His Montana Sweetheart (Big Sky Centennial Book 2)

by Ruth Logan Herne

  He’d never seen the mild-mannered woman with such fire in her eyes. And what was that horrible smell? It seemed to be coming from his nephew. “I reckon I’d be the one holding him by the collar if I knew. What did you do this time, sohn?”

  Micah glared at him. “I’m not your son.”

  “That’s neither here nor there. You did something to upset Mrs. Lapp. What was it?”

  Micah looked down at his bare toes. “Nothing.”

  Faith let go of his shirt and gestured toward the woman standing with her. “This is my friend Clara Barkman. Clara saw him jump out of a tree onto one of my alpacas.”

  Ethan flinched. He’d heard stories about the way Faith Lapp valued her strange animals. She treated them almost like family. How much would an alpaca cost if he had to replace one? He could barely afford to feed the family and his horses as it was. He hadn’t been able to go logging in weeks. Not since his brother’s children had come to live with him over a month ago. No cut timber to sell meant zero income.

  Micah raked his bare toes through the dirt. “I just wanted to ride one. I didn’t mean any harm.”

  Faith scowled at him. “They’re very delicate animals. They can’t carry a rider bigger than a two-year-old. Had you asked permission to ride one of them, I would have told you that. You could have seriously injured Myrtle.”

  “Or you might have been injured yourself,” Clara added in a small voice.

  He liked that she was thinking of the child. The recent deaths of his brother and sister-in-law had left him in charge of their three small children. He gazed at Micah’s belligerent face. They were still finding their way with each other. Micah was having a much harder time than his younger brother and sister.

  The boy was only eight, but he wasn’t too young to learn responsibility and respect. “Micah will work off any damages that are owed, Mrs. Lapp. Go up to the house, boy. We’ll talk about this later.”

  Micah’s chin came up. “I’m not scared of you.”

  Ethan managed to keep a stern face, but it was difficult. Micah was so much like his father had been at that age. Always ready to scrap with his bigger, older brother. Ethan summoned a forbidding tone. “You should be. Don’t make me tell you twice. Go!”

  Micah’s defiance crumbled. He bolted toward the house. The fire in Faith Lapp’s eyes cooled as she watched the boy race up the front porch steps. Her expression turned to one of sympathy when she looked back at Ethan. “I know how troubled a boy can be when he has lost his parents as Micah has. It was the same with my nephew when Kyle first came to me. It takes time, and it takes attention to help them recover.”

  Why did women always think he needed a lecture on how to manage the children? He’d already had plenty of that from his aunts. Was he ever to have any peace? “I’ll handle Micah in my own way. Is there anything else?”

  He shoved the barn door wide open and led his team of draft horses out. Faith moved aside, but Clara shrieked and threw up her hands as she scurried backward, almost falling in her haste. The horses snorted and tossed their heads, jerking him off the ground for an instant. Terror-stricken, Clara covered her face with her hands. What was wrong with her?

  He calmed his animals. “Easy, boys, easy.”

  Faith wrapped her arm around Clara’s shoulders and moved her to the side. “Clara is frightened by large horses. Would you take them away, please, Mr. Gingerich?”

  “An Amish woman who is afraid of horses?” He would have laughed at the idea, but the proof of it was cowering before him.

  “Only big ones,” Clara admitted breathlessly. She had her eyes scrunched shut.

  “These are big,” he acknowledged as he led them past the women to the nearby pasture gate. He owned two teams of massive Belgians, among the largest of all draft horse breeds. They were his most prized possessions. He loved their strength and their power, their placid nature and their willingness to work as hard as he asked without flagging. How could anyone be afraid of such gentle giants?

  When he turned them loose in the pasture, Fred and Dutch took off at a thundering gallop, bucking like colts and nipping playfully at each other. He never grew tired of watching the matching sorrels with their sleek red-brown coats and blond manes and tails. They were beautiful to behold.

  But he had more than his horses to look after now. He had three kinder to care for. One of them was bent on getting himself into trouble at every turn. Ethan came back to stand by Faith. Now that the horses were gone, Clara had her eyes open. It was easy to see she was embarrassed by her reaction. Her cheeks were bright red. Her gaze was focused on her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “I’m sorry I made a fuss. I wasn’t expecting to see them.”

  He took pity on her. “My sister-in-law would shriek at the sight of the tiniest spider in the house. Everyone is afraid of something.”

  Clara gave him a tremulous smile, a reward for his kindness. “My father’s team of draft horses bolted and ran over me when I was six.”

  “Were you badly hurt?” he asked.

  The bright color was fading from her cheeks. “Nee, their big feet missed me by the grace of God.”

  “It’s not so surprising. My teams pay close attention to where they put their hooves. They don’t like to be tripped up. But you didn’t come to talk about horses. What kind of damages do I owe for the injury to your animal, Mrs. Lapp?”

  “Myrtle seems to be all right. She had a bad fright more than anything. She may be skittish for a few days, but I think she’ll recover.

  “You let me know if she starts ailing. I’ll send Micah to work for you for the next three days, if that’s agreeable.”

  “If you are sure you don’t need him here.”

