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  Gray would never believe her if Margaret told him she suspected Braden was responsible for the burglary and vandalism of Lindy’s shop. But in that moment, Margaret was as certain as if she had witnessed the acts herself.

  CHAPTER 31

  James wandered down Main Street on Wednesday afternoon in no particular hurry. With Gideon’s assurance that he intended to stay close to the house and barn today, James had taken his wagon into town with items from several Amish farms to trade for credit at the mercantile, and then picked up birdhouses, quilt racks, and toys from Lindy to deliver to the furniture store that kept her items on hand to attract customers who appreciated Amish craftsmanship. He caught her just before she left for a shopping trip in Chardon. With his tasks complete, James left his horse and wagon with the blacksmith at the edge of Seabury to reshoe the mare and relished the idea of an unhurried walk in the brisk fall air.

  When James had enough of studying the English display windows and trying to fathom what the women found so compelling about the rising hemlines and the attraction of homburg hats and striped waistcoats for men, he moseyed toward the hardware store. Browsing there was never without benefit. James bypassed the aisles of electrical gadgets, which seemed to take up more space every year, and instead inspected the latest unadorned tools and work gloves that would serve a practical purpose. He had a hammer in his hand, testing its weight, when the voices from the next aisle wafted over the bins of nails and screws.

  “Deputy Fremont is on his way now,” one man said.

  “What for this time?” his companion responded.

  “Don’t know for sure. My wife just talked to his housekeeper. He was in such a hurry that he left half his lunch uneaten.”

  “The Amish farms, you say?”

  James’s breath stilled.

  “The paperwork came through, I guess.”

  “Paperwork?”

  “The housekeeper didn’t see all the details. Just saw a few names. “Hilty. Hershberger. Wittmer. Several others, I think.”

  “More fines, I suppose.”

  “I think the law has something more in mind this time. He just needs a judge’s signature. If those families can’t take proper care of their children, then the state will.”

  The hammer clattered out of James’s hand and he bolted up the aisle, past the counter, and out the door.

  At Percival Eggar’s office, James burst through the door. The bespectacled secretary looked up, startled.

  “I need Mr. Eggar,” James said. “It’s an emergency.”

  “I’m afraid he isn’t here,” the young man said. “He went to Cleveland today.”

  Cleveland!

  “When is he due back?”

  “I’m afraid I couldn’t say. His instructions were that I should close the office at six o’clock because he did not expect to return before then.”

  James wheeled back out to Main Street. The blacksmith was a good mile and a half away, a distance not in the least daunting under leisure circumstances, even for a man James’s age, but more fearsome when every moment was of the essence. James set off with a brisk pace and soon forced himself to trot. If he could get back to the farms soon enough, he could warn the others. There were dozens of places to hide on the farms where Deputy Fremont would never think to look. James covered the distance in eighteen minutes.

  “I need my rig,” James told the blacksmith. “I’ll have to bring it back another day.”

  “I just got all the shoes off the mare.”

  “I’ll have to take her anyway.”

  The blacksmith shook his head. “You know better, James. You can’t take a horse used to being shod out barefoot and expect her to handle the roads between here and your farm. She’ll be far too tender.”

  James sighed. The man was right.

  “How long will it take?”

  “Now, James, you know the answer to that. I haven’t begun to clean the hoofs yet, and I’m not going to rush and risk an ill-fitting shoe. It’s not fair to the horse and won’t do you any good in the end, either.”

  Right again. “Then I need to borrow a horse. I don’t even need a saddle.” He could leave the wagon and ride bareback.

  “Look around,” the blacksmith said. “I don’t have any to spare. I’m not running a livery.”

  James rubbed his temples. Lindy was gone in her car to Chardon, where she sometimes took orders and collected supplies. “I need a ride in your automobile. It’s an emergency.”

  “The wife took the car to go visit her mother. I thought it would make things easier if I taught her to drive, and now she gallivants all over the place.”

