by Jan Drexler
The firelight showed his grin as he greeted Jacob. “I thought we’d want to be cozy tonight. It has gotten chilly since the sun went down.”
Jacob didn’t answer, but spread his blanket on the other side of the fire from Andrew. The bright light from the flames would make it impossible to see into the darkness around the horses.
Andrew plopped onto his blanket, kicking his feet out as he leaned back on his elbows. “Now this is the life.”
Jacob gave up on trying to see into the woods. He would have to rely on the horses to alert them to any danger. “What do you mean?”
“Out here, away from parents and responsibilities. Nobody telling us what to do.”
Jacob put another small stick on the fire. As long as it was burning, he might as well keep it fed. “That doesn’t bother me. When Daed gives me work to do, it’s the best way to learn. When I buy my farm in Indiana, I want to know everything about how to take care of it.”
Andrew pulled at a stem of grass and stuck it in his mouth. “It doesn’t bother you that you still have to take orders from him?”
“It never has.” Jacob shrugged. “I guess I never thought about it much.”
The other man sat up. “Have you joined church yet?”
“Of course I did, when I was eighteen.” Jacob calculated Andrew’s age. At twenty-four, Andrew should have been baptized and joined church long ago. “You have, haven’t you?”
“Not yet.”
“What are you waiting for?”
Andrew’s teeth gleamed in the firelight as he grinned. “I like to have my fun. There will be time enough to make my pledge to the church when I’m ready to get married and settle down.”
Jacob stared into the flames. “Do you have anyone in mind? I mean, when you’re ready to get married.”
“That Jo is a lot of fun, and pretty too.” Andrew sat up and hooked his elbows around his knees. “But Mattie has always been my favorite. With a girl like her, a man would never be bored.”
Cole Bates crouched behind a tree, watching Mattie as she walked up the trail to the Amish camp. He wasn’t mistaken. She was interested. He had first seen it when the Amish movers passed through Somerset the other day, and then again tonight, at the campfire when the old man turned them away. The old grouch. But Mattie couldn’t keep her eyes off him.
“Cole.” Hiram’s whispered call echoed through the underbrush.
“Hush, you.”
Cole rose from his position and waited until Mattie’s form disappeared into the darkness. He turned to find Hiram and Darrell close behind him. Too close. Darrell fidgeted with his suspender while Hiram waited for his orders, his bulky body a darker form in the shadows under the trees.
“Let’s get back to the road. We’ll wait until things are quiet before we make our move.”
He followed the game trail the short distance to the road where they had left their horses in Darrell’s care. But like usual, Darrell couldn’t stick to the task. He had to follow behind, getting in the way. Both those boys were as stupid as their cow of a mother had been. Why Pa had ever married up with her, Cole would never know. But then she had died after one of Pa’s binges, and they had been stuck with her whelps.
Or at least he had been stuck with them. Pa had told him that day that he was to take care of Hiram and Darrell because they were his brothers.
Less than brothers, but still, they came in handy. Sometimes he needed an extra pair of eyes or someone who would take orders without a fight. And at least Hiram would do what he was told, so far. Darrell was as dumb as a post, and whiny to boot. Someone would just up and shoot the fool one day. He might even do that himself.
But until then, they had a job to do. Pa wanted horses or money, or both. And there would be no excuses. Cole had to bring what Pa wanted, or he couldn’t go back. And he wanted to go back. That farm in Missouri wasn’t much, but it would be his one day. Pa couldn’t live forever.
“Why were you talking to that girl?” Darrell wiped his sleeve across his nose.
“Shut up, Darrell. It’s none of your business.”
Darrell grinned. “You sweet on her, Cole? Huh? You gonna kiss her?”
Cole mounted his horse, a fine bay gelding he had found on a farm in Virginia. The two others they had stolen that night had brought in some good money. He fingered the bag of coins inside his vest. Not enough though. He needed to get his hands on the horses the Amish had with them. Most of them were pure-blooded Conestoga, and the outfitters at the trailhead in Independence would pay top dollar for them.
Darrell and Hiram trailed behind him as he rode across the stream, and then back into the woods, following a deer trail he had found before it had gone clear dark.