  “I can spare him for the mornings. Is that acceptable?”

  Faith nodded. “Ja, it is. Perhaps if he learns more about alpacas, he’ll be careful around them. I’m afraid Myrtle spit on him. It will take a few days of airing for the smell to get out of his clothes.”

  “Serves him right. I’ll see that he’s punished for what he did.”

  Clara’s gaze snapped up and locked with his for an instant before she looked down again. “He’s only a little boy.”

  “He’s old enough to know better. I don’t tolerate careless or wild behavior around my animals. He knows that. If there’s nothing else, I’ve got two more horses that need to go out to pasture. They’re big ones, too,” he added.

  Clara flinched at his remark. He regretted sounding short-tempered, but before he could form some kind of apology, the women turned and walked away.

  His eyes stayed on the gently swaying figure of Clara as she and Faith went down the lane. Clara Barkman. He wasn’t familiar with the name. Was she a local woman? He didn’t attend the same church group as his neighbors, so he hadn’t seen her before.

  She stopped and glanced back for a moment. He raised a hand to wave. She suddenly rushed to catch up with Faith. He watched until they rounded the bend in the road, but she didn’t look back again. She was a pretty woman. Was she married?

  He shoved aside the thought. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t interested in her or any woman. Clara might be pretty, but a pretty face didn’t mean much. He had loved one beautiful woman beyond all reason. She said that she loved him, too, but she had married another man. A man he had introduced her to... His best friend. Their betrayal of his trust cut deep. He didn’t know if it would ever heal although he tried his best to forgive them.

  Jenny’s beautiful face hid a selfish nature. She decided not to settle for a poor fellow with only his horses and his heart to offer her. She wanted a secure life. She found it with a man who owned a big house and his own factory. An Englisch man. That she had to turn her back on her Amish faith hadn’t deterred her any more than it had kept his mother from leaving.

  Ethan rubbed his hand over his chest, but
it didn’t lessen the ache those memories caused.

  He returned to the barn and brought Rosie and Golda out. After checking them over, he turned them loose in the pasture, too. Golda took off at a gallop to catch up with the boys, but pregnant Rosie buried her nose in the long grass and began tearing up mouthfuls near his feet. He patted her sleek shoulder. “Eat good, little mudder. I need a strong, healthy hutsh from you.”

  Rosie and her colt would be the foundation of his business as a draft horse breeder and trainer. Up until now, he’d made a living by logging, but with the addition of the children in his life, he needed a way to earn a living that didn’t take him away from home for much of the fall and early winter. It was his new plan for the future, but he knew God had a way of changing a man’s plans without warning.

  He settled his hat lower on his brow as he glanced toward the house, where Micah was waiting for him. He’d never expected to raise his niece and nephews. He drew comfort from knowing he was doing what his brother would have wanted, but he hadn’t realized how hard it would be. For everyone.

  What could he say to make Micah understand he was traveling down the wrong path? Ethan looked up at the cloudless blue sky. “God, I don’t know why You needed my brother and his wife with You, but we sure do miss them. If You want me to look after their kinder, You had better show me the way to make it work, Lord, because right now I’m lost.”

  He shook off the sadness that made his eyes sting. He wouldn’t dwell on his loss. He couldn’t afford to let grief muddle his thinking. Work would help clear his head.

  He turned away from the house and entered the barn. Micah could stew a few minutes. Grabbing a pitchfork, he began tossing fresh straw into the stalls. He needed to find the right thing to say to Micah. More important, he needed to find a way to take care of all the children that didn’t involve sending them to live with their only other family members.

  Ethan refused to consider sending them to his mother. She had given up her Amish faith and any right to be considered part of the family when she left his father. Ethan did have two elderly aunts willing to take one child each, but they wanted to leave Micah with him. He couldn’t do that to them.

  Separating the kinder was something he knew his brother wouldn’t want. Not after the way they had been torn apart as children.

  * * *

  Clara resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder again as she and Faith walked away from Ethan’s home. What kind of punishment did he have planned for Micah? She flinched at the memory of her uncle taking a strap to her back.

  Like Micah, she and her sisters had been taken in by their uncle after their parents died. Their uncle Morris was a weak, cruel man. He made their lives miserable for years. The final straw came when he tried to force her to marry a horrible man. By the grace of God and with the bravery of her sister Lizzie, they were able to escape. Now they lived with their grandfather in the Amish community of Hope Springs, Ohio. Clara tried hard to put her unhappy past behind her, but sometimes it came back to haunt her. Like now.

  She knew not every man was cruel. Faith’s husband was a wonderful, kind husband and father, but Ethan Gingerich looked and sounded so stern. She glanced at Faith. “Do you think Micah will be all right?”

  “He wasn’t hurt in the fall. Why wouldn’t he be all right?”

  Clara kept her pace slow to match Faith’s limping stride. Faith wore a brace on one leg due to an old injury. “Did Micah’s onkel seem angry to you? He seemed very angry to me.”

