Colin nodded. “Jonas’s spread has that creek running through it. Perfect for pasturing a herd of cattle.”
“Especially because of the ridge off to the west.” Luke’s lips tightened. “Jonas, your northern field is prime cattle land.”
“But that is my cornfield,” Jonas protested.
Luke spoke softly. “I’ve run cattle for quite a few rich men, and most of ’em wouldn’t give two shakes of a rattler’s tail about your corn.”
“They’re doing this because he’s Amish.” There had been a time when Jesse had little regard for the Amish, but that was before he knew any personally. There was no way he would ever be able to live the Plain life they espoused, but he’d come to respect Jonas’s quiet integrity. The idea that someone would try to take advantage of his friend lit a fire in him. “They think he won’t put up a fuss.”
Jonas didn’t meet his eye, but he stared at the ground before his feet with creases on his forehead. “Bishop Miller said a snitz pie might make Mr. Littlefield remove his fence.”
“Pie!” Jesse snorted. The idea was so ludicrous that all the men laughed. Even Rebecca chuckled. But the misery deepened on Jonas’s face.
“It is the Amish way to resist conflict.”
Incredulous, Jesse stared at him. “You can’t mean you’d let that man take over your home? Throw you off your own land?”
“I can do nothing.” The note of helplessness in his friend’s voice stirred Jesse’s ire. Then Jonas raised his head and fixed his gaze on Colin. “But you are an Englisch sheriff. If you talk to this Littlefield, he will listen to you.”
Talk. Jesse turned his head to spit on the grass. Though he’d never met the man, he already knew the measure of this Littlefield. Hadn’t Jesse run cattle right along with Luke? Some of those owners had more money than they could shake a stick at, but they would cheat a working man out of fifty cents if he wasn’t watchful.
Colin spoke in a soft voice. “Jonas, I’m not a sheriff anymore. I’m a preacher and a farmer.” Jonas’s shoulders slumped, and Colin went on. “But I’m also your son-in-law. I’m not going to let this happen to you.”
Beside him, Luke straightened. “Me, neither. We’ll go talk to Littlefield with you.”
Frustration tightened Jesse’s hands into fists. Luke and Colin were fine men, upstanding men, and he respected them both. But they tended to think the best of people and treated folks accordingly. Talk? If Littlefield had sent his men out armed with rifles against an Amish farmer, he wasn’t prepared to listen to talk. What was needed was a show of force. The tyrant needed to know he was dealing with more than a peace-loving Amish man.
And nobody was better equipped to make a show of force than Jesse.
He stepped forward into the center of the circle. “I’ll go.”
Colin and Luke opened their mouths, but a look of hope rose on Jonas’s face.
Jesse held up a hand to silence them. “You both have families here, obligations. I have a feeling this is going to take more than a brief visit. Besides, Luke and Emma could use a little privacy. I’ll go with Jonas and hang around his house for a while—if that’s okay with you, Jonas?”
The look he exchanged with Luke and Colin told him they agreed. If Littlefield wasn’t open to reason, he was likely to do more than put up a fence next time. The presence of a non-Amish man who wouldn’t hesitate to defend himself and his friends might cause the ruthless land grabber to think twice before acting.
Colin nodded slowly. “Sounds good to me.”
Luke’s expression held a little more reserve. “You’re sure you can handle this without losing your temper?”
Jesse deserved that. Having ridden the trail with him for years, Luke knew more than most that Jesse was known as a hothead. Not much had changed—except the drinking. He mustered a confident smile. “I’m just going to talk to the man and explain how it is in language he can understand.”
Luke frowned. “If you think you can handle it.”
“No problem.”
Colin nodded. “He’s the best one among us for the job.”
Jesse grinned. “I’ll get my things.”
And I won’t be taking any Amish pie along with me, either.
“Maummi Switzer, I wish you would sit in the shade and rest.” Katie tried to instill the right balance of concern and ease in her voice as she watched the old woman wrestle with a stubborn weed that threatened one of her tomato plants. “I will pull these weeds for you.”
