When Secrets Strike

She straightened. Best to ignore his last remark, she decided. “Thank you for coming by. I’ll be sure to tell Julia about seeing you.”

For a moment Gus stood there, close enough that she could smell the rank odor of his clothes. Then the bell on the door jingled, and he jerked around. In another instant he shambled out of the shop, brushing by Aaron King without a word.

Aaron frowned after him before crossing the space to her. “What was Gus Hill doing in here?” He studied her face, his brown eyes seeming to darken. “Was he bothering you?”

“No, no.” Gus was harmless enough, despite his manner. “He came by because Julia told him he should thank me, but I could have done without the visit.” She pulled the bolt of yellow cotton from the rack. Sure enough, there was a streak of dirt almost the width of the fabric.

Aaron grasped the bolt, preventing her from walking away. “I glanced in the window when I walked past. You didn’t look right. That’s why I came in.”

“I’m fine.” She would not be moved by the protectiveness in Aaron’s manner. It didn’t mean anything. “I was just cringing at his touching this material.” She gestured toward the bolt, hoping she sounded natural. “Look at it. I’ll have to cut off the end.”

Without responding, Aaron took the bolt and carried it to the cutting table for her. She could feel his gaze on her while she moved behind the table and picked up the scissors. Before she could cut, he put his hand lightly on hers, making her pulse jump.

“We’re friends, Sarah. You’d tell me if something’s troubling you, ain’t so?”

“There’s nothing. I’m fine.” It took a conscious effort to draw her hand away from his. “What brings you to Blackburn House this morning? You’re not shopping for quilting fabric any more than Gus was, that’s certain sure.”

She said the words lightly and was surprised by the way his brows drew down and his lips tightened.

“Aaron?” she questioned. “Was ist letz? What’s wrong?”

His broad shoulders moved in a shrug. “Nothing’s wrong. I came by to check on something with Harvey Preston, that’s all.”

Preston was the real estate agent who had an office on the second floor, and she couldn’t help a natural curiosity about Aaron’s business with him. “From your expression, you weren’t happy with his answer, ain’t so?” She smiled up at him. “We’re friends, remember? You can tell me if something’s troubling you.” She repeated his words back to him.

Aaron started to shake his head and then broke off, his lips moving in an answering smile. “Guess I can’t say it’s not your concern, ain’t so? You remember that I talked to Matthew Gibson before he took off for Florida last fall?”

“You offered to buy his place if he was thinking of selling.” Gibson’s property was across the road from that of Aaron’s family. It would make a nice addition to the farm, probably doubling the size.

“He hadn’t made up his mind then, but he promised me that I’d have the first chance at it when he was ready to sell.” Aaron’s clear gaze clouded. “Well, I just found out that Preston was handling the sale for him, and the place is already sold without a thing being said to me.”

“Aaron, I’m so sorry.” She almost reached out to touch him before realizing that might not be the best of ideas. “It’s hard to believe Matt Gibson would do that to you after giving you his assurance.”

“Ja.” Aaron ground out the word, his strong jaw tight under the chestnut beard. “It was his business, but I certain sure never thought he’d go back on his promise like that. Still, he’s old and he’s been sick. Maybe he just forgot about it.”

“Is it really too late?”

“Preston says the papers are already signed. He apologized, but said Matt never mentioned a word about giving me first refusal. The place went to somebody from out of state.” He shrugged again, managing a smile. “Well, it’s God’s will, ja?”

It was the normal Amish response when life didn’t go according to their plans. It was God’s will. “Maybe you’ll find a place for sale that’s even better.”

“Nothing else is likely to be for sale along our road.” He didn’t sound optimistic. “Daad’s place isn’t big enough to support all of us, but with Gibson’s land we’d have been okay, and my mamm and sister could keep watching my girls.”

“I know,” Sarah said gently. Aaron’s two little girls, Anna and Lena, were the center of his life since Mary Ann’s death, and of course Esther King was delighted to take care of them. It would be difficult for all of them if Aaron had to move farther from his folks to make a living.

“Well, there’s no point in crying over spilled milk, I guess.” The finality in his tone made it clear the subject was closed. Aaron glanced at the soiled fabric she had crumpled in her hand. “Are you going to try and salvage that piece?”

She could wash it and add it to the box of remnants she kept for people who needed just a small amount of one color. But the dirty streak on the pale color seemed to remind her of the discomfort she’d felt at being alone in the shop with Gus.

“Not worth it,” she said, and tossed it into the trash. There was an end to it. She’d never felt uncomfortable being alone in the shop before, and she wouldn’t start now. The shop was her creation and her haven, and it occurred to her that if she hadn’t lost Aaron, she’d never have had the shop.

“Gut. I’ll put this back for you.” He started to pick up the bolt, but then stopped and grinned, looking for a moment like the boy he’d once been. “If you think my hands are clean enough.” He held them out, palms up, as if for inspection.

