The Heart's Frontier

by Lori Copeland;Virginia Smith

  And for the alarming reason behind her foolish action.

  When the last steer had been hauled out of the river, Luke climbed the bank and collapsed beside his men lying on the grass. The work had been exhausting, and as he lay beside Jesse, his muscles protested. Judging by the sounds of the moans coming from the others, his weren’t the only ones.

  Jesse spoke without opening his eyes. “She’s staring at me.”

  Luke turned his head to eye his friend. “Who?”

  “The younger one. Been staring at me all afternoon. It’s starting to make me edgy.”

  A glance toward the Switzers’ wagon revealed Rebecca standing by the bench, her face turned their way. “How do you know she’s not staring at me?”

  “First of all, because I’m better lookin’ than you.” A weak chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Second of all, watch.”

  Jesse rolled onto his side and propped up on one arm to look the girl in the face. Startled, she swung around and became suddenly busy fiddling with something on the wagon bench. Her shoulders shook with a girlish giggle.

  “See? She’s spooking me.”

  “Since when did a girl’s attention spook you?”

  “Since the girl isn’t older than thirteen or fourteen. Add another five years and it would be a different story.” He drew in a sharp breath with a hiss when he rolled back around to face Luke. “I think I busted a gut on that dad gum wagon. Thing’s as heavy as a full-grown steer.”

  “That reminds me.” Luke sat up and rested his arms on his knees. “I haven’t thanked you for saving my hide back there.”

  “You’re welcome.” Wincing, Jesse rose to sit beside him. “So now I figure you owe me a steak dinner and a bottle of whiskey when we get to Hays.”

  He chuckled. “You know I won’t buy your whiskey, but I’ll buy you a bath and a shave. How’s that?”

  “That’s all your life’s worth? A bath and a shave?”

  “Nope. I’m worth a five-dollar steak, not one of those cheap things you’d try and force on me.” He grinned sideways. “But you need a bath. You’re starting to smell so bad you’re scaring the herd.”

  Jesse pointed at the river. “I had my bath, thank you. And washed my long johns at the same time.”

  Speaking of which, Luke would welcome some dry clothes. He climbed to his feet and scanned the sky. The storm had skirted around them to the north. He glanced toward the herd. From this vantage point he could see the chuck wagon in the distance on the far side. When the cattle had mired in the muck, he’d sent word to halt and let the herd graze. Kirk, Morris, and Vic kept guard while the rest had helped out with the rescue. Judging by the position of the sun, they only had a couple of hours of travel time left before they would need to find a good place to bed down for the night. He searched his memory of his last drive on the Chisholm Trail. As far as he could remember, there wasn’t another appropriate place within four hours of here. This would have to be it. What was a couple more hours when they had lost a full day?

  He spoke to the men lying in the grass around him. “We’ll graze the herd a little longer and then settle them here for the night.” Jesse drew breath for an accusation, but Luke held up a hand to stop him. “It’s my fault. You men did a good job today. Let’s get those cattle taken care of and then get some extra shut-eye ourselves. Tomorrow we’ll get an early start.”

  There was less grumbling than expected when the men rose and started gathering their belongings.

  “I hope the cook ain’t serving beans again tonight,” Charlie said to no one in particular. He winked. “Been noisy enough around here today.”

  Griff scooped his hat off the ground. “Some of those molasses cakes he whips up sure would go down good. Got an ache in my sweet tooth tonight.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Luke promised. “You fellows go on ahead. I’ll be along in a minute.”

  They mounted their horses, and when the rest headed in the direction of the herd, Jesse paused to look down at him. “She’s doing it again.”

  Luke glanced toward the Switzers’ wagon, where Rebecca stood openly staring in Jesse’s direction. When he looked her way, she giggled and turned away, more slowly this time.

  Jesse shook his head, disgusted. “Can’t say I’m sorry to see the last of those Aim-ish.” He kicked his horse into a start and galloped off.

