Chapter Thirty

My parents’ farm isn’t far from here. Do you mind if we stop?”

I peered at Timothy at the wheel of his pickup. My mind whirred from our conversation with Aaron, so I was glad for the distraction. “No. It will be nice to see the kids again and your grandfather. I like him a lot.”

“He likes you too. I can tell.”

Unlike the first time we arrived at the Troyer farm, there were no children to greet us. The front door was closed, and everything was eerily quiet.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” Timothy spoke barely above a whisper. “Mabel, stay in the truck.”

The canine rolled over, kicking her legs in her sleep.

We stepped through the open screen door and onto the front porch. Timothy knocked twice on the wooden door that led into the house, but no answer. He tried the knob, and shrank back. “It’s locked.”

The third time he knocked with force, and we could hear Naomi crying on the other side of the door. Angry voices spoke back and forth in Pennsylvania Dutch.

Finally, the door flung open and Grandfather Zook stood there on his metal crutches, his face drawn. “Timothy, your father said this isn’t a gut time.”

“What’s going on?” The color in Timothy’s face had deepened.

His grandfather just shook his head.

“I’m going inside.” Timothy glanced at me. “Chloe, can you stay out here?”

As Timothy disappeared inside the house, Grandfather Zook hobbled out onto the porch. “It’s a nice evening. I’d rather be outside. Can you walk with me a bit, Chloe?”

Our walk went as far as the pine bench overlooking Mrs. Troyer’s vegetable garden. Grandfather Zook lowered himself onto the bench and removed his braces, placing them on the ground beside him. “Why don’t you come over here and take a seat?”

I sat next to him.

Grandfather Zook sighed, and for the first time he seemed like the old man that he was. “My family is from Lancaster, but my wife is from Knox County originally. I met her once when I visited Knox as a young man. I fell in love the minute I met my Louise.” He shook his head and gave a small laugh. “It took lots of letter writing to convince her to love me back and to move all the way to Lancaster. She finally did it even though her family would have preferred she marry a local boy.”

He smoothed his beard over his shirt. “Martha, Timothy’s mother, is my oldest daughter. We had trouble with her from the get-go. She was rebellious from the day she was born. Louise and I were at our wits’ end. We were afraid for Martha, afraid she’d leave the Amish way. When she was seventeen, we shipped her to Knox County to live with my wife’s family.” He laughed again. “We wanted to scare her straight. Although I am Old Order Amish, my district back in Lancaster is much more relaxed than the one here. Much to our surprise, Martha met Simon and fell in love. She told us she was going to marry him and stay here. We were happy she was staying within our faith. Yes, the congregation here was stricter, but it seemed to be what she needed.”

I tried to imagine Timothy’s quiet mother as a rebellious Amish teenager. The image of the demur woman acting out didn’t fit. “The rest of your family is in Lancaster, then?”

He nodded. “They are. I have eight other children. They all have families with children.”

“Why did you move here?”

He picked a twig off the bench and rolled it back and forth between his fingers. “Many Amish families have more than five children. Martha and her husband could have had more, but my daughter was plagued with miscarriages. I’ve told her a hundred times it wasn’t true, but she feels those miscarriages were punishment for her rebellious years.”

“That’s awful.”

“After my beloved wife died, all of my children asked me to live with them, including Martha. I decided to move here because she was pregnant with Naomi at the time. This was three years ago. I wanted to be with her in case the worst would happen again. The best person to be with her would have been her mother, but the Lord had already called her home.” He smiled. “Naomi was born, and she was perfect. I never went back to Lancaster. I liked the slower, quieter pace here. It was a nice place to retire and spend my final years on this earth.”

He sighed then winked. “You can take the Amish man out of Lancaster, but you can’t take the Lancaster out of the Amish man. My son-in-law has been a good husband and provider for Martha and their children, but he’s a stern man. He listens to his bishop, his preachers, and his deacon.” He stressed deacon at the end of the sentence.

A row of pumpkin vines in the garden were flowering. It wouldn’t be long before those flowers turned into fruit. Before we knew it, fall would be upon us. It would be my first fall in the country. I breathed it all in and turned to Grandfather Zook. “And what did those men tell him?”

His eyes drooped, as if filled with sadness. “He should stay away from Becky and you until the business with the accident is over. He should keep the younger children from you and Becky.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “What about Timothy?”

“The deacon didn’t mention Timothy in particular. However if Timothy continues his contact with you and his sister, I wouldn’t be surprised if the deacon returned and added that warning onto his list.”

“Why are you telling me this? I assume the deacon gave you the same warning.”

“He did.” Grandfather Zook stared at the whitewashed farmhouse as if trying to see through it. “I’ve learned that what is right for me is not right for my daughter. Now my son-in-law and daughter must learn that what is right for them may not be right for their own children. Louise and I had been so afraid Martha would leave the Amish, and I still believe that leaving would have been a mistake for my daughter. However, I’ve since learned there is not one right way to be obedient to the Lord.”

The screen door slammed shut, and Timothy stormed down the steps. “Chloe,” he called. “I’m ready to go.”

Grandfather Zook bumped my shoulder. “You should go.”

I leaned over and gave him a hug.

Timothy was silent the entire ride back to Appleseed Creek, even though I wanted to ask him what happened inside his parents’ house. What did they say? What did they not say? How did it all affect Becky? Him? And even me?

It was nearly six when he turned into the driveway. I hoped Becky hadn’t waited for me to eat supper. For the first time that day, I wondered how her first day at the greenhouse had gone.

Timothy didn’t turn off the truck.

I opened the passenger side door. “Good night.”

He laid his hand on my forearm. “Thanks for coming with me today, Chloe.”

I blinked. A tingle radiated from where his hand touched my bare arm. “You’re thanking me? I was the one who asked you to get involved in this investigation.”

“I was already involved whether you asked for my help or not.”

The door stuck. He leaned across my body and pushed it open. “Good night. Take care of your shoulder. I’ll let you know when I hear from Aaron about Hettie Glick.”