Up ahead lay the Littlefield place. The moon bathed everything in a clear, white light. Jesse slowed Big Ed and scanned the area, searching for any sign of movement. Nothing. No light glowed inside the main house or the ranch house. Where was that boy?
He sat up straight, cupped his hands around his mouth, and gave a low whistle. For a second nothing happened. Then a horse rounded the southernmost barn. Rex. But Butch was not on his back. He trotted toward Jesse, tossing his head.
“Hey, boy.” Jesse slid off of Big Ed’s back and rubbed Rex’s neck. “Having a little nighttime adventure, are you? Where’s Butch?”
“Is this what you’re looking for?”
A harsh voice cut through the night. Jesse jerked upright, his gaze drawn to the man coming around the side of the ranch house. Woodard. And he wasn’t alone. Butch was beside him. The man had hold of the back of the boy’s shirt as they walked, and when they stopped fifty feet away, he gave a rough jerk. Jesse took a step forward, his hands clenching into fists.
“Let the boy go.” He spoke in a calm voice, but he infused a note of warning into his tone.
“I can’t do that.” Woodard turned his head and spit, a habit that had gone beyond irritating. “I caught him sneaking around the barn intent on mischief. I can’t let that go, can I?”
The door to the main house opened, and Littlefield exited. He carried a lamp, and a circle of light traveled with him when he stepped onto the porch. “What’s going on out here?” He held the lamp high, peering toward Jesse. “Who are you, and what are you doing, showing up at my house in the middle of the night?”
Jesse, who had been standing between Big Ed and Rex, stepped forward into full view. Recognition crept over Littlefield’s face.
“Mr. Montgomery. I heard there was a big fire over your way. I hope your friends are safe.” He chuckled.
Jesse returned his mock-pleasant smile with a grim stare. “I came for the boy.”
“Boy?” The surprise on Littlefield’s face was genuine. He glanced toward Woodard and caught sight of Butch for the first time.
“I caught him sneaking around, boss.” Woodard gave Butch a shove, still holding tight to his shirt. Butch nearly lost his footing. “He was carrying this.”
He lifted a lamp, and Jesse recognized it as being from the bedroom in Jonas’s house. “It’s full of oil, and he had a couple of matches in his pocket.”
Though he kept his expression tightly under control, inwardly Jesse groaned. Butch’s intentions were clear as could be. Littlefield had burned Jonas’s barn, and the boy had decided to strike back in kind.
Judging by the expression on Littlefield’s face, he’d come to the same conclusion. A smirk twisted his lips. “Well, now. That looks like more than a boyish prank to me. Looks like we stopped a serious case of vandalism before it happened.”
“Lucky you,” Jesse replied drily. “Some folks don’t catch it until it’s too late.”
His comment was met with no surprise. Butch looked utterly miserable, and he had yet to lift his gaze from the ground in front of his boots.
“I heard about my neighbor’s misfortune. What a relief that Mr. Woodard caught the culprit before he burned my barn down too.”
Butch flared up. “I didn’t set fire to Mr. Switzer’s barn! You did, you horse’s hiney!”
“Butch,” Jesse said quietly.
Littlefield ignored the outburst and continued to address Jesse. “Perhaps we should send for our good friend Sheriff Wiley. I’m sure he has space for a vandal in his jail, especially such a small one.”
Butch’s shoulders slumped further. After his prior conversation with the sheriff, Jesse had no doubt Wiley would do whatever his “good friend” Mr. Littlefield asked. But he’d also seemed like a decent guy. Given proof he couldn’t ignore, maybe Wiley would do the right thing.
He spoke as though the appeal of the idea just occurred to him. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll bet Wiley will be interested to know that the coward who shot me in the back has turned up here again.” He leveled a stare on Littlefield. “And no doubt he’ll want to know of the boy’s whereabouts last night. Butch snores like an old bull and kept me up half the night, so I can speak for his location. The sheriff might be more interested in why the boy felt the need to retaliate.”
