Martha touched her father’s trembling shoulders. “Why would someone want to shoot your cows?”
“Why would they have done any of these terrible things to us?” He slowly shook his head. “Someone’s got a grudge against me. The question is who?”
A shiver shot through Martha’s body. She rubbed her hands briskly over her arms and drew in a deep breath. Luke had a grudge against Dad—or at least, Dad thought he did. If she told Dad about Luke being here last night and that the two of them had been looking for clues, would he believe her? Or would Dad think Luke had been skulking around, waiting to attack?
“Will you let the sheriff know about this?” Martha asked.
He grunted. “Wouldn’t have to if he’d been doing his job better. After what happened to my shop on Thanksgiving, I figured he’d be keeping a close watch on our place like he said he would.”
“The sheriff can’t be everywhere at once.”
“Maybe not, but he’s got deputies working for him. You’d think with my shop being blown to bits just a couple of days ago, someone would at least have been keeping an eye on our place. Every morning when I get out of bed, I ask myself, ‘What will this day bring?’ And each time there’s another attack, I try to keep the faith, but it’s getting harder to believe the attacks will ever come to an end.”
Martha cringed when she heard the anger and pain in her father’s voice. Despite his resolve to remain hopeful that the attacks would stop, he was obviously feeling discouraged. If only she could say something to make him feel better. If she could just do something to solve the mystery of who was behind these horrible attacks.
“Was is letz do?” Mom asked breathlessly as she stepped up to Martha.
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong here—someone’s shot five of my beef cows!” Deep lines etched Dad’s forehead, and his clenched jaw revealed the extent of his despair.
Mom gasped as she stared at the cows lying in the pasture. “Ach! Roman, why would anyone do such a terrible thing?”
He rose to his feet. “You know why, Judith. Someone’s got an axe to grind against me.”
“You don’t know that,” she said with a shake of her head. “This might have been done by that reporter fellow. Grace still thinks he came to Holmes County in order to make her pay for breaking up with him when she was going through rumschpringe.”
“I don’t think so. If it was Gary Walker, and he was only after Grace, then only she would have been attacked.” Dad touched Mom’s arm. “Think about it. Most of the attacks have been done to our property, not hers.”
“But some were done to Grace,” Martha spoke up. “Don’t forget about her and Cleon’s house being burned.”
“That’s true, but most of the attacks have been done here.” He motioned to the dead cows. “Guess I’d better notify the sheriff about this mess, and then I’m going to see if some of our friends and neighbors will help me cut and process these critters so I can share with others. No point in all this good meat going to waste.”
Mom turned toward the house, her shoulders slumped. “I’ll be in the kitchen fixing breakfast.”
Martha looked at Dad. “Do you need my help, or should I go up to the house with Mom?”
“There’s not much you can do here,” he replied. “You may as well help your mamm.”
Martha nodded and hurried off. She stopped by the barn to check on her dogs. Finding them to be okay, she went straight to the house.
When she stepped into the kitchen, the savory aroma of sizzling bacon filled the room. Ruth was busy setting the table, and Mom stood in front of the stove.
“What can I do to help?” Martha asked.
Mom turned, and her hand trembled as she pushed a wayward strand of hair away from her face. “If you’d like to get out some eggs and scramble them in a bowl, it would be much appreciated.”
Martha nodded. “Jah, sure, I can do that.”
Steam rose from the whistling teakettle, and the heat of the kitchen brought a film of perspiration to Mom’s flushed cheeks. She turned back to the stove and turned the bacon.
As Martha headed to the refrigerator, Ruth stepped up to her and whispered, “Mom told me what happened to Dad’s cows. She’s really upset about this.”
“There’s no need to whisper,” Mom said, “and you needn’t talk about me behind my back. I’m not going to fall apart, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Ruth looked at Martha and shrugged her shoulders. Martha gave a slow nod. She knew her sister was probably thinking the same thing she was: that despite Mom’s denial, she was definitely not herself.
“You look like you could have used a few more hours sleep last night,” John said when Luke entered the shop, yawning. “What’d you do—stay up all night counting sheep?”
Luke couldn’t tell John he’d been over at Roman’s place in the middle of the night searching for clues, so he merely shrugged and said, “Yeah, something like that.”
John stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “Just looking at your bloodshot eyes and dark circles makes me feel tired.”
Luke snorted as he plucked off his stocking cap. “I don’t think I look all that bad.”
“Well, as long as you can give me a fair day’s work, I don’t care what you look like.” John motioned to the rocking chair he’d been working on. “Speaking of work, I’d like you to go in the back room and get some coffee going while I get back to work on this old gem.”
Luke nodded and headed for the back room. He was happy working here and didn’t mind when John asked him to do the grunt work. At least John didn’t yell at him the way Roman used to.
