CATHY TOOK THE horse and buggy to school the next morning. Mindful of the chief’s warning, she’d decided she wouldn’t be walking through the woods for a time. Mamm and Daad were sure to question why she was driving if she did it every day. She could only hope this situation would be resolved before it came to that.
She drove into the Forster lane to pick up Allie and stopped, appalled at the sight that met her eyes. The greenhouse—for a moment it looked as if it had been hit by a tornado. Then reality asserted itself. This hadn’t been done by nature. Someone had vandalized the building.
She’d barely formulated the thought when Michael came striding toward her, his movements quick, his shoulders tense. He leaned against the buggy seat to speak.
“Allie will be out in a minute.” He jerked his head toward the greenhouse. “You see that we had visitors last night.”
“It’s...it’s terrible.” She didn’t have the words. No wonder he looked so strained. He was blaming himself, of course, for having brought this trouble on the family. “Who was it?”
Michael’s hands tightened into fists. “I wish I knew. Lige and I were in the kitchen when a car came racing in. We ran out at the first sound of breaking glass, but they did a lot of damage in a short space of time.”
“You couldn’t identify them?” But he’d have started with that if he could have.
“Three men, that’s all I could say. Youngish, from the way they moved, but not kids. They piled back into the car and beat it before we could catch up with them.”
“Poor Verna. She must be so upset. What can I do?”
His eyes softened. “Just keep Allie occupied. Verna’s surprising us. She’s already forgiven. I’m afraid I’m not able to meet her standard. At least the damage is nothing that can’t be fixed.”
Michael turned as the back door opened and closed. Allie came hurrying toward the buggy. Cathy’s heart winced when she saw the child’s face. Allie was all closed in again.
But then she reached Michael, and her expression blossomed into a smile as she took his hand. Cathy’s tension eased. Allie was turning to her father in a way that seemed natural. They were finding their way to each other, and that was the best thing that could happen to them.
“Okay, off you go to school in your pretty new dress.” Michael lifted her to the buggy seat next to Cathy. “Don’t worry. You’ll be surprised at how much Onkel Lige and I will have cleaned up when you get home today.”
Allie nodded, accepting his words, but Cathy was still concerned. This vandalism had hit Allie on an emotional level, and she thought it was worse because Allie had begun to see this place as belonging to her, too.
“We’d best get moving,” she said with a cheerfulness she didn’t feel. She clucked to the mare, turning in a wide circle to head back out the lane. “I’ll see you after school, then,” she called to Michael while trying to send a message with her expression.
I’ll do my best for Allie. She hoped he understood.
They rode in silence for a few minutes, and she waited, hoping Allie might speak. But Allie had retreated firmly behind her barricades.
Cathy hurt for her, and she knew she had to open something that was bound to be painful. Still, it was even worse to keep silent.
“That was a terrible thing that happened last night,” she said, watching for cues. “Did you hear it?”
Allie shook her head. “Daadi told me when I woke up. Why—” She stopped, clamping her lips closed.
“Why do bad things happen?” Cathy asked, hoping she guessed right.
Allie’s mouth compressed even more, but her eyes were alive with a mixture of feelings—most likely anger among them. It was like watching a pot come to a boil.
Then the lid seemed to pop off. “Why do they happen to us?” It was a cry so many people had made, but Allie wasn’t to know that.
“You have had a lot of bad things happen to you in the last year, haven’t you?” Cathy kept her voice calm, feeling her way. “Maybe you started to feel as if you did something wrong to bring all these bad things on.”
Allie shot a glance at her, as if weighing whether Cathy thought that. Whatever she saw must have reassured her, because she seemed to lose a little of the tension she carried.
“Do you think that’s why?” she asked, her voice very small.
Cathy reached across to take one cold little hand in hers. “No, I’m sure it’s not. Very sure. It’s not you.”
“Then why?” The words had tears behind them. “Why?”
Why do bad things happen? She was asking the biggest of questions and expecting an answer.
