I shot her a thumb’s up sign, and she went inside the house.
Ruth grabbed her brother’s hand and the pair dashed for the cow barn. Thomas waved to me as he went. Ruth did not.
A moment later, the screen door opened again, and Grandfather Zook navigated the three porch steps into the yard. I jumped out of the Beetle and jogged across the grass to lend him my arm.
“Danki, Chloe,” he said. “Would you like to sit on our bench in the garden?”
I smiled when he called it “our bench.” We had long talks there many times over the last few months.
When we were settled, I told Grandfather Zook about the poisoned milk.
“I thought it would be something like that. As soon as the officer was here cutting plants I knew it was because of the murder.”
“Do you know what a yew bush is?”
“Is that the plant that killed those people?”
I nodded.
“Ya, I know what is. Simon does too. It’s the part of the job of an Amish farmer to know natural and unnatural dangers on your land, which could ruin your crops or harm your livestock. If our cows got a bit of yew, they would become ill. We don’t have it near the pasture land, but there are some bushes at the tree line that leads into the woods. He pointed to the tree line several hundred yards ahead. You see that dark spiny bush there about five feet high. That’s yew.”
I removed my phone from my jacket pocket. “I had better let Timothy know where we are.”
Grandfather Zook watched as my thin fingers flew across the touchscreen. “What are you up to with that?”
“I’m telling Timothy where I am and that I will be late getting back to the inn.”
“Why can’t you wait to tell him when you see him again?”
I shrugged. “He worries.”
A smile spread across the older man’s face. “Your little message there won’t make him worry any less about you.”
Grandfather Zook placed a hand on my arm. “Chloe, did you hear that?”
My head snapped up from my phone. “Hear what?” Then, I did. It was a vehicle approaching, but not from the road. It came from the other side of the barn.
The cows in the pasture mooed and shuffled away from the noise as it drew closer.
“Somebody’s coming!” Thomas cried and streaked across the yard.
“Thomas!” I jumped off of the bench and raced after him.
He disappeared around the back of the dairy barn. I came around the corner of the barn and pulled up short. Just a few feet from the seven hundred gallon milk talk, Alex Tate sat absolutely still on a four wheeler. Ruth held a pitchfork just a few inches from his chest.
“Ruth, put the pitchfork down,” I said.
“Nee. He’s the Englischer who’s trying to ruin our farm.” The pitchfork shook in her small hands.
Alex’s eyes widened. “No, I’m not. I’m your new neighbor.” He licked his lips. “I know I should have stopped over sooner. I’ve been working so hard on the farm.”
Ruth glared at him. “So you can close ours down.”
I took the pitchfork from Ruth hands. She didn’t fight me. I jabbed it into the ground beside to me. “Alex, what are you doing here?”
Ruth scowled. “You know him?”
“Timothy and I met him earlier today.”
“That’s right,” Alex nodded. “And that meeting convinced me to drop by and say hello. I don’t want to close your farm. Really.”
“That’s not what Daed said,” Ruth mumbled under her breath.
Grandfather Zook appeared around the side of the barn. “What do we have here?”
I made introductions.
Grandfather Zook squinted. “Ahh, so you are the young Englischer running that fancy farm. I heard your barns are orange.”
Alex slowly climbed off of four-wheeler all the while keeping an eye on Ruth. “They are.”
Grandfather Zook pulled on his beard. “Seems like an odd color choice for a barn.”
“Orange is my favorite color, so I thought why not?”
Grandfather Zook cocked his head as if he didn’t know what to make out of that answer.
Alex swallowed. “I’m sorry for all the trouble your family has had. Chloe and Timothy told me about it when they stopped by my farm this afternoon. I had nothing to do with what happened to those two people. This is the first time I’ve been on your land.”
“Chloe!” Becky called my name from the other side of the dairy barn.
I left Alex with Grandfather Zook and the children and found Becky standing in the middle yard between the farmhouse and the barn with Naomi and her parents. Becky’s cheeks were tear-streaked, but she was smiling.
