A Plain Malice: An Appleseed Creek Mystery (Appleseed Creek Mystery Series Book 4) (26 page)

I nodded.

“
Ya
, I know what is. Simon does too. It’s the part of the job of an Amish farmer to know natural and unnatural dangers on your land, which could ruin your crops or harm your livestock. If our cows got a bit of yew, they would become ill. We don’t have it near the pasture land, but there are some bushes at the tree line that leads into the woods. He pointed to the tree line several hundred yards ahead. You see that dark spiny bush there about five feet high. That’s yew.”

I removed my phone from my jacket pocket. “I had better let Timothy know where we are.”

Grandfather Zook watched as my thin fingers flew across the touchscreen. “What are you up to with that?”

“I
’m telling Timothy where I am and that I will be late getting back to the inn.”

“Why can’t you
wait to tell him when you see him again?”

I shrugged.
“He worries.”

A smile spread across the older man’s face. “
Your little message there won’t make him worry any less about you.”

Grandfather Zook placed a hand on my arm. “Chloe, did you hear that?”

My head snapped up from my phone. “Hear what?” Then, I did. It was a vehicle approaching, but not from the road. It came from the other side of the barn.

The cows in the pasture mooed and shuffled away from the nois
e as it drew closer.

“Somebody’s coming!” Thomas cried and streaked across the yard.

“Thomas!” I jumped off of the bench and raced after him.

He disappeared around the back of the dairy barn. I came around the corner of the barn and pulled up short. Just a few feet from the seven hundred gallon milk talk, Alex Tate sat absolutely still on a four wheeler.
Ruth held a pitchfork just a few inches from his chest.

“Ruth
, put the pitchfork down,” I said.

“
Nee
. He’s the
Englischer
who’s trying to ruin our farm.” The pitchfork shook in her small hands.

Alex
’s eyes widened. “No, I’m not. I’m your new neighbor.” He licked his lips. “I know I should have stopped over sooner. I’ve been working so hard on the farm.”

Ruth glared at him. “So you can close ours down.”

I took the pitchfork from Ruth hands. She didn’t fight me. I jabbed it into the ground beside to me. “Alex, what are you doing here?”

Ruth scowled. “You know him?”

“Timothy and I met him earlier today.”

“That’s right,” Alex nodded. “And that meeting convinced me to drop by and say hello.
I don’t want to close your farm. Really.”

“That’s not what
Daed
said,” Ruth mumbled under her breath.

Grandfather Zook appeared around the side of the barn. “What do we have here?”

I made introductions.

Grandfather Zook squinted. “Ahh, so you are the young
Englischer
running that fancy farm. I heard your barns are orange.”

Alex slowly climbed
off of four-wheeler all the while keeping an eye on Ruth. “They are.”

Grandfather Zook pulled on his beard. “Seems like an odd color choice for a barn.”

“Orange is my favorite color, so I thought why not?”

Grandfather Zook cocked his head as if he didn’t know what to make out of that answer.

Alex swallowed. “I’m sorry for all the trouble your family has had. Chloe and Timothy told me about it when they stopped by my farm this afternoon. I had nothing to do with what happened to those two people. This is the first time I’ve been on your land.”

“Chloe!”
Becky called my name from the other side of the dairy barn.

I
left Alex with Grandfather Zook and the children and found Becky standing in the middle yard between the farmhouse and the barn with Naomi and her parents. Becky’s cheeks were tear-streaked, but she was smiling.

To my surprise, Alex followed me around the side of the barn. I inwardly groaned as a scowl appeared on Mr. Troyer’s face.

“Wait here,” I ordered Alex and jogged over to Becky and her parents.

“Chloe,” Mr. Troyer said. “Who is that man?”

“It’s Alex Tate. He’s one of the owners of the commercial farm on the Gundys’ old land. Timothy and I met him earlier today.”

Mrs. Troyer twisted a tea towel in her hands. “What is he doing here?”

“He said he wanted to introduce himself to you.”

Mr. Troyer’s frown deepened. “Did you ask him to come here?”

“No,” I said quickly. I was going to say more, but then my attention was caught by a blush creeping up Becky’s cheeks. I followed her line of sight to Alex, who stared at her just as intently.
Uh-oh.

I stepped in front of Becky’s line of sight, and she blinked as if coming out
of a trance. I cleared my throat. “The farm’s called Katts’ Buttermilk Farm, and Alex says they specialize in organic farming.”

“I have heard of them,” Mr. Troyer said and strode across the yard. Mrs. Troyer followed him.

Naomi tugged on my jeans. “Chloe,
Mamm
and
Daed
said Becky can visit us again. Isn’t that
gut
?”

I smiled at her. “It’s very
gut
, Naomi.”

She laughed at my use of the Pennsylvania Dutch word and th
en ran to join the rest of the family talking to Alex. In the meantime, Becky skirted around for a better look at Alex.

“Becky, you just made up with your parents. I don’t think mooning over the competition is the best thing to do right now.”

She glanced at me. “Mooning? What does that mean?”

“You
’re gawking at Alex Tate.”

She touched her
flushed cheek. “I was not.”

“I think it’s time for us to go.”

“We can’t go without saying good-bye,” she said and headed to the rest of the family standing around Alex Tate.

“I have a herd of ninety
Guernsey cows,” Alex told Becky’s father. “I plan to keep the herd at around that size. We are already producing milk. I also want to plant some crops but don’t know if we will be able to do that this planting season. We still have so much of the farm under construction.”

