“I’m not interested in making pies.” Ruth plucked her coat off the wall peg and slipped her arms into the sleeves.
She was about to head out the door when Martha called, “Where are you headed?”
“I’m going for a walk. I need some fresh air.”
“Would you like me to go along?”
“No thanks.” Ruth stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
Mom looked over at Martha and frowned. “It’s good to see her up and dressed, but I don’t like the way she’s acting. I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to be out walking in the cold by herself.”
“I’ll go with her, even if she doesn’t want the company.” Martha wiped her floury hands on a clean dish towel, grabbed her coat, and rushed out the door. She hurried down the stairs and spotted Ruth tromping through the snowy yard. “Ruth, wait up,” she called.
Ruth kept walking.
“Where are you going?”
No reply; just the
crunch, crunch, crunch
of Ruth’s footfalls in the snow.
Martha picked up speed. “It’s cold out here,” she said, taking hold of Ruth’s arm. “You should come back inside where it’s warm.”
Ruth halted. “I am not cold. I don’t want company.”
“What if you become weak and faint, like you did the day of the funeral?”
Ruth’s chin trembled, and her eyes glistened with tears.
“I know you’re hurting,” Martha said, carefully choosing her words, “but you can’t keep your feelings bottled up forever.”
“Thanks to the one who rammed our buggy, I’ll never have any children.” Ruth placed her hand against her belly, and Martha could see the anguish in her sister’s eyes.
“When I first realized that Flo couldn’t have any puppies, I was upset. But then I figured there were other things Flo could do, so—”
“Oh, please. I can’t believe you’re comparing me to a dog! Flo being unable to have puppies is nothing like my situation.”
“I just wanted you to see that your sense of self-worth shouldn’t be centered around whether or not you can have bopplin. God spared your life, and someday, when your pain has subsided, you’ll realize that God has a purpose for you.”
Ruth shrugged and started walking toward the phone shed near the end of their driveway.
“Are you planning to make a phone call?”
Ruth halted and whirled around. “If you must know, I’m going to phone Sheriff Osborn.”
“What for?”
“I’m going to tell him who I think rammed our buggy on Christmas Eve.”
“You saw who did it?”
“No, but I’ve figured it out.” Ruth clenched and unclenched her fingers, and she began to shiver.
“Who do you think rammed your buggy?”
“Luke. He has a truck he keeps hidden in the woods. I’m sure the vehicle that hit our buggy was a truck.”
Martha’s heart pounded. “Luke has a truck?”
Ruth nodded. “He confessed it to me shortly before we broke up, and I promised not to tell anyone.” She grunted. “I was stupid. I
should have told Dad or the bishop right away. Dad thinks Luke’s the one responsible for the other things that have been done to us. I’m sure he’ll want to do something about it when I tell him I believe it was Luke who rammed our buggy.”
“Don’t you think you should talk to Luke first—find out what he has to say about it?”
“No. I want to tell the sheriff. I’m sure he. . .” Ruth’s voice faltered, and she swayed unsteadily on her feet.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Martha grabbed Ruth’s arm. “Please don’t tell Dad or the sheriff that you think it was Luke who rammed your buggy.”
“Why not?”
“Even if it was a truck that hit the buggy, you have no proof it belonged to Luke. Please don’t say anything to anyone about your suspicions until I’ve had a chance to speak with Luke.”
“I. . .I don’t know. . . .” Ruth’s face had turned as pale as the snow. “Oh, I feel so light-headed.” She wobbled and sank to her knees.
“I’ll get Dad!” Martha raced to the woodworking shop and jerked open the door. “Ruth’s fallen in the snow!”
Dad dropped the hunk of wood he’d been holding, and Cleon left the cabinets he’d been sanding. They rushed out the door. A few seconds later, Cleon lifted Ruth into his arms and carried her toward the house.
“What were you two doing out here in the cold?” Dad asked, giving Martha a stern look. “Haven’t you got better sense than to go traipsing through the snow with a sister who’s only been out of the hospital a few weeks?”
Martha blew out her breath. “We weren’t traipsing, Dad. Ruth came down from her bedroom a while ago, and when she said she needed some fresh air, I went after her.” Martha thought it best not to mention the reason for her sister’s trek through the snow. If Dad had any idea Ruth thought Luke was responsible for their accident, he’d be all over the poor fellow, trying to get him to fess up.
Martha pursed her lips as she made a decision. The first chance she had, she would talk to Luke.
I
s Ruth feeling better now, Papa?” Esta asked as she turned in her seat at the front of the buggy.
“I hope so, daughter. It’s been three weeks since the accident, and I’m hoping she’ll feel up to some company.”
“I’m glad you waited until Saturday when I wasn’t in school to visit Ruth,” Esta said, grinning at him. “But I wish you woulda let me bring Winkie along.”
Abe shook his head. “I’m not sure Ruth will be up to having that much excitement today. You know how crazy Winkie can get when he’s excited to see someone.”
Esta giggled. “When Bishop King came by to pick up that harness you made for him last week, Winkie got so excited, he piddled on his boot.”
“That wasn’t a good thing,” he said, giving Esta a sidelong glance. Truth was, Bishop King had asked for the accident since he’d gotten the dog riled up when he first arrived.
“Josh was mad ’cause he couldn’t come with us today.”
“I explained to him and the other kinner that I thought it might be too much if we all barged in on Ruth. Maybe later, after she’s had more time to recuperate from her injuries, we can all pay her a visit.”
Esta’s forehead wrinkled. “I heard Aunt Sue talkin’ to Ruth’s sister Martha the other day. They were sayin’ that Ruth can’t have no bopplin. Is that true, Papa?”
