When Secrets Strike. Marta Perry

was Mamm’s mother-in-law, rather than her mother.

      “You listen to us every day of your life,” Grossmammi said. “You are fretting. Is it about the fires?” She lowered her voice on the last word, as if hating to say it aloud.

      “No, well, not at the moment, anyway. I was thinking about Julia Everly. I ran into Donna today, and she says that Julia’s memory is failing her. I thought Julia was fine when I talked to her, but Donna seemed convinced.”

      Grossmammi listened to her account of Donna’s words, her gray head tilted to one side like a tiny snowbird. Never more than an inch or two over five feet, she’d shrunk in recent years. But her eyes still held their sparkle, and her fingers had never lost their cunning with a needle.

      “It does sometimes happen that a person might perk up for a visitor but show more loss to the one who cares for them every day,” she said when Sarah had finished. “Your grossdaadi was like that, remember?”

      Sarah nodded. “But we were all around, so it was as if he had company all the time, ain’t so?”

      Grossmammi chuckled. “That’s certain sure. And he loved it.” Her smile faded a bit. “Julia doesn’t have any kin except for Donna, so I’ve heard.”

      “Donna said Julia would be better off if people didn’t drop in to see her, but that seems so wrong to me. Julia enjoys visitors. I’d think she’d be better off with more, not fewer.”

      Mamm opened her mouth as if to say something and then frowned, shaking her head a little. “If her doctor thinks that...”

      Her words trailed off as she glanced toward the window over the sink. “Someone’s coming. That’s Allison’s car, ja?”

      Sarah put the last pot in the drainer and dried her hands. “I hope nothing’s wrong. She didn’t mention stopping in tonight.”

      “I’ll put the kettle on.” Grossmammi hustled to the stove. “Allison always likes a cup of my mint tea. She says it’s soothing.”

      In another moment Allison was coming in the back door, too much at home in the cozy kitchen to need to knock when she spotted them through the window. Greeted with hugs, she was soon ensconced at the long maple table with a steaming cup of mint tea, while Mamm tried to persuade her to have just a sliver of blackberry pie.

      “A tiny, tiny piece,” Allison agreed, laughing. “I know what your slivers look like.”

      “There’s nothing wrong, is there?” Sarah poured tea for her grandmother, as well, before sitting down.

      “No, but I had an idea. You know, about needing to raise more money for the fire company.” Allison’s green eyes lit with enthusiasm. “We have to do something. I talked to Ellen, and she agrees with me.”

      “We heard about Aaron getting burned,” Mamm said. “That’s bad. The boys should have what they need to do the job, ain’t so?”

      “That’s what I think.” Allison sparkled, obviously sensing an ally. “Nick says they really need a new truck, as well. Their pumper is on its last legs, so they’ve been saving up to buy a good used one.”

      “I don’t think there’s anything—” Sarah began, but Allison interrupted her.

      “Oh, I know we can’t do everything at once, but it seems to me if we get the ball rolling, more people will understand the need and become involved.”

      Mamm nodded. “That makes gut sense. Sometimes folks just have to be pushed a little.”

      Sarah eyed Allison cautiously, wondering what notion she had come up with. It was sometimes a bit unnerving to have such a go-ahead Englisch partner. Allison never seemed to see obstacles, only opportunities.

      “What were you thinking we might do?”

      “Well, we’re already planning the antique quilt display for the shop, and I’ve been working on some ways of publicizing it. What if we expanded the idea? Got hold of a bigger place to have it, and turned it into a quilt festival? I just read an article about one out in Ohio that brought visitors in from all over, and made a lot of money besides. You know how quilters are—they can’t get enough. A display of antique quilts, combined with a sale of quilts and quilted products, demonstrations, maybe even some workshops on different techniques... I think with the right publicity, we could make much more money for the fire company.”

      Before Sarah could catch her breath at this grand expansion of their original idea, she realized that both her mother and grandmother were nodding eagerly. Was she the only person who saw any flaws in that plan?

      “But...that’s a very big job. It will take ages to plan and put together—”

      “Not that much if we all work together.” Allison waved away her objection. “It’s all in the organization. I’ve worked on big design expos several times, and the crucial thing is to decide on a date and a place and start getting the promotion out.” She studied Sarah’s expression for a moment and smiled. “Trust me. I do know enough not to dream too big. But even a small one-or two-day event will draw in quilters ready to spend money.”

      Mammi nodded. “Look at the Englisch who come to the quilters’ group and class at the shop. They wouldn’t hesitate to travel—why, some of them will drive half a day just to visit a big fabric store or see a quilting demonstration.”

      “You girls aren’t going to leave us out,” Grossmammi declared. “What can we do?”

      After another half hour of talking, Allison had several lists drawn up, and Sarah’s head was spinning. It was a fine idea, and she didn’t doubt her partner’s ability to plan it out. What did set her stomach churning was the thought of what Allison might decide Sarah should do. Her friend seemed to think Sarah was as brave as she was.

      “Goodness, look at the time,” Mammi said, standing. “The boys should be getting to bed.”

      Allison gathered her lists together. “I shouldn’t have kept you talking so long, but your input was invaluable. I’ll start working out the plans tonight, and with a little luck and a lot of cooperation, we should be able to put this on by the end of the summer.” She looked at Sarah and her lips twitched just a little. “It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.”

      “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sarah said with mock solemnity. “I’ll get a flashlight and walk out with you.”

      The air was still when they stepped outside into the dark, and the sky was spangled with stars. Not a single cloud marred the view.

      “If only it would rain,” Sarah said softly. “Everything is so dry.”

      “I know.” Allison fumbled in the pocket of her bag for her car keys, and they jingled, the sound carrying in the still night. “But maybe knowing the state police are investigating will scare the firebug into hiding.”

      “Maybe.” Sarah wished she could believe that, but somehow she thought he wouldn’t be so easily deterred. “But it seems to me anyone who sets fires for fun isn’t right in the head.”

      Allison gave her hand a quick squeeze and then slid into the car. “I know. That is the scary aspect of it. Good night. Take care.”

      Sarah stood where she was while Allison turned around, and then watched the taillights until the car disappeared onto the road at the end of the lane.

      It was so quiet, the darkness so intense, that it was a relief to see the lights from the Whiting place. Jim had put a pole lamp in back, bathing the area between the house and the first of the outbuildings with its glow. But his barn, like theirs, was dark.

      She took a few steps, holding the flashlight loosely in her hand, but not bothering to switch it on. As her eyes grew used to the dark she could make out the lines of each of Daad’s buildings—chicken house, brooder coop, corncrib, barn, a couple sheds. All of them wooden, all of them vulnerable. As long as she was outside, she might as well take a walk around