A Sister's Hope

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  When she stepped into the barn, she brushed the snow off her jacket and started for the kennels.

  Woof! Woof! Fritz bounded up to Martha, planting both paws on her knees.

  “Fritz! What are you doing out of your cage again?” Martha gently pushed the dog to the floor.

  The sheltie responded with another loud bark and a couple of wags of his tail.

  “Come on, boy. Let’s get you back to your cage.” Martha headed in the direction of the kennels with Fritz at her side. When she arrived at his cage, she halted. The door hung wide open.

  “I can’t believe this,” she groaned. “How are you managing to get that latch undone?”

  Fritz stared up at her with sorrowful brown eyes and released a pathetic whimper. Was it possible that he’d figured out a way to open the door to his cage, or could someone have let the dog out on purpose? But if that were so, then why only Fritz and not the rest of her dogs?

  Martha put Fritz back in his cage, closed the door, and waited to see what he would do. Fritz gave a friendly wag of his tail and scurried off to his doghouse.

  “Of course you’re not going to do anything while I’m standing here.” Anxious to finish her chores in the barn so she could speak to her father, Martha hurried through the feeding process. When that was done, she returned to the house.

  “You’re right on time,” Mom said as Martha stepped into the kitchen. “I just started putting breakfast on the table. Since it’s so cold and snowy this morning, I fixed a big pot of oatmeal.”

  Martha removed her coat and hung it on a wall peg near the back door. “That’s good to hear. I’m hungry and more than ready to eat.” She hurried across the room and washed her hands at the sink.

  Dad looked up from where he sat, reading the morning newspaper. “How’d it go in the barn? Did you get the dogs all fed and watered?”

  “The feeding went okay, but I found Fritz out of his cage again.” Martha flopped into the chair opposite him. “It makes no sense how he keeps getting out.”

  “Did you close and latch the cage doors last night?” Mom asked.

  “Jah, of course. I even checked them twice to be sure.”

  “Maybe Fritz has figured out a way to unlatch his door.” Dad folded his paper and set it aside. “Some animals, even the smaller breeds, can be real clever when it comes to things like that.”

  “Fritz may be clever, but he’s never gotten out of his cage until recently.”

  “Here’s the oatmeal,” Mom announced.

  As soon as Mom was seated at the table and their silent prayer was done, Martha said, “I’m thinking of sleeping in the barn for a couple of nights.”

  “Why would you want to do that?” Mom asked.

  “So I can keep an eye on things—see how Fritz is getting out of his cage.”

  “That’s just plain narrisch. It’s too cold to be sleeping in the barn,” Dad said with furrowed brows.

  “Your daed’s right; sleeping in the barn in the dead of winter would be a foolish thing to do,” Mom agreed.

  “But I’ve got to find out if Fritz is escaping on his own or if someone is sneaking into our barn during the night and letting him out.”

  Mom blinked a couple of times. “You think someone’s doing it on purpose?”

  “Don’t be lecherich,” Dad said. “I’ve been locking the barn at night, so there’s no way someone could be sneaking in. Besides, I’ve got a hunch we don’t have to worry about being under attack anymore.”

  “What makes you think that?” Martha asked.

  “When Ray and I were in Millersburg yesterday, I had him drop me off at the newspaper so I could talk to Gary Walker about that article he wrote about you and your kennel business.”

  “You spoke with that reporter fellow?” Mom’s eyes were huge.

  He shook his head. “Never got the chance. The young woman at the front desk gave me some very good news.”

  “What?” Martha asked.

  “Said Gary had taken a job at some newspaper in Redding, California.” Dad took a drink from his coffee mug. “Guess he’s been gone a week already.”

  “I’m glad to hear Gary’s left Holmes County again, and I’m sure Grace will be, too,” Martha said. “But isn’t it possible that someone else is responsible and that they’ve been getting into the barn through the hayloft?”

  Mom’s mouth dropped open, and Dad’s forehead wrinkled. “You think someone’s climbing a ladder and coming in the small window leading from the outside to the barn?”

  Martha nodded. “I think it’s a possibility.”

