keep an eye on things.” Dad folded his arms and grunted. “I never thought that was necessary, though.”

Sheriff Osborn shrugged. “The caller didn’t identify himself. Just mentioned seeing the writing on your barn.”

“There was more done than that,” Martha announced as she closed the door behind her. “Somebody put weed killer on my mother’s vegetable garden, and now everything’s ruined.”

Dad shot Martha a look of irritation. “What are you doing out here, girl?”

“I saw the sheriff’s car pull in, and I wanted to see if he knew anything about what’s been going on here lately.”

Sheriff Osborn tipped his head in Dad’s direction. “Has something happened besides the message on the barn and the garden being ruined?”

Dad waved a hand. “It wasn’t much. Just a stink bomb thrown into the barn, and some toilet paper draped all over our buildings.”

“Sounds like whoever bothered you before might be at it again.” The sheriff pulled a notebook and pen out of his shirt pocket and began writing. “When did you say these other things happened?”

“A couple weeks ago,” Dad answered.

“Did you see anyone lurking around the place before or after the incidents?”

“Nope.”

“Just Ray Larson.” Cleon spoke up from across the room, where he’d been quietly working on a set of cabinets. “I spotted him walking up and down our fence line the day before the stink bomb happened. His binoculars were hanging around his neck.” He shrugged. “I figured
he was out looking for some unusual birds.”

“How come you never mentioned this before?” A muscle in Dad’s cheek twitched.

Cleon shrugged again. “Didn’t seem important at the time. It just came to mind now, when the sheriff asked if we’d seen anyone hanging around the place.”

Martha stepped between the sheriff and her father. “There’s no way Ray Larson could be responsible for any of the things that have been done to us.”

“How do you know?” the sheriff asked, turning to face her.

“I just do. Ray and Donna are good neighbors. They often drive us places we can’t go with the horse and buggy, and they bought one of Heidi’s pups.”

The sheriff arched one eyebrow and stared at Martha as if she’d taken leave of her senses. “I hardly thinking buying a puppy is reason enough to remove the Larsons’ name from our list of suspects.”

Martha’s eyes widened. “You have a list?”

The sheriff nodded. “The last time your father and I spoke, he mentioned a few people he thought might have a grudge against him.”

“You never told us you’d given the sheriff a list of names,” Martha said, turning to face her father.

“I talked to him about it once when he stopped by my shop to see if there had been any more attacks.” Dad gave his earlobe a quick pull. “Saw no need to mention it.”

Martha turned back to the sheriff. “Did Dad tell you about Gary Walker?”

“Who?”

“He’s that reporter who’s been hanging around Holmes County doing stories about the Amish,” Cleon explained. “He used to date my wife when she was going through her running-around years.”

Sheriff Osborn nodded. “Ah, I remember now. He’s the one who wrote that article some time ago that included a picture of Grace and told about some of the acts of vandalism that had been done at your place.”

“That’s right,” Dad said. “We were afraid the article might make things worse by giving someone the idea that they could get away with
doing such a thing.” He grunted. “And maybe it has, because things sure have gotten worse since that article came out.”

“Might be good for me to speak to this reporter.” The sheriff scribbled something else on his tablet. “Find out what he knows and feel him out.”

“I doubt he’s going to admit anything,” Martha said. “I was with Grace one day when she confronted him, and he was real arrogant and denied knowing anything about our problems.”

“He might be willing to talk to me.” Sheriff Osborn looked over at Dad. “Were any clues left after these recent attacks? Something that might point to the one responsible?”

“Just a pack of cigarettes I found on the ground after the toilet-papering was done,” Dad said. “I suspect the culprit’s a smoker.”

“Do you still have the cigarettes?”

Dad shook his head. “Threw them out that same day, just like I did with the empty spray can I found on the ground near our barn this morning. Martha could get that for you.”

“If there are any more attacks and you find any clues, I don’t want you to touch them—and certainly don’t throw them away.” The sheriff frowned. “I might be able to check for fingerprints.” He started for the door but whirled back around. “Let me know if you see or hear anything suspicious.”

Dad nodded, and Martha hurried out the door after the sheriff. After she showed him where the can of spray paint was, she said, “You will let us know what Gary Walker has to say after you speak to him, I hope.”

The sheriff nodded. “If there’s anything worth repeating, your dad will be the first to know.”

D
o I have to go to school, Mama?” Anna whined as she sat at the table, poking her scrambled eggs with the tip of her fork.

Grace nodded and took a sip of her tea. “This is your first day of school, and you should be happy about attending the first grade.”

Anna’s lower lip protruded. “What if I don’t like my teacher? What if the work’s too hard?”

“Clara Bontrager is a good teacher, and I’m sure you’ll do fine. Your friend Esta will be there, and you know most of the other children, so you won’t be alone.”

Anna’s forehead wrinkled. “I wonder if Esta will miss her puppy while she’s in school. Winkie makes Esta laugh, you know. He helps her forget she lost her mamm.”

“I’m glad about that. I’m also pleased that you and Esta have become such good friends.” Grace gave Anna’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Now hurry and finish your breakfast so I can take you to school.”

“Can’t I walk? The schoolhouse isn’t far down the road.”

Grace shook her head. “If you had older brothers or sisters to walk with you, I might allow it, but it’s just you, and I want to be sure you get to school safely.”

Anna shrugged her slim shoulders. “Jah, okay.”