by Marta Perry
Taking a firm grip on her courage, Sarah advanced toward the chicken house, switching on the flashlight but keeping the beam lowered. No point in stirring up the chickens when they were in their roosts for the night.
In the instant after she’d turned it on, she heard a sound—quick, low, unidentifiable. Her fingers tightened on the flashlight.
Don’t be ferhoodled, she lectured herself. You wanted to help patrol. You’re not going to back out now because you imagine things, are you?
She listened, but the sound wasn’t repeated. It had probably been one of the hens, disturbed by the unexpected light. She advanced on the henhouse, keeping the beam of her flashlight low, but aiming it into the dense shadows around the building. Nothing. Besides, if any stranger were that close, the hens would certain sure be making a racket.
Sarah moved slowly around the other outbuildings, checking each one. Daad had taken to padlocking any that could be easily locked, making her search easier. All was serene, the dry grass rustling under her feet.
Just the barn now, and her steps quickened. She’d been tempted to leave Molly out in the field tonight, but hadn’t liked to give in to the fear. Still, she’d be glad to double-check to assure herself that the mare was safe.
A sudden sound from the side of the barn made her freeze, and her heart was suddenly pounding so hard she could feel it in her chest. Biting her lip, she raised the torch, remembering in the same instant the promise she’d made to Aaron.
If you hear something, don’t try to deal with it yourself.
But she wasn’t sure. And she couldn’t go running for Daad when it might be nothing but a bird or a bat.
“Is someone there?” Somehow the sound of her own voice was reassuring. “Hello?” She aimed the light, saw something move in the shadows, and drew a breath to yell.
“Sarah? It’s just me.” Jonah King stepped into the circle of light. “You’re not going to scream, ain’t so?”
She managed a chuckle. “No, but I came close. What are you doing here, Jonah?” Aaron’s teenage brother was physically very like Aaron had been at that age, but he had a quick, changeable personality that meant you were never quite sure when he might take offense at something you said. Aaron had always been the same as he was now—steady, calm and dependable.
“I’m taking my turn to patrol.” Sure enough, Jonah sounded a bit prickly. “Daad acts like I can’t be counted on to do it right.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t think that,” she said, hoping to dampen the teen’s irritation. Jonah was at the age to be at odds with his daad, she supposed. It was hard to imagine her little brothers hitting that point, but no doubt they would. “I’m glad you’re here,” she added. “That means I don’t have to go in the barn alone.”
His slight figure seemed to straighten. “Sure, I’ll go with you. Aaron says you shouldn’t be out patrolling, anyway.”
“He does, does he?” She already knew that, but felt a surge of annoyance that Aaron had spoken to young Jonah about it. “It’s just as much my concern as anyone’s. Besides, I want to make sure Molly is okay.”
Jonah swung the door open. “You wait here while I take a quick look,” he said, a note of importance in his tone.
Sarah bit back the response that sprang to her lips. Let Jonah have his moment of masculine strength—he could probably use it if he was on the outs with his daad.
“Denke, Jonah.” She waited while he stepped inside, shining his own flashlight around the barn before gesturing to her to come in.
“Everything looks okay,” he said. “I’ll just check the loft.”
While he clambered up the ladder, she moved to Molly’s stall, crooning to her softly. The mare came to have her muzzle rubbed, whickering.
“That’s my good girl,” Sarah murmured.
Jonah scrambled down a few rungs and then jumped the rest of the way, too impatient to take every step. “All clear,” he said. “I’ll wait and close up for you.”
“I’m ready now.”
She gave Molly a final pat. Jonah seemed intent on showing how competent he was, so she let him close the barn door and double-check the latch.
Daad wouldn’t think of putting a padlock on the barn. In the event something did happen, a minute or two spent opening it could be crucial in getting the animals out. She shivered despite the warmth of the night when she thought of the cows that had been trapped in Ben’s barn.
“Thanks again,” she said, once they were outside.
Jonah nodded, switching off his light. “No problem.” With a long, easy stride, he headed off toward the lane.
Sarah watched until the darkness swallowed him up, uneasiness stirring. If Jonah was heading for home, why was he going that way? It would be much shorter to go across the fields. Shaking her head, she went back into the house.
CHAPTER FIVE
AARON MADE A brief stop at the harness shop to pick up a piece of mended harness the next morning, and then headed for Nick’s workshop. He wanted to know what progress the arson investigator was making, and his friend always seemed to hear everything in town.
Aaron pulled into the drive that ran along Blackburn House to the rear, sparing a brief glance toward the windows of Sarah’s shop. The lights were on, but he couldn’t see her. Not that it mattered. He’d tell Sarah a lot of things, but not the worry that currently occupied his mind.
It was probably nothing. Almost certainly nothing. So why did it continue to nibble at the edges of his thoughts like a mouse getting into the grain?
Aaron took his time about tying the gelding to the hitching rail, trying to clear his mind. Then he walked toward the door into the clapboard building that housed the workshops of Whiting and Whiting Cabinetry.
He’d expected Nick and his father to be there. He hadn’t expected to find Sarah and Allison, as well. They were standing by a workbench, deep in conversation with the two men.
