“Won’t you be in church Sunday morning?”
“I could make an exception.”
“I’d enjoy driving the buggy if it’s all right.”
“Well, now, I don’t know. I’d better call and ask Glenn.” He pulled his earlobe. “Say, can you even drive a buggy?”
“I’ve been driving one since the age of six, and I really miss it. I’ll be fine unless Glenn’s horse is a feisty stallion, like one my dat once owned.”
“Just the opposite. Autumn is as sweet a mare as I’ve ever met. And she could sure use the exercise. Still, I’d better ask permission.”
“Of course.” I couldn’t believe my good fortune. “I’ll be very careful with her and avoid the highway.”
“How about I meet you at the barn after work and introduce you two?”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.” I glanced over to see Beatrice was hovering near us, eavesdropping on our conversation.
“Has Heath shown up?” she asked. “He didn’t eat his breakfast with the other two dogs.”
Stephen tugged his ear. “Not yet. I called animal control and the local veterinarian, but no one’s brought him in. I’ve asked several of my employees to put up lost dog signs. So far, no luck.” He paused and then turned to me. “I’m going to search for him after you and I see Autumn. If you’d like to join me, I could use another set of eyes.”
Again, I found Beatrice in close proximity. She must have heard his invitation.
FOURTEEN
Stephen strode into the café near three. “Hey, good news, Eva. You may borrow the buggy. But Glenn would feel more comfortable if you demonstrated your abilities to me first.”
“Okay, I’ll take you for a ride. We can both look for Heath for an hour or so.”
Beatrice closed in on us like a vulture. “I was planning to invite Eva over to dinner again. Ham and scalloped potatoes. Too much food for me to eat all by myself.”
“Does that invitation include me?” Stephen’s voice sounded jovial, as if restraining laughter.
“I was thinking just the two of us,” she said.
“I understand.” He gave me a wink. “Eva, do you still have time to hitch up the buggy? We could do it another day if you’d prefer.”
“Ach, I want to meet Autumn today.” I pivoted toward Beatrice. “Thank you for your kind invitation. How about tomorrow night?”
Beatrice’s features hardened. “I’ll have to wait and see.”
Stephen and I walked around a greenhouse and into the small barn next to a chicken coop. He opened the barn’s wide door to expose a gray buggy and an automobile, much to my surprise. Not that I assumed the Yoders didn’t drive vehicles. Both of them must.
Stephen called Autumn, who trotted right over to him. I pulled a carrot I’d pilfered from the kitchen out of a pocket in my apron and gave it to the mare. She nibbled it and then swallowed the rest.
“Oh, you are a pretty girl. And you seem friendly too. Gut.”
Stephen pulled Glenn’s gray buggy out of the small barn, and I hitched up the docile mare. So far, so good.
“She’s gorgeous.” Getting to know her, I stroked the roan mare’s neck. “She needs grooming.”
“After our ride. We’d better head out while there’s daylight.” Stephen beckoned me to get in and handed me the reins. As I climbed aboard, he jogged around to the passenger side. I realized he was testing my competence. If I couldn’t climb in the buggy by myself, how would I manage?
At an easy pace, I navigated the buggy through farmland, passing homes, farms, and silos. Both Stephen and I called Heath’s name and stopped several times to ask farmers and children if they’d seen the dog. After an hour, Stephen suggested we turn around.
A few blocks from the nursery I heard barking. “Wait. I hear a dog.”
Stephen pointed. “There he is, tied to that porch. What the—”
“Wunderbaar! ” I noticed a change in me. I’d never expected to be elated to see a dog, especially such a large and energetic one covered with mud.
“Pull into the driveway, Eva.” The moment we stopped, Stephen vaulted out of the buggy and ran over to Heath, who seemed ecstatic, his tail wagging.
A middle-aged Englisch man dressed in jeans and mud-spattered work boots rounded the house, carrying a shotgun. “Hey, what you doing with that dog?”
Without hesitation, Stephen lumbered toward the man and said, “I could ask you the same question.”
“That mutt killed one of my lambs.” The man raised the rifle’s barrel a few inches. “I should have shot it.”
“I don’t believe you.” Stephen moved closer to the man. “Heath wouldn’t hurt a flea.”
“Tell that to my dead lamb.” The man lifted the gun a few more inches. “Get off my property, and don’t come back unless you have the cash to pay for my dead animal.” The man lunged forward and poked Stephen’s chest with the shotgun’s muzzle. “Now, leave. You’re trespassing.”
Stephen held his ground. “I will as soon as you give me Heath.” At the sound of his name, the dog started barking and yanking on the rope.
The Englischer’s face turned beet red. “He’s my dog. His name is… Duke.”
“Since when?” Stephen asked, a hand on one hip.
“Since I bought him as a pup.” The Englischer poked Stephen again, but this time Stephen grabbed hold of the gun’s muzzle, twisted it out of the man’s hand, and flung it several yards away. The two men wrestled. Stephen maneuvered the man into a choke hold and held him like a vise. I’d never seen grown men fight. The Amish are nonresistant, a click beyond pacifists, who might march in a demonstration. Weren’t Mennonites nonresistant too?
Half of me was terrified. The other half was fascinated.
Heath bared his teeth, his hackles raised. While the man struggled to get free, I ran over and untied the dog. Tail waving, Heath charged over to Stephen.
“Hey, stop that.” The man grabbed for Heath. The dog sprang up and nipped him on the arm. “Ow!” The man’s face