She couldn’t help looking. They were good, strong hands—hands that could do a hard day’s work and yet be gentle enough to soothe a troubled child. For an instant she imagined them touching her, imagined having the right to hold them close against her—

Sarah yanked her mind away from such dangerous thoughts, hoping the warmth in her cheeks didn’t mean she was blushing.

“You’ll do,” she said briskly. “Mind you put it back in the right place.”

“Bossy,” he said with a smile, and moved away.

By the time he’d completed that small task, Sarah had her breathing under control again. Aaron headed for the door, and she followed him with a question.

“Is there any news about the fire marshal getting involved yet?” As a volunteer, Aaron would probably know as quickly as anyone.

“Nothing I’ve heard. Since there wasn’t any significant damage, it’s not likely the state police marshal would get involved.” Aaron stood frowning, his hand on the doorknob. “I have a bad feeling about these fires, though.”

She nodded. “My daad must have gone out six times to check the barn last night. He’s trying not to let the younger ones see that he’s upset, but...” She let that trail off, knowing Aaron would understand.

“Anybody old enough to remember the last time we had a firebug has to feel that way.” He rested his hand on the door frame.

“It’s strange, isn’t it, that the fires were during the day?” she said. “From the little I remember, all the ones before started at night.”

“Maybe it means the firebug is getting bolder,” Aaron said.

“You think it’s the same person, then?”

He frowned, looking older for an instant. “I didn’t at first, but I’m starting to wonder. Still, it’s funny he’d be quiet all these years and then start up again.”

“Unless something happened to set him off.” She shivered. “That’s what troubles me the most—the thought that there’s somebody who’s not right in the head getting pleasure out of seeing people’s property burn.”

“Ach, we shouldn’t be talking about it.” He seized her hands in a warm, strong grip. “We’ll be giving ourselves nightmares, that’s what’ll happen.”

“Better to be prepared than pretend it’s not happening. And I told Daadi that I’ll be doing some of those nighttime trips of his to have a look around, so don’t you bother telling me anything different.”

Aaron’s fingers tightened at that, but finally he shrugged and released her. “I guess if your daad can’t talk you out of it, there’s no use my trying. Just be sure you call for help if you see anything, and don’t rush in on your own.” His gaze held hers, even though they no longer touched. “Promise me that, please, Sarah.”

She could try telling him that her welfare wasn’t his concern, but that would be a waste of breath, wouldn’t it? “All right. I promise.”

Aaron gave a short nod, brushed her fingers lightly with his and went out. Sarah stood for a moment, watching his tall, sturdy figure silhouetted by the light pouring through the glass panes in the door, and then turned back to the shop.

This was the life she’d chosen, she reminded herself. She had to be satisfied with it.

CHAPTER THREE

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.”

“All three fires in the same area, too.” Our area. “What’s going on?”

There wasn’t any answer to that, and they raced down the road without speaking, hearing the wail of the siren in the distance.

* * *

SARAH FELT HEAVY-EYED when she walked toward the shop the next morning. No one out their way had gotten much sleep the previous night, with vehicles racing along the road, and the scream of the sirens as additional fire trucks arrived from the adjoining township. When she thought of the loss to Ben and Miriam, her heart was even heavier than her eyelids.

The first person she saw at Blackburn House was Mac, leaning against the door frame of the shop. Waiting for her? She’d already told him everything she knew about the fire she’d discovered.

“Morning, Sarah.” He straightened at her approach, giving her the mischievous smile she remembered from childhood. “Sorry to be your first customer, especially when I’m not even going to buy anything.”

“I’d faint if you did. Or maybe I’d think you were sick.” She put her key in the lock and entered the shop, turning on lights as she went.

Everything was just as she and Allison had left it the previous afternoon. How would she feel if, like Ben Stoltzfus, she’d lost something as crucial to her business as his barn was to him? Ben would put a good front on, she supposed, but gazing at the ashes of his fine big barn must be devastating.

“You look about like I feel this morning.” Mac shoved his uniform cap back and tried to stifle a yawn. “Long night for everybody.”

“At least you’re getting paid for it.” Nick came into the shop with Allison in time to hear his brother. “We volunteers do it because we’re civic-minded.”

Mac snorted. “If you think my salary covers all the extra hours, Mr. Mayor, you’re dreaming.”

Sarah smiled, knowing how Mac loved to tease his brother about his role as mayor of Laurel Ridge. “You boys behave, or I’ll tell your mother.”

For an instant Allison looked left out, not having shared a childhood with them, but then Nick put his arm casually around her waist, and her eyes lit with her love for him.

Nick focused on his brother. “Did you find anything at the fire scene this morning?”

“Are you asking me to tell official secrets?”