  “I could see he was disappointed in the boy’s behavior. That’s to be expected.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  “Not much really. He keeps to himself. He moved here about two years ago. He makes a living logging with his horses. He lived alone until recently. One day last month, he stopped by to ask Adrian to look after his horses while he went to Indiana for a funeral. Apparently, his brother and his brother’s wife were struck and killed by lightning while they were working in the field. It was a terrible tragedy. Ethan brought their children back to live with him. I took some food to them when they first arrived. The poor children looked so lost. I should’ve gone back to visit.”

  “You’ve had your hands full with the new baby.”

  “That’s true, but it’s no excuse for being a poor neighbor. I hope their church has been helping.”

  They rounded a bend in the road, and Clara couldn’t see the house behind them anymore. A large cornfield blocked her view. The sea of green leaves and golden tassels danced in the wind making rattling, hissing sounds as the stiff leaves slapped against each other.

  Would Ethan slap Micah?

  The boy was so small, and Ethan was a big man. He could easily hurt the child. She dreaded to think Micah was being punished because she was the one who saw him jump on Myrtle. She had been so startled that she had immediately called Faith to the window. If only she had remained silent. The boy would have gone home, and no one would have known about his actions. But that wouldn’t have been right, either.

  She prayed Ethan would deal with Micah kindly, but not knowing troubled her. The Amish were gentle people. She knew that, but evil could lurk among the good. Her uncle was proof of that. Her heart started pounding painfully as she remembered his cruelty.

  She stopped in the roadway and clasped her arms across her middle as she closed her eyes. Images of her uncle raising his wooden rod to strike her flashed into her mind and she braced for the blow. Was Micah’s uncle as cruel as hers had been? It wasn’t likely, but what if he was?

  “What is it, Clara?”

  Clara opened her eyes and saw the concern on her friend’s face. She drew a shaky breath. That part of her life was over. She and her three sisters were safe. Their uncle couldn’t hurt them anymore. She had to remind herself of that fact every day. After years of fear and meekness, of striving desperately to please her uncle and failing, it was sometimes hard to believe God had finally answered her prayers. Was Micah praying for deliverance from his uncle’s wrath, too? She had to know.

  She couldn’t leave without knowing.

  “Faith, would you mind if we called it quits early today?”

  “Of course not. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. My sisters are putting up corn this afternoon. I know they could use my help. I’ll walk home from here.”

  “It will take more than one day to put up corn for your family. Take tomorrow off, too. Why don’t we get together again on Saturday?”

  Clara took two steps backward. She wanted to race back to the Gingerich farm, but she didn’t want to arouse Faith’s suspicions. “Are you sure you want me to come back? We’ve only a few more hours of spinning to do, and then we’ll be done with this year’s fleece.”

  “Please do come. I’ve enjoyed working with you so much. I want one last day together even if it’s only for a few hours.”

  “All right. I’ll see you Saturday morning.” Clara turned and hurried back the way they had come, but instead of going home, she stopped at the bend in the road that led to Ethan’s farm.

  She rubbed her damp palms on the sides of her dress. What reason would she give for returning? She could hardly tell a man she’d just met that she feared he beat his children. Even if she saw him punishing Micah, what right did she have to interfere? None.

  Yet how could she stand by and do nothing? It was partly her fault the boy was in trouble. If only she knew what was happening to the child.

  Ethan might be a kind and fair guardian. Her Amish faith dictated that she see only the good in every man until shown otherwise. She certainly had no business suspecting Ethan Gingerich of evil, but she had to know that Micah was all right. Her life and her sister’s lives might have been so much better if someone had cared enough to check on them.

  None of them had admitted their abuse to anyone. They had been too asha
med to speak of it. Only her sister Lizzie had been strong enough to break the pattern by running away. She found a wonderful home for them with their grandfather. She freed them all and saved Clara from being forced to marry an odious man.

  She shuddered at the thought of what her life might have been like without her sister’s bravery. God put more courage in Lizzie’s little finger than Clara had in her whole body.

  She glanced at the cornfield separating her from Ethan’s home. She might not be brave, but a child’s welfare could be at stake. She couldn’t turn away from that.

  Gathering what small courage she possessed, Clara moved off the road and into the cornfield beside the lane. The tall green stalks would hide her from view. If her suspicions were groundless, Ethan need never know she had come back to check on him.

  The corn patch ended a few dozen yards from the back of the house. With her heart pounding in her throat, she ran across the open strip of grass and flattened herself against the back wall of the house. Had she been seen? She waited for sounds of discovery.

  It was the height of summer, so the windows were all open to catch the slightest breeze. She heard the sound of voices coming from the window near the north corner of the building. Ducking low, she passed beneath one window and stopped under the next. Two more steps would put her beside the front porch. She thought the kitchen must be on the other side of the wall where she crouched.

  “I’m asking for an explanation, Micah. Now’s your chance to set the record straight.”

  Only silence followed Ethan’s words. She strained to hear Micah’s reply.

  “What were you thinking?”

  Clara nearly jumped out of her skin. Ethan had moved to stand beside the window where she was hunkering. He was directly above her. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to breathe.

  Please, Lord, don’t let him see me.

  Finally, she heard heavy footsteps moving away, followed by the scrape of a chair across the floor. She took a badly needed breath. Ethan said, “Micah, what am I to do with you?”