  James blew out his breath. “Can you keep the mare overnight, then?”

  “What’s going on, James?”

  “I’m not sure,” James said. “I just know I have to get home.”

  When he was a young man, James had been a strong runner. He used to win all the races at the frolics by several strides. He prayed that his muscles would still know what to do all these years later.

  Maybe James was right. Maybe Miriam was just feeling her age and refusing to accept the limitations it brought. Miriam was in the kitchen when Ella walked home with Gertie and Savilla. Still-warm cookies adorned the table beside a jug of milk from that morning, and Miriam was in the midst of slicing onions, celery, and squash on a cutting board at the counter. A chicken in a roasting pan was ready for the oven. Still, it seemed to Ella that Miriam was moving slowly, with slumped shoulders in need of rest. Ella would feel better if she could talk to James. She left the girls to enjoy their snack and chatter with Miriam and went in search of James.

  “He’s not here,” Gideon said when Ella found him in the barn. “He went into town for the day. I imagine by now the blacksmith has finished with the mare and James is on his way home.”

  “Miriam needs to slow down,” Ella said.

  “I know. James knows. Even Miriam knows,” Gideon said. “I had to stop her churning butter this morning. If she would take it easy for a few weeks, she could get properly rested.”

  “And I’ll be here in a few weeks,” Ella said. “She won’t have to feel like she’s responsible for everything around the house.”

  Ella expected immediate agreement. Instead, Gideon’s gaze shifted.

  “Gideon?”

  “You’re right,” Gideon said, meeting her eyes again. “Another woman on the farm would take the load off of Miriam.”

  Another woman. Ella hated the distance in Gideon’s choice of words. His face gave nothing more away. Ella pulled her thoughts back to James.

  “Would you mind if I took your small buggy and went to look for James?” she asked.

  “You know you’re always welcome to the buggy,” Gideon said, “but James will be home well before supper.”

  “I have an odd feeling about all this.”

  “I’m sure everything’s fine. I knew it would be a long day away for James. That’s why I promised to stay close to the house.”

  “I can’t explain it, Gideon. I just want to go see if I can meet him on the road. Besides, I’d like to talk to him about Miriam without worrying that she’s going to come into the room.”

  “She does have an uncanny way of appearing when we’re whispering behind her back,” Gideon said. “I’ll hitch up the buggy for you.”

  With the reins in her hands a few minutes later, Ella took the team out to the main road and turned toward town. She did not push the horse for speed. Rather, her impulse was for care in what she noticed. James might have turned off somewhere with a delivery Gideon was unaware he planned to make, or perhaps he had detoured to give someone a ride home from Seabury. As she drifted along the side of the road, leaving ample room for passing automobiles whose drivers would be frustrated by her strolling pace, Ella leaned forward to look down the lanes for any sign of James’s rig.

  An approaching driver leaned on a horn—unnecessarily, since Ella was not impeding his path. The vehicle’s high speed, churning up dust an
d gravel, alarmed Ella. When she saw it was one of the sheriff’s cars, her heart lurched. Close behind was a bus similar to the ones the children rode to school in town. But the canvas sides of the bus were rolled up, and Ella could see that it was empty. The two vehicles seemed to be keeping pace with each other. Ella stopped her buggy as she watched them pass in the other direction.

  “Why should they do anything to innocent children?” Gideon had said barely twenty-four hours ago. “The children are safe.”

  Ella was not so sure.

  She scanned for a spot in the road wide enough to turn the buggy around. The horse’s ears lay back as it pulled toward the edge of the road.

  “Whoa!” Ella tugged on the reins, wary of going into the shallow ditch.

  To Ella’s relief, the horse stopped. Only then did she hear the moan. She jumped out of the buggy.

  James lay in the ditch with a lump the size of a chicken egg swelling out of his forehead.

  “James!” Ella knelt beside him.