  He shook his head and grunted. “No way! It would take a tall ladder to reach that window, and I keep all my ladders inside the barn.”

  “Maybe whoever’s doing it brings his own ladder.”

  “Now that is lecherich,” Dad said with a snicker. “What reason would anyone have for sneaking into our barn through the hayloft in the middle of a cold, snowy night and releasing one of your dogs?”

  “I don’t know, but Fritz getting out of his cage has me worried, and I won’t rest until I know how he’s been getting out.”

  “Well, you’re not sleeping in the barn,” Dad asserted. “So if you’re done talking about this, I need to get out to my temporary shop and get some work done.”

  “Speaking of your shop,” Mom said. “I was wondering when you think you’ll build a new one.”

  “In the spring, after the snow’s all gone.” He grunted. “I’ll be glad to get out of that smelly barn. I get tired of hearing Martha’s dogs yapping from their kennels.”

  “I can understand that, and—”

  Martha tuned out her parents’ conversation as she continued to mull over her problem with Fritz. If she couldn’t sleep in the barn, she’d have to come up with some other way to find out how he’d been getting out of his kennel.

  Luke had just stepped away from the checkout stand inside the hardware store in Berlin when he spotted Toby entering the store.

  “What are you doing here?” Toby asked as Luke approached. “Shouldn’t you be at John’s place by now?”

  Before Luke could reply, Toby added, “Or did you get fired from that job, too?”

  Luke clenched his fingers. Why did Toby find it necessary to say cutting things every time they saw each other? “For your information, I’m still working for John.” He lifted the paper sack in his hands. “And I came here to get a few things he needed before I head to work. What are you doing here so early? Shouldn’t you be at Kiem Lumber by now?”

  “I don’t have to be to work until ten today,” Toby said. “I came to town to buy a new pair of work gloves.”

  “Did your old ones wear out from lifting all that heavy lumber at work?”

  “Nope. I lost ’em, that’s what.”

  Luke stared at his used-to-be friend. “You lost your work gloves and came all the way to Berlin to get a new pair?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t they provide you with gloves at the lumber store?”

  “Jah, sure, but this is the second pair I’ve lost in the last month, and my boss said if I lost another, I’d have to buy my own.”

  “I see.”

  “First I lost both gloves when I left ’em lying on a stack of lumber.” Toby squinted. “Then the other day, one of my new gloves came up missing.”

  “It did, huh?”

  “That’s right.” Toby snickered. “Sadie says she never realized how forgetful I was until we got married. Maybe it’s ’cause I’ve got a lot more on my mind now that I have a wife to provide for.”

  Luke nodded. Was it possible that Toby had cut Roman’s fence? Could that have been his glove Martha found near the fence? He was tempted to say something but changed his mind. No point in alerting his used-to-be friend that he was on to him. Not until he had some clear-cut evidence.

  Roman had just lit the gas lamps in his shop, when the door opened and clicked shut. Figuring it was probably Cleon, he called over his shoulder, “Guder
mariye. You can begin sanding that chair my sister ordered if you want.”

  “I don’t know anything about a chair your sister ordered, but I’d like to have a word with you,” a deep male voice said.

  Roman whirled around. Just inside the door stood the pushy land developer who’d come around a few years back, asking to buy Roman’s property.

  “Remember me?” the man asked. “My name’s Bill Collins, and I—”

  “I know who you are. I thought you’d left Holmes County for good.”

  “I was gone for a time, but now I’m back, looking to purchase more land in this area.”

  Roman grimaced. In the area. . .out of the area. What was up with this man, anyway? For that matter, Gary Walker had been in and out of Holmes County a few times in the last couple of years, too. Didn’t anyone stay put anymore?

  “What do you want with me, Mr. Collins?” he asked.

  “I was hoping you had changed your mind about selling and were ready to reconsider my offer to buy your property.”

  Roman folded his arms as he shook his head. “I wasn’t interested when you came around before, and I’m not interested now.”

  Bill raked his fingers through the sides of his salt-and-pepper hair and plastered a smile on his face. “I heard while I was gone that there was some trouble around here.”

