A Sister's Hope

O
THER
B
OOKS BY
W
ANDA
E. B
RUNSTETTER:

D
AUGHTERS OF
L
ANCASTER
C
OUNTY
S
ERIES

The Store Keeper’s Daughter
The Quilter’s Daughter
The Bishop’s Daughter

B
RIDES OF
L
ANCASTER
C
OUNTY
S
ERIES

A Merry Heart
Looking for a Miracle
Plain and Fancy
The Hope Chest

S
ISTERS OF
H
OLMES
C
OUNTY
S
ERIES

A Sister’s Secret
A Sister’s Test

B
RIDES OF
W
EBSTER
C
OUNTY
S
ERIES

Going Home
On Her Own
Dear to Me
Allison’s Journey

N
ONFICTION

The Simple Life
Wanda E. Brunstetter’s Amish Friends Cookbook

C
HILDREN’S
B
OOKS

Rachel Yoder. . .Always Trouble Somewhere Series:
School’s Out (Book 1)
Back to School (Book 2)
Out of Control (Book 3)
New Beginnings (Book 4)

W
ANDA
E
.
B
RUNSTETTER

© 2008 by Wanda E. Brunstetter

ISBN 978-1-60742-048-4

All scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

All German-Dutch words are taken from the
Revised Pennsylvania German Dictionary
used in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

Cover Design: The DesignWorks Group,
www.thedesignworksgroup.com
Cover Photo: Steve Gardner, PixelWorks Studios,
www.shootpw.com

For more information about Wanda E. Brunstetter, please access the author’s Web site at the following Internet address:
www.wandabrunstetter.com

Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, OH 44683,
www.barbourbooks.com

Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

Printed in the United States of America.

D
EDICATION
/A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

To my dear friends, Jake and Sara Smucker, whose hope is fixed on Jesus.

With great appreciation, I wish to thank the following Ohio friends who shared information with me related to Holmes County, Ohio:
Esta and Melvin Miller, Monk and Marijane Troyer, Tom and Connie Troyer, Lori Schlabach, Marlene Miller, and Sig and Evie Kobus. I also want to thank Rebecca Germany and Becky Durost Fish, my helpful editors. Most of all, I thank my heavenly Father, who continues to give me the inspiration and desire to write for Him.

Be of good courage,
and he shall strengthen your heart,
all ye that hope in the L
ORD
.
P
SALM
31:24

A
r-ou-ou! Ar-ou-ou!

Piercing howls roused Martha Hostettler from her sleep, and she rolled over in bed.

Ar-ou-ou! Ar-ou-ou!

There it was again. That couldn’t be Polly. The beagle had a high-pitched howl, not deep and penetrating. Polly’s mate, Beau, must be making that awful noise.

Martha turned on the flashlight she kept on the nightstand and pointed the light at her battery-operated clock. It was three o’clock. None of Martha’s dogs ever barked or howled during the night unless something was amiss. Could Heidi have had her pups? The sheltie wasn’t due for another week or so. Maybe Beau had sensed what was going on and wanted to let Martha know.

She shook her head, trying to clear away the cobwebs of sleep.
That’s ridiculous. Beau might be able to sense that Heidi’s having a problem, but I doubt he’s smart enough to let me know. Something else must have disturbed the dog.

Martha thought of the day she’d found her sheltie Fritz tied to a tree. One of his legs had also been tied up, and a bowl of water had been placed just out of his reach. Another time, Martha had found one of her puppies in the yard with its neck broken. She had wondered if whoever had been vandalizing her family’s property and attacking them in other ways could have been responsible for the puppy’s death.

A tremor shot through her body. What if someone was in the
barn right now? What if they planned to hurt one of her dogs?

She pushed the covers aside and jumped out of bed. Dashing across the room, she slipped into her bathrobe, stepped into her sneakers, grabbed the flashlight, and rushed out of her room.

When Martha stepped outside, she shivered as a chilly breeze rustled the leaves. Martha hurried across the yard. As she approached the barn, she tipped her head and listened. Beau had stopped howling. The dog could have been spooked by one of the horses on the other side of the barn. She was probably worried for nothing.

Holding the flashlight with one hand and grasping the handle of the door with the other, Martha stepped into the barn.
Clunk! Splat!
Something cool and wet hit the top of her head. The sticky liquid dripped down her face and oozed onto her neck.

Martha aimed the flashlight at the front of her robe and groaned. She was covered in white paint! She flashed a beam of light upward and gasped. A bucket connected to a piece of rope had been suspended above the barn door. Someone had deliberately set this up! Was it a prank by some unruly kids?
Or could this be another attack?

She reached for a cardboard box on a nearby shelf and fumbled around until she located a clean rag. She blotted the paint from her face the best she could. The ammonia smell identified the paint as latex. At least it would clean up with soap and warm water.

Martha hurried to her dog kennels in the back of the barn. Relief swept over her when she saw that all of the dogs—Polly, Beau, Fritz, and Heidi—were okay. And Heidi still hadn’t delivered her pups.

When Martha reached through the wire fencing and patted Beau on the head, he looked up at her and whined.

“Go back to sleep, boy. Everything’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. Someone had sneaked into their barn and rigged up the bucket. How long ago had it been done? Could they still be in the barn?

Martha swept the barn with her flashlight but saw no one. Satisfied that nothing else seemed to have been disturbed, she hurried outside. Glancing down, she noticed an empty pack of cigarettes on the ground.

Rustling sounded in the distance. She aimed her flashlight toward the field of dried corn behind their house. A man was running through the fields. She sucked in her breath. It was hard to tell much from this distance in the dark, but it looked like he wore a straw hat, the kind Amish men used.

Martha shuddered.
If I tell Dad about seeing the man, he’ll think it was Luke.
For some time, her father had suspected Luke of attacking their family, but she was convinced Luke was innocent. At least, she hoped he was.