“Too many for a girl to handle alone.” The old woman waved across the huge garden. “And I’ve left them too long.” She looked up. “But I thank ye kindly for lending a hand. So ist’s ja besser zwei als eins; denn sie genieβen doch ihrer Arbeit wohl.”
Katie bit back a sigh. Maummi Switzer was well known throughout Apple Grove for her ready store of proverbs. This one came straight from die Bibel, and how could she argue with that? Yes, the labor of two did yield more results than one, but if one of the laborers was a worried elderly woman with a weak heart, the risks were not worth the yield. Perhaps a dose of her own medicine would convince her.
“Ein Unkraut ist nicht mehr als eine Blume in Verkleidung.” A weed is no more than a flower in disguise. Katie’s mader had quoted that saying to Fader in the week just past. True, she had been referring to a rowdy goat that had been terrorizing the rest of the small herd they kept, but it seemed appropriate to the moment.
Or not.
Maummi Switzer straightened and pressed a fist into the small of her back, her mouth a hard line. “Did our dear Lord not say Das Unkraut sind die Kinder der Bosheit?” The weeds are the children of the wicked one.
Did the Lord say that? Katie couldn’t immediately think where in die Bible the quote appeared, but she knew better than to do battle with a master of proverbs. She conceded the point with a nod and lowered her eyes to her task of uprooting one of the wicked children that had begun to reach toward a righteous tomato plant. But she kept a covert watch on the elderly woman, who took the opportunity to stretch her back and stare toward the empty road.
Katie followed her gaze. What was taking Jonas so long? The noon meal had come and gone hours past, and there was still no sign of his return. This morning when Katie performed the favor he’d asked of her, to deliver the message to his mader, the woman she had called Maummi Switzer since she and Emma had become friends as girls, she’d been alarmed at Maummi Switzer’s pale skin and the slight tremor in her hands when she heard the news. She’d ridden her cart home to tell her own mader she would spend the day with the elderly woman, at least until Jonas returned.
Not that she could do much for a failing heart. Though she was becoming adept at binding wounds and nursing fevers, the most she could do for internal ailments was prepare a hawthorn berry tea and pray it calmed her patient. Still, Maummi Switzer was a well-loved member of the Amish community of Apple Grove, and the thought of leaving her alone to worry and fret over her son’s unusual behavior was unthinkable.
Katie didn’t doubt for a minute that the older woman’s worries were justified. She stretched her gaze across the wheat field, where the ominous thick wire sliced across the landscape. From the snatches of conversation she’d overheard, she surmised the nature of Jonas’s errand. Someone had threatened his land and Bishop Miller had refused help. Therefore, Jonas had turned to his Englisch son-in-law.
Katie’s fingers tightened around a fledgling weed, and she ripped it out of the soft earth with a savage gesture. How could Fader Miller refuse to help Jonas in the face of violent men? It was his job, his responsibility as bishop, to shepherd God’s flock here in Apple Grove. A shepherd did not leave his sheep to face the wolves alone, did he? Had Fader Miller’s grief over Samuel become so bitter that it overshadowed his God-given duty?
A flush warmed her cheeks at the rebellious thought. Who was she to question God’s anointed leader? Forgive me, Almighty One. She looked again at the ugly line, the Englisch fence that stretched from east to west across
the neatly plowed field. And please bless Jonas with a peaceful solution.
“There!”
Maummi Switzer’s shout drew her attention from her prayer. She looked in the direction the gnarled finger pointed. An Amish buggy top the hill. Jonas had finally returned home, and he was not alone. Beside the buggy trotted a horse, with a man astride the animal’s back in the manner of Englischers. A light-colored oblong hat rested on his head, and his trousers were the color of baked bread instead of black, as was proper for an Amish man.
The old woman shielded her eyes with a hand. “Who rides with him? Is it Emma’s Luke or Rebecca’s Colin?” Excitement lightened her voice. “Are there others in the buggy with Jonas?”