To my surprise, Alex followed me around the side of the barn. I inwardly groaned as a scowl appeared on Mr. Troyer’s face.
“Wait here,” I ordered Alex and jogged over to Becky and her parents.
“Chloe,” Mr. Troyer said. “Who is that man?”
“It’s Alex Tate. He’s one of the owners of the commercial farm on the Gundys’ old land. Timothy and I met him earlier today.”
Mrs. Troyer twisted a tea towel in her hands. “What is he doing here?”
“He said he wanted to introduce himself to you.”
Mr. Troyer’s frown deepened. “Did you ask him to come here?”
“No,” I said quickly. I was going to say more, but then my attention was caught by a blush creeping up Becky’s cheeks. I followed her line of sight to Alex, who stared at her just as intently. Uh-oh.
I stepped in front of Becky’s line of sight, and she blinked as if coming out of a trance. I cleared my throat. “The farm’s called Katts’ Buttermilk Farm, and Alex says they specialize in organic farming.”
“I have heard of them,” Mr. Troyer said and strode across the yard. Mrs. Troyer followed him.
Naomi tugged on my jeans. “Chloe, Mamm and Daed said Becky can visit us again. Isn’t that gut?”
I smiled at her. “It’s very gut, Naomi.”
She laughed at my use of the Pennsylvania Dutch word and then ran to join the rest of the family talking to Alex. In the meantime, Becky skirted around for a better look at Alex.
“Becky, you just made up with your parents. I don’t think mooning over the competition is the best thing to do right now.”
She glanced at me. “Mooning? What does that mean?”
“You’re gawking at Alex Tate.”
She touched her flushed cheek. “I was not.”
“I think it’s time for us to go.”
“We can’t go without saying good-bye,” she said and headed to the rest of the family standing around Alex Tate.
“I have a herd of ninety Guernsey cows,” Alex told Becky’s father. “I plan to keep the herd at around that size. We are already producing milk. I also want to plant some crops but don’t know if we will be able to do that this planting season. We still have so much of the farm under construction.”
Mr. Troyer nodded. “This is my oldest daughter, Rebecca.”
Alex stared at Becky in her jeans, pink sweater, and canvas sneakers. “You’re not Amish.”
Mr. Troyer cleared his throat. “She has chosen another path in life, which as her family, we have accepted.”
Becky tore her eyes away from Alex to smile at her father. I prayed Mr. and Mrs. Troyer didn’t notice Becky’s instant infatuation with the young commercial farmer. Grandfather Zook winked at me. He knew. Becky’s grandfather never missed a thing.
“After Chloe and Timothy’s visit to my farm earlier today, it reminded me of something. Early Saturday morning, I saw someone headed out this way to your farm. I don’t know if that’s where they were planning to go.”
“What time was this?” I asked.
“Near six in the morning. I didn’t think much of because I’ve noticed Amish folks cut across each other’s farms all the time.”
I glanced at Grandfather Zook. That was just about the time he heard something in the milk parlor.<
br />
“The person you saw was Amish?” I asked.
“I thought so, but I can’t be sure. He wore dark clothing, but I wasn’t paying that much attention. It was a chilly morning, and I wanted to finish my rounds, so I could go back to my trailer and make breakfast.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry.” His shoulders drooped.
“That was kind of you to tell us,” Becky said.
He straightened up. “Thank you. I’m so sorry about the trouble that you’re having. If there is any way I can be of help please let me know. I plan to be a good neighbor to you.”
“Danki,” Mr. Troyer said.
“It’s getting late, and I won’t keep you. It was nice to meet all of you.” His eyes lingered on Becky a little too long.
Thomas jumped up and down. “Can I go for a ride on your four-wheeler?”
Alex glanced at Mr. Troyer who frowned at Thomas’s request. “Not today. Maybe another time.” He waved good-bye and walked around the side of the barn back to his vehicle. We heard the engine fire up. The Troyer children, including Becky, ran around the side of the barn to watch Alex drive away.
