A Sister's Test (45 page)

Luke studied her intently. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for quite a spell. I’ve come to the conclusion that if there’s another attack, it’ll be time for me to take action.”

“Take action?”

She nodded. “I plan to start investigating things and see if I can figure out who’s behind the attacks.”

Luke’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not.”

“That’s not a good idea, Martha. It’s not a good idea at all.”

“Why not?”

Luke leveled her with a piercing look that went straight to her heart. “Playing detective could be dangerous. You shouldn’t even be considering such a thing.”

“Oh, but I—”

“Not only could it be dangerous, but if your daed found out what you were up to, I’m sure you’d be in trouble with him. He’s not the easiest man to deal with, you know.” Luke grunted. “When that man sets his mind one way, there’s no convincing him otherwise. I know that better than anyone.”

She took another sip of root beer. “I’ll worry about my daed’s reactions to me playing detective when the time comes.”

Abe headed to the barn to get some cardboard boxes he’d stored in an empty horse stall and spotted Willis’s little red wagon. He remembered how Josh had broken it the day before Willis drowned. Abe had
promised Willis that he would fix the wagon as soon as his leg healed and he found the time. There was no point fixing it now. Willis was gone, and it was Gideon’s fault.

Abe grunted as he bent over and grabbed the boxes. For the past several weeks, he’d only been going through the motions of living. His leg had finally healed and he could get around on it fairly well, but the pain that pricked his heart daily was worse than any physical hurt he’d ever endured. Not only did he miss Willis, but he missed Ruth. A few days ago, he’d talked to Roman and heard that Ruth’s back was doing better. But she hadn’t returned to work, and he wondered if she might be staying away on purpose. Since Abe had turned down Ruth’s suggestion that they marry, he wondered if she’d decided that he and his brood didn’t need her anymore.

I was stupid for saying no,
he berated himself.
I love her, and even if she doesn’t love me, at least I could have given her my name and the opportunity to be a mudder to my kinner.

Abe started out of the stall but halted when he heard whimpering. He tipped his head and listened. It sounded as though someone was crying, and it seemed to be coming from the other side of the barn.

He placed the boxes on the floor and started in that direction. As he neared a stack of baled hay, he saw Gideon sitting on the floor, head bent and shoulders shaking.

Abe rushed forward. “Son, what’s wrong? Have you been hurt?”

Gideon looked up, his eyes swimming with tears. “It’s not me who’s been hurt, Papa. It’s you. I hurt you real bad when I let Willis die. I–I’m awful sorry. I miss my bruder, too.” He hiccupped on a sob. “I don’t deserve to be called your son anymore. I—
hic
—should’ve been the one to die, not Willis.”

Abe let Gideon’s words sink into his brain. Losing Alma had hurt tremendously, but he’d come to grips with her death because it was an accident. But Willis’s death could have been prevented if Gideon had been watching the boy as he’d been told to do. For the last several weeks, Abe had been carrying around unresolved anger and resentment toward Gideon, toward himself, and toward God for allowing Willis’s death to happen. But at what cost? Was it fair to allow Gideon, who was still just a boy, to go on blaming himself for his brother’s death?

Abe thought about Willis’s wagon again and how the child had forgiven Josh for breaking it. “It’s okay,” Willis had said to his brother. “If Jesus could forgive those who put Him on the cross, I oughta be able to forgive my own bruder.”

Abe reflected on Matthew 6:14: “For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.” Gideon was Abe’s son, not some man who had trespassed against him. How could he have shut the boy out and made him feel responsible for his brother’s death?

Abe swallowed and nearly choked on the sob that tore from his throat. He had lost one son; he couldn’t risk losing another. Falling to his knees beside Gideon, he pulled the boy into his arms. “I forgive you, son, but I need you to forgive me, as well. I shouldn’t have blamed you for Willis’s death. It was an accident and might have happened even if you had been right there with him. Will you accept my apology?”

“Jah,” Gideon said through his tears. “And I promise to be the best boy I can be—and never let you down again.”

“I don’t expect you to be perfect.” Abe wiped the tears from Gideon’s face. “Only God is perfect. We just need to do the best we can. I know when you ran into the woods after Josh that you didn’t expect Willis to fall in the pond while you were gone.”

“No, I surely didn’t.” Gideon sniffed deeply. “If there was any way I could bring him back, I would.”

“I know.” Abe rocked Gideon back and forth in his arms the way he had when the boy was a baby. “Dear God,” he prayed aloud, “forgive me for the sin of unforgiveness.”

When Ruth stepped into the barn and heard Abe’s voice, she halted. She had stopped at the harness shop to see him, but Ivan had told her that Abe had come to the barn to get some boxes. She’d never expected to see him kneeling on the floor, holding Gideon in his arms and praying out loud. Abe was asking God to forgive his sin of unforgiveness.

I’ve never really done that,
Ruth thought regretfully.
Ever since Martin died, I’ve been struggling to forgive the one who rammed our buggy off the road. Despite my busyness and determination to do something useful with my life,
my broken heart has never completely healed.

