A Sister's Test (22 page)

As Martin and Ruth drove home in their buggy, her head lolled against the seat, and her eyes drifted shut.

“You sleepy?” he asked, reaching over to take her hand.

She yawned. “A little.”

“It was a good supper we had, jah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you get that recipe for stuffed cabbage rolls written down?”

“It’s right in here.” Ruth tapped the black handbag lying in her lap.

“When do you plan to make them?”

Her eyes snapped open. “Martin Gingerich, your belly’s still full of cabbage rolls and dutch apple pie, and you’re already asking when there will be more?”

He snickered. “It’s a good thing I’ve never had a problem with gaining too much weight.”

She poked him gently in the ribs. “You might have a problem if you keep eating the way you did tonight.”

“I doubt it. Ever since I was a boy, I’ve been able to eat whatever
I want without gaining a bunch of weight.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

He shrugged. “Would you still love me if I were chubby?”

“Jah.”

“If my hair started falling out and I went completely bald, then would you love me?”

“Of course.”

“How about if I jabbed myself with a knife while cutting a hunk of leather and got a nasty scar that made me look ugly. Would you love me then?”

Ruth pursed her lips. “You shouldn’t even tease about such things. Just thinking about you getting hurt makes me feel grank.”

He leaned closer and nuzzled her neck. “Sorry.”

She pointed to the hill up ahead, and the buggy jostled. “You’d better keep your mind on your driving, or you might run off the road.”

“All right, I’ll be good.” He gave her a quick wink. “For now, at least.”

Ruth smiled as she relaxed against the seat and snuggled under the warm quilt tucked around her legs. This stretch of road was beautiful during the day—with plenty of trees on both sides, well-kept farms, and fields of fresh-cut hay along the way. During the night, however, she couldn’t see much. But that was okay. She and Martin were together, and that was all that mattered.

Ruth’s head drooped against Martin’s shoulder. She was nearly asleep when he nudged her and said, “We’re home.”

She shivered and rubbed her hands briskly over her arms. “Guess I should have worn a coat instead of my shawl tonight. The quilt kept my legs warm, but not the upper half of my body. I can almost taste the cold.”

“Never heard it put quite that way before.” He smiled. “If the weather keeps getting colder, we’ll soon have snow.”

“Maybe you should forget about your plans to go fishing with Abe tomorrow,” Ruth said. “I sure wouldn’t want to fish in weather this chilly.”

“Abe promised Gideon he could go, and I’m looking forward to it, as well.”

She shrugged. Truth was, she’d hoped she and Martin could spend his day off together—maybe get the house organized.

Martin hopped down from the buggy, then came around to Ruth’s side and helped her down. “I’ll get an armload of wood and bring it up to the house as soon as I put the horse away. It’ll be good to have a nice warm fire this evening.”

“Okay. See you inside.” Ruth sprinted to the house, where she lit the gas lamps to dispel the darkness. It was almost as chilly inside as it was outside, so she grabbed a dahlia-patterned quilt from the sofa and wrapped it around her shoulders, then took a seat.

The gas lamps sputtered and hissed but brought her no warmth. “What we need is a fire,” she murmured.

Martin entered the house a short time later, but his hands were empty.

“Where’s the wood you said you would bring in?” she asked.

He shrugged, then shook his head. “It’s gone.”

“How can it be gone?”

“I don’t know, but it is—every last piece.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Did you look all around?”

He nodded. “There was no wood in sight, but I did see some large tire marks near where the pile used to be. I think whoever took it might have been driving a truck.”

Ruth’s heart pounded. “Oh, Martin, you don’t suppose whoever took it is the same person who did all the horrible things at my folks’ place, do you?”

Martin took a seat on the sofa beside her. “More than likely it’s one of my friends—maybe the same ones who blew up the outhouse at our wedding.” He touched her hand. “It’ll probably be back by morning.”

“Maybe we should go see Dad and tell him what’s happened.”

“What good would that do?”

“He’s the one who gave us the wood. It’s only right that he knows it was stolen.”

Martin shook his head. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?”

He squeezed her fingers. “I’m your husband now. It’s my job to look out for you. Besides, your daed didn’t seem to care much about
the attacks that were done at his place. What makes you think he’ll care that our wood was taken?”

Ruth’s mouth dropped open. She’d never expected to hear her husband speak out against her father, and she told him so.

“I’m not speaking against him. I’m just stating facts.”

Ruth folded her arms and stared straight ahead. “I think he does care about the attacks. He’s just chosen to turn the other cheek and trust God to protect our family.” She pursed her lips. “I think he has the right to know that the wood he gave us is gone.”

“Maybe so, but it can wait until morning.”

She shivered. “But I’m cold.”

“Then let’s go to bed and get warm under the quilts.”

“You can go to bed if you want to,” she said, rising to her feet.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve got work to do in the kitchen.”

“What kind of work?”

“We’ve still got boxes that need to be unloaded and put away.”

“They’ll be there in the morning, Ruth.”

“I want to do them now.”