The implication that Littlefield was responsible for burning down Jonas’s barn was clear. Jesse had the satisfaction of watching the man’s lips go tight. Though the night made it hard to see eye to eye, he did not look away from the man’s hard glare.
Finally, Littlefield spoke to Woodard. “Let him go.”
Clearly, Woodard didn’t like the idea. He drew himself up, ready for an argument. “But, boss, I caught him with—”
“I said let him go.” The harsh command left no room for argument.
Disgusted, Woodard released Butch with a shove. The boy caught his balance before he went sprawling, and he crossed the distance toward Jesse with his boots dragging and his head down. When he arrived, Jesse didn’t say a word but cupped his hands to heft Butch up onto Big Ed’s back.
He turned to find Littlefield glaring at him. “It took a lot of effort to put up that fence. My boys didn’t appreciate having all their hard work destroyed.”
Jesse glanced toward the fuming Woodard. “A shame they misjudged the boundary. All we did was correct their mistake.”
“Look here, Montgomery.” Littlefield’s voice was as hard as a rock. “I’ve filed a valid claim for my land.”
“I’m not buying that. Jonas’s claim is twenty years older than yours.”
“Perhaps you should investigate before you take a stand.”
Doubt nudged Jesse’s mind. He sounded so sure of himself. Was something out of place with Jonas’s claim? Or, more likely, had Littlefield bribed someone at the land management office into legitimizing a false claim?
Littlefield continued. “I have a thousand head of cattle coming from Texas next week. If that fence isn’t put back in its proper place by then, I’ll be forced to take action.”
“What would that be?” Jesse asked. “Are you going to burn down his house next?”
“Just deliver the message to your Amish friend. I want my fence back in place before my cattle arrive.”
With that, he turned and headed toward his house. Jesse started to call after him, to propose that he buy the land with the water access from Jonas, but couldn’t make himself do it. Now was not the time. Given the man’s rigid attitude, he’d laugh at a peaceful solution. Besides, his comment about having a valid claim needed to be checked out.
Woodard did not move even after his boss’s door slammed shut. Jesse ignored the man, and whistled for Rex. He looked up at the horse’s back which, though not as high as Big Ed’s, was still an intimidating distance with a weak arm and no stirrup. He’d sure hate to make a fool of himself trying to mount his own horse, especially in front of a weasel like Woodard.
“All right, boy.” He spoke in Rex’s ear as he grabbed a handful of mane. “Just hold still.”
With a couple of steps for momentum, he leaped off the ground and swung his leg up over Rex’s back, at the same time grabbing the ridge of his neck with his right hand. Though his shoulder complained, he was pleased when he slid smoothly onto Rex’s back. He was definitely getting stronger. Using his knees to guide Rex, he edged close enough to Big Ed to grab the lead rope he’d been using as makeshift reins and took off.
When they had ridden out of sight of the ranch house, he stopped and turned sideways to look Butch in the eye. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”
Butch kept his gaze fixed on the ground, but the moonlight was bright enough that Jesse saw the sullen droop to his mouth. He remained silent.
“Hey, look at me when I talk to you.” Anger crept into his voice. “What were you doing, sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night and going up there? You could have been killed.”
His head snapped up. “I’m not afraid.”
The vehemence in his voice took Jesse by surprise. “I didn’t say you were afraid.”
“Well, everybody else seems to be. All those men last night saying how it’s a shame about the barn, and that bishop telling Jonas he has to move.” He shook his head. “None of them are going to stand up to Littlefield.”
Jesse cocked his head. “You think they’re not doing anything because they’re afraid?”
“Well, aren’t they?”
An image rose in Jesse’s mind. Jonas’s face, his struggle with anger obvious. And a couple of weeks ago, when he’d refused to talk to Littlefield, it had been because he was too angry. And last night, he’d seen the Amish men who came to help their friend, their expressions a blend of compassion and concern, not fear. Even Bishop Miller, whose anger had burned as fiercely as the barn, had displayed no fear.
“They’re not afraid, son.” He shook his head, surprised at the realization. “There isn’t a coward in all of Apple Grove, at least not that I’ve seen. It takes more courage to control your anger than to lash out at somebody who’s treating you unfairly. And a lot of strength.”
