A Cowboy at Heart

by Lori Copeland

  The horse slowed his pace to that of a sheep grazing in a clover field, but he obediently continued his fifth circuit around the Switzer house. Good old Rex. Jesse would have given him an affectionate slap on the neck if he could have done it without falling.

  “You sure you don’t want to set a spell?” Deep creases lined Butch’s youthful forehead. “You’re looking kinda greenish.”

  That’s because I’m fighting not to heave my breakfast.

  But Jesse gave a curt nod and saved himself the effort of answering. A man couldn’t get well sitting around in a rocking chair all day. He had to keep blood pumping through his veins. Already he could tell a difference in his strength, and this was only the second day. His shoulder was healing. When he did sit, he’d taken to moving the joint around as much as he could tolerate. This morning he could lift it higher than yesterday. What would Katie say about his efforts?

  Katie.

  Only two days had passed since she left, but it felt like weeks. Amazing how the absence of her quiet, serene presence and her sweet smile affected everyone. Life went on around the farm as usual. Jonas was plowing a new field, so he’d turned over the responsibility of feeding and watering the animals to Butch. Maummi Switzer performed her chores in the house and kitchen with the same quiet efficiency he’d always known her to have. Jesse pitched in wherever he could, when he wasn’t napping, and he had even taken a chair and Jonas’s hunting rifle out to the garden yesterday afternoon to stand guard against a pack of jackrabbits that had shown too keen an interest in the tender plants. He hadn’t managed to hit anything left handed yet, but at least the noise kept them on the run. But without Katie, everything seemed…quieter. More solemn.

  “Look there, sir.” Butch’s quiet voice interrupted his thoughts.

  Jesse followed the boy’s gaze across the wheatfield, where a pair of horses trotted along the fence line. Their riders’ heads were turned toward them, though at this distance Jesse couldn’t identify either one. Could it be Woodard and Sawyer? His anger flared and he paused. Rex came to a halt. Let them see that he wasn’t afraid of any cowardly scum who would shoot a man in the back and leave him for dead. And let them report back to their boss that Jesse Montgomery was upright and not afraid to stand his ground.

  After a moment, they turned and headed away, across the creek, in the direction of Littlefield’s homestead.

  Jesse leaned heavily against Rex’s side. Butch stepped closer, concern etched on his young face, but Jesse waved him off. “I’m all right. I think I’ll head back to the porch to rest a minute, though.”

  Instead of continuing on their circuit of the house, the two turned and retraced their steps.

  “Mr. Switzer is a nice man.” Butch turned troubled eyes on Jesse as they walked. “And Miz Switzer wouldn’t hurt a living soul. How come these men are pestering them?”

  “Because some men would rather take what they want instead of working for it. They’ll look for someone they can tyrannize, who won’t put up a fuss. That’s the worst kind of yellow streak there is, son.” Jesse pressed his lips together. He could list a few choice descriptions of people like Littlefield, but they wouldn’t be proper for young ears.

  “They didn’t teer…teeruh…They didn’t bully you.”

  “They tried.” His expression turned grim. “Right before they shot me.” Ordinarily he’d never turn his back on a man. Why had he dropped his guard that day?

  They continued on a few steps.

  “They ought not be allowed to get away with it.” Righteous indignation sounded in Butch’s tone. “We ought to do something.”

  Jesse turned to look at him. Out of the mouth of babes…“We’ll let the sheriff sort this out. It’s both cowardly and against the law to shoot a man in the back. My first instinct is to shoot back, but that isn’t the way to live. One shooting leads to another and then another.”

  He glanced toward the house. Jonas and his family had the right idea, though he didn’t think he could ever follow their paths. Be nice if he could. Be real nice to settle back and let God handle the big stuff.

  “We’ll let the sheriff sort this out,” he told the boy. “It’s just been a few days since Luke rode over to Hays City and told him about the shooting. I expect we’ll hear something any day now.”

  They arrived at the porch. Rex paused alongside the steps, and Jesse was grateful. It was all he could do to climb them, pulling his weight along the railing. He collapsed into the rocking chair.

  Good job, Montgomery. You’re only years away from full recovery.