Nodding to the women, he managed a smile. “The shop is running itself, is it?”
Sarah’s dimple showed. “Mamm is helping us out this morning.”
“What brings you in today, Aaron? Got some work for us?” Jim—lean, weathered and what Nick would be in twenty years or so—smiled to show he was joking.
“Just wondering if there was anything new from the arson investigator. I thought Mac would know, and—”
“And Mac would tell us,” Nick finished for him. “I suppose if there was something that had to be kept secret, Mac would manage, but we’re too used to talking about anything and everything over the supper table.”
“He doesn’t tell us anything sensitive,” Jim corrected.
Nick smiled at his father, as if knowing Jim would always stand up for either of his sons. “Anyway, he says the investigator is being very closemouthed about what he’s doing, but doesn’t think he’s found out anything.”
“At least there wasn’t a fire last night,” Sarah said. “Allison wondered whether having someone from the state police here would scare him into stopping.”
“Either that, or it might make him even more daring, I’d think,” Aaron suggested.
Jim nodded. “Encourage him to mock authority, you mean. That fits with what I’ve read about firebugs. They’re usually male, often young and rebellious.”
Aaron’s hands clenched at his sides, and he forced them to relax.
“It would almost be worse if it did work out that way,” Nick said. “If the fires just stopped, like the last time, then we’d never know who it was, and we’d always wonder.”
“Ja.” Aaron’s throat seemed tight, and he cleared it. “The barn raising isn’t set for sure yet, but they’re talking about a week from Saturday, if we can get the site cleared and ready by then.”
“Good.” Jim slapped his shoulder. “Count on us to help, okay?”
<
br /> “Ben and Miriam will appreciate it,” Sarah said. She gave her partner a worried glance. “There’s so much to do that—”
“We’re not going to postpone the quilt festival, if that’s what you’re going to say,” Allison said promptly. “Did you hear about our plans, Aaron?”
“Ja. The fire company appreciates it. We’ll help any way we can, that’s certain sure.”
“What we need first is a place to hold the festival that will accommodate a lot of visitors, as well as plenty of space to display quilts.” Allison pulled a small notebook from her bag. “I’ve started a list of possibilities.”
“You’ll need display racks. Nick and I can knock some up.” Jim turned away when the phone began to ring, waving his hand at Nick as if inviting him to take over.
Nick nodded. “We can do that easily. We don’t have any big jobs on hand at the moment. Aaron, would you have time to help us?”
“Sure thing. My mamm and sister will do anything they can as far as the quilts are concerned.”
“That would be sehr kind of them,” Sarah said. “Everyone knows Esther is one of the best quilters in the community, and Becky is wonderful gut, as well.”
Allison jotted down notes. “I’ll take care of the publicity, of course, and check into any permits we need. Sarah, if you’ll have a look at the different venues I have listed, you can sort out the ones that are possible. All right?”
He noticed that Allison had already jotted down Sarah’s name, taking her acceptance for granted. But reluctance was written in Sarah’s eyes, at least for him to see. And he knew why. She was always hesitant about taking on something outside her experience, especially if it might bring her into negotiating with the Englisch.
“I’ll give you a hand with that, Sarah,” he said on impulse. “I can check out how easy or hard it would be to set up the display racks at each place, ja? We’ll do it together.”
He shouldn’t volunteer for too much, busy as he already was, but if it would make things easier for Sarah, he couldn’t resist.
“There, you see, Sarah?” Allison exclaimed. “You don’t have any excuse not to do it, right?”
“Of course I’ll do it.” Sarah said the words quickly enough, but he saw a faint flush in her cheeks and wondered how much she regretted being pushed into this project. Maybe he’d have done better to stay out of it.
“I can tell by the way Dad’s looking at me that it’s time we got to work,” Nick said. He dropped a light kiss on Allison’s cheek. “We can brainstorm some more at lunchtime, okay?”
“All right, I hear the message.” Allison stuffed the notebook in her bag. “I get carried away—I admit it. I have things to do, too. See you later.”
They went out of the workshop together, and with a quick wave, Allison headed for the rear entrance to Blackburn House. When Sarah moved to follow her, Aaron caught her wrist, holding her back. It felt small with his fingers encircling the fine bones, momentarily distracting him from what he intended to say.
“I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want to be the one to go looking for a place to hold the festival. If I made it harder for you—”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “It’s fine. I don’t mind doing it. Anything to help the firefighters, you know that.”
“You looked as if you had some reservations about the whole thing.”
She shook her head, and he suspected that if she did have qualms, she wouldn’t share them with anyone.
A smile tugged at her lips. “I just thought maybe you were being railroaded into helping. If you don’t have time to go with me, I can do it on my own. You’re busy with the farm and with helping Ben Stoltzfus, as well.”
“I’ll make time,” Aaron said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find the right place the first time.” That would probably cheer her up.
Sarah’s lips curved, but he suspected she was still worried. “I hope it won’t be difficult. Allison has her heart set on putting on this festival, and she definitely has a knack for getting other people excited, too.”
