Taken for English

by Olivia Newport

  “So he got off this morning to the new job?”

  Rufus drew in a deep breath. “He was eager to go. Mamm was not so enthusiastic.”

  “My heart tells me Joel is going to be all right.” Annie dared to take her eyes off the road for a quick glance at Rufus. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me where we are going?”

  Rufus smiled. “Just a few more minutes.”

  He gave directions one turn at a time until Annie took the buggy onto a narrow stretch that was hardly more than a horse path. When even the path petered out, Rufus asked Annie to take the buggy across open meadow.

  “Stop here,” Rufus said finally.

  Annie pulled on the reins, and Dolly slowed to a stop. “Where are we?”

  Rufus scooted closer to her on the bench and put an arm around her shoulders. With the other he pointed.

  “On that little ridge is where I picture the house—facing the mountains, of course. My workshop would be in back, but not so far from the house that I could not hear you call.”

  Annie sucked in a gale of air. “This is your land?”

  He nodded.

  Her eyes widened. The Sangre de Cristos beamed down from their snowcaps. The meadow, a mystery only a moment ago, sprang to life around her. She breathed in the scent of horses to come and listened to the cackling hens she would feed with their children.

  He was taking such care to arrange the perfect moment.

  “We’d need a barn, of course,” he said. “We’ll want to keep a cow and chickens.”

  Annie felt a grin creeping up from her toes. This would be a proposal story they could someday tell their grandchildren.

  Ruth systematically—but slowly—pushed a cart up and down every aisle in the grocery store and then started again.

  She knew Alan was working. He was not up front bagging, though, so he must be in the storeroom, and it was only a matter of time before he would emerge. Most of the stocking happened in the early hours while Westcliffe’s population still slumbered in confidence they could buy fifty kinds of breakfast cereal or seven brands of dog food later in the day. But Ruth had been in the store at the start of the business day enough to know that some tasks remained for stockers to finish up even after carts roamed the aisles.

  And Alan was one of those stockers.

  Ruth put a box of tissues in her cart and moved to the frozen foods aisle to ponder the vegetables. Eventually she chose a bag of cauliflower and proceeded to the dairy aisle.

  Alan was maneuvering a pallet heaped with yogurts to one side of the aisle.

  “Hello, Alan.” Ruth greeted him with warm eyes.

  “Hi, Ruth.” Alan leaned one elbow on a stack of boxes and put one hand in the pocket of his blue store apron. “I was afraid you wouldn’t speak to me again. You didn’t seem pleased to see me the other day.”

  She waved a hand. “I know you meant well.”

  Alan pulled a box cutter out of the apron and sliced into a carton of yogurts. “I guess we’re all a little jittery about the fires.”

  “Yes, that’s it.” She reached for a container of sour cream from beside Alan’s pallet. “Are you working all day?”

  “I’m off around one o’clock.”

  “That’s nice. You can still enjoy the afternoon.” Ruth reached in the other direction and picked up a tub of cottage cheese. “I’m off at two today myself, but I think I’ll go to the library. It would be nice to read something other than a textbook.”

  “I know what you mean.” Alan swiftly stacked single-serving yogurt containers on the shelf and sliced open another box. “It’s a little strange to be out of school and actually have a choice about what to read.”

  “That’s what I mean!” Ruth chewed one corner of her mouth, mentally repeating cautions to remain casual. “Why don’t you meet me at the library? I know it’s small, but we might find something to recommend to each other.”

  Alan eyed her and transferred another batch of yogurt to the shelf. “Yeah. That’s a good idea. I’ll be there.”

  Her face beamed, and Rufus allowed himself a moment to bask in it. Perhaps her joy would give him the courage to hang on to the land and the future he imagined would come to be. Their children would learn to gather eggs without disturbing the hens, and Rufus would till Annalise a vegetable garden. He would come in from the workshop at lunchtime and ask how her morning had gone. For decades, they would take their morning coffee out to the front porch and stare at the Sangre de Cristos as they murmured prayers for the day.