  He moaned again. Ella looked around. Where was his wagon? Had the mare spooked at the speeding sheriff’s car and bus?

  “Too fast,” James said. “I went too fast but not fast enough.”

  “You’re not talking sense.” Gently, Ella touched the lump on his head.

  “I got dizzy,” James said. “I was running too fast.”

  “What happened to your horse?”

  “At the blacksmith’s.” James labored to catch his breath. “She had no shoes. I wanted to warn everyone.”

  Ella’s gut plummeted. “Is this about Deputy Fremont?”

  James sat up slowly. “Good. You have a buggy. We can still let them know. Gideon’s on the list.”

  Ella peered down the road. The sheriff’s car was long out of view. Even the dust it had displaced in its path had settled again.

  It was too late.

  Margaret rapped on the workshop door before shading her eyes to look in a window and determine that Lindy was not inside. She paced to the back door of the house and knocked again.

  When the door opened, it was David Kaufman’s eyes looking back at Margaret.

  “Is Lindy here?” Margaret asked.

  David shook his head. “She went to Chardon. She called a little while ago and said she decided to stay and have supper with a friend.”

  “So she’s safe.”

  David’s eyes flashed from side to side. “Did you see something?”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Ever since school let out. I came straight home.”

  “Good. Just let Lindy know I was checking on her. You know where to find me if you need something.”

  David nodded. “Thank you.”

  “And David, look around. Make sure you don’t notice anything missing from the house.”

  Exhaling, Margaret turned to cross the street. She had no appetite for supper. She only wanted to think.

  And pray.

  There had to be an answer to all this perplexity.

  And there he was, Braden Truesdale still standing on the street a block and a half down. If he had good reason to be in the neighborhood in the first place, certainly he’d had plenty of time to finish his business and be on his way.

  And what was in that ridiculous bag?

  Margaret marched down the street. He saw her coming and made no effort to move.

  “I feel compelled,” Margaret said, meeting his eyes, “to ask you once again what your business is on this street.”

  “Does Gray know you’re so nosy?” Braden said.

  “We are not discussing Gray.” Margaret gripped the handle of her satchel, prepared to swing it if necessary. “What’s in that flour sack?”

  “Not your business.”

  “I’ll have a word with Deputy Fremont,” Margaret said. “He may find it interesting that you were on this street on this day with that bag in your possession.”

  “Deputy Fremont is otherwise occupied,” Braden said. “And if I were you, I’d stay out of the Amish problem, because it will soon be messier than you ever imagined.”

  “I demand that you explain yourself.”

  Braden laughed and sauntered up the sidewalk.

  CHAPTER 32

  Gideon put both hands on the back of Miriam’s shoulders as she stood in the kitchen and leaned forward to speak softly into her left ear.

  “Take a rest,” he said. “I’ve given the girls chores to do upstairs. They won’t bother you.”

  “Your kinner are never a bother to me.” Miriam continued to layer cut vegetables around the chicken in the roasting pan.

  “I know my children,” Gideon said. “Savilla is settling down as she gets older, but Gertie can still be a handful. Go put your feet up for a few minutes while they’re occupied.”

  Miriam laid her wooden spoon on the counter and rotated to face him. “I could do with a cup of kaffi.”

  “I’ll make it.” Gideon reached for the coffeepot on the stove before Miriam could get to it.

  “It just needs warming,” Miriam said.

  “Then I’ll warm it.” Gideon pointed to the comfortable chair he and James had positioned in the kitchen weeks ago. “Go. Sit.”

  Miriam settled in with a sigh while Gideon added wood to the stove. “Don’t get the stove too hot,” she said, “or it will be too much to roast the chicken.”

  “Just enough to get the kaffi hot quickly,” Gideon said. He set out two mugs. If he drank coffee with Miriam, she would rest a few minutes. If he left the room, she would set her mug aside after the second sip and discover a task that had transformed from unseen to urgent.

  Gideon was pouring the coffee when a solid knock sounded at the front door.

