He licked his lips, and the knot in his stomach tightened. “I thought I would surprise you.”
“You did that, all right.” She set the book aside and patted the cushion beside her. “Would you like to join me?”
Martin took a seat. “I. . .uh. . .need to talk to you about something.” He removed his straw hat and twisted the edge of the brim.
“Are you all right? You seem kind of naerfich.”
“I am feeling a bit nervous.”
“How come?”
“Well. . .I. . .” He scooted a bit closer. “I know we haven’t been courting very long, but I’ve come to care about you.”
“I care about you, too.”
“Enough to be honest with me?”
“Of course.”
He drummed his fingers along the armrest of the glider. “Remember that day at the pond when you said you knew about the truck Toby and Sadie found in the woods?”
She nodded.
“You acted like you knew who owned the truck, but you didn’t seem to want to talk about it.”
She stared at her lap, and her chin trembled slightly. “I. . .uh. . .do know who owns the truck, but I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Does it belong to someone I know?”
“Jah.”
He reached for her hand. “If we’re going to have a close relationship, then I don’t think we should keep secrets from each other, do you?”
She slowly shook her head.
“I’d like to know who owns that truck.”
Ruth’s forehead creased. “If I tell, will you promise not to repeat it to anyone?”
“Jah, if you don’t want me to.”
“The truck belongs to Luke.”
“Luke Friesen?”
“Jah. He keeps it hidden there so his folks won’t know.”
Martin groaned. “I knew Luke was still going through rumschpringe, but I had no idea he owned a truck. Doesn’t it seem strange that he would keep it hidden—especially since many Amish young people openly own cars?”
Ruth nodded. “The fact that he kept secrets from me and wouldn’t settle down and join the church was the reason I broke up with him.”
Martin brushed his thumb back and forth across the top of her hand. “I can’t say that I’m glad Luke’s not settled down, but I am glad you broke up with him.” He swallowed a couple of times. “I. . .uh. . . have another question I’d like to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“Will you be my wife?”
Her mouth hung slightly open. “You—you want to marry me?”
He nodded. “I love you, Ruth. I know it’s sudden, but I feel a strong need to make you my wife as soon as possible.”
A blush of pink cascaded over her cheeks.
“It’s not just a physical need,” he was quick to say. “It’s a sense of urgency I can’t explain.”
“I—I don’t understand.”
“I have a feeling that if we don’t get married soon, we might never marry.”
“Is it because you’re worried about the attacks against my family? Are you afraid something will happen to me?”
He nodded. “Could we be married this fall—maybe early October?”
She lifted her gaze to meet his. “Most couples have a longer courtship than that.”
“I know.” He squeezed her fingers. “Will you at least give some consideration to my proposal?”
“I don’t need to consider the proposal, Martin.” A smile spread across Ruth’s face as a flicker of light danced in her dark eyes. “I’d be honored to marry you.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “Shall we go inside and discuss this with my folks? I want to be sure we have their approval.”
“Maybe it would be better if you talked to them alone. In case they don’t approve of you marrying me.”
“I don’t see why they wouldn’t approve.”
“Jah, okay.”
When Ruth and Martin stepped into the kitchen, Ruth spotted her parents sitting at the table, each reading a section of the newspaper. Her throat felt so swollen she wasn’t sure she could speak. What if they didn’t approve of her marrying Martin? What if Mom and Dad wanted them to wait until they’d been courting longer?
Martin squeezed Ruth’s hand, and the warmth of his fingers gave her the confidence she needed. “Mom, Dad. Martin and I have something we’d like to tell you.”
“What’s that?” Mom asked, glancing up from her paper. She smiled at Martin. “It’s good to see you.”
“Good to see you, too,” he replied.
Dad merely grunted as he kept reading the paper.
Ruth shifted uneasily. “Martin has asked me to marry him.”
“What?” Mom and Dad said in unison.
Dad dropped his paper to the table, and Mom reached to steady the glass of iced tea sitting before her.
“I’ve asked Ruth to be my wife.” Martin gave Ruth’s fingers another squeeze. “She said she’s willing—that is, if you approve.”
Dad squinted as he leveled Martin with a most serious look. “I have no objections to you courting my daughter, but I think it’s too soon for you to be thinking about marriage.”
Ruth opened her mouth to comment, but Martin spoke first. “I love Ruth, and I’d like us to be married as soon as possible.”
Dad held up his hand. “What’s the rush?”
Martin moved closer to the table. “I—I feel a sense of urgency to marry her.”
“He’s worried something will happen to me,” Ruth quickly explained.
Mom’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at Martin. “Why would you think that?”
“All the things that have happened in our community lately have made me realize life is fragile, and one never knows when they’ll lose someone they love.”
“Are you thinking about Abe losing Alma?” Dad asked.
Martin nodded. “That’s part of it. I’m also concerned about all the attacks on your family. If Ruth and I were married, she would be in my care.”
A muscle in Dad’s cheek twitched rhythmically. “Are you saying I haven’t cared well for my fraa and dechder?”
