Amazing, how such tiny hands took such a big hold on our hearts in such a short time, he thought as he went downstairs to sit with Leah. Lord, You’ve got to help me comfort her. Maybe it would help if we knew another baby would soon be sleeping in that bassinet. . . .
* * *
On the following Monday, Leah worked at a stainless steel table outside the barn, cutting a large batch of butchered and plucked chickens into serving pieces. She had already finished with the ducks, which she’d left whole—except for removing their innards—and they were iced down in a big cooler. On the days when she prepared her birds to sell to the meat locker in Cedar Creek, she rose earlier than usual so the butchering was done by midmorning. After that, she would shower and take her coolers of poultry into town for Bishop Vernon’s nephew, Abner, to package and freeze—or to sell fresh in his butcher shop’s meat case.
The mid-March dawn was chilly, and Leah’s breath rose as vapor that glowed in the light of her lantern. Ordinarily, these early mornings when she worked outside soothed her soul. On this particular day, focusing on her task kept her busy enough that Betsy’s absence remained a dull ache.
It’s been three days since Natalie took her back. If I can just get through this morning, this day . . . my work will be my salvation.
When Leah was milking her goats—or when she was dealing with the mess of butchering birds—she believed she was doing the work God had intended for her to carry out, for wasn’t she feeding people? She might not be a whiz in the kitchen, but she still provided food that would nourish the folks who bought her poultry and eggs.
Leah glanced up to savor the pink ribbons of the sunrise. The light in the kitchen window told her the twins were cooking breakfast. Jude would soon be doing the horse chores and other work around the yard with Stevie before he went to the sale barn to call an auction this afternoon. Their days weren’t as full without Betsy’s presence, but Leah took solace from the way the Shetler household had found a flow, an orderly attempt at comfort, now that Alice and Adeline weren’t causing any trouble.
Rifle fire shattered the stillness, one shot followed by several more.
Momentarily stunned, Leah rinsed her hands in the basin and ran toward where the gunshots had come from. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but she had to be sure her cows and calves were—
The roar of an engine and the squeal of tires made Leah run faster. She caught sight of a dark gray pickup truck fishtailing down the road as it sped away in a cloud of dust. English—probably men, she thought as she raced the last several yards to the enclosure where her calves were eating. What would they be doing on our road—shooting a gun—at this hour of the morning?
What Leah saw stopped her heart. The four black-and-white calves cowered against the back side of the fence with Maisie, but the rest of her herd—except for Ike the bull, pastured farther from the road—lay dead on the ground. Within seconds she’d lost Erma, Patsy, and the six steers she’d planned to market in the next couple of months. Because she butchered animals for the meat market, she was no stranger to the sight of blood, but seeing the sudden, senseless slaughter of her cattle made her sick to her stomach. Clammy and sweating, she turned toward the bushes to vomit.
“Leah, what happened?” Jude called out as he ran toward her. “I heard shots being fired and—”
The twins, who’d jogged from the house alongside their dat, took one look and turned away from the pen, wide-eyed and pale. “Why would anyone want to shoot innocent cows?” Alice asked in a strained voice. “They weren’t bothering anybody—”
“They couldn’t bother anybody,” Adeline protested. “And they had nowhere to run from whoever had the gun.”
“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” Stevie hollered as he caught up to them. Jude quickly grabbed the boy, hoping to keep him from seeing the carnage around the calves’ enclosure, but when Stevie saw how upset Leah and the girls were, he squirmed out of his dat’s grasp.
The boy could only gape before he turned to hide his face in Leah’s skirt. “Who woulda been mean enough to shoot our cows, Leah?” he demanded, his voice rising into a wail.
Leah inhaled the chill morning air to settle herself before she stooped to embrace Stevie’s shaking body. “I’m sorry you had to see this, honey,” she said as she held him. “By the time I got here, all I saw was the back end of a big gray pickup truck racing down the road. I—I couldn’t read the license plate—”
“English,” Jude muttered, glaring in the direction the truck had gone. “And cowardly bullies they were, too, figuring we Amish wouldn’t retaliate or report their crime. I have half a mind to call the sheriff anyway.”
When Leah raised her head to question Jude’s judgment, she noticed that the twins were gazing at each other as though something rang a bell. “Girls, do you have any idea who might’ve been driving that truck?” she blurted. “It looked a lot like the one your English friends drive.”
Alice immediately shook her head and started back to the house, while Adeline grabbed Stevie’s hand. “Let’s go in,” she hastily ordered the boy. “You’ll have nightmares if you keep looking at those poor cows.”
“Jah, son, it’s best if you go in with the girls,” Jude agreed sadly. “Leah and I need to clean up this mess.”
Leah sighed as she and Jude watched the kids return to the house. Suddenly chilly, she buttoned her barn coat. “Sure as you and I are standing here,