  “What in the world?” he said, standing.

  Miriam tilted out of her chair. “I’ll get it.”

  When the door did not open immediately, the knock became a pounding. Gideon followed Miriam through the dining room and across the front room.

  Miriam opened the door, and Gideon stared into the eyes of Deputy Fremont.

  “I paid the fine promptly,” Gideon said.

  “We’re beyond fines.” Deputy Fremont pushed Miriam aside and entered the house, leaving another uniformed man on the porch.

  Indignation burned through Gideon. “You will treat Mrs. Lehman with respect.” Behind him two sets of young feet clattered down the stairs.

  “Gideon Wittmer,” the deputy said, “you are under arrest for contributing to the delinquency of three minors, Tobias Wittmer, Savilla Wittmer, and Gertrude Wittmer.”

  “I know my children’s names,” Gideon said.

  “Apparently the fines did not make you see the error of your ways,” the deputy said. “Perhaps jail will make a stronger impression.”

  “Daed!”

  Gideon looked over his shoulder at his daughters. “You listen to Aunti Miriam and do what she tells you to do.”

  “Don’t worry about the children,” Fremont said. “We have a plan for them as well.”

  “Miriam,” Gideon said, “send Tobias to town to find Mr. Eggar.”

  “I’m afraid Tobias is not going into town,” Fremont said. He cocked his head toward the bus parked in front of the house.

  The back door creaked open, steps crossed the kitchen, and Tobias appeared. Confusion clouded his eyes.

  “Take care of the girls,” Gideon said. “Miriam, remember, Mr. Percival Eggar. He will know what to do.”

  Ella helped James into the buggy and urged the horse to maximum speed. By the time they arrived at the Wittmer farm, only Miriam remained, tearful, leaning against a post on the front porch. She straightened when she saw James emerge from the buggy.

  Ella took his elbow. “Are you sure you’re steady enough to walk?”

  “What in the world happened to you?” Miriam came down the steps of the porch.

  “I have to admit I’ve never had such a headache in all my life.” James divided his weight between Miriam and Ella until they got him se
ttled in a chair on the porch. Miriam chipped ice off the block in the bottom of the icebox and wrapped it in a towel to press against her husband’s head.

  “We’re too late, aren’t we?” James said.

  “The sheriff’s officers took Gideon,” Miriam said, “and they took the children in a bus—all three of them.”

  Ella’s heart thudded. In one afternoon, intuition had grown into fear, and fear into reality.

  “Your father is on the list,” Miriam said.

  “But the boys both have been going to school,” Ella said. “Seth has only been in my class since last week.”

  “Before that, he wasn’t doing his homework. That’s negligence and delinquency according to the papers.”

  “Show me,” James said.

  Miriam produced the papers Gideon had left with her.

  “Ella, you need to go,” James said.

  “But you’re hurt,” Ella said, trying to look over James’s shoulder and scan the legal papers for herself.

  “Take the buggy and go. Now.”

  His tone mobilized Ella. She raced back out to Gideon’s buggy, picked up the reins, and clicked her tongue. The horse circled the yard to get turned before falling into a familiar trot up the lane.

  Faster. We have to go faster.

  The more she urged the horse, the more the buggy swayed. Finally she was at the final intersection, and she tugged the reins to make the turn.

  Her father stood in the yard, twenty feet from the deputy’s automobile. Ella urged the horse to pull the buggy parallel to the vehicle.

  “Gideon!”

  Smudged glass separated them, but at the sound of Ella’s voice, Gideon turned toward her. Ella leaped out of the buggy.

  “Step back.” The voice was male, deep, unyielding.

  Ella looked up now and saw Seth being loaded into the bus she had seen on the main road. Gideon’s three children leaned out of the bus. Tobias had one arm around each sister. Ella ran to them, squeezing the girls’ outstretched hands.

  “God is with you!” she said. “God will not leave you!”