“Sometimes people do bad things,” she said, praying for the words. “It’s not your fault if you’re hurt by one of those bad things, any more than it would be my fault if I were hit by lightning. You see?”
Allie nodded, but she was clearly not satisfied. Cathy would have to dig a little deeper.
“You didn’t do anything to make those things happen. And it’s important to remember that there are more people doing good things in this world than bad.”
She mulled that over for a moment. “Are you sure there are more?” This sounded almost like a challenge.
“I’m sure.” She smiled at Allie. “Tell you what. We’ll have a game. We’ll count up all the good things that happen today, and we’ll tell each other on the way home. Okay?”
“Okay.” There was still doubt in Allie’s tone, but she managed to smile. It was a tiny smile, but it gave Cathy hope. Somehow she had to make sure that Allie had good things happen to her today.
When they reached the school, Cathy kept Allie with her while she unharnessed the buggy horse and turned her into the small paddock. By the time they’d done that, some of the other scholars had started to arrive.
Cathy cringed inwardly when she saw who her helper for the day was. Mary Alice Stoltzfus. She’d wondered why Mary Alice seldom volunteered to help, since she supposedly wanted to be a teacher. Now Cathy had a chance to find out. But almost any other day would have been better to have Mary Alice watching her.
The morning went on its usual course, but Cathy, with an ear well tuned to her classroom, could tell that some of them had already heard what happened at the greenhouse the previous night. That settled it in her mind. She’d speak to the children about it. Children relied on the grown-ups in their lives to set the tone of their reactions.
As the time for morning recess approached, she closed out the current lessons and asked that books be put away. As they did, her scholars looked at her expectantly. Mary Alice rose from the corner where she’d been listening to the third and fourth graders reading aloud.
Cathy came around her desk to be closer to the children, looking from one face to another. “Some of you have heard about what happened last night at Verna Forster’s greenhouse. If you didn’t, you must know that several people attacked one of the greenhouses and made a mess.”
She didn’t need to explain that the attackers had been Englisch. They’d know that without thinking.
The children exchanged glances, some looking shocked and others a little frightened.
“All of you know Verna, Allie’s great-great-aunt, and you understand what a mean thing that was for someone to do. Do you have any questions you want to ask?”
A tentative hand went up, and she nodded.
“Will they... Will they do that to us, too?” Anna Schmidt, whose family ran a large farm stand, looked as if she imagined it the target of an attack.
“I don’t think so, Anna. I’m sure your daad will be watchful to keep you safe. But we can all imagine how it would feel if it happened to us, can’t we?”
Heads nodded solemnly, and more than one child glanced at Allie.
“What do we do when one of the Leit needs help?”
Ruthie’s hand shot up. At Cathy’s nod, she said, “We help them.”
“That’s right. We all know that, don’t we?” Heads nodded solemnly. She scanned faces, looking for any dissent, but found none. If any of their parents were inclined to think Verna had brought it on herself by taking in Michael and Allie, they hadn’t apparently shared that with the kinder.
“So we will look for ways we can be kind and helpful, remembering that’s what we are called to do. You may go to recess now.”
Mary Alice hesitated for a moment as the children began to file out. Then she went to take hands with Ruthie and Allie as they moved toward the door.
Well. That surprised her...she couldn’t deny it. She wondered if Mary Alice’s mother would approve. Probably not, but perhaps Mary Alice was developing a mind of her own.
As for Allie...she suspected that the friendship the other children showed her would help her heal more than any words Cathy might say.
LIGE PICKED UP one of the ten-inch geranium pots and shook it gently, to be rewarded with a small shower of broken glass. He glanced at Michael and made a face.
Michael shrugged. “We may have to ditch the lot of them.”
“Ach, don’t give up so easy,” Lige said. “We’ll set them aside, and maybe we can figure out some way to save them.”
It sounded like Lige had a lot more patience than he did. There were bigger problems facing them, like how to get all the broken panes replaced. A few of the frames were damaged as well—he’d guess the baseball bat had done that.
“Even if we save those, we might not find anyone wanting to buy them. People tend to avoid a place once there’s trouble.”