“But they’re going to let him get away with stealing.” Butch jerked his head back toward Littlefield’s house. “That’s wrong.”
“Stealing’s wrong,” Jesse agreed. “And so’s burning someone’s barn.” He dipped his head and leveled a direct stare on the boy. “No matter what the reason.”
Butch’s gaze dropped away. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“Look at it like this. On the one side, you have Littlefield.” Jesse held his hands out, palms up. “And on the other side, you have Jonas.” He moved them up and down as though comparing the weight of one with the other. “Who would you rather be like?”
The boy’s expression grew thoughtful as he looked from hand to hand. Then he lifted his eyes to Jesse’s face. “I’d rather be like you.”
The words cut right through Jesse’s heart. And what was that gleaming in the young eyes fixed on his face? Admiration?
Lord, that’s just plain wrong. He’s a good boy. Don’t let him turn out like me.
He spoke softly. “I’d rather be like Jonas.”
Understanding passed between them, and though the reverence didn’t dim from Butch’s eyes, they both came away smiling.
“We’d better get on back.” Jesse turned Rex toward the Switzer place. “The whole house was up when I left, and they’re likely worried about us. You also have a disagreeable task in front of you.”
Butch started. “What’s that?”
Jesse awarded him a grimace. “You get to tell Maummi Switzer why she’s missing a lamp from one of the bedrooms.”
The boy groaned. With a laugh, Jesse tightened his legs and nudged Rex forward.
Katie awoke shortly after dawn, alerted by an inner nudge that her patient needed her. She jumped up from the chair and went to the bedside. Sarah stirred, her eyes shut tight but her lips moving in an alarmingly pale face.
“My baby.”
The quiet voice woke Maummi Switzer, who had finally dropped off to sleep sometime after Katie. She leaped out of her chair and hurried across the floor to stand at the other side of the bed.
“She is here.” Katie touched Sarah’s arm, where they had laid the swaddled infant in hopes that the contact would give her strength.
Sarah’s eyelids fluttered open. Surprised, she looked at the bundle in her arms, and then a beautiful smile curved her lips. “You said she. I have a girl. I thought I dreamed her.”
“Not a dream.” Maummi Switzer answered in a soft voice. “She is beautiful, though very tiny.”
“Where is Amos?” Sarah’s voice was barely audible.
“He is outside, helping Jonas milk his cows. I promised to call him if you woke.” Katie picked up a cup from the bedside table. “But first drink this. It will make you stronger.”
Did Sarah look slightly better this morning? Was there a touch of color in her pale cheeks that had not been there all night? It was hard to tell in the dim light of dawn. She curved her patient’s unsteady fingers around the cup and motioned for the older woman to help Sarah lift it to her mouth. Whispering a prayer, she moved to the foot of the bed. Many times during the night she had replaced the cloths with which she had packed the womb, alarmed at the amount of blood that still continued to saturate them. It had been as though Sarah’s life was draining away before her very eyes and she could do nothing to stop it.
A wave of relief wilted her tense muscles when she removed the packing. Sometime in the past few hours, the bleeding had stopped. She looked up into Maummi Switzer’s anxious face and smiled. Though still very weak, perhaps Sarah would recover after all.
Thank You, Lord.
Sarah finished the tea and released the cup to Maummi. Jostled by her mother’s movement, the baby squirmed inside the bundle and let out a weak cry that quickly gained in strength.
“What’s wrong with her?” The anxious mother’s frantic gaze flew to Katie’s face.
“She is hungry,” Katie answered. They had planned to send for Patricia Stolzfus, whose youngest was not yet weaned, first thing this morning. Perhaps now they would not need to.
Sarah turned a panicky look on the tiny babe. “I’ve never fed a baby before. I don’t know what to do.”
Maummi Switzer chuckled. “She knows.”
While the elderly woman helped the young mother with her first nursing session, Katie slipped through the door to inform Amos that his wife was awake. When she stepped onto the porch, she found Jesse getting ready to jump up on the back of his horse. He searched her face.
