When Secrets Strike

Aaron could feel Sarah’s gaze on his face. She’d probably heard an intonation in his voice that he hadn’t intended to let slip.

“He mentioned something that made me think he was trying to prove to your daad that he could take on the responsibility.” She hesitated a moment. “Are there troubles between the two of them?” Sympathy warmed her voice.

Aaron shrugged, trying to loosen tight shoulder muscles. “Daad gets frustrated with him, that’s certain sure.”

“I always think rumspringa is hardest on the parents. And Jonah being the youngest—well, I’d guess my daad will worry more about Noah than Jonny and Thomas when the time comes.”

“You’re probably right.” Aaron managed a smile. “It’s hard to let go of the youngest one.”

“Especially for Mamm and Daadi. They waited so long for another boppli after me that the boys are extra precious to them.”

“Not more than you,” he corrected.

Silence lay between them for a moment. He tilted the angle of his straw hat to keep the glare of the summer sun from his eyes, and wondered how Sarah managed to look so cool in her green dress and matching apron.

“Your daad fretting over Jonah’s rumspringa behavior doesn’t explain why you’re worried, though.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “I can see that you are.”

“Ja.” He frowned, staring for a moment at the row of maples that lined the quiet street. “I haven’t said anything to Daad, but I don’t think much of some of the boys he’s running with. I hope he’s not headed for trouble.”

“Drinking?” Sarah knew as well as Aaron did how much grief could come from the beer parties the wilder teens managed to have.

“That, ja.” The longing to unburden himself was overwhelming. He let out a long breath. “Last night I heard him sneaking in—not that he managed to be very quiet about it. He was stumbling around, more than half-drunk. I quieted him down so he wouldn’t rouse the whole house, and got him to bed.”

“And now you don’t know if you did the right thing.” She said the words he’d been thinking.

“Ja. Maybe it would have been better for him to face Daad. But...the thing was, his clothes smelled of smoke.” There, it was out.

Sarah didn’t speak for a moment, absorbing it, weighing the significance of what he’d said. Then she brushed his arm lightly. “You’re worried. I guess I would be, too. But think about it, Aaron. There was no barn fire last night. Isn’t it more likely that the kids were partying someplace and built a bonfire? That’s just what they’d do, ain’t so?”

The common sense of her words seemed to make some of his burden slip away. “Ja, that’s true.”

“Besides, I can’t believe Jonah would think of setting a fire. He’s been a volunteer firefighter for over a year. He knows what a barn fire would do. He’d never endanger the animals. Or the other firefighters.”

Aaron let out a long breath, remembering his brother’s face when he’d realized they hadn’t been able to get all the animals out of Ben’s barn. “You’re right. I don’t know what I’m doing, thinking that way about my own kinder.”

“We’re all on edge. Goodness knows what we’ll be like if the fires get any worse.” Sarah’s expression tightened. “If only the police investigator can find the truth...”

Her words trailed off. Was she thinking, as he was, that it might be painful to know the truth?

But it was senseless to worry about the results. Truth was always best.

“Denke, Sarah. Your common sense was just what I needed today.” He glanced around, realizing how far they’d walked. “Where are we going?”

Sarah chuckled. “I’m going to visit Julia Everly. I don’t know where you’re going.”

He laughed, clasping her hand for an instant. “Where is my head? I’ve been that ferhoodled with worrying about Jonah. I’d best get on my way home.” He turned back the way they’d come.

* * *

SARAH WAS STILL thinking about that conversation with Aaron as she turned onto the quiet residential street where Julia Everly lived—not that any street in town was ever very busy, except during a special event like the annual spring fair. The ridge that gave the town its name rose sharply where the street ended, dark green now in midsummer, seeming to guard the town below, keeping its people safe.

Surely Jonah couldn’t be involved in setting fires. Impossible. Aaron had seen that as soon as she’d pointed it out to him. Still, she could understand the nightmare fears that sometimes overtook one in the wee hours of the morning.

Aaron always seemed to feel responsible for the younger ones. She could understand his attitude. She felt the same about her young brothers. Most likely the age gap between him and Jonah made it difficult for Jonah to confide in him, especially about something as sensitive as the boy’s rumspringa activities. Well, maybe the fact that Aaron hadn’t given him away to their father last night would help matters between them.

Things had changed so much in her life in just the past few days—since she’d spotted the smoke announcing the fire at Julia’s barn, in fact. Normally, despite the fact that they lived so close, she wouldn’t see much of Aaron except at worship on alternate Sundays, or when everyone pitched in to help with the haying. She’d seen him more often this week than she had in the previous month.

It should become easier with repetition, shouldn’t it? Well, it didn’t. She couldn’t see him without feeling the jump in her pulse and the longing in her heart.

And now to be committed to working closely with him on the festival project—how had she gotten into this predicament? He’d been trying to help her, most likely. And it was just as likely that Allison, who knew her secret, thought it a great idea to throw the two of them together. Sarah had to admit that just the thought of being with him that much sent her nerves singing.

Julia’s house was just ahead, and she gave herself a mental shake. It was time to stop fretting about her own wayward heart and concentrate on something else.

When Julia had phoned the shop earlier, she’d sounded triumphant. She’d gotten rid of Donna for the morning, she’d said, and she wanted Sarah to come over and search for her stored quilts without, apparently, having to argue with her cousin about it.

The woman had sounded like her usual feisty self, and Sarah thought again that Donna must be wrong about Julia failing mentally. Donna was one of those people who always saw the worst in every situation, and she was probably just taking an unduly pessimistic view of things.

The flower borders along Julia’s front porch were crowded with marigolds, snapdragons and dahlias. They were all drooping, looking as if they could do with a drink of water. Sarah would offer to water them before she left.

She pushed the doorbell and then opened the unlocked front door, not wanting the elderly woman to struggle from her chair. “Julia?”

“In here. Come on in.” Julia sounded stronger today, probably delighting in having outwitted the cousin she considered interfering.

Sarah found her in the usual chair, her walker on one side and a tray table in front of her with a laptop computer on it.