  When he’d gone, Luke headed toward Jonas, who was inspecting the yoke still attached to his wagon. Mrs. Switzer was up in the back, sorting through a crate, while Rebecca stood watching Jesse ride away. He didn’t trust himself to look beyond the wagon, where Emma knelt in the grass beside the big trunk. Every time he remembered the sight of her running toward those cattle, spooking them into the river, anger heated the blood in his veins. No one had been harmed today, but wrestling a frightened steer mired in river muck had killed more than one cowhand in the past. She’d endangered the lives of his men and delayed his herd’s progress by several hours. No amount of sweet smiles could make up for that.

  “Everything look okay?” he asked Jonas when he approached.

  “Ja.” The man stood. “I can work around the missing pins. I feared for the bows, but thank the Lord they suffered no damage.”

  “That’s good.” He glanced toward the oxen grazing nearby. “They are going to make you a fine team. They pulled hard and steady today. Made the job of getting the cattle out of the river easier and quicker than trying to use horses. Thanks for lending us a hand.”

  A smile turned the corners of his shaved lips upward. “It is what friends do.”

  Friends. Yes, he could honestly say he had made an Amish friend in Jonas. “You’d better get a move on if you want to make good time tonight.”

  He shook his head. “Like you, we will stop here and start fresh tomorrow.”

  “You need me to give you a hand with anything?”

  “You have done much. Truly, you have been the Lord’s blessing to us. Our debt goes far beyond the money you have spent.”

  Luke smiled and cocked his hat. “Which you’ll pay back, right?”

  Solemn-faced, Jonas raised a hand, palm out. “You have my word.”

  That his word was good, Luke had no doubt. He extended his hand, and Jonas took it in his strong, calloused grip.

  “Good luck to you,” Luke said.

  “The Lord bless your journey,” Jonas responded.

  When he turned, Rebecca had fetched Bo and handed him the reins with a smile. “Thank you for the oxen and the candy and…everything. You will be in my prayers, Mr. Carson.”

  In the back of the wagon, old Mrs. Switzer rose to tower over him. Was that disapproving stare of hers slightly less stern than before? Probably only because she was about to see the last of him. She straightened and lifted her chin as though about to impart a particularly important piece of wisdom.

  “Danki.” That said, her lips snapped shut and she returned to her work.

  “You’re most welcome. God go with you, ma’am.” Chuckling, Luke started to climb up into the saddle. A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he paused with his boot in the stirrup. Emma approached, her head downcast, her hands folded in front of her apron.

  “I am sorry I almost drowned your cows.”

  Her voice was so low he had to bend down to catch the words. Something inside him stirred with compassion, but he squashed it. This girl could have cost the lives of a dozen cattle, not to mention his men.

  He kept his voice cool. “I accept your apology.”

  A moment’s hesitation, and then a nod. She started to turn away.

  Luke took his foot out of the stirrup. A wet slosh when he set it on the ground served as an unpleasant and unnecessary reminder of this afternoon’s near disaster. He stopped her with a question.

  “What were you doing, anyway? Screaming and running as though you were chasing hens in a chicken yard?”

  “I…” A blush stained the curved cheek half turned away from him. “I was worried abo
ut Maummi’s hutch.”

  For some reason her answer whipped up his anger the way wind whips up a bonfire. Why, when that was exactly the explanation he’d expected? He set his teeth together to keep from snapping a response and swung up into the saddle. When he was looking down at the top of her kapp, which was no longer blindingly white and sat cockeyed on her head, words ground out between his teeth.

  “Have a nice life, Miss Switzer.”

  With a kick from soggy boots, he urged Bo into a gallop toward the herd, glad to have his duty over.

  ELEVEN

  The gathering around the campfire ended early. McCann usually kept the men entertained with stories and singing, but tonight they were too tired to do much more than shovel fried beef, beans, and molasses cakes into their mouths.

  Those who had the first guard of the night retrieved their night horses from the remuda and rode off to stand watch over the sleeping herd. The others slipped away one by one to their bedrolls. Soon only Griff and Luke were left seated around the banked fire, while McCann banged around in the chuck wagon, lining up breakfast.