“That’s what we need, ain’t so? Everyone pitching in to help.”
She nodded, her smile becoming more natural. “I was glad to see Jonah taking his turn with the patrolling last night. Did he tell you we both had the same idea?”
“Jonah? No.” Aaron’s throat tightened. “When was this?” He tried to keep his voice casual.
“It must have been around nine-thirty, I think. It was already dark, anyway. Mamm and Grossmammi had gotten involved in plotting this festival, and we talked longer than we meant to.” Sarah started walking, and he fell into step with her. “I was checking the outbuildings after Allison left, and when Jonah came out of the shadows by the barn, it scared me for a second. He’s lucky I didn’t scream.”
“Ja, lucky.” Jonah must have been on his way to whatever he’d been doing last night, then. It had been nearly two when Aaron caught him creeping into the house. “I didn’t know he was going to check your place.”
Aaron could feel Sarah’s gaze on his face. She’d probably heard an intonation in his voice that he hadn’t intended to let slip.
“He mentioned something that made me think he was trying to prove to your daad that he could take on the responsibility.” She hesitated a moment. “Are there troubles between the two of them?” Sympathy warmed her voice.
Aaron shrugged, trying to loosen tight shoulder muscles. “Daad gets frustrated with him, that’s certain sure.”
“I always think rumspringa is hardest on the parents. And Jonah being the youngest—well, I’d guess my daad will worry more about Noah than Jonny and Thomas when the time comes.”
“You’re probably right.” Aaron managed a smile. “It’s hard to let go of the youngest one.”
“Especially for Mamm and Daadi. They waited so long for another boppli after me that the boys are extra precious to them.”
“Not more than you,” he corrected.
Silence lay between them for a moment. He tilted the angle of his straw hat to keep the glare of the summer sun from his eyes, and wondered how Sarah managed to look so cool in her green dress and matching apron.
“Your daad fretting over Jonah’s rumspringa behavior doesn’t explain why you’re worried, though.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “I can see that you are.”
“Ja.” He frowned, staring for a moment at the row of maples that lined the quiet street. “I haven’t said anything to Daad, but I don’t think much of some of the boys he’s running with. I hope he’s not headed for trouble.”
“Drinking?” Sarah knew as well as Aaron did how much grief could come from the beer parties the wilder teens managed to have.
“That, ja.” The longing to unburden himself was overwhelming. He let out a long breath. “Last night I heard him sneaking in—not that he managed to be very quiet about it. He was stumbling around, more than half-drunk. I quieted him down so he wouldn’t rouse the whole house, and got him to bed.”
“And now you don’t know if you did the right thing.” She said the words he’d been thinking.
“Ja. Maybe it would have been better for him to face Daad. But...the thing was, his clothes smelled of smoke.” There, it was out.
Sarah didn’t speak for a moment, absorbing it, weighing the significance of what he’d said. Then she brushed his arm lightly. “You’re worried. I guess I would be, too. But think about it, Aaron. There was no barn fire last night. Isn’t it more likely that the kids were partying someplace and built a bonfire? That’s just what they’d do, ain’t so?”
The common sense of her words seemed to make some of his burden slip away. “Ja, that’s true.”
“Besides, I can’t believe Jonah would think of setting a fire. He’s been a volunteer firefighter for over a year. He knows what a barn fire would do. He’d never endanger the
animals. Or the other firefighters.”
Aaron let out a long breath, remembering his brother’s face when he’d realized they hadn’t been able to get all the animals out of Ben’s barn. “You’re right. I don’t know what I’m doing, thinking that way about my own kinder.”
“We’re all on edge. Goodness knows what we’ll be like if the fires get any worse.” Sarah’s expression tightened. “If only the police investigator can find the truth...”
Her words trailed off. Was she thinking, as he was, that it might be painful to know the truth?
But it was senseless to worry about the results. Truth was always best.
“Denke, Sarah. Your common sense was just what I needed today.” He glanced around, realizing how far they’d walked. “Where are we going?”
Sarah chuckled. “I’m going to visit Julia Everly. I don’t know where you’re going.”
He laughed, clasping her hand for an instant. “Where is my head? I’ve been that ferhoodled with worrying about Jonah. I’d best get on my way home.” He turned back the way they’d come.
* * *
SARAH WAS STILL thinking about that conversation with Aaron as she turned onto the quiet residential street where Julia Everly lived—not that any street in town was ever very busy, except during a special event like the annual spring fair. The ridge that gave the town its name rose sharply where the street ended, dark green now in midsummer, seeming to guard the town below, keeping its people safe.
Surely Jonah couldn’t be involved in setting fires. Impossible. Aaron had seen that as soon as she’d pointed it out to him. Still, she could understand the nightmare fears that sometimes overtook one in the wee hours of the morning.
Aaron always seemed to feel responsible for the younger ones. She could understand his attitude. She felt the same about her young brothers. Most likely the age gap between him and Jonah made it difficult for Jonah to confide in him, especially about something as sensitive as the boy’s rumspringa activities. Well, maybe the fact that Aaron hadn’t given him away to their father last night would help matters between them.
