A Sister's Secret (28 page)

“Jah, okay.” Martha took one final look at the dogs and hurried toward the front of the barn. “Did Dad tell you about Fritz?”

Grace nodded with a grim expression. “When he came up to my house a few minutes ago with Mom, he told us the whole story.” She touched Martha’s arm. “I’m sorry it happened but glad the dog wasn’t hurt.”

“Dad’s trying to blame Luke, but I’m not convinced.”

“Me, neither. I’ve been saying all along that Gary’s responsible for the terrible things that have happened to our family.” Grace bit her lip and stared at the ground. “Except for the mess I’ve made with my marriage. That’s my fault—no one else’s.”

Martha slipped her arm around her sister’s waist as they started walking up the driveway toward Grace’s house. “You made a mistake in keeping the truth from Cleon, but that doesn’t give him the right not to forgive.”

“Maybe not, but I should have told him sooner, not kept it hidden until Anna showed up.”

“No one’s perfect, Grace. We all make mistakes.”

“I seem to take the prize in that department.” Grace stopped walking and drew in a shaky breath. Her face looked pale, and dark circles rimmed her eyes.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling
grank?
”

“I don’t think I’m really sick, but I’ve been having waves of nausea for a couple of weeks.”

“Have you missed your monthly?”

Grace nodded soberly.

“Sounds to me like you might be in a family way.”

“I–I’m afraid that might be the case.”

“It’s nothing to look so down in the dumps about. If you’re going to have a boppli, that’s joyous news.”

“It would be if things weren’t so verhuddelt around here.”

“You’re right about things being confused, which is why I’m going over to the Larsons’ this afternoon to see if they know anything.”

“Why would they know anything? Surely you don’t think that nice couple would want to hurt us in any way.”

Martha shook her head. “Of course not, but I’m hoping Ray might have seen something with those binoculars he uses for bird watching. Or maybe Donna has heard something from one of the people she drives to appointments.”

“I’d feel a lot better if the attacks would stop,” Grace said, “but that doesn’t solve my problem with Cleon not coming home.”

“Have you heard from him lately?”

“Not since he sent that letter saying he was making more contacts for honey sales and didn’t know when he might be home.”

“Guess you can’t write back and tell him you’re pregnant, then.”

“I haven’t seen a doctor yet, so I’m not sure I’m in a family way. Maybe my symptoms are caused from the stress I’ve been under.” Grace halted when they came to the steps leading to her back porch. “Please don’t say anything to the folks about this. If I’m still feeling nauseated by the end of the week, I’ll make an appointment to see the doctor.”

“You promise?”

Grace gave a quick nod.

***

As Cleon exited the store he’d visited in hopes of soliciting some business, he spotted an English girl skipping down the sidewalk beside her mother. It made him think of Grace’s little girl, who was about the same age. After Grace’s secret had been revealed, he’d made no effort to get to know Anna, but then, she hadn’t seemed that interested in him, either.

A pang of guilt shot through him. Anna might not be his child, but she needed a father. Her own father had died when she was just a baby, and her grandfather—the only father she’d ever known—had left her with strangers to begin a new way of life. Even so, Cleon wasn’t sure Anna would ever accept him as her father, and he didn’t know if he would ever feel comfortable in that role.

He pulled his gaze away from the English girl and spotted a phone booth down the street. Since his folks had a phone shed outside their home because of Mom’s meal-serving business to tourists, he decided to give them a call and let them know he’d be on his way home soon.

Cleon entered the phone booth and dialed his mother’s number. Ivan answered. “Cleon, I’m glad you phoned, because I have some bad news.”

“Has something happened to Grace? Have there been more attacks at the Hostettlers’?”

“I don’t know about that, but there’s been one here.”

“What’s happened?”

Ivan cleared his throat a couple of times. “It’s your bee hives—they’re gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean?”

“They’ve been destroyed.”

Cleon’s knees went weak, and he had to brace himself against the phone booth to keep from toppling over. “All of them?”

“Jah. Every last one has been burned. There’s nothing left but a pile of ashes.”

“Wh–when did this happen?”

“I’m not sure. I hadn’t checked on things for a few days, and when I got done helping in the fields earlier today, I decided I’d better see how your hives were doing. That’s when I discovered they’d been ruined. Some of the bees were flying around with nowhere to go, but I’m sure a lot of ’em were burned with the hives.”

Cleon groaned. With no hives and no bees, he had no more honey to sell. And if he had no honey, he had no job other than farming for his father, which he’d rather not continue to do.

“I can’t figure who would do this to you or why.”

“Could have been some disruptive kids out for a good time, or maybe it was done by someone who’s got something against me.”

“Come on, brother. Who would have anything against you?”

Cleon had no answer. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Are you going to start up some new hives when you get home?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“I’m sure Grace will be glad to see you.”

Cleon cringed. Despite his anger at Grace, he really did miss her—missed what they used to have together. He knew he’d hurt her by leaving, but she’d hurt him, too, and he wasn’t certain he could ever trust her again.

***

When lunch was over and Grace’s folks had left for home, she decided to put Anna down for a nap.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help with those?” she asked Martha, who stood near the sink drying the last few dishes.

“No, you go ahead upstairs.” Martha waved a soapy hand. “Maybe you should lie down awhile yourself. You’re looking even more peaked than before we had lunch.”

“I am feeling a bit tired, so maybe I will take a short rest.” Grace headed for the door. “See you later, Martha.”

A short time later, Grace had Anna situated in her room, so she stretched out on her own bed across the hall. It seemed odd to be living in this house—the home Cleon had started building when they’d first become engaged, the place where they were supposed to be living together.