  A log collapsed in the fire pit, and sparks shot upward to disappear into the dark sky. The wood snapped and crackled as fresh flame engulfed it. From the direction of the river, a chorus of tree frogs serenaded sleeping men and cattle.

  “Sure was a full day in the saddle, eh?”

  “Wasn’t much of it spent in the saddle.” Luke winced at the note of self-recrimination in his voice.

  “Quit beating yourself up, son. Everything turned out okay. We did some folks a good turn and lost nothing but a few hours. We’ll make it up tomorrow.”

  The man was being kind. Luke appreciated it, but he refused to accept the grace offered. “We lost more than a few hours, Griff. We lost a whole day, thanks to me.” He picked up a piece of dry bark off the ground and tossed it into the fire. “A day we can’t afford to lose.”

  “We’ll get to Hays on time.” The firelight cast an orange glow over his creased features. “You got any idea what that little gal was running after?”

  A humorless laugh rumbled from Luke’s chest. “Yeah. That monster of a hutch. Like she could have done anything to stop that wagon from tipping over.”

  “Ain’t that the truth?” From the confidence in the man’s tone, it almost sounded as though Griff were goading him. “You’re sure that was her worry? To save that hutch?”

  “She told me so herself.”

  “Doesn’t matter what she told you.” He leaned back on one elbow and looked up at the night sky. “I know different.”

  His manner was one of a man who knew something and was purposefully holding it back. Luke got hold of his temper before he spoke again “What do you know, Griff? Or think you know?”

  “You heard her scream when that wagon started to tip?”

  “Yeah.” He remembered wondering who had screamed after he’d stepped back into the muck.

  “Well, you probably didn’t hear what she said after that as she was running to help. I did, because I was standing closer than anyone else, watching out in case Jonas needed a quick hand with those oxen.” Griff studied him with a sharp eye. “She was crying out your name.”

  Luke jerked upright. The man couldn’t have surprised him more if he’d slapped him awake with a wet towel to the face. “Mine?”

  “Yep. Like this.” Griff lifted a hand to flutter over his heart dramatically, and swept his eyes upward. He affected a high, feminine voice. “Luke! Oh, no. Luke!”

  Griff started to laugh, and a flush crept into Luke’s face at the ribbing. He picked up a green branch the width of his thumb and used it as a poker to stir the fire. The old man’s deep guffaws gave way to a cough, and the hacking doubled him over for a minute. When he caught his breath, he was still chuckling.

  “At least one of us finds your joke funny,” Luke said in a voice as dry as a Texas plain.

  “Oh, it’s funny, all right, but I’m not joking. That little slip of a girl was running to rescue you, calling out your name.”

  Disbelief stole over Luke. Emma was coming to his rescue? Not that she could have done a thing. And her help caused far more harm than good, but knowing why she acted as she did started a warm glow simmering in the pit of his belly.

  He turned around and strained through the darkness, looking over the sleeping herd. There, in the distance, a campfire flickered in the area where he’d left the Switzers and their wagon. The memory of Emma as he left her, her head downcast, wrenched something in his chest. He’d responded coldly to her apology. There’d been no cause for that. Especially when she’d only been trying to help.

  With a rattle and a grunt, McCann climbed down out of the chuck wagon. Luke turned back to see him bend over and pick up the metal dishpan by the handle. “I aim to give these dishes a good scrub in the river, and then I’m hitting the sack.”

  He crossed to the campfire and hooked the arm of his cook pot off the tripod with a towel.

  An idea formed in Luke’s mind. “What are you going to do with the rest of those beans?”

  “Throw them out, unless you boys want them.” He looked from Luke to Griff.

  “Not me.” Griff patted a rounded belly. “I ate my fill.”

  “Rather than throw them out, do you have a crock or a smaller pot I can put them in?” Luke cleared his throat and cast a warning glance at Griff to keep his silence. “Those folks back behind us might appreciate a sample from the best cook on the Chisholm Trail.”