  A muscle on the side of Roman’s face began to pulsate, but he made no comment.

  “Heard you were the victim of some vandalism and other attacks.” Bill took a step forward. “Guess some of them were pretty bad, too.”

  Roman grunted. Was this pushy man trying to intimidate him? Did Bill Collins think he could just show up out of the blue and talk him into selling his land?

  “Here’s the set of figures I offered you before,” Bill said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper. “I’m prepared to offer you even more now.”

  “Forget it!” Roman took a seat behind his desk. “I told you then, and I’m telling you now: I’m not interested in selling.”

  Bill tapped the toe of his boot. “You strike me as a man who loves his family and wants to protect them. Am I right about that?”

  “Of course.”

  “It seems to me if someone’s out to get you, the best thing you could do for the sake of your family is to sell out and move far away from here. Go someplace where you won’t be bothered.”

  Roman’s face heated up. “Are you threatening me, Mr. Collins?”

  “Not at all. I just thought I’d bring it to your attention that if you sold your land you’d be protecting your family from further harm.” Bill placed both hands on the desk and leaned so close to Roman that he could smell the spicy aroma of the man’s aftershave. “I think you’d do well to give my offer some serious consideration, Mr. Hostettler.”

  “I won’t run from the problem. My family and I are trusting God to take care of this in His time, and I’m not selling out: plain and simple.”

  Bill snickered. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. If God was going to protect you, then why didn’t He stop all those terrible things from happening to you?”

  “How’d you know about the attacks anyway?” Roman asked, ignoring the man’s ridiculous question.

  Bill leveled him with a piercing gaze. “I have friends in the area. I also subscribe to the local newspaper, so I keep well-informed.”

  Roman cringed. Could this man be responsible for the things that have been done to us? Did Bill Collins hire someone to do them so I’d knuckle under and agree to sell him my land? I can’t let him know I’m scared, and I’m not going to be bullied into moving from here.

  He stood. “I’d appreciate it if you’d leave right now, Mr. Collins. And please, don’t come back again.”

  Bill looked at Roman as if he didn’t quite believe him. Then, with a lift of his shoulders and a muffled grunt, he sauntered out of the shop, slamming the door behind him.

  Roman moved back to his chair and sank into it with a moan. “Oh, Lord, what am I going to do?”

  On Friday night as Martha prepared for bed, she made a decision. She’d found Fritz out of his cage two more times this week and wanted some answers. Since Dad wouldn’t allow her to sleep in the barn, she’d decided to sit in a chair by her upstairs window and watch the barn with the binoculars she’d gotten for Christmas. From her upstairs room, she had the perfect view of the small outside window that led to the hayloft.

  After only a short time of sitting in front of the window, staring through the binoculars, Martha’s eyes became heavy and her arms started to ache. She flopped onto her bed with a groan. This wasn’t working as well as she’d hoped. Besides, it had started snowing again, obscuring her vision.

  Sometime later, she awoke with a start. She glanced at the clock on the table by her bed. It was almost four o’clock.

  She dressed quickly. Grabbing the flashlight she kept by her bed, she slipped quietly out of the room and tiptoed down the stairs. When she reached the bottom step, she halted, listening for any sounds coming from her parents’ bedroom. All she could hear was the steady tick, tick, tick of the living room clock mingling with Dad’s muffled snores.

  Martha hurried to the utility porch, slipped into her jacket and boots, and tied a woolen scarf around her head. Then she removed the key to the barn from the nail where it hung and stepped outside into the chilly night air. The snow swirled around her in clustered flakes, and she pulled her jacket tighter around her neck as she trudged through the snow toward the barn.

  A few minutes later, with fingers stiff from the cold, she undid the padlock and entered the barn. It was dark, and her teeth began to chatter. Even so, she knew it wasn’t a good idea to light a lantern. If Dad woke up and looked out the window, he’d probably notice the light in the barn and come to investigate.

  With trembling fingers, Martha lifted the flashlight and shined a quick beam of light around the barn. Everything seemed fine—just as it should be. Drawing in a deep breath, she made her way toward the kennels in the back of the barn. She was relieved to see that all the cage doors were shut and the dogs were sleeping in their beds.