Lige stared at him for a long moment. “Out there, maybe.” His gesture seemed to indicate the world beyond the ridges. “Not in River Haven.”
He’d like to believe that was true, but he couldn’t.
They had moved one row of geraniums when Michael saw a buggy turn into the drive—Sarah, with the three younger children in the back. He headed toward the drive, intent on discouraging her from trying to take part.
Aunt Verna emerged from the kitchen, where she’d been washing breakfast dishes, pulling on garden gloves. “Ach, Sarah, what are you doing here?” Obviously she felt the same way as he did. “Now, don’t say you’ve come to help. You have plenty to do with the kinder, and you won’t want them around the broken glass.”
Sarah was already lifting down a basket and putting it in Michael’s hands. The two boys scrambled down on their own and stared wide-eyed at the greenhouse while Sarah lifted little Sally into Aunt Verna’s arms.
“That’s a couple of shoofly pies and a box of sandwiches.” She nodded toward the basket. “Boys, you take that into the kitchen for Aunt Verna.”
They cast a wistful glance toward where their daadi was working before obeying her.
“The men will work up an appetite this morning, so we’d best start the coffee and get things ready.” Her voice was brisk, and she swept Aunt Verna toward the house as she spoke.
“What men? Lige and I...”
His sister gave him a mischievous look that transformed her into an eight-year-old. “Wait and see. I predict you’ll have more help soon.”
Michael started to protest, but she didn’t wait around for it. And apparently she was right, because another buggy was turning in already—Lige’s two brothers and his daad, he realized quickly.
Lige had come out at the sight of them, and he grinned at Michael’s expression. “Save your breath,” he said. “They’re here to help, and you won’t talk them out of it.”
Oddly enough, he wasn’t even tempted to do so. This place must be having an effect on him. Or maybe it was the people. Lige’s family was probably here because of him, but their help would be most welcome.
Throughout the morning, another eight men had shown up, including Cathy’s father, along with a handful of women carrying food into the kitchen. When he glanced toward the kitchen window, he could see what looked like a cheerful beehive of women, all talking and working at the same time.
“It’s going fast,” Lige said as he and Michael pulled out a broken frame. He sounded satisfied, and it was no wonder. They’d completely emptied the greenhouse and were well underway with cleaning up the broken glass.
“Yah, but it’ll need another trip to get the replacement glass.” How long would that take? And what would it cost? That should be on him, as he saw it.
“At least it didn’t happen earlier in the spring,” Lige pointed out. “We’re not going to have frost now, so the plants will be safe enough outside.”
He could stand to have a little more of Lige’s boundless optimism, he decided.
He and Lige were both startled, it seemed, when a car pulled into the lane. Probably Lige was wondering, as he was, if the police had come calling again.
Then he recognized the car—it was Mrs. Carpenter’s elderly station wagon. He and Lige exchanged glances.
“I’ll talk to her. She must not have heard.” Michael walked quickly toward the car, trying to frame an explanation. But there wasn’t one, other than the truth.
“Good morning.” He hurried to intercept her before she got out of the car. “I’m afraid we’re closed for repairs.”
“Nonsense.” She shoved the door open abruptly and swung herself out, hanging on to it as she straightened. “You can always stop long enough to sell something.” She walked past him, headed straight for the rows of geraniums they’d put on the ground.
“I could bring you anything...” he began, but as usual, she cut him off.
“No need for that. Just load up these geraniums in the back of the wagon. I’ll take all you can fit in.”
Lige had joined them by this time, and he protested. “We haven’t had a chance to check them all. There might be broken glass.”
“Do I look like I’m afraid of a little glass?” she demanded, scowling at him. “Start loading them.”
She definitely had Lige intimidated. He immediately started picking up pots.
“Look, Mrs. Carpenter, we appreciate it, but I can’t let you pay for plants that might be damaged.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me who I pay. Lige will take the money, or I’ll leave it under a flowerpot. Mind you come by and give me that estimate. It’s time we got started on that railing.”