Ruth trembled as a sense of shame welled in her soul. She knew it was a sin to harbor anger and resentment toward the person who had caused Martin’s death, even though she wasn’t sure who that person was and couldn’t forgive him to his face.

She leaned against one of the wooden beams and closed her eyes. “Dear Lord, forgive my sin of unforgiveness and heal the hurt in my heart.”

“Ruth, is that you?”

Ruth’s eyes snapped open as the heat of embarrassment flooded her cheeks. She moved over to the bales of hay where Abe knelt beside his son. “Jah, it’s me. I—I came over to let you know my back’s doing better and that I can start working for you again on Monday.” She shifted from one foot to the other, feeling suddenly shy and unsure of herself. “That is—if you still want me to come back.”

Abe stood, pulling Gideon to his feet. “Son, why don’t you run into the house and see if Marlene has lunch ready? I’m going to stay out here and talk to Ruth awhile.”

Gideon looked at Ruth, then back at his father. “Jah, okay.” He gave Abe a hug and darted out of the barn wearing a smile on his tearstained face.

“Things are better between me and my boy,” Abe said.

“I’m pleased to hear it.”

He motioned to a bale of hay. “Would you like to sit down?”

She nodded and started to take a seat, but tripped on her shoelace and fell into Abe’s lap.

He looked stunned.

“Ach, I’m so sorry.” She scooted away and lowered herself to the bale of hay, feeling another blush warm her cheeks.

“No harm done,” he mumbled.

“I. . .uh. . .heard part of your conversation—the one you were having with God.”

“Did you now?” Abe asked, taking a seat beside her. He wore a silly grin on his face, and she couldn’t figure out why.

“The words you said made me realize that I needed to find forgiveness in my heart toward the one who killed Martin.”

“I’m glad.” His expression turned serious. “One can’t find joy and a sense of purpose if their heart is full of anger and bitterness.”

“I know. Now that I’ve confessed my sin to God, I feel clean inside.”

“Same here.”

“Abe, there’s something else I wanted to share with you.”

“What’s that?”

“I was reading my Bible the other day, and I came upon Job 23:10. It says, ‘But he knoweth the way that I take: when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.’ ”

Abe sat several seconds, staring at his hands. Finally, he lifted his head and looked at Ruth. “I believe that verse applies to both of us.”

“I think so, too. That’s why I felt the need to share it with you. After reading it, I was filled with a sense of hope that despite the trials and testing I’ve been through, God will use it for His good.” She smiled. “Someday, I hope to come forth as gold.”

He nodded. “It’s good when we let God’s Word speak to us, jah?”

“Jah.”

Abe moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Uh. . .Ruth. . .I have something I need to say to you.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t want you to come back to work for me as my maad.”

“You—you don’t?”

He shook his head.

“Is it because Marlene’s a better maid than me?”

“She’s done the best job she can, but she’s not a better maid.” He fingered the end of his curly red beard. “Nor would she make me a good wife.”

“What?” Ruth’s forehead wrinkled as she tried to digest what he had said.

The skin around Abe’s dark eyes crinkled, and he reached over and took Ruth’s hand. “I love you, Ruth. I’m not afraid to say it anymore. If you don’t think I’m too old and will have me as your husband when you feel the time is right, I’ll do my best to make you happy, even though I know you don’t love me in return.”

“Oh, but I do! During the time I was home resting my back, I
came to the realization that I not only love your kinner, but I love you, as well.” Ruth gasped and covered her mouth. “I’m being too bold again.”

Abe slipped his arm around her waist and drew her close to his side. “I think maybe your boldness is one of the things I’ve come to love about you.”

Ruth’s cheeks grew even warmer.

“You know,” he said, leaning close to her ear, “Esta asked me once if I would ever marry again, and I told her that if the good Lord desired for me to find another wife, He’d have to drop her right in my lap.” He chuckled. “Looks to me like He did just that a few minutes ago. I think maybe now is the time for me to listen.”

Ruth stared down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze.

“You haven’t said if you’re willing to marry me.”

She lifted her gaze as tears dribbled onto her cheeks. “Jah, Abe. I’d be honored.”

He stood and reached out his hand. “Shall we go inside and tell the kinner our good news?”

“I think we should.” Ruth slipped her hand into the crook of Abe’s arm as they walked out of the barn. For the first time in many months, she felt a sense of peace, knowing that with God’s help, and Abe at her side, she could deal with any test she might be faced with in the days ahead.

W
ANDA
E. B
RUNSTETTER
enjoys writing about the Amish because they live a peaceful, simple life. Wanda’s interest in the Amish and other Plain communities began when she married her husband, Richard, who grew up in a Mennonite church in Pennsylvania. Wanda has made numerous trips to Lancaster County and has several friends and family members living near that area. She and her husband have also traveled to other parts of the country, meeting various Amish families and getting to know them personally. She hopes her readers will learn to love the wonderful Amish people as much as she does.