Martin’s face flamed. “I’m not saying that at all. I’m sure you’re doing a fine job caring for your wife and daughters.”
“I do my best,” Dad mumbled.
Mom reached over and patted his arm. “Of course you do, Roman.”
Ruth cleared her throat. “Do you have any objections to Martin and I being married in October?”
“I think it would be better if you waited until November,” Mom said. “That will give us time to get some celery planted, make your wedding dress, and get everything done before the wedding.”
“It will give you more time for courting, too,” Dad put in.
Ruth looked at Martin and was relieved when he nodded and said, “November it’ll have to be, then.”
She smiled and bent to hug her mother. “Where’s Martha? I want to share our good news with her.”
“Out in the barn with those dogs of hers,” Dad said with a scowl. “Where else would she be?”
Ruth kissed her father’s forehead. “Danki, Dad.” Then she grabbed Martin’s hand, and they rushed out the door.
On a Friday morning two weeks later, Ruth stepped out of the house to hitch a horse to her buggy and discovered a message in bold black letters written on the side of their barn. It read YOU’LL PAY!
“Oh no,” she gasped as a shiver zipped up her spine. “Who could have done this? Why would they do such a thing?”
Ruth rushed around the corner of the house, knowing her father was probably heading to his shop by now. That’s when she saw her mother’s garden. All of the plants had been destroyed.
“Ach! My celery!” she screamed.
Dad rushed toward her then, his eyes wild. “What’s all the yelling about?”
“Look over there!” Ruth’s hand shook as she pointed to her mother’s garden. “Someone’s ruined
all our plants, and—and they wrote a threatening message on the side of the barn.”
Dad’s eyebrows furrowed. “What message?”
“You mean you haven’t seen it yet?”
He shook his head.
“Come see for yourself.” Ruth led the way to the barn and halted in front of the message. “Who could have written such a thing, and what would someone think we need to pay for?”
“Not we,” he said with a shake of his head. “It’s me that’s being targeted; I’m sure of it.”
“But why? What have you done that would make someone want to ruin our garden and paint a hateful message on the barn?”
Dad moaned as he bent to pick up an empty can of spray paint. “Several people might be carrying a grudge against me—Steven Bates, Luke, and that land developer who wanted to buy our property.”
“But the land developer left our area some time ago, Dad.”
He nodded. “That’s true.”
“You don’t think it could be the English reporter who used to date Grace, do you? Maybe it’s her he’s trying to get even with, not you.”
Dad shook his head. “If the attacker wanted to make Grace pay, then the attacks would have been against just her, not the rest of the family.”
“But if it’s someone wanting to get even with you, then wouldn’t he have done things to hurt just you?”
“Anything that hurts my family hurts me,” Dad said as he hurled the empty can into a box full of trash near the barn door.
“The more things that happen, the more scared I become.” Ruth gulped in some air. “I just wonder how much longer this will go on.”
“I don’t know. Our bishop came by the shop yesterday morning and said he’d spoken to Luke.”
“What did Luke have to say?”
Dad shrugged. “Guess he told the bishop that he thinks I’ve got it in for him and that he’s not responsible for any of the attacks against us.”
“Do you believe him?”
“No, and I’ve been thinking about talking to Luke myself, but I don’t want to rile him. He might be capable of doing even worse things if he gets mad enough.”
“I can understand that he might have been upset with you for firing him, but that was some time ago. Why would he be doing spiteful things to us now?”
“Maybe he heard about your betrothal to Martin and feels jealous because you’re marrying him.”
“Oh, Dad, I don’t think so. If Luke had wanted to marry me, he wouldn’t have kept secrets during our courtship. I think he was relieved when I broke up with him.”
“Maybe so, but he wasn’t relieved when I fired him.”
“Are you talking about Luke?” Martha asked, stepping up to them.
Dad nodded and pointed to the garden. “Look what was done to your mamm’s vegetable plants.”
Martha’s eyebrows lifted high on her forehead. “What in all the world would cause someone to do such a thing, and who could have done it?”
“The same one who did that.” Ruth pointed to the writing on the side of the barn. “Somebody’s trying to make someone in this family pay for something.”
Martha clasped her father’s arm. “You’ve got to phone the sheriff. We can’t allow this kind of thing to continue. Sooner or later someone’s going to get hurt.”
Mom stepped into the yard just then. “What’s going on? I figured Ruth would be on her way to work by now. And you, too, Roman. What are you all doing out here on the lawn?”
“Look,” the three of them said in unison as they pointed to the garden.
Mom let out a yelp and lifted her hands. “Ich kann sell net geh!”
“There isn’t much you can do except tolerate it.” Dad slipped his arm around Mom’s waist. “What’s done is done. We just need to hold steady and keep trusting God to protect us and our property.”
“How can we trust God when things keep happening and we never know when or why?” Ruth questioned.
Before Dad could reply, Cleon showed up. “What’s going on? Why are you all standing out here in the yard?”
“Someone left a message on our barn, and they—they killed my garden,” Mom said in a shaky voice. “Somebody’s out to get us, and I’m very much afraid.”