“Is she…” From the dread in his tone, he feared the worst.
Katie answered with a relieved smile. “She is better.”
“Thank the Lord” He glanced past the pile of ash and charred wood, where both Jonas and Amos were at work milking. “That’s great news.”
“You are going somewhere?”
He nodded. “I’ve got some business to take care of in Hays City.” He stepped closer to her. “Actually, I feel we have some unfinished business to take care of between us.”
Alarms sounded in Katie’s mind, and she averted her eyes. “There is nothing left unsaid.”
“I think there is.”
He took a step toward her, and though she told herself she should move away, her feet appeared to be stuck fast to the ground.
“I want to apologize for my earlier words. I know it’s a little soon, and you weren’t expecting them. I wasn’t expecting them either, but there they were and I suppose I’m standing by them.”
“You suppose?”
His gaze met hers. “I’m standing by them. I can’t imagine how hard it was for you when your husband died. I’m sure you loved him…fiercely.” His voice dropped into a soft tone. “But a woman can love more than one person, can’t she?”
He was so close the masculine scent of him invaded her senses, and his voice was like a purr in her ears. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself being swept into his arms.
“I…” Her throat held no moisture to give her voice strength. “I cannot.”
“Don’t see why not. Maybe not now, this day, but later, when things settle down a bit. I’ll be going back to Luke’s place. Figure I’ll build a house nearby, raise a few head of cattle, and plant some crops. Life’s not much different over there than it is here. You’d have Rebecca and Emma to keep you company.” His pleading tone battered at her determination. “You care about me, Katie, and I figure if I stick around long enough that feeling will grow. If I became Amish—”
The sound of the new baby’s cry echoed in her ears and gave strength to her resolve. Jesse deserved better than her. He deserved a wife who could help him build a home, and give him a family.
She stepped away and steeled herself before raising her eyes to look into his. “No. I told you last night. I will never marry again.”
Turning quickly before he could stop h
er, she hurried away to tell Amos he could go to his wife’s side.
SIXTEEN
The open prairie surrounded him as Jesse’s gaze roved the landscape. This is where he felt most at home, alone with Rex and a couple of prairie dogs scurrying for cover. During his years on the cattle trail, he’d learned to find comfort in the solitude of being in the saddle for hours on end.
Today he had no saddle, thanks to Littlefield and his boys. He shifted his weight on Rex’s back. After he visited the land management office in Hays City, he intended to find a tack shop and see how much he’d have to come up with for a saddle. He felt for the double eagle in his pocket. For twenty dollars he might be able to find a decent used one.
His thoughts turned to Jonas. The man seemed to draw the same kind of peace from working the land that Jesse used to find from the hours on the trail. How else could he handle the pressure? If only Jesse could find satisfaction from plowing a straight furrow.
Actually, when he’d worked alongside Luke, he did feel the gratification of watching something he’d planted with his own hands grow. That feeling must be even stronger when a man looked out over his own field.
Butch, now, he might one day make a good farmer. He had a way with animals, all kinds of them. Probably came from being quiet and mild mannered, like Jonas. That was as far from Jesse’s nature as a kitten from a cougar. And yet…
He shifted again. Jonas wasn’t really mild mannered. Over the last few weeks Jesse had watched him closely. What he’d told Butch last night was true. It took a lot more strength of character to control a fiery temper than to give it rein. More than Jesse possessed.
Katie’s husband probably had that strength. No wonder she won’t settle for somebody like me.
He didn’t believe for a minute that she would never marry again. A woman like her had too much to give to be alone. Someday a man would come along who would stir the passion he sensed hovering behind that lovely and oh-so-calm facade. He’d have to be Amish, of course. After spending the last few weeks with the people of Apple Grove, the idea of becoming Amish wasn’t nearly as far-fetched as he’d once thought. But it would never happen in Apple Grove, not with Bishop Miller calling the shots. He could not force himself to give that man control over him the way Jonas did. He’d lived too rowdy a life to ever agree to rules that made no sense.
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