When Secrets Strike. Marta Perry

now. She’s so forgetful lately she probably won’t even remember talking to you about them.”

      Forgetful? That assessment didn’t match with Sarah’s impression of Julia, but she certain sure wasn’t getting into a discussion of Julia’s mental state with Donna. Instead she gave the woman a quick smile and hurried to her buggy, relieved to get away.

      * * *

      AFTER SETTLING THE mare in the small stable behind Blackburn House, where her shop was located, Sarah rounded the massive Italianate Victorian mansion to the front door. She always found it hard to imagine that the building had once been a private home. Who could possibly need such an imposing residence? Amish families, even those with eight or ten children, were content with simple farmhouses.

      Well, Blackburn House had long since been turned into shops and offices, and she was fortunate to have her quilt store in what had once been a fashionable parlor. Doubly fortunate, because her business partner was Allison Standish, the owner of the building.

      Once she was inside the double front doors with their elaborate fanlight, Sarah could glance up at the marble hallway that stretched practically the depth of the building. The quilt shop was on the right, with a small workroom behind it, while to the left was the showroom for Whiting and Whiting Cabinetry, with its office. Toward the back, the bookstore and storage rooms took up the rest of the downstairs space. The cabinetry showroom appeared to be empty at the moment, which probably meant Nick Whiting was in the workshop behind the building.

      The bell over the door jingled as Sarah walked into her shop, and Allison slid a bolt of fabric into place and hurried toward her. “Here you are at last. Nick said you probably inhaled some smoke when you were trying to find Gus Hill. We were worried about you.”

      Nick, besides being a partner with his father in the cabinetry shop, was the brother of the police chief, to say nothing of being a very special person in Allison’s eyes. Most of the community expected to hear momentarily that they were engaged.

      “Nick worries too much, if he said that. I’m fine. I stopped over to see Julia Everly. Did Nick tell you the fire was on property she owns?”

      Allison nodded, her dark red hair swinging against her cheeks. “Is Julia all right? I haven’t seen her in a few days.”

      Julia had been a close friend of Allison’s grandmother, and Allison seemed to feel a special bond with the older woman on that account.

      “I think so. Worried about whether or not she should sell the property, but I managed to distract her.” Sarah’s thoughts flickered to Julia’s quilts, which might or might not be suitable for display.

      “Everybody’s worried about the fire, as far as I can tell.” Allison glanced at the two customers who were browsing through the racks of fabric in the back of the store, and lowered her voice. “I didn’t quite see what Nick and his dad were so upset about. Apparently the barn was empty.”

      “That’s just it.” Probably Allison, having spent all her life in the city until she’d come to Laurel Ridge in the spring, had little idea how country people felt about barn burnings. “There was nothing in that barn that could have started an accidental fire.”

      “You mean they think it was deliberate?” Allison shivered a little. “That’s frightening.” She had had a close encounter with a fire herself not so long ago. She wouldn’t have forgotten.

      Sarah nodded. “There’s nothing worse in a farming community than the idea that there’s a firebug loose. It happened once when I was a child, and I remember it so well—Daad staying up at night, keeping watch, never knowing what might happen, afraid to leave the animals in the barn.” It chilled her just to think of it.

      “Still, there’s no reason to believe this is more than an isolated incident.”

      Allison was obviously trying to look on the bright side, and she was probably right. They might well discover some innocent reason for the fire.

      Sarah began to speak, but the words froze in her throat. From the firehouse down the street came an ominous sound as the siren began to wail its alarm. There was another fire.

       CHAPTER TWO

      AARON WALKED ALONG the edge of the cornfield between his parents’ farm and the Bitler place. Or maybe trudged was a better word, he thought wryly. Fighting two fires in one day in addition to his usual work had taken something out of him.

      He brushed his hand along the stalks of corn, registering the texture of the leaves. Too dry. If they didn’t get a decent rain soon, they wouldn’t have the winter feed they needed. He didn’t want to think about the temptation the dry fields might be to a firebug.

      But he had to think about it. Isolated farms couldn’t rely on the fire department to get there quickly. He’d talk to Eli Bitler first off. They could set up a plan for looking out for each other’s property. As word of the fires spread through the county, other neighbors were most likely doing the same thing.

      Aaron had nearly reached the property line when he saw Eli striding toward the house from the barn. Eli was younger than Aaron’s daad—probably not yet fifty, hale and vigorous. He wasn’t one to stand back and see a problem without wanting to do something about it.

      “Aaron.” Eli raised a hand in greeting, but his usual quick smile was missing. “You boys had a long day today, with the fire at the Everly place this morning and another one at Morrison’s this afternoon. How bad was it?”

      Aaron shrugged. “Just a small equipment shed at Tom Morrison’s, and he was able to get his mower and garden tractor out before we arrived with the truck. Good thing, too.” Tension seized the back of his neck at the memory. “Our equipment started giving us trouble right away. We were lucky to keep the fire under control.”

      Eli studied his face for a long moment. “That’s bad news. All the will in the world won’t help fight a fire if your gear isn’t in shape.”

      “It’s old, that’s all.” They turned, walking toward the farmhouse together. “We can’t afford new, a small volunteer company like ours. The chief nearly had to call in the surrounding fire companies for help today.”

      The worry rode Aaron like a weight on his shoulders. The surrounding townships had small volunteer companies like theirs. Two fires in one day would be a strain on any of them.

      “You want to come in?” Eli jerked his head toward the kitchen door. “Hannah’s got some coffee in the pot and a fresh-baked peach pie.”

      Aaron’s smile flickered. It would be a rare day when Hannah Bitler didn’t have something baked fresh, the way those boys of theirs ate. “Denke, but it may be best we talk out here where the others won’t hear. The fact is, there was no gut reason for either of those fires to start.”

      Eli nodded slowly. “I figured that was in your mind. It’s certain sure been in mine since our Sarah came back with the story of the barn on the Everly property burning. No reason, and two fires so close together in one day has to mean someone started them, I’d think.”

      Eli looked toward his own barn. His oldest boy, Jonah Michael, usually known as Jonny, seemed to be teaching little Noah how to drive the pony cart, while Thomas sat on the paddock fence to watch.

      “I remember the last time it happened. Years ago, it was, but they never caught the guy.” Aaron had been just a boy then, but he’d taken turns with Daad standing watch, starting at every sound in the dark.

      “There’s more able-bodied men around here now, at least,” Eli said, sounding determined to put the best face possible on bad news. “You and your brother and your daad, plus me and the Whitings.” He nodded toward the next farm beyond the Bitler place, where Nick Whiting lived with his parents and Nick’s small son. “I’m thinking we’ll leave the dogs loose at night from now on. They’ll give an alarm fast enough.”

      “If they’re