  McCann looked at the pot in his hand and shrugged. “I got a couple of empty cans I can put them in.”

  He headed back to the chuck wagon. The axle creaked when he climbed up inside, while Luke carefully avoided eye contact with Griff.

  The old man rose to his feet and stood in front of Luke. “You and I have guard duty together in a couple of hours. You’ll be back by then, won’t you?”

  Luke cleared his throat. “Of course. I’m only going to drop in on them for a minute and check to make sure they don’t need anything.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  When Griff turned away and headed toward the front of the chuck wagon, Luke glimpsed a grin deepening the creases around the edges of his mouth.

  Emma sat beside the campfire and gritted her teeth against the tug of the comb through her hair. Maummi’s hand had never been gentle with this nightly task. When she was little, Mama used to comb her hair with such care that Emma hardly knew the task was being accomplished.

  Thoughts of Mama turned her mind to the lost quilt, and the sting of tears prickled her eyes.

  Stop it! There is no sense in being silly over a piece of fabric.

  She blinked hard and managed to banish the tears before they filled her eyes. It wasn’t only the quilt bothering her tonight. The blundering dash that caused the incident with the cows, followed by Luke’s chilly farewell, lay heavy on her heart. But what weighed her spirits down most was the underlying cause for her action. Hours before, she’d determined to stay true to her faith and her community and reject thoughts of the handsome Englisch man. But what happened when she saw that hutch tilting toward him in the water? An emotional wave unlike anything she’d ever felt washed over her, and her feet carried her toward him at a run.

  This doesn’t mean I care for him. I’d feel the same no matter who was in danger.

  Would she? Oh, how she hoped that were true.

  “There.” Maummi finished weaving her hair into a tight braid and tied off the end with a strip of leather.

  “Finished in good time,” Papa said from the other side of the fire. He stood and lifted the rocking chair he’d been working on. “Good thing you are light, Mader, else this might dump you on the ground. When we arrive home, I will do a proper repair.”

  “Home?” Rebecca, seated beside Papa, started to attention. “Not to Troyer?”

  Papa placed the chair on the hard-packed dirt near the fire. “The Lord has restored a portion of what the enemy took from us, and I am grateful. But He ha
s seen fit to put us in debt to an Englisch man.”

  Maummi quoted a proverb. “‘The debt that is paid is best.’”

  He smiled. “Ja. I cannot ask Bishop Miller to repay the large debt I owe Luke Carson. We must return home, so I can repay my own debt as soon as needs be.” He turned a tender smile Emma’s way. “It appears the Lord has granted me more time with my daughter.”

  Warmth flooded Emma at the love she saw in her papa’s face. Rarely did he display emotion, and even more rarely did he speak of it. Instead, he showed his love every day through hard work and dedication to his family’s well-being. Tonight, when her feelings were so near the surface, his unexpected words moved her nearly to tears.

  A satisfied grunt that was almost a purr came from low in Maummi’s throat, though the news that they weren’t going to Troyer hit Rebecca hard. Her mouth turned downward in a pout. “But I thought the Lord told you to send Emma to Troyer in the first place. Did He change His mind, then?”

  Emma held her breath, shocked at her sister’s question. Such disrespect as to question both the Lord and Papa in the same breath. Rebecca must be extremely disappointed in the decision to voice such a rebellious thought.

  Papa turned a thoughtful expression her way. “Would you have me question the reason for the Lord’s directives like Job of old?”

  The mild rebuke was as harsh as Papa ever gave, and Rebecca snapped her mouth shut. He stared at her a moment and then put a hand on the top of her bowed head. “The Lord’s reasons are unknowable, daughter, but we must trust that He has them.”

  When she nodded, Emma released the breath she’d been holding. Papa was right. Though returning home might look contradictory to the Lord’s initial direction, who knew but that He sent them on this disastrous journey in order to accomplish His unfathomable will? What that might be, involving the theft and destruction of their belongings, she could not imagine, unless it was to emphasize the truth of His sufficiency and their dependency on His daily provision for their needs.