Mr. Troyer nodded. “This is my oldest daughter, Rebecca.”

Alex stared at Becky in her jeans, pink sweater, and canvas sneakers. “You’re not Amish.”

Mr. Troyer cleared his throat. “She has chosen another path in life, which as her family
, we have accepted.”

Becky tore her eyes away from Alex to smile at her father. I prayed Mr. and Mrs. Troyer
didn’t notice Becky’s instant infatuation with the young commercial farmer. Grandfather Zook winked at me. He knew. Becky’s grandfather never missed a thing.

“After Chloe and Timothy’s visit to my farm earlier today
, it reminded me of something. Early Saturday morning, I saw someone headed out this way to your farm. I don’t know if that’s where they were planning to go.”

“What time was this?” I asked.

“Near six in the morning. I didn’t think much of because I’ve noticed Amish folks cut across each other’s farms all the time.”

I glanced at Grandfather Zook. That was just about the time he heard something in the milk parlor.

“The person you saw was Amish?” I asked.

“I thought so, but I can’t be sure.
He wore dark clothing, but I wasn’t paying that much attention. It was a chilly morning, and I wanted to finish my rounds, so I could go back to my trailer and make breakfast.”

“Do you remember anything else?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry.” His shoulders drooped.

“That was kind of you to tell us,” Becky said.

He straightened up. “Thank you. I’m so sorry about the trouble that you’re having. If there is any way I can be of help please let me know. I plan to be a good neighbor to you.”

“
Danki
,” Mr. Troyer said.

“
It’s getting late, and I won’t keep you. It was nice to meet all of you.” His eyes lingered on Becky a little too long.

Thomas jumped up and down. “Can I go for a ride
on your four-wheeler?”

Alex
glanced at Mr. Troyer who frowned at Thomas’s request. “Not today. Maybe another time.” He waved good-bye and walked around the side of the barn back to his vehicle. We heard the engine fire up. The Troyer children, including Becky, ran around the side of the barn to watch Alex drive away.

“He seemed nice,” Mrs. Troyer said.

“
Ya
, but his business is still a threat to our farm whether or not he intends it to be.” Mr. Troyer turned and headed back to the house.

And that’s why Becky need
ed to stay away from Alex Tate.

*
* *

Naomi, Thomas, and Becky skipped around the barn
, hand in hand, and I couldn’t help but smile. The children were so happy to have their oldest sister with them again. Ruth wasn’t with them though and neither was Grandfather Zook.

Curious, I walked around the barn. Ruth pulled the pitchfork out of the ground.

“Now,
kinner
, you can’t go around trying to poke
Englischers
with pitchforks. Most of them don’t like it.”

Ruth bowed her head.
“
Ya, Grossdaddi
.”

Grandfather Zook wiggled his bushy white eyebrows under his straw hat.
“I think it’s time to go back to the house for a piece of your
mamm
’s strawberry pie.”

That got a small smile out of
Ruth.

“You coming, Chloe?”
Grandfather Zook asked as he hobbled by on his braces.

Ruth looked up at the mention of my name and frowned.

“I’ll be there in a moment. I’d like to talk to Ruth.”

The older man stroked his beard and glanced back at his
granddaughter. “Well, don’t be too long. I can’t promise there will be any pie left for you if you delay.”

“We won’t be long,” I promised.

Ruth leaned the pitchfork against the side of the barn. “What do you want?”

“Why was Ephraim
Shetler behind the barn at six o’clock Saturday morning?” I asked.

Her mouth fell open. “How did you know?”

“Why was he here?”

She folded her arms.

“Is he your boyfriend?” I asked the question, knowing I would receive an angry response in return.

“
Nee
.” Her face turned bright red. “
Nee.
He and Anna are sweethearts.”

It was my turn to be surprised at the image of sweet, shy Anna Lambright sneaking around with a boy.

“They are just talking,” Ruth said defensively. “They use our farm to do that.”

“That puts you in an
awkward position.”

“She is my
freind
,” Ruth said as if that were explanation enough.

“How long has this been going on?”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “A month or so. Ephraim always liked Anna. All the boys do. She’s the prettiest girl in our school. It wasn’t until Eastertime that Anna told me she was sweet on him. They started courting.”

“Isn’t Anna a little young to be courted?” I asked.

Ruth narrowed her Troyer-blue eyes. “Anna and I are thirteen. Next year will be our last year of school. We aren’t too young to court.”

The thought of Ruth leaving school at fourteen made me terribly sad. I knew to stop at an eighth grade education was the Amish way, but the professional student in me couldn’t wrap her head around it. School had been my safe place when my family crumbled.

I rested my back against the rough barn siding. “Why do they meet here?”

“They can’t meet at the Gundy barn since that
Englischer
tore it down.”

The Gundy barn had been Anna and Ruth’s special meeting place.

She kicked at the grass. “And anywhere else is too far for Ruth to walk without her
daed
noticing she’d gone.”

“So Ephraim walks all the way from the Dutch Inn. How far is that?”

“Four miles. He rides his bicycle most of the way.”

“Why doesn’t she want her father to know about Ephraim?”

“Because of what happen with Katie. Katie always had trouble with sweethearts.”

How well I knew. Katie’s trouble in the romance department had
contributed to her murder last December.

She started back around the barn. “I
have to go help
Mamm
in the kitchen.”