  “Now I need to find a comfortable place to sit.” She spotted a bale of hay inside one of the empty horse stalls and decided that would have to do. It was close enough to watch the kennels, but far enough away that she could stay out of sight should someone come into the barn.

  Martha shivered as she plunked down on the hay. I should have brought an old quilt from the house. She shined the light around the stall and spotted a well-used horse blanket. It smelled like horse sweat but would help dispel the cold, and she couldn’t afford to be choosy.

  She clicked off the flashlight so she wouldn’t run the battery down and leaned against the wall behind her, wrapping the smelly blanket around her shoulders. If someone opened one of the cage doors, she was bound to hear them.

  What will I do if someone does come into the barn? I can’t very well knock them to the floor and make them tell me why they’ve been letting my dog out of his cage or ask if they’ve been vandalizing our place.

  A feeling of guilt coursed through Martha. She had not only disobeyed Dad by coming to the barn in the wee hours of the morning, but she’d been sneaking around seeing Luke without Dad’s knowledge. Maybe I shouldn’t meet Luke at Heini’s tomorrow. Maybe I should. . .

  Click. . .click. . .clang!

  Martha bolted upright.

  Squeeeak.

  Someone must have opened one of the cage doors.

  She held her breath and listened.

  Woof! Woof! She recognized Fritz’s deep bark. Woof! Woof! Woof! The other dogs chimed in.

  Martha clicked on the flashlight and shined the light on the kennels. Sure enough, Fritz was out, and his cage door hung wide open. She sent a beam of light around the area. No one was in sight. If someone had come into the barn and opened Fritz’s door, she would have heard them moving about. Besides, why would they open only Fritz’s cage door?

&nb
sp; Martha stepped out of the stall, and Fritz bounded up to her, wagging his tail. “You little stinker,” she said, bending to pat his head. “I don’t know how you’re doing it, but you’ve figured out some way to get your cage door open, haven’t you?”

  Fritz gave a couple of barks, and Heidi, the female sheltie, followed suit. Soon Polly and Beau and both sets of puppies woke up and started barking, yapping, and running around their kennels.

  “Shh. . .you’ll wake up Mom and Dad.” Martha grabbed Fritz’s collar and led him back to his kennel. Fritz looked up at her and gave a pathetic whimper.

  “You’re not getting out so you can run all over the barn,” she said with a shake of her head.

  Using the flashlight to guide her steps, Martha hurried to the other side of the barn where some tools and supplies were kept. She returned to the kennels a few minutes later with a piece of sturdy wire, which she tied around the latch on Fritz’s cage door. “That ought to hold you.”

  She shined the flashlight around the kennels one last time then hurried out of the barn. Mom would probably be up soon, and they’d need to start breakfast.

  Luke’s heart kept time to the rhythm of the horse’s hooves as he headed to Berlin in his buggy. Since it had snowed again and the roads were a bit slippery, he wasn’t sure if Martha would meet him at Heini’s or not. He’d been tempted to stop at her place and ask, but that wasn’t a good idea.

  Luke grimaced as he gripped the reins tighter. If Roman knew Martha and I had plans to go anywhere together, he’d probably pitch a fit.

  A black truck whizzed by, honking its horn and splattering wet slush across the buggy window. The horse reared up then took off on a run.

  “Whoa! Steady, boy,” Luke said as he fought to keep his gelding under control.

  The buggy wheels slipped on the snowy pavement, causing the buggy to slide first to one side and then the other. Just when Luke was sure his rig was going to tip over, the horse calmed down and started moving at a slower pace.

  Luke wished he could have driven his truck today. It would have been safer than being out on the snowy road in a buggy with a skittish horse. He only had a few days left until his dad gave the truck keys back. He was glad there’d been no more episodes at the Hostettlers’ place since the fence had been cut. To Luke’s knowledge, his dad didn’t know about that event, but even if he did find out, Luke had an alibi—he’d been home in bed. Since his dad had the truck keys, he couldn’t accuse Luke of driving his truck or being anywhere near the Hostettlers’ place.