Alison Stone

Plain Outsider


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made a little more sense. But how a woman went from Amish to sheriff’s deputy was beyond him. Maybe it was time he finally learned a little more about the Amish. And maybe Becky was just the person to teach him.

      * * *

      Becky strode up the dirt path between the cornfield and the neighbor’s property. She undid the buttons on her cuffs and rolled up her sleeves, hoping to look a little less official in her sheriff’s uniform. It was early enough that perhaps her parents would be too busy with chores to notice their wayward daughter had snuck in to meet with her younger sister out back by the shed.

      She hoped.

      But if she did run into them, she wanted to downplay the fact that not only had she jumped the fence, but she had also joined the sheriff’s department. Her parents didn’t need to voice their displeasure. It was a given, not that either of them had even discussed it directly with her. It was kind of hard to confront someone when you didn’t talk to them.

      When Becky got to the shed without being discovered, she heaved a sigh of relief. She didn’t think her day could get any worse.

      Until it had.

      Mag—short for Magdaline—was sitting with her back pressed against the shed, a mangy dog in her lap. At seventeen, Mag was the youngest of the Spoth family children. Three brothers separated the bookend sisters, two of which were already married. Only Abram and Mag still lived at home.

      “Hi, Mag.” Becky crouched down and her heart dropped when she saw the pain in her sister’s eyes. Becky gingerly touched the dog’s matted hair. An unpleasant aroma wafted off the unwashed dog in the summer morning heat. Becky had to stifle a groan. “This poor dog found his way over here again, didn’t he?”

      Mag nodded, her lower lip trembling, making her appear much younger than her seventeen years and reminding Becky of the preteen she had left behind almost six years ago when she decided the Amish life wasn’t for her. But now Mag was straddling childhood and the woman she would soon become. Would she choose to be baptized Amish or break their parents’ hearts as Becky had done? Mag was a big part of the reason Becky chose to stay in Quail Hollow. Sure, she left the Amish, but she couldn’t abandon her sister completely. Her three brothers had each other. Mag had no one.

      Becky inspected the dog; open sores covered the pads of his paws. “He needs medical care.”

      “I know.” Mag sniffed. “Are you going to make me return him, like last time?”

      Becky looked toward her childhood home. She didn’t see any sign of her parents. “Dat and Mem would want you to return him. He’s not ours.” Even as she made the argument, she wasn’t convinced, especially since the owner had obviously ignored her warning to take care of his pets.

      “But he’s just a little puppy,” Mag said, her words trembling as she fought back tears.

      “No one can treat an animal like this. There are laws against it.” Rage thrummed through Becky’s ears as she grew more convinced that she couldn’t hand over this dog to their neighbors. Not again. “Let’s go talk to the Kings.” The culmination of a few very bad weeks had suddenly reinforced Becky’s spine with steel. At this exact moment, she didn’t care about the consequences, not if it meant protecting this puppy.

      “Dat won’t like that.” Mag suddenly had cold feet despite her fierce need to protect the dog. “I’ll get in trouble for being disobedient.” Their father had told Mag to stop meddling in their neighbor’s business the last time the dog had wandered over. Becky heard the story secondhand when the sisters met in town for a quick cup of coffee. Their father wouldn’t have liked that, either, but he had never expressly forbidden it.

      “I’ll take the blame. There’s nothing they can do to me,” Becky said. A look of admiration crossed her sister’s delicate features, something Becky both cherished and dreaded. She didn’t want to be a negative influence on her sister. Their parents also worried about her influence. Becky wasn’t welcome at her childhood home. Shoving the thought aside, she held out her hand and helped her sister up. “Let’s go.”

      Magdaline walked alongside Becky, holding the dog in her arms, the fabric of her long dress swishing around her legs as she rushed to keep up.

      Becky slowed and held out her arms. “Hand me the dog. I’ll confront Paul. You don’t have to get in trouble.”

      Paul King, the owner of the farm next door, and Becky weren’t strangers. Far from it. But with their vastly different lifestyles now, they easily could have been. Not so long ago, he had driven her home in his courting wagon more times than she could count from Sunday singings. He confidently laid out the plans for their future, while silently she made plans for her own.

      Their more recent exchanges had been over this very same dog. Paul obviously wasn’t caring for the animals on his farm. Perhaps since his father had died and Paul had become the sole man of the house, he had let things slide. However, this time she wouldn’t hand over the dog and leave. She wanted to see for herself what was going on at her neighbor’s farm.

      “It’s okay, I’ll take the dog over and talk to him,” Becky repeated.

      Mag held the dog closer, reluctant to let him go.

      “Mag, I don’t have all day.” The sun rising higher in the sky was making her sweat in her deputy uniform. “Give me the dog and I’ll handle the situation.”

      Mag lowered her eyes to the puppy nestled in her arms. “But if he takes the dog back, he won’t be cared for. Even dogs are God’s creatures.”

      A sense of pride filled Becky. Her sister had far more spunk than she had at that age. However, she feared that kind of grit would get an Amish youngie in trouble more often than not.

      Becky tugged on the hem of her untucked uniform shirt. She’d hate to see what she looked like after the day she’d already had.

      And it was still early.

      Becky touched her sister’s sleeve. “The truth is, since the dog belongs to Paul, it’s very possible that we’ll have to give him back. But there are laws against inhumane treatment of animals. I can...”

       Her suspension. What could she really do while suspended?

      “We’ll figure this out. But first, I need to see what’s going on next door. Give me the dog.” She smiled encouragingly. “Go home. I don’t want you to get in trouble with Dat.”

      Mag jutted out her chin and pressed her lips together, the picture of defiance. “No, I’ll go with you. I’ll get back before Dat and Mem find out I’m gone.”

      A little twinge of guilt zipped through Becky. She didn’t mean to encourage her sister to disobey her parents, but deep in her heart, she couldn’t imagine her parents would want to let the treatment of this dog to continue unchecked. Animal cruelty was the only way this dog could have sores on his body and matted fur. “Let’s hurry up, then, so you can get back to your chores.”

      “Okay.” Her sister seemed to cheer up a bit. Big sister to the rescue.

      Becky hoped she didn’t look as ruffled as she felt, but she wanted to make a serious impression on Paul. He needed to take better care of his animals. Maybe the threat of interference from law enforcement would make him fall in line, but somehow she doubted it. He’d seemed unfazed the last couple times she stopped over. The sheriff’s department walked a very fine line when it came to dealing with the Amish. They wanted to respect their right to live separately while making sure laws were followed.

      Becky followed the small path that led through a crop of trees to the Kings’ house. Memories of a life lived so long ago came floating back. Memories she’d rather forget because they made her nostalgic. As a teenager, she used to run along this path to visit her friend Amy. And later when she started dating her friend’s older brother, Paul, back when she thought her life would be like her mem’s and all the female ancestors before her.

      Now,