“It’s too cold in here to be milling about the kitchen. Let’s turn off the gas lamps and head upstairs to bed.”

Ruth was tempted to argue, but she didn’t want the two of them to spend the night mad at each other. Besides, Martin was right—they could empty boxes in the morning. Maybe by then the wood would be back.

W
hen Ruth awoke the following morning, she was surprised to feel warm air drifting through their bedroom floor vent. She rolled over and discovered that Martin was gone. Apparently he’d gotten up and built a fire. Maybe the wood had been returned.

Ruth scrambled out of bed and hurried to get dressed.

When she stepped into the kitchen a short time later, she was pleased to find a cozy fire crackling in the woodstove. Martin wasn’t in the kitchen. She hurried to put the teakettle on, and a few minutes later, steam began to rise out of the spout. The whistling kettle had a rich, comfortable sound to it, not a shrill sound as it did during the hotter summer months.

When the water was hot enough, she poured some into a cup, plopped a tea bag in, and stepped toward the table. There, she discovered a note.

Dear Ruth
,

I’ve gone fishing with Abe and Gideon. I didn’t want to wake you, so I had a piece of leftover apple pie Mom sent home with us last night. Now I’m about to head for Abe’s place. The woodpile wasn’t back when I got up, so I went over to my folks’ and got enough wood to get you by for the day. I shouldn’t be gone too late. Oh, and you might want to have the frying pan ready, because I aim to bring home a mess of fish
.

Love
,

Martin

Ruth sighed and sank into a chair at the table. She had hoped Martin might decide to stay home today on account of the cold weather. It upset her to know that whoever had taken their wood hadn’t brought it back, but it frustrated her more that Martin thought fishing was more important than helping her unload boxes.

Ruth took a sip of tea and held the warm liquid in her mouth awhile before swallowing.
Maybe I won’t unload those boxes, either. I think I’ll go visit Grace and the baby this morning. After that, I’ll stop over at Abe’s place and see how his kinner are doing
.

“Can I come, too?” Anna asked when Cleon announced during breakfast that he was going to check on his bee boxes.

Cleon shook his head and reached for his cup of coffee. “I’ll be extracting honey from the hives today, and it’s not safe for you to be around the bees.”

“But I’d like to see where all that honey comes from,” the child persisted.

“You would need to wear protective gear, and I don’t have any your size.”

Anna’s lip jutted out, but Cleon seemed to ignore her. The child looked over at Grace. “Can we do something fun after breakfast, Mama—maybe bake some cookies?”

Grace released a weary sigh. “Not today, Anna. I have to bathe the boppli, and after that I’ve got some sewing to do.”

“I could give the baby a bath while you sew.”

“Absolutely not!” Cleon shouted before Grace could respond.

“How come?”

“You’re not old enough to bathe Daniel. You might drop him or let him slip into the water, and then he could drown.”

Anna’s chin trembled, and tears gathered in her eyes.

Grace frowned. “You don’t have to scare her like that.”

“Well, it’s true,” he said with a grunt. “Anna’s barely old enough to bathe herself, and she’s sure not capable of caring for her baby brother.”

“Many Amish kinner care for their younger siblings,” Grace argued.
“That’s part of a child’s training.”

“She can learn on one of her dolls, not my child.” Cleon pushed his chair away from the table and stood. “I’ve got work to do.”

When the door clicked shut behind him, Grace patted Anna’s hand. “We’ll find something for you to do today.”

Anna poked at the last bit of eggs on her plate. “Since you’re so busy with the boppli, and Papa won’t let me help with the bees, can I visit Aunt Martha? Maybe I can help feed the dogs.”

Grace nodded. “As soon as you’ve finished your breakfast.” She figured having Anna out of the house might be better for her, too. Ever since Daniel had been born, Grace had felt irritable and depressed. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Cleon seemed so overprotective of the baby and hadn’t spent much time with Anna. Grace had tried talking to him on several occasions, but he always said there wasn’t a problem, despite the fact that his relationship with Anna seemed to be going downhill.

After Grace had bundled Anna into a warm jacket, she herded her to the door. “I’ll watch you from the porch to be sure you make it to Grandma and Grandpa’s.”

“I’ll be fine, Mama.”

“Just the same, I’ll feel better when I see that you’ve made it there safely.”

Anna shrugged and took off at a run.

Grace couldn’t see the back side of her folks’ place from the first house Cleon had built for them, but from their new house, Grace was able to see all the way down the driveway.

Leaning on the porch rail, she watched until Anna entered her folks’ house, then she stepped back into the warmth of her kitchen. She shouldn’t have to worry about her daughter’s safety right here on their own property. It wasn’t right that everything they did, everywhere they went, she had to be anxious about whether another attack would occur.

Grace tiptoed into the baby’s room and was relieved when she found him asleep. His baby breath smelled sweet, and he looked ever so peaceful, sleeping on his side with his little thumb stuck in his mouth. She leaned over the crib and kissed Daniel’s downy head.
Bless
my baby, Lord. Bless Anna and Cleon, too
.