  After dinner, Maummi Switzer told Butch to put a chair beside the hand pump, and then she assigned Jesse the task of washing up the dishes. Though he made a point of grumbling about being given women’s work, he’d done cleanup duty on cattle drives more often than he could count and privately appreciated the chore. When he first came to stay with the Switzers, he’d intended to work alongside Jonas to earn his keep. He couldn’t yet handle a plow, but he could certainly manage a few dishes.

  When an unknown horse hugging close to the fence topped the northeastern ridge at a canter, Jesse sat upright in the chair, his senses on full alert. He automatically felt for his holster and found it missing. He should have demanded that Jonas let him keep his pistol nearby. The man in the saddle caught sight of Jonas, who walked slowly behind a plow pulled by Big Ed, leaving even rows of freshly turned soil behind him. Jonas paused, exchanged a word with the stranger, and then waved in the direction of the house. When he returned to his work, the horse headed his way and Jesse relaxed. Jonas wouldn’t react so calmly to one of Littlefield’s men.

  Jesse watched as the animal drew close enough to see a tin star pinned to the rider’s vest. The sheriff. And he was coming from the direction of Littlefield’s place.

  “Sheriff,” he acknowledged as soon as the horse drew near enough for speech. “Wondered when we’d be seeing you.”

  “I got out here as soon as I could.” He swung his leg over his horse’s back and stepped to the ground, and then he came toward Jesse with an outstretched hand. “You’d be Jesse Montgomery?”

  “That would be me.” Jesse got to his feet and, with a grimace, gingerly extended his right hand.

  Instead of shaking it, the sheriff waved the gesture off. “Heard you’re recovering from a gunshot. Sit down, son, before you fall down. I’m Ben Wiley, the sheriff over to Hays City.”

  Jesse didn’t know whether to be relieved or embarrassed at the invitation to sit, but he gratefully obeyed. “Ripped up my shoulder pretty good,” he said. “They got me in the back.”

  Wiley took his hat off and smoothed his balding scalp. “Yeah. A man’s got to be pretty low to do that.”

  Jesse arched an eyebrow. “You talked to Sawyer?”

  The sheriff shook his head. “I just came from Littlefield’s spread. The man who shot you lit out of here right after. They ain’t seen or heard from him since. Scared of the law, they say.”

  “Left?” Jesse figured as much. A man who would shoot another man in the back wouldn’t hang around long.

  “Littlefield said he was feeble. You know.” The sheriff tapped the side of his head with a finger. “Bucket’s half empty. He’d hired him on out of pity, but if he’d known the boy was dangerous, he would have sent him packing long before.”

  “What about Woodard? Did you happen to see him while you were there?”

  “I did. He told me what happened. Said he witnessed the whole thing. Said you two exchanged a few heated words, and then Sawyer drew on you after you turned away.”

  “Did he explain why he rode off and left me for dead on the ground?”

  The older man’s expression grew solemn. “No. The way he told it, you were shot but still on your horse and riding for home. He said he was sure you’d make it, seeing as how it wasn’t that far.”

  “He’s lying. I hit the ground.” He pointed to the head wound. “Fell on a rock and knocked myself senseless.”

  Wiley’s h
and rose to his lips while he thought. “I don’t hold with leaving a wounded man without help, but there ain’t no law against it. Woodard didn’t strike me as a charitable sort.”

  Jesse almost laughed at the idea. “No, I wouldn’t call him charitable.” He sobered. “Littlefield is trying to run my Amish friend off his land. He’s strung wire and cut off his water rights. You saw the fence.”

  Wiley nodded. “But that’s not the way Mr. Littlefield tells it.”

  “I’m sure it isn’t.”

  The sheriff’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw hardened.

  So that was the lay of the land. Littlefield had gotten to him. Probably not a bribe, because Wiley didn’t look like the kind of man who would take part in an underhanded scheme, but he’d been won over to Littlefield’s camp. Maybe nice manners and polished words impressed him. Jesse knew the cattle baron was capable of both.

  “Every day a couple of his boys ride by trying to scare the family. The have the womenfolk upset, not to mention the extra work they’ve added.”