Had Rebecca or Emma returned with their father for a visit? A pleasant thought, but as the travelers neared, Katie could make out a single black-clad figure seated on the buggy’s bench. “No,” she told the woman gently. “Jonas rides alone.”
Maummi Switzer’s shoulders slumped, but then she brightened. “No matter. We will offer refreshment to the men to wash the dust of the road from their throats. Come, child, and fetch for me lemonade from the cellar.”
Katie gathered the folds of her black skirt tightly around her legs so as not to brush against the plants unnecessarily and followed Maummi Switzer out of the garden. Thank goodness for the invitation to help. She didn’t want to appear too eager to hear the news lest she be mistaken for a gossip, but her curiosity had been piqued, and she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving before discovering the details.
The men arrived as they neared the Switzers’ front porch.
“Neither of my girls’ Englisch husbands,” Maummi Switzer mumbled more to herself than to Katie. “’Tis the cowboy.”
Katie stepped up on the porch to stand beside Maummi Switzer and watch their approach. A worried frown sat heavily on Jonas’s forehead, and the gestures with which he halted Big Ed and climbed down from the buggy’s bench were stiff. She turned her gaze toward the horse and its rider.
Jesse Montgomery sat easy in the saddle, his movements as he reined his mount toward a shady spot beneath thickly leaved tree branches seeming to be at one with the animal. With no discernible movement on the reins in his hand, he brought the horse to a stop and swung his leg over. He hopped to the ground with the grace of one who had done it hundreds of times before, and crossed the grass toward the house with a smile on his face.
“Afternoon, ma’am,” he said to Maummi Switzer. “You’re as pretty as ever. Been too long since you’ve been out for a visit.”
“The road runs both ways.” Though a scowl accompanied the comment, Katie detected a note of warmth in the often peevish voice. If Maummi permitted him to call her “pretty,” she must favor the man.
“Yes, ma’am, it does.” He approached the porch and stood looking up at her from the shade of his brim. “If Luke wouldn’t keep me so busy planting and tending that sorry bunch of cattle he calls a herd, I’d have more time for visits.” His gaze slid sideways to connect with Katie’s, and he snatched the hat off his head. “Pleasure to see you again, Miz Miller.”
During the moment in which their eyes met, warmth crept upward toward Katie’s cheeks. Jesse’s rugged good looks and charming manners had always tended to unnerve her on the few occasions when she’d made the two-hour trip for a friendly visit with Emma, her best friend from childhood. Not that Amish men weren’t equally charming, but something about the half grin that hovered around Jesse’s mouth when he looked at her made her feel special, as though he had a secret he would only share with her.
But he was Englisch, so certainly that half grin was inappropriate and her feelings sinful.
She lowered her gaze to the boards at her feet. “A pleasant afternoon to you, Mr. Montgomery.”
“Call me Jesse.” He made the same request every time. Was it her imagination, or had his tone warmed slightly when he spoke to her?
Jonas hurried toward them, anxiety etched on his face. “You have seen the fence?” He directed the question toward his mother, but he included Katie with a glance.
Maummi Switzer nodded. “Ja. We have seen.” She took a step toward her son. “What does it mean, Jonas?”
“A man wants our land. An Englisch man. He says we must stay here, on this side, or he will shoot us.”
“Shoot us? Gott helfe uns!” Maummi Switzer slapped a hand to her chest and staggered on her feet.
Alarmed, Katie stepped to the old woman’s side and slipped an arm around her waist to support her. Her body felt frail, and she leaned heavily against the younger woman.
Jesse shook his head. “Now, ma’am, don’t you lose any sleep over this. I’m here to help. Your land is safe.”
The frail body relaxed a fraction within the circle of Katie’s arms. “You will protect us?”
“Yes, ma’am. You can count on it. I’ll need a place to stretch out my bedroll for a few days and maybe a meal or two.”
