A Sister's Hope (12 page)

Martha leaned heavily against Luke’s chest, and the nearness of her was almost his undoing. He wanted to tell Martha how much he’d come to care for her. He wanted to ask if he could court her. But it was too soon for that. He needed to clear his name before he could declare his intentions.

Slowly, Martha pulled away. “I’d better go now. Good night.” She hurried off before Luke could find his voice.

Boom! Boom!

Roman bolted upright in bed.
That sounds like gunfire. Is someone hunting nearby?
He had posted No H
UNTING
signs on his property several weeks ago, so surely whoever was hunting couldn’t be too close.

Boom! Boom! Boom!
More gunfire in rapid succession.

“Roman, that sounded like gunfire!” Judith exclaimed.

“I know, and I think it’s real close.” Roman scrambled out of bed and slipped into his trousers.

“Where are you going?”

“Outside, to see what’s up.”

Judith scrambled out of bed and raced to the window. “It’s not even fully light.”

“It’s light enough for me to see, and I’m going to check things out. If someone’s hunting on our property, I’ll run ’em off.”

Judith clutched his arm. “But they’ve got a gun. What if they’re not hunters at all? What if—”

He held up his hand to silence her. “I’ll be okay, Judith.”

She grimaced, a look of desperation on her face. “How can you be so sure?”

“There are no certainties in life, but as Christians, we’re supposed to trust God to take care of us.”

“That doesn’t mean we should put ourselves in danger foolishly.”

“There’s nothing foolish about a man going out to see if someone’s hunting on his property.” Roman slipped into his boots then turned to face her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. While I’m gone, why don’t you get breakfast started?”

“I won’t be able to fix breakfast until you’re back in the house and I know everything’s all right.”

He patted her shoulder. “I’ll be fine; you’ll see.”

When Roman stepped outside a few minutes later, he was greeted by the chattering of squirrels eating from one of the bird feeders. He listened for more gunfire but heard none. Apparently, the shooter had either bagged a deer or moved on.

Just to be sure everything was okay, he decided to walk the fence line. He started with the fence closest to the house and moved on back. When he came to the pasture where he kept his beef cows, he halted. Five of them lay dead! That gunfire hadn’t been from a hunter at all. Someone had deliberately shot his cows!

Martha groaned and rolled over in bed. She’d been dreaming about someone shooting a gun and chasing after Luke. She rubbed her forehead, trying to clear her mind. It hadn’t been a dream. She’d heard a gun go off; she was sure of it.

Martha scrambled out of bed and raced over to the window. Someone stood in the pasture where Dad’s beef cows were kept. She squinted against the early morning light. It looked like Dad, and he seemed to be bent over something. Alarm rose in her chest. Had someone been shot?

She slipped into her sneakers, threw on her robe, and dashed from the room. She met Mom in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs. “What’s going on? I thought I heard a gun go off, and when I looked out the window, I saw Dad in the pasture.”

“It was gunfire,” Mom said. “Your daed thought someone might be hunting on our property. Against my wishes, he went outside to check on things.”

Martha raced out the back door, tore across the yard, and headed straight for the pasture. She found Dad kneeling in front of a cow. He looked up and slowly shook his head. “It’s been shot dead, along with four others.”

Martha gasped then covered her mouth with her hand, horrified. It was bad enough that five of Dad’s prized cows were dead. What if whoever had shot the cows had been lurking in the field last night when she and Luke had been looking for clues? If the shooter had discovered them, their lives could have been in danger.

M
artha 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.