“That’s what they want—to make us afraid.” Dad’s lips compressed into a thin line. “We can’t give in. We must hold steady.”
Cleon frowned. “When Grace hears of this, she’s going to be awfully upset. Probably more convinced than ever that the reporter is behind it.”
“Grace might be right,” Ruth agreed. “That reporter seems real sneaky to me.”
“I think it’s safe to say that whoever’s been doing this must be someone close by, as they seem to know our family’s comings and goings,” Cleon said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re not keeping a watch on the place.”
“As I’ve said before, I’m not convinced the reporter’s doing it,” Dad said with a grunt. “I still think it could be Luke.”
“I don’t believe Luke’s the one responsible,” Martha protested.
“We won’t solve anything by standing around playing guessing games.” Dad nodded at Cleon. “We’ve got work in the shop that needs to be done.”
“What about the garden?” Ruth wailed.
“I’ll see about getting another spot plowed and spaded as soon as I’m done for the day,” Dad said. “Then you and your mamm can begin planting tomorrow morning.”
Cleon leaned close to Mom. “Would you go to my house and speak with Grace? I don’t want her coming out here and seeing what’s happened without some warning.”
She nodded. “Jah, sure. I’ll do that now.” Mom headed up the driveway toward Cleon and Grace’s house, and the men turned toward the woodworking shop.
Martha paced in front of her mother’s garden, anger bubbling in her soul. “Something needs to be done about this.”
Ruth knelt on the grass and let her head fall forward into her outstretched hands. “I have a terrible feeling that I’ll never marry Martin—that something will prevent our wedding from taking place.”
Martha dropped down beside Ruth and gave her a hug. “Maybe I should go out to the shop and talk to Dad again—try to convince him to phone the sheriff.”
“Sheriff Osborn knows about some of the other things that have happened here, and what good has that done?”
“He said he’d keep an eye on things.”
“True. But he can’t be watching our place all the time.”
“Even so, I think Dad should let the sheriff know about these recent happenings.” Martha rose to her feet and was about to walk away, when Sheriff Osborn’s car pulled into the driveway. It stopped beside her father’s shop, and the sheriff got out of the car and went inside.
“Now that’s a surprise,” Ruth said. “I wonder what he’s doing here.”
“I’m going to see what the sheriff has to say.” Martha sprinted toward the shop, leaving Ruth sitting on the grass by herself.
“Got a call from one of your neighbors,” Martha heard the sheriff say when she stepped into the shop a few minutes later. “They said someone had written something threatening on the side of your barn.”
“Don’t tell me. Ray Larson called. He was probably checking things over with those binoculars of his. After that first round of attacks against us several months ago, Ray’s wife said she would ask him to keep an eye on things.” Dad folded his arms and grunted. “I never thought that was necessary, though.”
Sheriff Osborn shrugged. “The caller didn’t identify himself. Just mentioned seeing the writing on your barn.”
“There was more done than that,” Martha announced as she closed the door behind her. “Somebody put weed killer on my mother’s vegetable garden, and now everything’s ruined.”
Dad shot Martha a look of irritation. “What are you doing out here, girl?”
“I saw the sheriff’s car pull in, and I wanted to see if he knew anything about what’s been going on here
lately.”
Sheriff Osborn tipped his head in Dad’s direction. “Has something happened besides the message on the barn and the garden being ruined?”
Dad waved a hand. “It wasn’t much. Just a stink bomb thrown into the barn, and some toilet paper draped all over our buildings.”
“Sounds like whoever bothered you before might be at it again.” The sheriff pulled a notebook and pen out of his shirt pocket and began writing. “When did you say these other things happened?”
“A couple weeks ago,” Dad answered.
“Did you see anyone lurking around the place before or after the incidents?”
“Nope.”
“Just Ray Larson.” Cleon spoke up from across the room, where he’d been quietly working on a set of cabinets. “I spotted him walking up and down our fence line the day before the stink bomb happened. His binoculars were hanging around his neck.” He shrugged. “I figured he was out looking for some unusual birds.”
“How come you never mentioned this before?” A muscle in Dad’s cheek twitched.
Cleon shrugged again. “Didn’t seem important at the time. It just came to mind now, when the sheriff asked if we’d seen anyone hanging around the place.”
Martha stepped between the sheriff and her father. “There’s no way Ray Larson could be responsible for any of the things that have been done to us.”
“How do you know?” the sheriff asked, turning to face her.
“I just do. Ray and Donna are good neighbors. They often drive us places we can’t go with the horse and buggy, and they bought one of Heidi’s pups.”
The sheriff arched one eyebrow and stared at Martha as if she’d taken leave of her senses. “I hardly thinking buying a puppy is reason enough to remove the Larsons’ name from our list of suspects.”
Martha’s eyes widened. “You have a list?”
The sheriff nodded. “The last time your father and I spoke, he mentioned a few people he thought might have a grudge against him.”
“You never told us you’d given the sheriff a list of names,” Martha said, turning to face her father.
“I talked to him about it once when he stopped by my shop to see if there had been any more attacks.” Dad gave his earlobe a quick pull. “Saw no need to mention it.”
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