  “It’s perfect, Rufus.” Annalise sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

  He opened his palm to her, and she laid her hand in it. Small, slender, feminine.

  “You never even gave a hint you were buying land,” Annalise said.

  “I did it the summer before you came. I had some savings, and the price was right.”

  He knew the words she wanted to hear, and he ached to speak them.

  The sound of a car engine wedged into his reverie.

  Annalise turned her head, puzzled. “Who would that be?”

  Rufus’s suspicion sank his stomach. The car rumbled toward them and slowed to a stop.

  “Rufus.” Annalise sat up straight. “The side of that car has a Realtor’s logo on it.”

  “Yes, I see.”

  The car stopped, and a man emerged from the driver’s door while a man and a woman got out of the passenger side. The driver raised a hand to wave.

  “Do you know them?” Annalise asked.

  “I know Larry,” Rufus said. “The driver.”

  “A Realtor.”

  “Yes.”

  The stone in Rufus’s gut hardened another layer.

  “But this is your land,” Annalise said. “You just told me you bought it more than two years ago.”

  “Hello, Rufus,” Larry called. “I didn’t know you’d be out here.”

  If Rufus had known Larry would be coming, he certainly would not have brought Annalise out here.

  “I’ve got some people interested in your land.” Hands in his pockets, Larry moved toward the buggy. “The people from Denver. I told you about them.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  Larry was close enough now that an introduction was mandatory.

  “This is Annalise Friesen,” Rufus said. My fiancée, he wanted to say. But he had not gotten that far when he had his opportunity.

  “Glad to meet you.” Larry extended a cheerful hand, which Annalise accepted. “Rufus has a great piece of land here.”

  “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

  Rufus saw how hard she was working to cloak her bewilderment in hospitality. He swallowed and descended from the bench.

  “Did I misunderstand you when we last spoke?” Rufus said.

  “Oh, no, I realize you haven’t made a decision.” Larry gestured to the couple, who stood and gazed across the meadow. “And neither have they. But they came all the way from Denver. It seemed like a serendipitous opportunity to let them see what they could get if they decided to buy out this way.”

  “I see.” Rufus glanced up at Annalise, who had shifted in the bench to look at the visiting couple.

  Husband and wife stood with their arms linked now, pointing and gesturing.

  And smiling.

  Rufus stifled the urge to exhale his disappointment.

  Forty

  June 1892

  They can’t have gotten too far.” Maura trotted her horse beside Joseph’s as they left the livery and headed down Main Street.

  “It might be wise to pause long enough for you to draw me a map of how they might cross the state line,” Joseph said.

  “Why? I’ll be with you.” Eyes forward, Maura braced for his refusal.

  “This could be dangerous, Maura.”

  “I asked for your help, Joseph. I did not ask you to bear the entire load.”

  “And if we don’t find them in time? Or Leon won’t listen to reason?”

  “Then at least we will h
ave tried. I want to give that much to Belle.” Maura hastened the pace of her horse. “Leon has to see that the price of his choice may be his daughter.”

  “Right now he does not see past his anger.”

  “I was on the Twigg land in Missouri once, perhaps ten or twelve years ago. My parents used to be quite friendly with Old Man Twigg.”

  “Then I hope God has blessed you with a good memory.”

  “We will have no trouble asking where their property is once we start to follow the north fork of the river.”

  Maura kneed her horse and galloped ahead of Joseph before he could suggest again that she remain behind.

  “We’re close.” Joseph reined in his horse and pointed to the hoofprints in the soggy ground. “Four horses, all well shoed. And not too long ago.”

  The winding, marshy, sometimes disappearing shoreline had made tracking the vigilantes difficult. More than once Joseph had been tempted to admit to Maura he had lost the trail. Thick woods on both sides of the White River’s north fork could disguise a host of men.

