A Sister's Secret (10 page)

“Had a little trouble with the delivery wagon.” Luke grimaced. “Guess it was more your horse that gave me problems than the wagon.”

Roman set aside the piece of sandpaper he’d been using to sand a table leg and moved over to the window. “What’s the problem with Sam?” He peered though the glass and spotted his delivery wagon parked near the stable, but there was no sign of the horse.

“He tried to run away with the wagon when Paul Hendricks and I were unloading his table. I had quite a time gettin’ that skittish animal settled down.”

“Didn’t you have him tied up?”

Luke nodded and hung his straw hat on a wall peg near the door. “’Course I did, but he broke free, and I didn’t realize it ’til the wagon started moving.”

Roman thumped the side of his head and groaned. “Don’t tell me you lost the table in the street like you did with those cabinets for Steven Bates. If you did, it’ll be more than a few days pay you’ll be docked for this time.”

Luke shook his head, and his face turned even redder. “Me and Paul had just taken the table out of the back when the wagon started moving, and we had to set the table down in order to chase after the horse.”

“Where’s Sam now?”

“I gave him a good rubdown and turned him loose in the corral. He acted kind of spooky on the way home and was pretty lathered up by the time we got here.”

Roman moved back to his sanding job. “I thought he was acting a bit jumpy this morning when I took him out of his stall, but I figured he’d settle down once he was harnessed up.”

“Maybe you should have the vet check him over,” Luke suggested. “It’s not like Sam to carry on like that.”

“I’m wondering if it has something to do with what happened yesterday.” Roman gave the table leg he’d been working on a couple of swipes. “I didn’t mention this earlier, but someone broke into our house while we were at church.”

“I heard about that.”

“Who told you?”

“Stopped by the bakeshop to say hello to Ruth when I was in Berlin. She told me about it.” Luke grabbed a hunk of sandpaper and started working on one of the other table legs that had been lying on the workbench.

“The womenfolk were pretty shook up when we got home and discovered the kitchen had been ransacked.” Roman grunted. “Whoever did it made a mess in Grace’s bedroom, too, although nothing appeared to have been stolen.”

“Ruth said you had decided not to notify the sheriff.”

Roman nodded. “I’m sure this was just a prank—probably done by whoever tipped over those outhouses not long ago.”

Luke squinted. “You think that’s got something to do with the way your horse acted this morning?”

Roman stopped sanding long enough to reach up and scratch the side of his head. “I’m not sure, but maybe the person who broke into the house went out to the barn and bothered the horses.”

“Was anything in the barn disturbed?”

“Not that I could tell.”

“Did any of the other horses act jumpy this morning?”

“Nope. Just Sam.” Roman gave his earlobe a couple of sharp pulls. “Guess I’ll never know what all went on during the break-in, but I’m thankful nothing was stolen and that none of the animals were hurt.”

Luke opened his mouth as if to comment, but the door opened, and Judith stepped into the room. “Ready for lunch, Roman?” she asked, lifting the lunch pail she held in her hands.

Roman nodded, grateful for the interruption. He didn’t want to give any more thought to yesterday’s happenings, much less talk about them.

Chapter 10

As Roman headed to his woodworking shop the following Monday morning, thoughts about the break-in flitted through his mind. During the past week, he’d checked with some Amish families who lived close by to see if they’d had any problems, but apparently no one else had been bothered. If it was some rowdy English boys running amuck, then they probably wouldn’t stop with just a prank or two.

Roman slipped his key into the lock and swung the shop door open. He froze. Even without the gas lamps lit, he could see the devastation. Broken tools littered the floor, a couple of tables had been dumped over, and the distinctive odors of lacquer thinner and stain permeated the room.

“
Was in der welt?
What in all the world was someone thinking? Who’s responsible for this?” Since the front door had been locked, he knew the only way anyone could have gotten in was through one of the windows or the back door.

Cautiously, he stepped through the mess, making his way to the back room. The door there was slightly ajar, and he saw immediately that the lock had been broken.

He lit the nearest lamp so he could see better. Anger boiled in his chest when he realized how many of his tools and supplies had been ruined. After a thorough search through the cabinets where more tools were kept, he discovered several items were missing—a gas-powered saw, a sander, and his two most expensive hammers.

He bent over to set one of the tables in an upright position. “I don’t need this kind of trouble. No one does.”

The door swung open just then, and Ruth stepped into the room. “Dad, I came to tell you that breakfast is ready.” Her mouth dropped open, and she motioned to the mess on the floor. “Ach, my! What’s happened here? It looks like a tornado blew through.”

Roman shook his head and grunted. “More like a bunch of
diewe.
Besides making a mess of the place, the thieves stole some of my tools.”

She drew in a couple of shaky breaths. “Do you think it could be the same ones who broke into our house a week ago?”

“Don’t know. Probably so.”

“Are you going to let the sheriff know about this?”

“No need to involve the law. Even though I’m not happy about this, no one was hurt, and I’m turning the other cheek just like the Bible says we should do.”

Ruth bent down and picked up a chair that had been overturned. “If it is some rowdy English fellows, it’s not likely they’ll stop until someone catches them in the act and they’re put in jail.”

“I know that already, but I’m not going to bother the sheriff.”

“Okay.” Ruth nodded toward the house. “If we hurry and eat, we can all come back to the shop and help you clean up before it’s time for Grace and me to leave for work.”

He motioned to the floor. “After seeing this mess, I’ve lost my appetite. You go on up to the house and eat. I’ll get something after I’ve cleaned things up in here.”

Ruth shrugged and headed out the door.