Jesse was planning to stay here, on the Switzer farm? Relief bloomed inside Katie’s chest. His presence would certainly deter ruthless Englisch men bent on disrupting the peace of their Plain lives. Though ruggedly handsome, he carried a formidable manner—no doubt acquired from years of wild living. Such stories Emma told about Jesse’s rowdy days on the cattle trail! The man standing before her was as different from her peace-loving Samuel as a dove from one of the grey hawks that glided overhead searching for helpless prey on the ground. Samuel had been the perfect Amish man, her ideal mate from the time they tromped together across the fields to the schoolhouse, their lunch pails swinging from their hands. And yet, in a secret part of her heart, she was fascinated by Jesse. What made a man choose to live a wild life, as he had done?
With a start she realized she’d been staring at him as her thoughts wandered, and he had become aware of her regard. His private smile deepened and carved the hint of a dimple in one cheek. Blushing, she busied herself with brushing a speck of garden soil from her skirt.
“You will stay here with us?” Maummi Switzer’s voice was bright with enthusiasm.
“If you’d be so kind, Miz Switzer. I promise not to be too much trouble.” His grin was exactly the same as a young boy promising to eat his vegetables after he finished a piece of pie and cream. When that grin turned toward her, a pleasant tickle started deep in Katie’s stomach.
“Ach! What help will you be? Trouble follows close wherever you go.” Though Maummi Switzer pasted on a scowl, Katie noted that her voice contradicted her words. “You will sleep in the back upstairs room, where you can watch the fields through the window.” To Katie she said, “Come, child. You can fetch for me the lemonade while I begin the evening meal.”
Katie turned to follow the old woman into the house, but not without a final look toward Jesse Montgomery.
THREE
Jesse stood at the window of his new quarters and watched Katie’s cart disappear over a rise in the road. She was a fine-looking girl, with gleaming dark hair mostly hidden beneath that white bonnet thing all Amish women wore. The sun had kissed the smooth skin of her cheeks and scattered a charming spray of freckles across her nose. He’d seen her once or twice over at Emma and Luke’s place and found her attractive, though a touch on the quiet side. He’d never heard her say more than five words at a time, but he’d heard her chatting with Maummi Switzer in the kitchen while he stowed his gear in the spare bedroom he’d been assigned upstairs.
What a shame, a pretty young gal like that being a widow. Emma had told him Katie’s husband died a year ago, shortly before they had taken him in. He supposed he’d met her back then, but he could recall little of that time. His memory was a blur of shakes and misery as his body demanded the whiskey that had devoured his life every day for the previous five years. The shakes weren’t the worst part, though. A fog had descended on his mind during those years of rowdy living, and at one time he’d feared he might never be able to escape it, that his ravaged thoughts might never again be clear enough to focus on
anything except how to get the next drink.
With a shake of his head he dislodged the memory of those long, agonizing days and went outside to find Jonas. “You ready to head over to Littlefield’s place?”
Jonas fidgeted with his suspenders, an unusually anxious gesture for one who was normally so outwardly calm. “Perhaps tomorrow would be better. To pay a call before the evening meal is bad manners, as though we expect an invitation to stay.”
“I don’t plan on paying a social call, Jonas. I’m going to tell the man straight up to tear down his fence and get off your property.” He smiled. “There’s not much chance of us being invited to supper.”
Color swept Jonas’s cheeks. “Mader has prepared a bounteous meal for us here to welcome you.” He gestured toward the house, where Maummi Switzer could be seen through the wide kitchen window, her attention fixed on some task or other. “She will be angry if we are late.”
“Well, I’ve been on the receiving end of her ire before, and it isn’t a place I want to be again.” Jesse recalled the cattle drive when a domineering Maummi Switzer had nursed him over a busted leg—and was none too motherly. He rubbed the scar on his thigh that still ached when rains gathered on the Kansas plain. Then he leveled a stern gaze on Jonas. “But she said it would be an hour or so, and my job won’t take long. If you’d rather stay here—”
Jonas’s fingers gripped the fabric of the suspenders that lay across his shoulders. “I thought perhaps…” With a shake of his head, he met Jesse’s eye. “I need time to master my anger.”
“Anger is good. Littlefield will see it and know we mean business.”
A Cowboy at Heart Page 3