Are they accepting the little bottle with the formula we made up?” Judith asked as she stepped into the barn and found Martha bent over a box, trying to feed Heidi’s puppies.
Martha looked up and offered a weak smile. “They’re eating some, but not as well as they would if their mamm was here feeding them.”
Judith gave her daughter’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Even if Heidi doesn’t come home, I’m confident that the pups will live; you’ll see to it.”
“I spent the whole day searching for Heidi. Luke and Dad even helped me look during their lunch hour, but it was a waste of their time.” Martha frowned. “If Dad would only let the sheriff know about the things that have been happening to us lately, maybe he could find out who’s doing this and why.”
“Your daed believes the things that have happened were merely pranks, and he sees no need to notify the sheriff.” Judith reached into the box and stroked one of the whimpering pups with the tip of her finger. “Just pray, dear one. That’s the best we can do.”
When Martha left the barn sometime later, she noticed a gray SUV pulling into their yard. John Peterson opened his door and stepped down, and to her surprise, Toby King climbed out of the passenger’s side, holding a cute little sheltie in his arms.
“Heidi!” Martha raced down the driveway and scooped the dog out of Toby’s arms. “Where have you been, girl? I was worried about you.”
“I found her wandering along the side of the road near my house,” Toby said. “I knew you had a couple of shelties, and I decided to bring her over and see if she was yours.”
“I was heading to town and saw Toby walking alongside the road, so I gave him a ride,” John put in.
“I appreciate that.” Martha stroked the top of the dog’s head. “Heidi gave birth to a batch of pups not long ago, and she’s still nursing. When she went missing this morning, I was afraid she’d been stolen.”
John’s eyebrows furrowed as he pulled his fingers through the sides of his dark, curly hair. “She probably just went for a run and lost her bearings.”
“But she knows where she lives, and she’s always come straight home before.”
“Maybe she forgot.” John tipped his head, making his slightly crooked nose look more bent than usual. Martha figured he’d probably broken it sometime—maybe when he was a boy. She didn’t think it would be polite to ask, so she averted her gaze and focused on the trembling dog in her arms.
John pointed down the driveway toward her father’s shop. “When I brought some of my tools for your dad to borrow, he said he thought the incidents that had happened to your family were probably done by some rowdy English kids. Does he still think that?”
Martha nodded soberly.
“Luke’s been hanging around with some English fellows. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t in on some of those pranks.” Toby gave one quick nod.
Martha pursed her lips. “I doubt Luke would take part in anything like that, but if I could prevent more pranks from happening to us or anyone else, I surely would.”
John shook his head. “You’d best not do anything foolish, girl. I told your dad I would keep my eyes and ears open, and if I hear or see anything suspicious, I’ll be sure to let him know.”
Martha almost laughed at John referring to her as a girl. He wasn’t much more than a boy himself—maybe in his mid-twenties.
“I’ll keep a lookout for things, too,” Toby said. “And if I find out Luke had anything to do with it, I’ll inform my daed.”
Martha was on the verge of telling Toby there would be no need for him to tell his bishop father anything, but she figured the less said about Luke, the better.
“I should get Heidi back in the box with her brood.” She smiled at the young men. “Thanks for returning her to me.”
“Glad we could help,” they said in unison.
Grace leaned against the buggy seat and closed her eyes. She was glad Ruth had been willing to drive home, because after the encounter she’d had with Gary awhile ago, she probably couldn’t have kept her mind on the road if she’d been the one in the driver’s seat.
Ruth reached over and touched Grace’s arm. “Does your head still hurt?”
“Jah.”
“Sorry about that. Was the restaurant real busy today?”
“No more than usual.”
“Things were sure hectic at the bakeshop. Seemed like everyone wanted a dozen donuts, all at the same time. At one point, there must have been twenty customers milling around the store, and even with Sadie’s help this afternoon, I could barely keep up.”
Grace nodded. She didn’t feel like talking right now. All she wanted to do was go home, take a couple of aspirin, and lie down.
“I’ve been mulling over what you told me on the way to work this morning,” Ruth said. “I think you should tell the folks about that reporter fellow.”
Grace opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times. “No.” The word was nearly a whisper. “I don’t want them to know. At least, not yet.”
“Why not? It isn’t as if you’re running around with the Englisher now. You were only a teenager when you dated him, and it was during your rumschpringe, so Mom and Dad should understand.”
Grace inwardly cringed. There was a lot more to the story than she’d told Ruth, and if her folks found out everything, she was sure they wouldn’t understand. She knew she should have told them that she’d married Wade and that a year later he’d been killed in a car accident. But if she’d told them that much, she might have had to reveal other details she’d rather not talk about.
Grace’s thoughts went to Cleon, the way they always did whenever she reflected on her past. If she had only known him when she was a teenager, she might not have run off with her friends to try out the English world. Too bad his folks hadn’t moved from Pennsylvania to Holmes County a few years sooner than they did. The love she felt for Cleon was strong—not based solely on physical attraction or having fun, the way it had been with Wade. With Cleon, she felt an assurance that he would always be there for her, through good times and bad. If that’s so, then why haven’t I found the courage to tell him the truth?
“If you won’t tell Mom and Dad about the English reporter, then at least let me go with you when you speak to him,” Ruth said, breaking into Grace’s thoughts.
Grace’s eyes snapped open. “Uh … I saw Gary this afternoon when I was walking to the bakeshop to meet you after work.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before now?”
“My head hurt, and I—I didn’t want to talk about anything unpleasant.”
Ruth pulled back on the reins.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m pulling over to the shoulder of the road so we can discuss this some more.”
Grace shook her head. “Better keep on driving. There’s no point in us being late and worrying Mom. She’s had enough to worry about lately.”
“That’s true.” Ruth glanced over at Grace. “What did Gary say when you talked to him? Did you come right out and ask if he’s responsible for the awful things that have been done at our place?”
Grace moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I did, but he denied knowing anything about it.”
“Do you believe him?”
“No.”
“Did he say when he would be leaving Holmes County?”
Grace clenched her fists as she relived the anxiety she’d felt during that conversation. “He says he’s got lots of money and plans to stay here longer and write more stories.”
“That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not, and there’s more. After I told Gary about the break-ins and the brick that was thrown through the kitchen widow, he said it would make a great story. I—I think he’s planning to tell the whole world about the troubles we’ve been having.”
Ruth gasped. “Oh, Grace, that would be baremlich. Dad will have a conniption fit if this gets written up in some magazine or newspaper.”
“I know it would be terrible, and now I’m wishing I had never mentioned it to Gary. Nothing good came from it, since I couldn’t get him to admit that he’s involved.”
“If you’re not planning to tell the folks about this, then what are you going to do?”
Grace shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe Gary will decide he’s got enough information on the Amish, leave the area, and never come back.”
Grace pursed her lips. After seeing the determined look on Gary’s face today, she felt certain that he would write the story. The only questions remaining were how soon until he found a publisher, and when would the story be released?