***

Ruth shivered as she started for the house, and she knew it wasn’t from the chilly morning air. Had the same person who’d ransacked their house broken into her father’s shop? Why would anyone do such a thing?

Stepping into the kitchen, she told the rest of the family, “Dad’s shop has been broken into.” She drew in a quick breath. “Broken pieces of furniture are all over the floor.”

Mom’s face blanched, and she grabbed hold of the cupboard as though needing it for support. “Oh, no, not again.”

Martha set the plate she’d been holding onto the table. “Maybe now Dad will notify the sheriff.”

Ruth shook her head. “He says no. He’ll turn the other cheek as the Bible says we’re to do.”

“But what harm could there be in letting the sheriff know? It doesn’t mean Dad will have to press charges or anything.”

Mom walked across the room as if she were moving in slow motion, removed her shawl from a wall peg, and opened the back door.

“Where are you going?” Ruth called.

“Out to speak with your daed.”

Martha pulled out a chair and sank into it with a groan. “Mom won’t get anywhere with Dad; she never does. Whatever he says, she’s always in agreement with, so he won’t be phoning the sheriff.”

“Is Grace still in her room?” Ruth asked.

Martha nodded. “She hasn’t come down yet. Why do you ask?”

“I need to see if she’ll ask Cleon to speak to Dad about this.”

“Why Cleon?”

“Dad thinks highly of him, and if anyone can convince Dad to notify the sheriff, it will be Cleon.”

***

Later that morning as Grace traveled down the road in her buggy toward the Schrocks’ place, she prayed they would be back from their trip and that Cleon would agree to speak to her father. She also prayed that Dad would listen. At Ruth’s suggestion, she’d agreed to take a separate buggy so that she could stop by to see Cleon before she headed to work. Passing a phone shed on the way, she felt tempted to pull over and call the sheriff herself but thought better of it. If Dad found out she’d done that, she would never hear the end of it. No, it would be better if Cleon convinced Dad to contact the sheriff.

A short time later, Grace pulled her rig into the Schrocks’ driveway. Cleon’s twenty-year-old brother, Ivan, was out in the yard. “I’m glad you’re home from Montana. When did you get back?” she called as she stepped down from her buggy.

“Got home late last night.”

“Is Cleon here?”

“Jah. He’s checking on his bee boxes right now.” Ivan nodded his blond head in the direction of the meadow out behind the Schrocks’ three-story home. “What brings you by so early this morning?”

“I’m on my way to work, but I wanted to speak with Cleon about something.”

“Does it pertain to your wedding?”

She shook her head and tied her horse to the hitching rail near the barn.

“Want me to go fetch him?”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll head out to the meadow myself. I’d like to see how things are going with his bees.”

“Jah, okay. See you later then, Grace.”

Grace lifted the edge of her skirt as she stepped carefully over the cow flops in the pasture, then traipsed through the tall grass leading to the open space where Cleon kept his bee boxes. The newly risen sun had cast a beautiful orange haze on the sky, and she could smell the distinctive, crisp odor of fall in the air. If she hadn’t been so upset, she might have felt a sense of peace from the scenery.

When she reached the first grouping of bee boxes, she stopped and stared at the bees buzzing around one of the boxes as though looking for a way to get in. She wondered if the bees felt trapped once they were inside the box. That was certainly how she felt—trapped. And there seemed to be no way out. No way to forget the past or make her family feel safe in their own home again.

Grace spotted Cleon across the field, and her frustrations abated some. His easygoing mannerisms and genuine smile made her feel safe and loved. Drawing in a deep breath, she rushed over to him.

“Grace! What a surprise. I was planning to come by your place after you got off work today, but I sure didn’t expect to see you here this morning.”

“I took my own rig and left the house early. I’ll be heading to work soon, but I wanted to speak with you first thing.”

He drew her close to his side. “What’s wrong? You’re trembling. Are you upset about something or just cold?”

She leaned her head against his chest, relishing the warmth of his jacket and finding comfort in the steady beating of his heart. “I’m upset. We’re all upset.”

“Why’s that?”

“There have been two break-ins at our place in the last week—the first one at the house last Sunday, and then this morning, my daed’s shop was vandalized.”

Cleon held her at arm’s length, and a muscle on the side of his face quivered. “Is everyone all right?”

“We’re fine, but some of Dad’s tools were taken, and lots of other things were ruined.”

“What’s your daed planning to do about this?”

“Nothing. He thinks it was probably done by whoever turned over outhouses at the schoolhouses near Kidron a few weeks back.” Grace swallowed hard in an effort to dislodge the lump in her throat. She wanted so desperately to share her suspicions about Gary with Cleon, but fear of his reaction kept the words in her throat. “Dad thinks it won’t happen again and says if we involve the sheriff and he finds whoever did it, we’ll be expected to press charges.”

“Roman wouldn’t do that. It goes against our beliefs.”

She nodded. “Even if we can’t press charges, don’t you think the sheriff should be told so he can keep an eye out for trouble and hopefully catch the person responsible?”

Cleon reached up to rub the bridge of his nose. “I suppose it might be good if the sheriff knew what happened. Maybe there have been some other break-ins in the area, and he might have a better chance of catching whoever did it if he knew what all had been done. Could be some kind of a pattern these kids are using.”

She tipped her head and stared up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe they strike once or twice in one area, then move on to some other place and pull a few pranks there.”

“What they did to our house and Dad’s shop was more than a prank, Cleon.”

“You’re right, and it could get even more serious if they’re not stopped.”

“So you’ll talk to my daed and offer your opinion?”

He nodded. “Not sure how much influence I have with him, but I will give my two cents’ worth.”