  Maura had not flagged, even at the hottest part of the day. Three times Joseph passed his water jug to her and insisted she drink deeply. Twice they stopped to refill the container from natural springs that began to appear with frequency. Once, he stopped to gather pine nuts and wild berries, but she wanted none of it. She cared nothing for food as long as Leon Mooney remained beyond their sight.

  Finally, Joseph spied him through the trees. Joseph slid off his horse and handed the reins to Maura.

  “What are you going to do?” Maura whispered.

  “I’m not sure. I don’t want startle him into shooting.”

  “Be careful!”

  Joseph took a deep breath and guarded his steps through the woods. He made enough noise to be noticed but not enough to sound threatening. Mooney was alone for the moment, though the others could not be far off. Joseph continued forward, even as he realized Leon was peering into the woods, suspicious. Joseph held his empty hands up to view as he approached a man whose rifle was within reach.

  “What are you doing here?” Mooney barked.

  “I came to find you.” Joseph paced ahead, controlled, patient. “Belle is concerned.”

  “Belle is blind to the truth.” Mooney made no move for his gun.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you have in mind?” Joseph lowered himself to the ground beside Leon.

  “Justice, that’s all.” Leon reached into a leather bag and pulled out a strip of beef jerky.

  Joseph’s stomach grumbled. “Our Lord asks us to forgive, Mr. Mooney.”

  Leon grunted. “I prefer to think I am an instrument of divine justice.”

  “How can any of us be sure of that?” Joseph kept his voice low.

  “An eye for an eye. A Twigg for a Byler. That’s the way I see it.”

  Joseph filled his lungs, exhaled slowly, and swallowed. “And if the response is a Mooney for a Twigg? Will that be justice? Will that bring peace?”

  Mooney scoffed. “Peace. We won’t have peace in Gassville as long as Old Man Twigg lives.”

  Joseph gestured up the river. “But he moved out of town. Is that not a sign that he is ready for peace?”

  “It’s a sign that he’s scared, that’s all. And he should be.” Now Mooney picked up his rifle and tossed it from one hand to the other.

  Joseph straightened his hat with both hands as he looked over his shoulder at the sound behind him. The three Gassville citizens who had followed Mooney across the state line stood with a hearty catch of crawfish.

  “Looks like we’ll have two more for supper,” Mooney said. “You can come out, Maura. I know you’re there.”

  Maura picked at the boiled crawfish served to her in a tin plate. It was her first food all day, and she knew she ought to try to eat it if for no other reason than to accept Leon Mooney’s gruff hospitality, but the vice in her stomach made her hesitant to swallow anything.

  Joseph ate slowly, she observed, but he consumed both fish and bread. He lifted his water jug and leaned toward her. “Come with me to get fresh water.”

  Maura set her plate aside as casually as she could manage and followed Joseph deeper into the woods. He knelt at a gurgling spring and dipped the jar’s open mouth.

  “These springs are all over,” he said. “Mooney has his eye on one he thinks the Twiggs will use in the morning.”

  “How can he be sure?” Maura glanced around the woods as she knelt next to Joseph.

  “It’s farther upriver, at the edge of Twigg’s land. They’ve already been up there and seen where they water the horses.”

  “I’m sorry, Joseph.” Maura pinched her eyes between thumb and fingers. “I dragged you up here for nothing.”

  “You have a heart for peace, Maura. That’s all you want.”

  “I understand that disputes will happen.” Maura sank onto a boulder. “I can even accept war for a righteous cause. But this? I do not understand this burning vengeance.”

  Her pulse coursed harder when he took her hand in both of his, but she did not withdraw it. She looked into his violet-blue eyes, shimmering in the moonlight, as he gently stroked her palm.

  “The question now,” Joseph said, “is if you would like to stay the night or leave.”

  Maura glanced back at the four men eating fish around a dying fire. “What is it like where you live?”

  He shrugged. “Not so different from here. Rivers. Woods. The handiwork of God.”