Luke got the coffeemaker going and thought about the night’s activities while he waited for the coffee to brew. I wonder what Martha did with that wrench we found. It was sure stupid of me to pick it up. I wonder if Martha will keep her promise and not tell anyone about the wrench.
As Martha entered the barn to get her horse ready to go to Irene’s that afternoon, she looked up at the hayloft and thought about the wrench she’d hidden there. Had she been right to agree not to tell anyone about it? The wrench did have Luke’s fingerprints on it.
Could Luke have tampered with Dad’s compressor and dropped the wrench in the field as he was fleeing? Was that why he’d picked it up and made such an issue of his fingerprints being on it?
Martha remembered the expression on Luke’s face when she’d asked if he would have blown up Dad’s shop. He’d looked at her as if she’d asked if he would consider lighting his own house on fire.
She grimaced. What was there about Luke that made her emotions so unstable? Trust one minute, confusion and mistrust the next. She had to make up her mind whether she trusted him or not. She couldn’t keep changing her mind like this.
“I trust Luke,” she murmured as she led Gid out of the barn. “I have to trust him.”
Martha had just finished hitching her horse to the buggy when Aunt Rosemary’s car pulled into the yard. “Where’s your dad?” Aunt Rosemary called to Martha as she stepped out of her vehicle. “I have something for him.”
“He’s in the barn with Cleon. They’re taking the hide off a couple of his cows.”
Aunt Rosemary quirked an eyebrow. “He’s butchering cows? I figured he’d be busy trying to set up his shop in the barn. That is where he plans to do his woodworking until he can build a new shop, right?”
Martha nodded. “Five of Dad’s beef cows were shot and killed early this morning.” She motioned to the pasture out back. “Abe Wengerd and Cleon’s brother, Ivan, are out there loading the rest of the cows on one of our wagons.”
“What?” Aunt Rosemary’s jaw dropped.
“It’s true. We heard shots while we were still in bed, and then Dad discovered the cows lying dead in the pasture.”
“I can’t believe this.” Aunt Rosemary shook her head. “First your dad’s shop, and now his cows? How much more can your family take?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
Aunt Rosemary opened her purse and removed her cell phone.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m calling the sheriff; that’s what I’m doing.”
Martha shook her head. “You don’t need to do that. Dad called Sheriff Osborn from our phone shed earlier this morning, and the sheriff came out right away.”
“I’m glad to hear that. It’s about time my brother decided to notify the sheriff right after one of these attacks has occurred.”
“Dad had the sheriff called when the shop blew up. Finding some of his cows dead this morning only magnified his feelings of frustration.”
“He has good reason to be frustrated.” Aunt Rosemary started for the barn. “Maybe when he sees what I brought him, he’ll feel a little better about things.”
When Rosemary entered the barn, she spotted Roman and Cleon removing the hide from one of the cows hanging from the rafters.
“I just talked to Martha,” she said, stepping close to Roman. “I’m sorry about your cows.”
He shrugged. “At least the meat won’t go to waste.”
“Martha says the sheriff came out this morning.”
“Jah.”
“What’d he have to say?”
“Said he’d double his patrol time around our place.”
“He’s said that before,” Cleon put in, “but the attacks haven’t stopped, have they?”
“Maybe the sheriff will catch the guilty party this time.” Rosemary hoped her voice sounded more optimistic than she felt. After speaking to the sheriff herself a couple of times, she didn’t feel he cared that much about the things that had happened at her brother’s place. She wondered if he might be prejudiced against Roman because he was Amish. She’d even wondered if—
“What brings you over today?” Roman asked, breaking into Rosemary’s disconcerting thoughts.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a check. “I came to give you this. It’s to help rebuild your woodworking business.”
Roman took the check, and as he studied it, an awkward silence filled the space between them. Finally, he spoke. “I can’t take this.”
“Why not?”
“It’s for five thousand dollars. That’s way too much.”
“No, it’s not. I love you and your family, Roman. I want to help out.” Rosemary touched his arm. “Christmas is just a few weeks away, you know.”
“So?”
“I’m sure you can use some money to buy your family a few presents, not to mention all the supplies you’ll need to purchase to replace what was lost when your shop was destroyed.”
A muscle on the side of his face quivered. “I’m touched by your generosity, sister,” he said in a near whisper. “Especially after the way I acted when you first came back home.”
She smiled as tears clouded her vision. “That’s in the past. It’s over and forgiven. It’s the now that counts.”
“Your sister’s right,” Cleon said. “It does no good to dwell on the past.”
Roman nodded as he offered Rosemary a smile. “Danki, sister.” He held up the check. “Danki for this and for moving back to Holmes County.”