Tears trickled down her cheeks and splashed onto the dahlia-patterned quilt.
Dear God, I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to my family and Cleon. Won’t You please bring my husband home so I can make it up to him?

Chapter 31

“You critters are sure messy, you know that?” Martha clicked her tongue, as she hosed out the unpleasant debris that had accumulated on the concrete floor of the dogs’ outside run.

Heidi and her pups ran around one side of the kennel, and Fritz occupied the other side with a partition between them. Bo and Flo shared another section of the kennel, which would also be divided once Flo got pregnant. Dad had built the kennel against the back of the barn and connected it to an outside run through a small door Martha could open whenever the dogs needed fresh air or exercise.

Martha thought about Freckles, the pup Donna and Ray had bought from her, and how well the dog seemed to be doing. When she’d gone over to the Larsons’ the other day, she’d been pleased to see how much the pup had grown and how well-adjusted it seemed.

Martha had brought Donna and Ray up to date on the attacks at her home. They seemed shocked and promised to keep an eye out for anything strange going on, and Ray had said he would notify the sheriff about the attacks that had already occurred.

Martha felt some measure of relief knowing the sheriff would finally be told, but it wouldn’t set well with her father if he thought she’d had anything to do with it. Hopefully, the Larsons wouldn’t mention her visit.

***

As Grace left the doctor’s office, her heart swirled with emotions. What she’d suspected had been confirmed—she was definitely pregnant. She was pleased to learn that she was carrying Cleon’s baby, but she was worried about how well she could cope with having another child when everything in her life was so mixed up.

The odor of horseflesh assaulted her senses, and she glanced to the left. Two buggies waited at the stoplight, the horses both pawing at the pavement as though they couldn’t wait to go. A car down the street tooted its horn, and an English boy heading up the sidewalk with his mother sneezed. A world where everything seemed normal was going on all around her, while Grace’s world had been turned upside down.

When she approached her buggy, parked in the lot next to the doctor’s office, she spotted Gary across the street, entering the restaurant where she used to work. How much longer would he be hanging around? Every time she saw him, she was reminded of her past and of her concerns that he might be responsible for the attacks. She wondered if she should confront him again—ask him to stop harassing them, plead with him if necessary.

Grace shook her head. What good would that do? When she’d confronted him before, he’d denied knowing anything about the attacks. Maybe he found pleasure in knowing she and her family were frightened. If she ignored him, he might leave them alone.

***

Roman had just begun sweeping up a pile of sawdust when John Peterson entered his shop.

“What can I do for you, John?” he asked, setting the broom aside.

John moved closer to Roman and pulled his fingers through the back of his hair. “You’ve ... uh ... probably heard that Luke Freisen has come to work for me.”

“Jah, I heard.”

“Well, I came by to make sure there were no hard feelings over me hiring him.”

Roman leaned against his workbench and folded his arms. “’Course not. It’s not like you lured Luke away or anything. He only went to you because I fired him.”

John blinked. “Really? I thought—” He shook his head. “Luke said you’d had a difference of opinion and that he figured he’d do better working for someone who used modern equipment.”

“What’d you say to that?”

“What could I say? I wouldn’t be happy doing the kind of work I do without the electricity and updated equipment I have in my shop.” He glanced around the room. “Not that you do poor work with what you use here.”

“I hope things go okay between you and Luke,” Roman said with a shrug. He didn’t want to make an issue of it, but if he were a betting man, he’d bet Luke Friesen wouldn’t last more than a few weeks working for John.

“Luke seems like a pretty smart fellow, and from what I’ve seen, he’s a good-enough worker.”

Roman grunted. “He likes to do things his own way, and I’ll give you a little warning: He tends to be late to work pretty often. Leastways, he was when he was workin’ for me.”

“I appreciate the tip, and you can be sure that I’ll be keeping an eye on him.”

Roman glanced at the fancy pair of sunglasses he’d set on the shelf across the room—the ones Judith had found on the ground near the clothesline. He was tempted to mention that he thought Luke might have something to do with the attacks that had been done at their place but decided against it since he had no proof. He supposed he could mention the sunglasses and ask John to take them and see if they belonged to Luke. On the other hand, if they were Luke’s, it might be best to let him come and claim them himself.

John moved away from the desk. “I’d better get back to my shop. I left Luke working on a set of cabinets for Dave Rawlings, and I need to be sure he knows how many coats of stain it will take.”

“Jah. Thanks for dropping by.” When John closed the door, Roman reached for his broom and gave it a couple of hard sweeps across the floor. Now Dave, one of his steady customers, had taken his business elsewhere. Could Luke be saying bad things about Roman’s work in order to lure more customers to John?

Roman grabbed a dustpan and pushed the pile of shavings into it as he thought about the conversation he’d finally had with their bishop the other night. “I’ve got to quit stewing over things and put my trust in God like Bishop King said I should do.”

***

“I’m glad you’re home, ’cause I didn’t know what to do about all this.”

Cleon grimaced as he and Ivan stood in the middle of the clearing where his beehives had once been. “Not a one left, is there?”

“Nope, and I’m sure sorry about this.” Ivan shook his head. “I didn’t want to make things worse by tellin’ you all the details when I spoke with you on the phone the other day, but the shed where you kept your beekeeping equipment was burned, too.”

Cleon huffed. Things seemed to be going from bad to worse for him these days. “It wasn’t your fault. This could have happened if I’d been here. It isn’t possible to keep an eye on the hives all the time.”