  “I mean your people,” she said. “Your family, your church.” Hannah, she wanted to say.

  “We are people of submission.” He held her hand still now. “The good of the family and the community are our greatest concern.”

  “I always thought Gassville was my community. But it’s just a place.”

  He squeezed her hand. “We face our own decision now. Shall we go or stay?”

  Pressure squeezed her chest as he released her hand. Joseph Beiler was like no other man she had known.

  “Have we tried everything?” she said. “Is there no hope?”

  “I like to believe there is always hope,” Joseph said, “but we submit to God’s sovereign will, even in this.”

  Joseph put the stopper in his jug and stood.

  “If we cannot avert what Leon Mooney has fixed in his heart,” Maura said, “we may be of aid when someone is hurt.”

  Joseph nodded. “We will stay, then. I only wish I had a bedroll to offer you.”

  “I will not sleep a wink anyway.” Maura pointed to a wide tree. “If you talk to me, perhaps I will not say something foolish to Leon Mooney.”

  “Then I will be happy to talk to you.”

  Joseph took the blankets from under their saddles and spread them on the ground at the base of the tree Maura selected. They settled in shoulder to shoulder. Mooney and his men grew quiet, though none slept as far as Maura could see.

  “Joseph,” Maura said quietly, “will you be in a great deal of trouble for not going home with Zeke?”

  He nodded slowly. “Some. My parents will be disappointed, and the bishop will give me a stern speech when I see him.”

  “And Hannah?” Maura could hardly believe the question escaped her lips.

  “Hannah.” Joseph took Maura’s hand again. “Hannah is a sensible choice. She is eager to marry and would be eager to please her husband. Everyone believed the bishop selected me for this journey because I am sensible as well. But it turns out I am not so sensible after all.”

  “Because…”

  “Because of you, Miss Woodley. When I left I was not sure Hannah Berkey was God’s will for me. Now I am certain she is not.”

  Maura’s breath caught as she stared into the darkness. “What are you saying, Joseph?”

  “You have raised many questions in my heart.”

  Leon Mooney moved in stealth toward them. Maura stared up at him. Joseph stood.

  “I want you two to promise me you will stay out of the way,” Mooney said. “There’
s no reason to see you hurt.”

  “Why does anyone have to be hurt?” Maura said. “Let’s go home, Leon. Home to Belle. She must be frantic with worry.”

  “She won’t have to worry much longer. It will all be settled at daybreak.”

  Under cover of darkness Leon Mooney moved his entourage upriver.

  Before daybreak, four men found protection behind trees at the base of a hill and carefully calculated their clearest shots.

  Joseph whispered to Maura that they should stay back. But she saddled her horse and followed Mooney, and Joseph did not want to let her out of his sight.

  As a pink dawn broke over the north fork of the White River, Old Man Twigg and his son Jimmy led their horses down the hill to the spring, just as Mooney had anticipated they would.

  Joseph opened his arms and enfolded Maura when the rapid spray of bullets began. She put her hands over her ears and her face against his chest. Joseph watched everything.

  Old Man Twigg never even had a chance to lift the rifle he carried. He fell dead with the first firing. Joseph pushed Maura to the ground and covered her as Jimmy fired back, although Joseph doubted he could see any target. In only a few more seconds, Jimmy dropped with wounds to his leg and shoulder.

  Maura pushed Joseph off and sat up, weeping.

  Forty-One

  Rufus took the reins. Annalise offered no resistance. He clicked his tongue, and Dolly answered with forward movement directly across the meadow. Rather than turning onto the road that would take them back to the highway, though, Rufus crossed into the old mining property and halted the horse once again on open land.

  “I want you to know this is not how I planned the morning.” He let go of the reins and turned on the bench to face Annalise.

  “What happened back there, Rufus?” Annalise’s gray eyes were wide, and the day’s light swam through them.

  “When I was working in Cañon City,” he said, “I found Larry’s office. I wanted to ask some questions.”

  “About selling your land?”