Abe nodded. “Ruth had some serious injuries that required surgery and left her unable to have children.”
“That’s a shame. I know for a fact that Ruth likes kinner and wants to be a mudder; she told me so.”
“Some things aren’t meant to be.”
Esta sat with her lips pursed. Finally, she looked over at Abe and said, “You think you’ll ever get married again, Papa?”
“What makes you ask such a question?”
She shrugged her slim shoulders. “I was just thinkin’ that since you don’t have no fraa anymore, and Ruth don’t have no
mann
, maybe the two of you could get married. Then she could be our mamm and wouldn’t feel sad ’cause she can’t have no bopplin.”
Abe’s jaw clenched. Just the idea of his replacing Alma with another wife made him feel unfaithful to her memory. And married to Ruth Gingerich of all people! Why, the woman was a good ten years younger than him! Besides, she’d been married to his good friend and loyal worker. That just didn’t seem right to Abe.
“Papa, did ya hear what I said?” Esta asked, nudging Abe’s arm.
“I’m not looking for a wife right now, and it’s way too soon for Ruth to even be thinking about marriage again.”
“Maybe someday?”
“Esta, girl, if the good Lord desires for me to find another wife, then He’ll have to drop her right in my lap.”
Ruth was lying on the sofa, reading a book, when Mom entered the living room with Abe and Esta Wengerd. “You’ve got company, daughter.”
Ruth set the book aside and pulled herself to a sitting position, tucking in the quilt draped over her legs.
“It’s good to see you,” Abe said as he and Esta took seats in the chairs across from Ruth.
“How are you feelin’, Ruth?” Esta asked in a near whisper.
Ruth shrugged.
“Abe, would you care for something to eat?” Mom asked. “I baked some gingerbread this morning, and it should be plenty cool by now.”
“Danki, that’d be nice,” he replied.
“How about you?” Mom smiled at Esta. “Would you like a glass of
milk and a hunk of gingerbread?”
Esta nodded with an eager expression. “Sounds real good.”
Mom turned to Ruth. “Would you care for some gingerbread?”
“No thanks; I’m not hungry.”
“How about a cup of tea?”
“That would be fine.”
“Would you like some tea, Abe?” Mom asked.
“I’ve never had much appreciation for tea, but a glass of milk would suit me just fine.”
Mom reached out her hand toward Esta. “Would you like to help me whip up some cream in the kitchen?”
“Can I lick the bowl?”
“Jah, sure. Martha usually licks the bowls around here, but since she’s gone on an errand this morning, you can take over her job.”
“Can I go up to Anna’s house and see if she wants some gingerbread, too?”
“If it’s all right with your daed, it’s fine by me.”
Abe gave a quick nod. “Be sure you put your coat on.”
“I will.” Esta skipped out the door behind Mom, leaving Ruth alone in the room with Abe.
He leaned slightly forward in his chair. “I. . .uh, know what it’s like to lose a mate, so I think I have a pretty good understanding of what you must be feeling right now.”
Ruth gave no response.
“Losing Alma hurt more than words can tell.” Abe stared at his clasped hands. “But God’s been with me every day since Alma died, and He’s given me the strength to get through it.”
“Does it help to know that she died from a freak act of nature and not because someone killed her in a senseless attack?”
He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “What?”
“Whoever rammed our buggy did it on purpose,” Ruth mumbled, barely able to speak around the lump lodged in her throat. “It was no accident.”
“Maybe the driver of the vehicle hit a patch of ice. Could be he just lost control.”
Ruth gulped down a sob that threatened to erupt. “The person
who killed Martin and left me unable to have children rammed our buggy six times!”
“Does the sheriff have any idea who might be responsible? I mean, is he conducting an investigation?”
Ruth thought about her attempt to phone the sheriff. She would have tried again if Martha hadn’t begged her to wait until she’d spoken with Luke herself. Well, if Martha didn’t find out something soon, Ruth was going to let the sheriff know her suspicions whether Martha liked it or not!
“I don’t know what the sheriff thinks,” she said in answer to Abe’s question. “He asked me all kinds of questions about the accident and said he would be checking things out.” She sighed. “I’ve not heard anything since.”
“I guess investigations take time.”
She grunted. “If the sheriff had kept a closer eye on things like he said he was going to do, maybe the culprit would have been caught by now.”
Abe drummed his fingers along the arms of his chair. “With no husband to support you, I know it’s going to be hard for you financially.”
“I can’t stay in the house Martin and I rented,” Ruth said, feeling the agony of her bitterness weighing her down. “My folks don’t mind me staying here, and since Dad’s willing to support me for as long as I need his help, I guess I’ll manage.”
“What about your hospital bills? I know you’ll need help with those.”
She nodded. “Some of it has already been taken care of through the community fund. Dad says there’s been talk of a benefit auction to raise the rest of the money.”
Abe drew in a deep breath as he pulled his fingers through the ends of his reddish-brown beard. “Martin was a good friend. I miss seeing his smiling face when I come to work each day.”
Not nearly as much as I miss him every night
, Ruth thought regrettably. “Have you hired anyone to take his place?” she asked.
“Jah. Ivan Schrock.”
“I see.”
Mom stepped into the room just then carrying a tray, which she
placed on the narrow table near the sofa.
“Where’s my daughter?” Abe asked.
“She and Anna are out in the kitchen having their snack at the table.” Mom handed Abe a plate of gingerbread. “Those girls have been chattering ever since they got back from Grace and Cleon’s.”