“No, I’m asking you to let us in on anything that half the town will know or guess before the day is out,” Nick retorted.

“True enough,” Mac said. “And what they don’t know, they’ll make up, especially when the PSP fire marshal arrives.”

“PSP?” Allison questioned.

“Pennsylvania State Police,” Nick said. “So they’ve agreed to investigate?”

Mac nodded. “The financial cost of last night’s fire, combined with the fact that it was third in a string of fires, convinced them. And the truth is, they have more expertise in investigating fires like this than anyone in the county.”

“Arson fires.” Sarah said the words they were all thinking.

“The one at Stoltzfus’s barn for sure.” Mac’s forehead wrinkled and he rubbed it, looking tired. “I’m no expert, but I found enough to convince me. I can’t prove anything one way or the other about the first two, but...”

“But three fires in a space of a few days can’t be coincidence,” Nick said. Sarah looked at him more closely, realizing that one side of his face was reddened.

“Nick, were you hurt last night? You look as if you were burned.”

“He was, but he won’t give in and go to the doctor.” Allison’s arm tightened around him.

“The doc would just tell me to use burn salve, and I can do that without advice.” The way Nick looked at Allison took away any hint of sharpness in the words.

For just an instant, Sarah felt a sharp pang of something she feared was envy. If anyone looked at her that way... She slammed the emotion down before it could catch hold.

“He’s just being macho,” Mac said. “He and Aaron King were the big heroes last night.”

Sarah’s breath caught. “What...what did they do?”

“Nothing.” Nick sent a glare of annoyance at his brother. “Aaron and I were first on scene, that’s all.”

“And the two of you rushed into the barn to try and save the animals,” Mac added.

“That was doing our job, not being heroic. Besides, Ben was trying to go in without any protective gear. I dragged him back out while Aaron opened as many stalls as he could get to.” Nick’s face turned bleak. “It was bad, hearing the animals we couldn’t reach. The loft started to collapse, and for a minute I was afraid I was going to lose Aaron. But he got out just in time.”

Sarah put a hand on the nearest table to steady herself, her heart beating so loudly she could hear it in her ears. Allison glanced at her and moved closer.

“Aaron’s all right, then?” Allison said, obviously seeing more in Sarah’s face than either of the men did.

“Burned his arm, that’s all.” Nick shook his head. “He wouldn’t have, if we had some decent protective gear. We’re using stuff we bought secondhand way too many years ago.”

He’s all right, Sarah repeated to herself. And he certain sure wouldn’t want anyone fussing over him. Besides, she didn’t have the right.

“That’s terrible.” Allison’s tone was sharp. “You’re going out risking your lives for the community. The least Laurel Ridge can do is provide the equipment you need to stay safe.”

Nick shrugged, obviously used to the situation. “Laurel Ridge is a small town, and this isn’t an affluent area. The fire company got a nice amount from the spring festival, but between repairs to the truck and replacing some equipment, it doesn’t stretch very far.”

Mac interrupted the argument that was obviously hovering on Allison’s tongue. “Listen, I have to get moving, and I still haven’t told Sarah why I came over this morning. Too many distractions.” He looked meaningfully at his brother.

“Right, okay. You need to talk to Sarah. We’ll be quiet.” Nick touched Allison’s arm lightly.

“What is it?” Sarah felt a flicker of concern.

“Nothing scary.” Mac smiled. “I expect the fire marshal to show up this afternoon. You’re one of the people he’ll want to interview, so I thought I’d give you a head’s-up in case I’m not with him.”

Sarah clasped her hands together. “Why does he want to see me? I can’t tell him anything.” And despite dealing with Englischers daily in the shop, she wasn’t comfortable with the thought of this unknown official. She’d conquered her shyness a long time ago with her own people, but outsiders were different.

“That’s how they work. He’ll talk to everyone I interviewed about the fires. Nothing to worry about. Just answer his questions the best you can, okay?”

She nodded, feeling tension in her neck as she did. “If you say so.”

“Good. I’ll come with him if I can, but he may want to interview people without me.” Apparently having fulfilled his purpose, Mac headed for the door. “I have to get back to work. I’ll see you later.”

The door closed behind him.

“Now can I talk?” Allison’s words rushed out. “We really have to think of something we can do. Both for that poor family and for the firefighters.”

“You don’t need to worry about the Stoltzfus family,” Sarah said. “Everyone is rallying around to help—lending equipment and replacing that first cutting of hay they lost. The men are already planning a barn raising.” Seeing that Allison looked doubtful, she smiled. “Really. We’ve done this before, you know. I’m not saying it isn’t a blow for Ben and Miriam, but you’ll be surprised at how quickly the barn will be replaced.”

“She’s right,” Nick added. “The Amish take care of their neighbors. It’s a lesson the rest of us could learn.”