He’d have continued to protest, but she’d already stumped off toward the car to supervise the loading. Resigned, he picked up an armload of pots. Despite their obvious differences, Mrs. Carpenter reminded him of Aunt Verna, and he never had been able to win an argument with her either.
CATHY TURNED THE buggy into the lane, smiling at the sight of Allie’s face when she saw workers swarming over the greenhouse. Phil Maggio’s truck was pulled up close, and he and two other Englischers were unloading glass panes that would replace the ones broken by vandals.
“All those people are helping.” Allie’s expression was one of awe. “Look at them.”
“’Course they are.” Ruthie bounced on the seat, as if ready to launch herself into the work party. “Look, there’s my daadi.”
“Remember what we talked about this morning?”
Allie met her gaze, and her smile transformed her serious face. “We’ll both count this one, ain’t so?”
Cathy nodded.
Ruthie, predictably, turned to Allie, her eyes alight with curiosity. “What do you mean? What are you counting?”
“Good things,” Allie said softly. Suddenly she put her arm around Ruthie and hugged her, surprising Cathy as much as it did Ruthie. “You’re one of my good things.”
Michael approached them, his gaze questioning. “I thought Allie and Ruthie were going to my daad’s place this afternoon.”
“I received a message from Sarah to bring them here instead.”
He gave each of the girls a hand as they jumped down. “See all the people who came to help us? That’s wonderful good, isn’t it?”
“Did you ask them?” Allie said.
Michael shook his head, smiling. “They just came. Now, I’ll bet Aunt Verna and the others could use your help in the kitchen.”
The two of them consulted wordlessly. Then they ran off toward the kitchen.
Cathy had to smile. “Those two have reached the point that they don’t need words to communicate. It’s nice to see.”
“It is.” His brow furrowed. “How was Allie today? She seemed so upset when she left that I wasn’t sure sending her was the right thing to do.”
“Talk to her,” she suggested. “I think you’ll find being in school today was good for her. The other scholars rallied around, just as they should.” She nodded toward the greenhouse. “Just as the grown-ups did.”
Michael leaned against the buggy seat as if prepared to chat. “I’d guess that the example set by Teacher Cathy had something to do with it.”
She shook her head, smiling. “All I did was remind them who they are. That’s all.”
“We all need that, I guess. When I see things like this, I think I know.” He gestured toward the men working on the greenhouse. “But sometimes it’s hard to be sure.”
Cathy’s heart twisted. She knew what she hoped his answer was. But how could she be sure it was right for him? Impulsively she put her hand over his.
“Give it time. It will come to you.”
He glanced at her hand, and she took it away hastily. What was she thinking to be touching his hand where others could see and interpret?
“I guess Sarah knew she’d be here helping, so it was best to pick up Allie and Ruthie here to bring to my father’s.” Michael turned, as if going to the kitchen.
“I think there might be another reason.” Cathy had just spotted the man who emerged from behind the greenhouse. “Your daad is here.”
“He’s not...” Michael began, and then fell silent as he, too, saw his father.
Josiah Forster looked intimidating at the best of times, and his expression was stern as he approached his son. It suddenly occurred to Cathy that she was intruding. She picked up the lines.
“I’ll get my buggy out of the way and then check in with Verna,” she said quickly. But Josiah had reached them already, and his sternness melted slightly at the sight of her.
“Teacher Cathy.” He nodded in greeting. “You brought my granddaughters, yah? Denke.”
“I was happy to do so.” Her own smile broke through at the thought of Josiah dealing with the two girls. “They chattered the whole way.”
He couldn’t seem to hide the doting look in his eyes. “Ach, little girls are different, ain’t so?”
She nodded, thinking it was high time she scooted. “I’ll just get out of the way.”
Josiah stopped her with a hand on the buggy frame. “I’ll just keep Michael for a moment.” He turned to his son as if there had never been any estrangement between them. “Lige asks will you komm? He wants your opinion on the framing before we start.”
For a moment it seemed Michael was too stunned to speak. Then he nodded. “Yah, fine. Let’s go, then.”
