Marta Perry - When Secrets Strike

Before Sarah could catch her breath at this grand expansion of their original idea, she realized that both her mother and grandmother were nodding eagerly. Was she the only person who saw any flaws in that plan?

“But...that’s a very big job. It will take ages to plan and put together—”

“Not that much if we all work together.” Allison waved away her objection. “It’s all in the organization. I’ve worked on big design expos several times, and the crucial thing is to decide on a date and a place and start getting the promotion out.” She studied Sarah’s expression for a moment and smiled. “Trust me. I do know enough not to dream too big. But even a small one-or two-day event will draw in quilters ready to spend money.”

Mammi nodded. “Look at the Englisch who come to the quilters’ group and class at the shop. They wouldn’t hesitate to travel—why, some of them will drive half a day just to visit a big fabric store or see a quilting demonstration.”

“You girls aren’t going to leave us out,” Grossmammi declared. “What can we do?”

After another half hour of talking, Allison had several lists drawn up, and Sarah’s head was spinning. It was a fine idea, and she didn’t doubt her partner’s ability to plan it out. What did set her stomach churning was the thought of what Allison might decide Sarah should do. Her friend seemed to think Sarah was as brave as she was.

“Goodness, look at the time,” Mammi said, standing. “The boys should be getting to bed.”

Allison gathered her lists together. “I shouldn’t have kept you talking so long, but your input was invaluable. I’ll start working out the plans tonight, and with a little luck and a lot of cooperation, we should be able to put this on by the end of the summer.” She looked at Sarah and her lips twitched just a little. “It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sarah said with mock solemnity. “I’ll get a flashlight and walk out with you.”

The air was still when they stepped outside into the dark, and the sky was spangled with stars. Not a single cloud marred the view.

“If only it would rain,” Sarah said softly. “Everything is so dry.”

“I know.” Allison fumbled in the pocket of her bag for her car keys, and they jingled, the sound carrying in the still night. “But maybe knowing the state police are investigating will scare the firebug into hiding.”

“Maybe.” Sarah wished she could believe that, but somehow she thought he wouldn’t be so easily deterred. “But it seems to me anyone who sets fires for fun isn’t right in the head.”

Allison gave her hand a quick squeeze and then slid into the car. “I know. That is the scary aspect of it. Good night. Take care.”

Sarah stood where she was while Allison turned around, and then watched the taillights until the car disappeared onto the road at the end of the lane.

It was so quiet, the darkness so intense, that it was a relief to see the lights from the Whiting place. Jim had put a pole lamp in back, bathing the area between the house and the first of the outbuildings with its glow. But his barn, like theirs, was dark.

She took a few steps, holding the flashlight loosely in her hand, but not bothering to switch it on. As her eyes grew used to the dark she could make out the lines of each of Daad’s buildings—chicken house, brooder coop, corncrib, barn, a couple sheds. All of them wooden, all of them vulnerable. As long as she was outside, she might as well take a walk around now to be sure all was secure.

Sarah glanced to her left. Across the fields in that direction lay the King farm, and she could just make out the glimmer of the twin silos. Aaron or his daad could be out right now, doing the same thing she was. Nobody would be sleeping well until the firebug was caught.

Taking a firm grip on her courage, Sarah advanced toward the chicken house, switching on the flashlight but keeping the beam lowered. No point in stirring up the chickens when they were in their roosts for the night.

In the instant after she’d turned it on, she heard a sound—quick, low, unidentifiable. Her fingers tightened on the flashlight.

Don’t be ferhoodled , she lectured herself. You wanted to help patrol. You’re not going to back out now because you imagine things, are you?

She listened, but the sound wasn’t repeated. It had probably been one of the hens, disturbed by the unexpected light. She advanced on the henhouse, keeping the beam of her flashlight low, but aiming it into the dense shadows around the building. Nothing. Besides, if any stranger were that close, the hens would certain sure be making a racket.

Sarah moved slowly around the other outbuildings, checking each one. Daad had taken to padlocking any that could be easily locked, making her search easier. All was serene, the dry grass rustling under her feet.

Just the barn now, and her steps quickened. She’d been tempted to leave Molly out in the field tonight, but hadn’t liked to give in to the fear. Still, she’d be glad to double-check to assure herself that the mare was safe.

A sudden sound from the side of the barn made her freeze, and her heart was suddenly pounding so hard she could feel it in her chest. Biting her lip, she raised the torch, remembering in the same instant the promise she’d made to Aaron.

If you hear something, don’t try to deal with it yourself.

But she wasn’t sure. And she couldn’t go running for Daad when it might be nothing but a bird or a bat.

“Is someone there?” Somehow the sound of her own voice was reassuring. “Hello?” She aimed the light, saw something move in the shadows, and drew a breath to yell.

“Sarah? It’s just me.” Jonah King stepped into the circle of light. “You’re not going to scream, ain’t so?”

She managed a chuckle. “No, but I came close. What are you doing here, Jonah?” Aaron’s teenage brother was physically very like Aaron had been at that age, but he had a quick, changeable personality that meant you were never quite sure when he might take offense at something you said. Aaron had always been the same as he was now—steady, calm and dependable.

“I’m taking my turn to patrol.” Sure enough, Jonah sounded a bit prickly. “Daad acts like I can’t be counted on to do it right.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t think that,” she said, hoping to dampen the teen’s irritation. Jonah was at the age to be at odds with his daad, she supposed. It was hard to imagine her little brothers hitting that point, but no doubt they would. “I’m glad you’re here,” she added. “That means I don’t have to go in the barn alone.”

His slight figure seemed to straighten. “Sure, I’ll go with you. Aaron says you shouldn’t be out patrolling, anyway.”

“He does, does he?” She already knew that, but felt a surge of annoyance that Aaron had spoken to young Jonah about it. “It’s just as much my concern as anyone’s. Besides, I want to make sure Molly is okay.”

Jonah swung the door open. “You wait here while I take a quick look,” he said, a note of importance in his tone.

Sarah bit back the response that sprang to her lips. Let Jonah have his moment of masculine strength—he could probably use it if he was on the outs with his daad.

“Denke, Jonah.” She waited while he stepped inside, shining his own flashlight around the barn before gesturing to her to come in.

“Everything looks okay,” he said. “I’ll just check the loft.”

While he clambered up the ladder, she moved to Molly’s stall, crooning to her softly. The mare came to have her muzzle rubbed, whickering.

“That’s my good girl,” Sarah murmured.

Jonah scrambled down a few rungs and then jumped the rest of the way, too impatient to take every step. “All clear,” he said. “I’ll wait and close up for you.”