A Sister's Secret

by Brunstetter, Wanda E. ;

  Cleon thought again about the break-ins that had occurred at the Hostettlers’ and wondered if they’d been isolated incidents or if the family might have been singled out. He needed to have a talk with Roman as he’d promised Grace he would do.

  “Mind if we stop by the Hostettlers’ before we go home?” he asked his brother. “I want to speak with Roman about those break-ins.”

  Ivan shrugged. “Makes no never mind to me. Maybe the brothers will do our chores if we don’t get home on time.”

  Cleon grunted. “Jah, right. That’s about as likely as a heat wave in the middle of January.”

  “It’s past quitting time,” Roman said when Luke returned to the shop after loading some cabinets for Ray Larson, their nearest English neighbor. “You’re free to go whenever you want.”

  “You sure about that? We’ve still got several pieces of furniture that need fixing.”

  “They can wait until tomorrow. We’ve both put in a long day, and I’m exhausted.”

  Luke nodded. “I’m kind of tired myself.”

  “Sure was nice of John Peterson to come by this afternoon and loan us some tools,” Roman said as he put a final coat of stain on a straight-backed chair.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I mentioned your break-in to John when I went home for lunch and found him visiting my daed.” Luke nodded toward the shelf where the hammer and saw lay that John had dropped by shortly after lunch.

  “Why would I mind?”

  “I know you don’t want the incident reported to the sheriff, so I figured you might not want anyone else knowing about it, either.”

  Roman shrugged. “We live in a small community, and I’ve told some of my Amish neighbors. I’m sure the news would have gotten out soon enough.”

  Luke opened his mouth as if to comment, but the shop door opened, and Martha rushed into the room, interrupting their conversation.

  “Dad, you’ll never believe what happened a few minutes ago!”

  A look of fear covered his daughter’s face. “What is it, Martha? What’s happened?”

  “I was in the kitchen getting supper started, and a brick flew right through the window.”

  “What?” Roman dropped the rag he’d been using to stain the chair and hurried to her side. “Are you all right? Did the brick hit you?”

  “I’m okay. It just shook me up a bit.”

  “Did you see who did it?” Luke asked.

  Martha shook her head. “I ran outside right away, but whoever threw the brick must have been a fast runner, because no one was in sight.” She lifted the straw hat in her hand. “I went out to the barn to check on Heidi and her pups and found this lying on the ground outside the barn door.”

  Luke grabbed hold of the hat. “That’s mine. I must have dropped it as I was putting my horse in the corral when I got here this morning.”

  “Are you sure you weren’t wearing it when you went outside to load those cabinets for Ray? Maybe you dropped it then.”

  “I’m sure I didn’t have it on.” Luke plunked the hat on his head. “Want me to take a look around the place before I head home? Maybe whoever threw the brick is still lurkin’ about.”

  Roman groaned. “I’m guessing the culprit took off like a shot as soon as that brick hit the window.”

  “I believe you’re right, Dad.” Martha touched his arm. “I know you won’t press charges, but don’t you think it’s time to notify the sheriff?”

  He shook his head. “Psalm 46:1 says, ‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.’”

  “If someone’s out to get us—and it seems like they are—I’m worried that the next attack could be worse.” Martha’s chin trembled. “If this keeps up, someone’s likely to get hurt.”

  The truth of her words sliced through Roman like a knife. The thought of someone in his family getting hurt gave him the chills, but he had to keep believing and trusting that God would protect his family. He was about to say so when his shop door opened again and in walked Cleon and his brother Ivan.

  “I see you made it back from Montana,” Roman said. “Did you have a good trip?”

  Cleon nodded. “We got back last night.” He glanced around the room and grimaced. “Grace stopped by our place on her way to work and told me about the break-ins that happened at your house last week and then here this morning.”

  “Make that three acts of vandalism,” Martha said. “Someone tossed a brick through our kitchen window a short time ago.”

  Cleon’s mouth dropped open. “Was anyone hurt?”

  Martha shook her head. “Sure scared me, though.”

  “Any idea who could have done these things?”

  Roman shrugged. “I’m guessing it’s some rowdy fellows—maybe the same ones who dumped over those outhouses near Kidron.”

  “I heard a couple of cows got tipped over awhile back in Bishop King’s field,” Ivan put in. “One of the bishop’s sons saw some English fellows running through their land, so he’s pretty sure it was them who pushed the cows over.”

  “Dumping outhouses and pushing over cows doesn’t compare to breaking into someone’s home or place of business,” Cleon said. “Makes me wonder if someone has a grudge against you. What do you think, Roman?”

  Roman contemplated Cleon’s question a few seconds. He guessed there might be a few people who weren’t too happy with him right now: Luke, because Roman had docked his pay; Steven, because his wife’s birthday pre sent had been ruined; and Bill Collins, because Roman refused to sell his land. Even so, he didn’t think any of them would resort to vandalism. Of course, he didn’t know the land developer personally, so he guessed it might be possible that the determined fellow could resort to scare tactics in order to get Roman to agree to his terms.

  “What does the sheriff have to say about all this?” Cleon asked, breaking into Roman’s swirling thoughts.