“He seemed nice,” Mrs. Troyer said.
“Ya, but his business is still a threat to our farm whether or not he intends it to be.” Mr. Troyer turned and headed back to the house.
And that’s why Becky needed to stay away from Alex Tate.
* * *
Naomi, Thomas, and Becky skipped around the barn, hand in hand, and I couldn’t help but smile. The children were so happy to have their oldest sister with them again. Ruth wasn’t with them though and neither was Grandfather Zook.
Curious, I walked around the barn. Ruth pulled the pitchfork out of the ground.
“Now, kinner, you can’t go around trying to poke Englischers with pitchforks. Most of them don’t like it.”
Ruth bowed her head. “Ya, Grossdaddi.”
Grandfather Zook wiggled his bushy white eyebrows under his straw hat. “I think it’s time to go back to the house for a piece of your mamm’s strawberry pie.”
That got a small smile out of Ruth.
“You coming, Chloe?” Grandfather Zook asked as he hobbled by on his braces.
Ruth looked up at the mention of my name and frowned.
“I’ll be there in a moment. I’d like to talk to Ruth.”
The older man stroked his beard and glanced back at his granddaughter. “Well, don’t be too long. I can’t promise there will be any pie left for you if you delay.”
“We won’t be long,” I promised.
Ruth leaned the pitchfork against the side of the barn. “What do you want?”
“Why was Ephraim Shetler behind the barn at six o’clock Saturday morning?” I asked.
Her mouth fell open. “How did you know?”
“Why was he here?”
She folded her arms.
“Is he your boyfriend?” I asked the question, knowing I would receive an angry response in return.
“Nee.” Her face turned bright red. “Nee. He and Anna are sweethearts.”
It was my turn to be surprised at the image of sweet, shy Anna Lambright sneaking around with a boy.
“They are just talking,” Ruth said defensively. “They use our farm to do that.”
“That puts you in an awkward position.”
“She is my freind,” Ruth said as if that were explanation enough.
“How long has this been going on?”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “A month or so. Ephraim always liked Anna. All the boys do. She’s the prettiest girl in our school. It wasn’t until Eastertime that Anna told me she was sweet on him. They started courting.”
“Isn’t Anna a little young to be courted?” I asked.
Ruth narrowed her Troyer-blue eyes. “Anna and I are thirteen. Next year will be our last year of school. We aren’t too young to court.”
The thought of Ruth leaving school at fourteen made me terribly sad. I knew to stop at an eighth grade education was the Amish way, but the professional student in me couldn’t wrap her head around it. School had been my safe place when my family crumbled.
I rested my back against the rough barn siding. “Why do they meet here?”
“They can’t meet at the Gundy barn since that Englischer tore it down.”
The Gundy barn had been Anna and Ruth’s special meeting place.
She kicked at the grass. “And anywhere else is too far for Ruth to walk without her daed noticing she’d gone.”
“So Ephraim walks all the way from the Dutch Inn. How far is that?”
“Four miles. He rides his bicycle most of the way.”
“Why doesn’t she want her father to know about Ephraim?”
“Because of what happen with Katie. Katie always had trouble with sweethearts.”
How well I knew. Katie’s trouble in the romance department had contributed to her murder last December.
She started back around the barn. “I have to go help Mamm in the kitchen.”
“I saw Ephraim here Saturday morning when the tourists were here. Grandfather Zook saw him too.”
She jabbed her fists into the side of her tiny waist. “He didn’t poison those Englischers if that’s what you are trying to say.”
I held up a hand. “I wasn’t saying that.”
She dropped her hands. “Oh.”
“Why was he here, if he and Anna want to keep their courting a secret?”
She started walking again. “I don’t know. I just know Anna was happy to see him.”
Ruth disappeared around the side of the barn.