  “There’s no law against riding on your own land.”

  “No, there isn’t,” Jesse agreed. “But we can’t stand by and let them terrorize the family. Right now they have to haul water to the stock; that’s mighty hard to swallow when they were accustomed to having their private water supply.”

  Apparently Sheriff Wiley wasn’t willing to discuss the point further. He straightened. “Well, I wouldn’t worry none. The fella that shot you is long gone, and the water rights—well, that’s something the Switzers will have to talk to Littlefield about. He seems like a reasonable sort. Surely they can come to some suitable agreement.”

  Jesse’s gaze swept the house, the garden, barn, and beyond, where Jonas toiled behind the plow. “This place has been here for years. Littlefield’s house is so new the roof hasn’t even seen a good rain yet. How can his claim be valid?”

  “Look, I don’t know about land boundaries and the like. That’s up to the folks involved.” He placed the hat back on his head. “I’d say they’ll get it worked out.”

  Jesse clamped his mouth shut. Though he was so frustrated he could snarl, he’d better not antagonize the lawman. They might need him before this thing was over.

  Sheriff Wiley mounted his horse. “Oh, I nearly forgot. Mr. Littlefield asked me to convey his hope that you’re feeling better soon. He said to let him know if there’s anything he can do.”

  He can move that fence. But Jesse held his tongue. The sheriff kneed his horse and took off in the direction of the road.

  So much for his help. If anything was done about the matter, Jesse would have to do it.

  ELEVEN

  Katie’s father circled his buggy in front of Leo Stolzfus’s barn and stopped near a group of black-clad, bonneted women. Noah, Leo’s sixteen-year-old son, came forward to help first Katie’s mother down from the front bench and then Katie. She allowed herself to be lifted from the back bench by large hands that nearly encircled her waist, and she awarded the young man a smile of gratitude when he set her on the ground. With a tug to straighten her skirt and a quick check to be sure her church bonnet was in place over her hair, she hurried to join the ladies and leave the way clear for the next arrivals. Fader flicked the reins and the horse lurched toward the barnyard, where many identical buggies already formed neat rows. As he pulled away, another horse trotted into his place.

  Katie found herself surrounded by young women.

  “We heard an Englisch man is staying at Jonas Switzer’s house.” Interest gleamed in Edna Eicher’s wide eyes. “And that he was shot with a gun.”

  “And we heard you were there,” said Bertha Schrock.

  Charity Wagler, whose thin frame and gangly height showed signs of matching those of her older brothers, bent at her waist to lean close to Katie. “Is it true? Did you see him being shot?”

  “I see you have been listening to gossip.” Katie pressed her lips into a disapproving line. “What you do not see with your eyes, do not witness with your mouth.” It was one of Maummi Switzer’s favorite proverbs.

  “Ja, ja,” answered Bertha, unimpressed. “But is it true?”

  “No, it is not true.” Three sets of shoulders sagged with disappointment before Katie continued. “’Tis true he was shot, but I was not witness to the shooting. I merely tended his wounds, along with Maummi Switzer.”

  Their interest flared once again.

  “I heard my papa say that a rich Englisch man intends to drive Jonas Switzer off his land.” Charity’s eyes rounded with dismay. “If he succeeds, the rest of us may soon lose our homes as well.”

  “Is it so, Katie? Is Jonas refused access to his land by a fence?” asked Edna, clearly distraught at the idea.

  “Ja. That much is true.”

  Silence fell on them as the women exchanged worried glances.

  “I heard the Englisch man who was injured is a cowboy, and that he intends to fight rather than let Jonas’s land be stolen from him.” A grin appeared on Bertha’s face. “Is he handsome, this cowboy?”

  Something in the line of buggies waiting to unload their passengers caught Katie’s eye. A tall figure wearing a light-colored oblong hat, which stood out from the round, black hats Amish men wore to church like a duck egg in a hen’s nest. No, surely that was not Jesse. He could not possibly be coming to an Amish church meeting. When she last saw him three days ago he could barely sit upright in a chair for more than a few hours without sleeping. Yet there was a young boy about Butch’s size seated next to this man, and that was Jonas on the front bench, and Maummi Switzer beside him. A flutter began deep in her stomach. Jesse was not Amish, and she knew he was skeptical of Amish practices. Why, then, come to church? Perhaps this was an attempt to please his host? Or—the flutter increased—perhaps he’d come to see her.