  “Haven’t told him,” Roman muttered, staring at the floor where a blob of stain still lingered.

  “How come?” The question came from Ivan this time.

  “Saw no need. I wouldn’t press charges even if we knew who’d done it. I’m turning the other cheek and relying on God’s protection, like the Bible says we should.”

  Cleon leaned against Roman’s desk. “Has anyone else in the community been bothered?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “If we hear that anyone has, what will you do?” Martha asked.

  “I’ll get with the others, and we’ll have a talk with our church leaders and see how they think it should be handled.” Roman put his arm around his daughter’s trembling shoulders. “In the meantime, we need to be more watchful while we pray for God’s protection over our friends and family.”

  Chapter 13

  Grace awoke the following morning with another pounding headache. Hearing about Martha’s scare with the flying brick had about done her in, and she’d gone to bed early.

  With great effort, she pulled herself out of bed and padded over to the window. It was a sunny day, yet she felt as if a dark rain cloud hung over her head—the whole house, really. She continued to struggle with the need to tell her folks she suspected Gary might be out for revenge. However, her fear of them finding out about her previous life kept her from saying anything.

  Grace moved away from the window, frustration bubbling in her chest. Maybe it would be best either to tell Gary what she suspected or to ask him to leave Holmes County. She clenched her fists and held her arms tightly against her sides. Unless Gary had changed, it wasn’t likely that he would be willing to leave the area simply because she asked him to. If he could be cruel enough to break into her home, what else might he be capable of doing?

  A knock on the bedroom door brought Grace’s thoughts to a halt. “Mom has breakfast ready, and we’re going to be late for work if we don’t eat soon,” Ruth called from the other side of the door.

  “I’ll be down in a minute.” Grace didn’t feel up to going to work, but she didn’t want
to leave her employer shorthanded. Besides, the only chance she had of seeing Gary was in town.

  She hurried to get washed and dressed, then took two aspirins for her headache and headed downstairs.

  “Are you okay, Grace?” Mom asked, turning from her place at the stove and squinting. “You look awful mied this morning. Didn’t you sleep well?”

  Grace went to the refrigerator and removed a quart of grape juice. “I am a bit tired, and I woke up with a headache, but I’ll be okay.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Ruth, who had been setting the table, clicked her tongue. “Your face is paler than a bed-sheet, sister.”

  “Maybe you’re coming down with that achy-bones flu that was going around,” Mom said with a look of concern. “Might be good if you stayed home and rested today.”

  Grace shook her head. “I’ll be fine once I’ve had some breakfast.” She glanced around the room. “Where are Dad and Martha?”

  “Your daed’s still out doing his chores, and Martha went to check on Fritz, Heidi, and the hundlin.”

  “Those two dogs and the puppies are all our little sister thinks about anymore.” Ruth’s forehead wrinkled. “What she needs is a boyfriend.”

  “Martha’s only eighteen.” Mom broke a couple of eggs into the frying pan and glanced over her shoulder. “She has plenty of time to find the right man.”

  Ruth placed the last glass on the table and turned to face Grace, who was pouring juice into each of the glasses. “I guess what Mom says is true. Look at how long it took you to find a man and decide to get married.”

  Grace winced, even though she was sure Ruth wasn’t trying to be mean. What would my family say if they knew my secret? How would Cleon deal with things if he knew? Is it time to tell him the truth?

  The back door flew open, and Martha rushed into the room. Her lips were compressed, and her eyes looked huge. “The pups are all alone in their box crying for their mamm’s milk, and I couldn’t find Heidi anywhere.” She hurried over to their mother. “What am I going to do? Those puppies are too young to make it on their own.”

  Mom pushed the frying pan to the back of the stove. “Calm down and take a deep breath. I’m sure Heidi is somewhere nearby. Probably just needed a break from her pups, or maybe she went outside to do her business.”

  “Mom’s right,” Grace put in. “Heidi will return to her puppies soon; you’ll see.”

  “Are you sure you’re up to going to work today?” Ruth asked again when she noticed how Grace was gripping the buggy reins with clenched fingers and a determined set to her jaw. She didn’t know which sister to be the most concerned about this morning—Grace, who looked like she should be home in bed, or Martha, who had refused to eat breakfast so she could hunt for her missing dog.

  “I need to go to work,” Grace said with a nod.

  “You could have gone to the phone shed to let your boss know you weren’t feeling well.”

  “My headache’s eased some, and I saw no need to stay home. Besides, it would have left them shorthanded at the restaurant, and I know from experience how hard that can be on the other waitresses.”

  Grace stared straight ahead, gripping the reins so tightly that the veins on the back of her hands stood out.

  “You’ve been acting awful strange for the past couple of weeks. Is it the trouble we’ve had at our place that has you so engschderich?” Ruth questioned.

  “I’m not anxious, just concerned.”

  “We all are.”

  “First the break-in at the house, followed by Dad’s shop being vandalized. Then a brick thrown that could have hit Martha, and now her dog is missing.”

  “I’m sure Heidi’s not really missing. I’ll bet by the time we get home from work Martha will be all smiles because Heidi’s back in her box with the puppies again.”