I stomped down the tuff of grass she had dug up with her toe. The case of Grandfather Zook’s mysterious noise was solved, but a murderer was still on the loose.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
That evening in my room at the inn, my phone beeped at ten thirty. It was a reminder it was seven thirty in California and time to call my father for our weekly talk.
“Hello, Chloe, your father has been waiting for your call,” Sabrina, my evil stepmother, answered.
I translated this from Sabrina speak to mean, “You’re wasting my husband’s valuable time.” I hated it when she answered the phone for my father. I closed my eyes for a moment. “I’m glad to hear it. Can I talk to him?”
She sniffed. “He’s finishing up a work email. He will be able to talk to you in a minute.”
Ahh, so it wouldn’t have mattered if I had called on time. As badly as I wanted to say that to her, I held my tongue. I was rebuilding my relationship with my father and whether I liked it or not—whether Sabrina liked it or not—that included my relationship with my stepmother.
“How are the kids?” I asked.
“They are very well, exceling in school. We just hired a new tutor. The company guarantees if the children complete their program, Brin and Blake will be accepted to the college they choose.”
“They’re eight and six. How could the company make a promise like that?” As soon as I said it, I wished I could reach into the phone and pull the words back.
Sabrina took a quick intake of breath. “They have very high standards. Higher than anything in Ohio.”
I rolled my eyes. It was a good thing Sabrina and I were not in the same room. “I’m glad they’re doing so well. How is the house?”
“Thankfully, the remodel of the kitchen is finished. It looks like something right out of Architectural Digest. We’re moving onto the pool next by having it resurfaced and making it a salt water pool. It will be much easier for the pool boy to take care of.”
“Sounds great.” I tapped my fingers on the bedspread.
“The next time you visit it will look like a whole new place.”
Every time I visited, their house looked like a new place. Despite being a beautiful multi-million dollar home in the San Diego area, my stepmother kept it in a constant state of remodeling. My father could have bought three more homes f
or as much as he’d put into that house.
“Here’s your father,” she said.
Finally.
“Hello, Chloe,” my father’s voice came on the line. “How are you?”
Besides stuck on a bus with geriatric and potentially murderous tourists and arguing with my former Amish boyfriend about a hypothetical house we will maybe own together some day, I’m good.
“Fine,” I said.
“And how is work?” he asked.
“Quiet. The semester ended last week. Graduation is over, and most of the students and faculty have gone home for the summer.”
“Will you have enough to keep you busy?”
“Plenty.”
He cleared his throat. “And Timothy? How is he?”
“Timothy’s fine. His contracting business is booming.”
“It’s good to hear construction is bouncing back after the recession. It’s doing quite well out here in California too. You might want to mention that to Timothy. He’d make a much nicer income here than he does in Ohio.”
Did my father want Timothy to move to California?
“That’s true, but the cost of living is higher out there too, and his entire family is here.”
“Yes, well, I would just mention it to him.”
Time to change the subject. “Sabrina told me about the new tutoring company for the children. She was very enthused about it.”
His breath caught. It wasn’t exactly a laugh, but was the closest he’d ever come to one from something I’d said. “You know Sabrina. She’s passionate about the children’s future.”
“She’s a good mom,” I said, and it was true Sabrina guarded my half-sister and half-brother like a mother bear.
“That is kind of you to say.” He paused. “I know the two of you haven’t had the best relationship, but I hope it’s improving.”
“Little by little,” I said.
He laughed a real laugh. “That’s the most I can ask for.”
We chatted for a few more minutes and then said good-bye. I hung up thinking, “little by little” summed up my relationship with my father too.
I plugged my phone back into the charger when it binged, telling me I had an incoming Skype call. I answered it and Tee’s tiny face appeared on my screen. “I’ve been trying to Skype you for the last ten minutes. Why didn’t you answer?” she asked.
A Plain Malice: An Appleseed Creek Mystery (Appleseed Creek Mystery Series Book 4) Page 18
