glanced back over her shoulder toward the archway into the living room. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you, but maybe later would be better. I don’t want her upset any further.”
Donna’s air of authority was mildly annoying. Still, Sarah supposed she meant it for the best. “Well, just let her know I stopped by, and—”
“Donna? Who are you talking to? Why don’t they come in? You can’t expect me to get up and fight with this walker every time the doorbell rings.” The voice came from the living room in a subdued bellow.
Sarah grinned. That sounded much more like Julia. “It’s Sarah Bitler,” she called.
“Well, come in. Why are you standing on the doorstep?”
Donna shrugged, rolling her eyes as she stepped back. “Try not to let her get upset,” she muttered. “I thought I’d never get her settled down after that policeman left.”
Nodding, Sarah went past her into the comfortable living room. Julia, unlike most of Laurel Ridge’s wealthier residents, didn’t live in one of the town’s classic Victorian houses. After her husband’s death she’d sold the place she’d always referred to as a mausoleum, and bought this small, convenient one-story rancher.
The living room was designed for comfort, rather than fashion, with a pair of recliners on either side of a fireplace, a welcoming love seat and built-in bookshelves that were filled primarily with bright paperbacks. A large-screen television sat at an angle to face one of the recliners, and as Sarah entered, Julia reached out to mute the game show she was watching.
“What’s going on? Don’t tell me Donna is trying to protect me again. I thought she knew better.” Julia’s round, wrinkled face was bright-eyed and sometimes a little malicious. Just now she darted an annoyed look toward the hallway.
Donna, shoulders stiff, obviously heard the words, as she was meant to. She marched toward the kitchen.
“You shouldn’t tease her,” Sarah said, avoiding the heavy cast on Julia’s leg as she bent to hug her. “She’s trying to take care of you.”
“I hate to be taken care of.” The older woman’s tone was so sharp, Sarah knew helplessness was the real cause of her annoyance.
“Give your leg time to heal. You’ll soon be able to handle things yourself.”
She hoped that was true, anyway. At Julia’s age, a badly broken leg could mean the end of independent living, and as far as Sarah knew, Donna was the only relative Julia had. In a typical Amish family, there’d be plenty of people to tend an elderly relative and it was taken for granted, but not so among the Englisch.
“Never mind telling me soothing things,” Julia barked. “Sit down here and talk. I heard you’re the one who spotted the fire.”
Sarah nodded, pulling over a straight chair to sit on. Julia’s short gray hair was ruffled, as if she’d been running her hands through it, and she glared at the cast as if it offended her. Obviously the only thing to do was to tell her the story.
“I saw the smoke when I was coming into town this morning. I supposed it might have been Gus burning trash, but as soon as I came around the bend, I saw the flames at the back corner of the barn.”
Julia’s jaw was clenched. “Mac Whiting said the barn was a total loss.”
“I’m afraid so.” Guilt pricked Sarah. “Maybe if I’d gone straight for a phone when I saw the smoke, the fire company would have been able to save it, but—”
“Nonsense.” The word was sharp, and Julia gripped her hand for a moment. “Mac said you went looking for Gus first. Naturally.” Her gaze searched Sarah’s face. “He says they’re satisfied Gus wasn’t caught in the blaze.”
“That’s certain sure,” she said quickly. “I looked, and the others did, as well. He wasn’t there.”
“I suppose he’s staying out of sight, afraid I’ll blame him.” Julia snorted, her fears allayed. “Silly old fool.”
Since Julia was probably a good twenty years older than her handyman, or whatever Gus claimed to be, the description didn’t seem to fit very well. And Sarah had never thought of Gus as silly. He managed to eke out a living doing nothing much at all, and he had a weakness for drink, but he had a certain amount of shrewdness, as well.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Julia said unexpectedly. “You wonder why I bother with the lazy layabout.”
Since that was just about what she’d been thinking, Sarah couldn’t deny it. “It’s not my business.”
“Oh, he doesn’t fool me any.” Julia’s eyes crinkled, increasing her resemblance to a mischievous monkey. “I know what he is. But my husband was never happier than when he was pottering around that piece of property, hunting and fishing with Gus. I’m not sentimental, but I just can’t bring myself to get rid of the place, no matter how many offers I get.”
“Have people been wanting to buy?” That surprised Sarah. She wouldn’t have thought the property was that much in demand. It had been a farm once, but the fields were overgrown now.
“Had a call not long ago, but I wasn’t interested in selling the place.” Julia brooded for a moment. “I suppose it’ll be worth less now that the barn is gone. Maybe I ought to get rid of it before anything else happens.” Her hands worked on the chair arms, as if she’d like to propel herself right out of it.
Concerned at her agitation, Sarah clasped her hand. “You don’t need to decide anything right away. And I’m sure Gus will turn up soon.”
Julia nodded, but she still looked upset. Hadn’t Sarah agreed with Donna that she wouldn’t upset her? She sought for some subject that would divert Julia’s thoughts from a decision she clearly didn’t want to make.
“By the way, did you hear about the quilt display we’re putting together for the shop? It’s Allison’s idea. We’re setting up a showing of some antique quilts. Allison thinks it will draw in customers from out of town.”
Julia grunted something that sounded like agreement. “Probably will. Your partner’s got a good head on her shoulders when it comes to business. But she’ll never know as much about quilts as you do,” she added, as if Sarah might be jealous.
“Ach, I was born knowing about quilting, I think, given the way my mamm and grossmammi love it. And with Allison being so smart about things like the internet shopping, we make a fine team, ain’t so?”
“I guess you do,” Julia said. “Good thing, too. A woman’s got to be able to take care of herself in today’s world. Even an Amish woman.”
“Especially a single one,” she said firmly. There was no point in pretending it didn’t make a difference whether a woman was married or not. It did in a community like the Amish that was centered on family.
Julia’s gaze seemed to search Sarah’s face for a moment. She gave a short nod, as if satisfied with what she read there. “You know, I might have a few quilts to go in your display. Come to think of it, it’s about time I got them out and did something with them. Donna!” She shouted the name loudly, and Sarah jumped.
Donna