  “Maybe so, but that won’t undo what’s already been done.” Grace’s voice cracked as she guided the horse to the side of the road.

  “Why are we stopping? Aren’t you worried we’ll be late for work?”

  “I need to tell you something, but you must promise not to repeat to anyone what I’m about to say.” Grace’s blue eyes flickered, and her chin quivered slightly. “Do I have your word on this?”

  Ruth gave a quick nod as she reached over to squeeze her sister’s hand. She couldn’t imagine what Grace might tell her that she didn’t want to have repeated.

  Grace leaned forward and massaged her forehead. “You know that reporter in town?”

  “The one who says he’s doing stories on the Amish here and has been asking all kinds of questions?”

  “Jah.”

  “What about him?”

  “His name is Gary Walker, and I went out with him for a while when I first moved away. It was during a time when I lived in Cincinnati.”

  “You … you did?”

  “Jah. I thought he was cute and fun at first, but then he started acting like he owned me.” Grace lifted her head, and when she looked over at Ruth, tears filled her eyes. “Gary had a temper, and when I refused to go out with him anymore, he said I would be sorry and that he’d make me pay for breaking up with him.”

  Ruth let her sister’s words sink in. If the reporter had been angry because Grace broke up with him, was it possible that he’d come here to make good on his threat? “Oh, Grace, do you think he might be the one responsible for the damage that has been done at our place?”

  Grace nodded. “If I see him in town today, I’m going to ask if he’s the one.”

  “Maybe it would be best if I’m with you when you speak to him.”

  Grace picked up the reins and gave them a snap. “I appreciate your concern, but this is something I must do alone.”

  Throughout Grace’s workday, she kept an eye out for Gary, but he never came into the restaurant, and she didn’t notice him outside whenever she looked out the window. Maybe he’d gone to one of the nearby towns to do his research. Or maybe he’d left the area altogether. She hoped that was so, but a niggling feeling told her otherwise. If Gary had come to Holmes County to make her pay for running off with Wade, then he probably wasn’t done with her yet.

  By the time Grace got off work, her headache had returned. She was glad she’d told Ruth that she would walk over to the bakeshop after work. It would give her time to think. She hoped the fresh fall air would help clear the throbbing in her head, as well.

  She’d only made it halfway there when someone called her name. She whirled around and spotted Gary leaning against an Amish buggy parked next to the curb.

  Grace’s heart pounded so hard she felt it pulsate in her head as she made her way over to where he stood. I’ve got to do this. I need to confront him now.

  “Hey, Gracie,” he said with a lopsided grin. “Haven’t seen you around in a while. Have you changed your mind about going out with me?”

  Grace shook her head vigorously. “I’m surprised to see that you’re still in Holmes County. I figured you would have enough information to write ten stories about the Amish by now.”

  He chuckled. “You’re right. I do. But I’ve decided to stick around the area awhile longer and do a couple of stories about some of the events that will be taking place here, as well as in Wayne and Tuscarawas counties, during the next few months.”

  “The next few months? How can you afford to stay here that long?”

  “My granddaddy died six months ago and left me a bundle.” He winked at her. “So I’ve got enough money to stay here as long as I want.”

  “If he left you so much, then why do you have to work at all?”

  “Let’s just say I enjoy the work that I’ve chosen to do. It makes me feel in the know.”

  She tipped her head. “Are you really a freelance reporter?”

  “Of course.” He lifted the camera hanging from the strap around his shoulder. “Is it so hard to believe I’m gainfully employed?”

  Grace shrugged. When they had been teenagers, Gary had been kind of lazy. While the other ki
ds they’d hung around with all had jobs, he’d been content to take money from his dad, who seemed to have more than he needed. It was hard to imagine Gary holding down any kind of job—much less working on his own as a photographer and reporter. Of course, some people changed when they matured. Grace was living proof of that.

  “So, how about the two of us going somewhere for a cup of coffee?” Gary asked.

  “I told you before that I’m—”

  “I know. I know. You’re soon to be married.”

  “Jah.”

  “Jah? What’s this jah stuff, Gracie? I’m English, remember? So I’d appreciate it if when we’re together you would speak English.”

  “Sorry,” Grace mumbled. She was losing her nerve, and if she didn’t say what was on her mind soon, she might never say it. “Some … uh … unusual things have been going on at our place lately. I’m wondering what you know about it.”

  His forehead creased. “If you’re trying to say something, Gracie, then spit it out and quit croaking like a frog.”

  She glanced around to be sure no one was listening. “The thing is … we’ve had a problem with—”

  “With what? What kind of problem are you having?”

  She felt his hot breath blowing against her face and took a step back. “Someone broke into our house a week ago, and then yesterday morning my dad discovered that his woodworking shop had been ransacked.” She paused to gauge his reaction, but he simply stared at her with a stoic expression. “As if that wasn’t enough, someone threw a brick through our kitchen window while my youngest sister was fixing supper last night, and this morning, one of her dogs went missing.”

  A muscle in the side of Gary’s face quivered slightly, but he said nothing.

  “Do you know anything about this?”

  He shook his head. “What kind of crazy question is that? How would I know anything about some break-ins at your place?”