Cathy watched them walk toward the greenhouse together. They were so much alike, allowing for the difference in ages...both tall and wiry, with the same glossy brown hair the color of a horse chestnut, though Josiah’s was sprinkled with gray.
A little bubble of happiness teased her. If only this could be a new beginning for the two of them—that would go a long way toward allowing Michael to find his place.
After she’d tied her horse to the hitching rail, Cathy walked back toward the house, pausing to wave at her father. Was it too much to hope that as Daad worked with Michael, they’d develop a liking for one another? It could be, but she suspected her motives for seeing that happen were totally selfish.
Cathy stopped short of the porch when a car came sweeping up the lane...not the police car, but Chief Jamison’s own vehicle. He was being tactful, but he could have picked a better time to come.
The car pulled up beside her, and Jamison got out. “Hi there, Cathy.” He glanced toward the greenhouse. “Looks like everyone is hard at work. Could you find Michael for me?”
She nodded, heading for the spot where she’d last seen him. Was this good news or bad? Impossible to tell from Chief Jamison’s expression. She couldn’t stop apprehension from rising in her.
Michael turned, seeing her and beyond her, the chief’s car. Their eyes met for a moment, and he nodded. As he started toward her, Cathy saw his father hesitate for a long moment and then follow Michael.
Murmuring a probably incoherent prayer, Cathy returned to Jamison. “He’s coming. I—I’ll let you speak with him privately.”
“No, stay.” He put out his hand to detain her. “I’ll need to show you something, too.”
Feeling like an awkward fifth wheel, she lingered, hoping futilely that no one was noticing.
“Michael. Josiah.” Jamison nodded to them. “Just wanted to let you know that we’ve got them—all three of them.”
“That was fast.” Michael looked as surprised as she felt. “How?”
Jamison’s eyes twinkled. “Not so hard. We found them bragging about it over beer at the Rusty Gate Tavern. Bartender called us.”
“These men...were they people we would know?” Josiah asked, and Cathy thought she could hear apprehension in his voice. That was what she dreaded as well. That the vandals would be people they’d thought were friends.
“I doubt it. Couple of lazy loafers who’d do anything for the price of a drink, and a teenager who’d come along for the ride.”
Michael was frowning. “Does that mean you think someone put them up to doing it?”
He’d been quicker than she was, but she saw it now, too. Why would random strangers suddenly decide to pick on Verna’s greenhouse?
“Could be.” The chief was cautious. “They’re not talking, if so. But I haven’t given up on it. Thing is, it won’t be the first time the two older ones have spent thirty days in jail. As for the kid, well, I don’t believe he knows anything. Scared him enough to make him think twice, I hope.”
“If someone incited them, then it’s not over.” Michael said the words evenly, but Cathy could sense the pain behind them, and her heart ached for him.
“I can’t kid you. There’s no way of knowing unless one of them talks.” The chief pulled something from his pocket. “Here’s pictures of the three of them. Mean anything to you?”
Michael took them, scanned them and shook his head. Josiah did the same. He started to hand them back to Jamison, but he shook his head.
“Let Teacher Cathy take a look. Any of those faces familiar to you? Like maybe you might have seen them somewhere near the school?”
“You think one of them might be the person who was spying on recess that day,” she said quickly, trying to keep him from mentioning the person who’d followed her and Allie from school.
“Have a look anyway.”
She took the photos warily, realizing that Josiah was as reluctant to hand them to her as she was to take them. But the faces were strangers.
“No, I’ve never seen any of them.”
Josiah spoke for the first time. “Whoever they are, we forgive them.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Jamison said. “But they’ve broken the law, and they’ll have to face the consequences.”
Cathy’s thoughts honed in on Josiah’s words. He could forgive the vandals so easily. Couldn’t he forgive his own son?
A moment later she had her answer. Josiah put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Komm. We’d best get back to work.”
Another person might think that Michael was unmoved, but Cathy knew him too well for that. She read, so clearly, the sense of relief in his eyes.
Whatever else this trouble might have done, it had closed the chasm between father and son, and her heart overflowed with gratitude.