Marta Perry - When Secrets Strike

MOVING QUIETLY, AARON bent over the twin bed in which Anna slept. At eight, she seemed to be growing out of her clothes practically daily, so Mamm said, but when she was sleeping, with her small face relaxed, her lips a little curved, she was still the baby he’d marveled over when the midwife had put his firstborn in his arms. Her flaxen hair lay in neat braids on the pillow, and one hand curled against her cheek.

Aaron dropped a kiss on her forehead and moved to the other bed. Lena, six, slept as intensely as she did everything, a little wrinkle between her brows as if she concentrated in her dreams. Her hair, as light as her sister’s, spread in wild abandon, having long since lost the ties that were supposed to keep it in braids at night.

Funny that neither of the girls resembled him or Mary Ann. They were much more like his sister Becky in looks. Smoothing the rumpled sheet over Lena’s shoulders, he kissed her, as well. She turned a little, as if she felt his touch in her sleep, and then settled.

His heart always seemed to expand when he saw his precious girls sleeping. They were so vulnerable, so utterly dependent on him for their present and their future. He would do anything to assure that future.

The thought reminded him of the day’s disappointment, and he was frowning as he tiptoed out into the hall, easing the door closed behind him. If he’d been able to buy the Gibson place, he wouldn’t have to worry so much about providing for his kinder. Matt Gibson’s action had been as surprising as it was upsetting. Aaron would never have expected the man to let him down this way.

He started down the stairs, running his hand along the banister worn smooth by generations of his family. He loved being back here in the house where he was raised, instead of the small house Mary Ann had wanted to rent on the other side of town. This was certainly the best place for his girls, with Mamm and Becky to look after them. The addition of the Gibson place to Daad’s farm would have allowed that situation to continue. Now—well, now Aaron wasn’t sure what to do next.

He’d probably vented a bit too much to Sarah, but it didn’t matter. He hadn’t wanted to let his parents see how upset he was, because they shouldn’t have to worry about him.

But Sarah was safe. He could say anything to her and know it would go no further. Sarah was, as she’d always been, loyal and honest all the way through. She’d never told on him and the other boys when they were kids, even to save herself from trouble. He hadn’t realized how close they’d been until adolescence seemed to push them apart with his sudden awareness of her as a female, not just a friend.

Mamm, Daad and Becky had gathered in the kitchen as they often did in the evening. He paused, rubbing the tension at the back of his neck and trying to erase his frown before he joined them.

As usual, Mamm was piecing together a patch for one of her intricate quilts. Becky, at seventeen nearly as skilled with a needle as Mamm, had material for a dress laid out on the table. Daad sat with a last cup of coffee, the Amish newspaper on his lap.

“They’re both asleep, ain’t so?” Mamm smiled at Aaron, her soft brown eyes crinkling behind her wire-rimmed glasses. “You don’t find Anna and Lena awake and looking out the window at the stars, like you used to do.”

“Sound asleep,” he agreed. He considered a cup of coffee and decided against it. It didn’t seem to bother Daad to drink it this late, but Aaron would be staring at the stars again if he had any. “Jonah is out, is he?”

Mamm nodded, sending a slightly worried glance toward his father. Sure enough, Daad rustled the paper with a bit of irritation.

“I don’t see why the boy has to stay out so late on a weeknight,” he muttered. “We’ll have to yank him out of bed when it’s time for the morning milking.”

“Ach, Jonah isn’t that bad,” Aaron said peaceably. “He might be half-asleep, but the cows don’t mind.”

Daad didn’t seem satisfied. “Wish I knew what he was up to. He’s not near as responsible as you were when you were going through your rumspringa.”

“Funny.” Aaron grinned, catching his mother’s eye to exchange a knowing look. “I don’t recall you saying so at the time.”

“Just leave Jonah to have his fun.” Becky glanced up from her cutting, the scissors in her hand. “He’s not up to any mischief, ain’t so, Aaron?”

“That’s right,” Aaron agreed, although he knew Becky would gladly cover up for Jonah if need be. The two younger ones were so close in age that they’d formed a special bond, always looking out for each other. Much as Aaron tried to bridge it, the age gap between him and his brother was just too big for Jonah to confide in him.

Daad grunted, giving the paper a shake. “Hope you’re right, that’s all.” He let the newspaper flop down again to look at Aaron. “You know, I was thinking about Matthew Gibson going and selling his place without a word to you. Seems to me you should write to him. Just ask him what happened.”

Aaron shook his head. “It wouldn’t do any good now. The matter’s settled, from what Preston told me.”

“Well, I’d still write.” Daad’s graying beard seemed to bristle. “Must be some explanation.”

Maybe, but he didn’t feel like ruffling any feathers over it. Matt Gibson had the right to do as he pleased with his property.

Daad looked as if he intended to press the matter, but before he could say anything else, an unexpected sound crackled through the quiet kitchen, startling them. Scarlet-faced, Becky dived for the drawer of the china closet and unearthed her cell phone.

“Sorry, Daadi. I forgot to switch it off.” She turned with the phone in her hand. It was jingling a tune that was certain sure not typical for an Amish household.

Aaron fought to control his twitching lips. “Maybe you ought to see who it is,” he suggested. Daad had tried to hold out against the use of cell phones, but as Mammi had pointed out, all the rumspringa teens had them, and Jonah and Becky must learn to be responsible with temptations if they were to live Amish.

Daad had given in, with the stipulation that the phones be turned off in the house. Now he frowned at Becky as she checked the screen. She looked up, puzzled. “It’s from Nick Whiting. Why would he be calling me?”

Aaron’s nerves jumped. “Check it. It might be important.”

Becky glanced at their father, got a nod in response and clicked the phone. She held it to her ear, and Aaron saw her face lose its usual rosy color. She murmured something, clicked off and turned to him.

“Barn fire,” she said, voice shaking. “At the Stoltzfus place. He says he’ll be here for you in a minute.”

Aaron didn’t wait for more. He bolted toward the back closet where his gear was kept, grabbed it and plunged outside. By the time he reached the driveway, Nick’s pickup truck came roaring toward him, its beams piercing the dark.

Scrambling in, he braced a hand on the dash as Nick made a fast U-turn and headed back out the drive.

“How bad is it?”

“Don’t know, I just heard it’s the barn.” Nick’s expression was grim in the reflected glow from the dashboard. “If they didn’t get the animals out...”

He didn’t bother to finish. He didn’t need to. They swung onto the blacktop road, and Aaron could see it now—the red glow in the eastern sky that heralded a blaze, and someone’s livelihood going up in smoke.

“No lightning tonight,” he commented. “And Ben’s one of the most careful men I know when it comes to safety.”

Nick nodded. “Maybe this will get the state police fire marshal moving in our direction at last. Another fire can’t be a coincidence.”