  “Well?” Charity interrupted her thoughts. “Is he handsome, this cowboy?”

  Katie wiped damp hands on the rough fabric of her dress. “You may judge for yourself. There he is.”

  They turned in time to see Jonas’s buggy approach. Edna drew in a breath, and delight sparkled in Bertha’s eyes.

  “Ja,” whispered Charity. “Not at all hard on the eyes, for an Englisch man.”

  The buggy rolled to a stop and Noah came forward to lift Maummi Switzer down. On the other side, Butch hopped to the ground and came around the rear. Katie noticed he wore a new pair of broadfall trousers that fit him much better than his old ones. His shirt was of Englisch style, and his hat was a miniature of Jesse’s. The boy came to a halt on this side of the buggy and looked up, waiting for Jesse to climb down.

  He moved slowly and, she noted, used his left arm to grip the buggy’s side as he lowered himself to the ground. His right arm he kept protectively close to his body. When his feet were firmly on the ground, he waved at Jonas and watched him pull away. Then he turned, his expression guarded and his eyes darting around the crowd, whose attention was fixed on him. Katie felt a wave of compassion. No doubt he was embarrassed, being let off up front with the women, but she could see by his slight waver that he was not yet fully steady on his feet. Though the barnyard where the buggies were left during the meeting was not far, if he’d had to walk the short distance he may have collapsed from the strain.

  His gaze fell on her. A slow smile transformed his expression, and she knew there could be no other reason for Jesse’s presence at an Amish church meeting. He had come to see her. An answering warmth spread through her insides, and a smile broke across her face. The buzz of women’s hushed whispers sounded in her ears. Their silent exchange had been noted. She could not muster the urge to care.

  Butch had also caught sight of her and rushed forward.

  “Katie! I’ve been looking after him like you told me. He’s walking more and more, and last night he even took Rex out for a ride!”

  She tore her eyes from Jesse to smile down at the boy. She had not seen him this animated since he first arrived at the Switzer farm. “You have done we
ll, Butch. And look at you.” She made a show of examining his new clothing. “I see that Maummi Switzer’s needle has not been idle.”

  Butch started to reply, but at that moment he became aware that they were the center of attention. His cheeks reddened, and he mumbled something about his old clothes being fine for farm work. Then he returned to Jesse’s side.

  Jesse apparently noticed the staring eyes of the women. He put on a wide smile and spoke in a voice intended to be overheard. “Good morning, Katie Miller. I’ve come to show you what your efforts have done. I’m almost good as new, thanks to you.” His gaze slid toward Maummi Switzer. “Both of you.”

  The older woman peered up at him through narrowed eyes. When her gaze shifted to Katie, the younger woman kept her expression calm and ignored the speculation she saw there.

  But Maummi Switzer’s attention was nothing compared to the penetrating stare of Fader Miller. Katie felt the hot fury of the man’s scrutiny all the way across the yard from where he stood near the door of the house. Even from this distance she could see anger in his rigid posture, in the hands fisted at his sides.

  Maummi Switzer had noticed as well.

  “Butch, do see you those boys yonder?” She pointed to a corner of the yard where a small cluster of children had gathered. “You will enter with them. Jesse, wait there for Jonas.” Her finger switched to a place not far away, near the entrance to the barn. “He will show you where to sit.”

  Jesse turned a confounded look on her. “You mean I can’t sit with you?” Though he did not add the words or look in her direction, Katie knew he wanted to say, “And Katie?”

  Maummi Switzer looked scandalized at the idea. “With the women? Neh! Go with Jonas, and mind you stay awake.”

  With a quick glance toward the bishop, she hooked an arm through Katie’s and marched into the midst of the group of women. As she was dragged away, Katie spared a backward glance. Jesse and Butch stood close to each other, staring after them with lost expressions. She flashed Jesse a quick smile before a half dozen black bonnets blocked him from view.