Twenty-six horses would bring enough cash that there’d be no reason to take the money back to Pa. He might just get rid of Hiram and Darrell, too, and head out west on one of those trails. Oregon might be a good place for a smart operator like him. There was no telling what kind of deals he could wrangle.
But would even Oregon be far enough away from Pa once he discovered Cole’s betrayal? He licked his dry lips. He’d have to think on it further.
When the deer trail reached the stream, Cole stopped and dismounted. The moon rode high in the sky, only a few days past the full. They’d wait until it drifted below the hills to the west before making their move. But once they got the horses moving, those Amish would never catch them.
“What are we doing, Cole?” Darrell’s whine cut through the gurgle of the stream. “We gonna get a horse off of them Amish?”
“If you hadn’t been so blamed quick to try to take one the last time, we’d have the whole string by now.” Cole kicked at Darrell, who jumped sideways with his practiced step. “I told you to wait, but you had to try to sneak one out before the Amish fools were asleep.” He snatched the front of Darrell’s coat before the boy could react. “From now on, we do it my way. You hear?”
Darrell hung his head, avoiding Cole’s stare.
“We’ll do whatever you say, Cole.” Hiram loomed at his elbow. “We know you want to make Pa proud.”
Cole turned on him, shoving Darrell away. “He isn’t your pa. How many times do I need to remind you? He’s my pa. Not yours.” He walked a couple steps away from both of them. “I can guess what kind of man your pa was.”
“Don’t start that again, Cole.” Hiram’s voice held a menace Cole hadn’t heard before. “I know he’s your pa, but he’s all Darrell remembers. Let him share, like Ma said.”
“Shut up, will you? Just shut up.”
Cole aimed a wad of tobacco juice at their feet and moved toward the stream. He couldn’t see the camp from here, but he could hear voices drift down the slope toward the bottom of the glade. He fished in his vest pocket for another chaw. The tobacco would help pass the time. Once the moon was gone and it was full dark, he’d make his move.
Jacob looked up at the moon, trying to guess the time. Not too long after midnight, if it was even that late. He still had a long night ahead of him.
He hadn’t said anything after Andrew had told him about his feelings for Mattie and the conversation had drifted in another direction. For sure, she was the one he would choose to marry. The other two girls were fine enough, but Mattie . . . she had always been special. And Andrew would keep her laughing through their lives together. She might even be happy with him.
Jacob watched Andrew through the dying flames of the fire. The bed of coals gave off little light, but he could make out the other man’s outline as he lay wrapped in his blanket. Jacob rubbed his fingers into his eyes, trying to soothe the sting from the wisps of smoke that blew his way.
That Andrew. He couldn’t help it, the man was too likable to be mad at. The jokes he told as the fire burned low kept Jacob laughing until he had forgotten all about horse thieves and girls. He was becoming a good friend. Jacob laid another log on the fire, a dry, solid piece of oak that would burn slow. Just like the resentment that would build in his heart if
he had to stand by and watch Andrew court and marry his Mattie.
His head dropped to his knees. His Mattie. For sure, she had been his, ever since he had first taught her to bait a fishing hook. She was his, and he wasn’t about to lose her to Andrew. He let his eyes close, seeing Mattie’s face in his mind. Strong, capable, good-natured. The little wren of a girl with brown hair caught up under her kapp. His mind drifted to a day on the banks of the Conestoga. Mattie’s brothers teasing her, wanting her to bait her own fishing hook, and the grateful look she gave Jacob when he offered to do it for her . . .
A horse grunted and stamped its foot. Jacob woke up, lying on his blanket, curled up against the cold. The fire had gone out, and the moon . . . the moon had set behind the western mountains. The horse grunted again from the far side of the rope circle, and the horses nearer to Jacob shifted uneasily. Their pricked ears were silhouetted against the stars. Something had gotten their attention.
He crawled around the fire to where Andrew lay in his blankets, snoring lightly. Jacob jiggled his shoulder.
“Andrew.”
“What—”
“Shh. Something is spooking the horses.”
Andrew sat up and looked toward the corral. Every horse around the circle was alert, looking toward the opposite side.
“A wolf?” He scratched his head, then pulled on his hat. “Or a puma?”
“Or a horse thief.” Jacob’s jaw clenched. The Bates brothers? He had to find out. “I’m going to circle around the left, you go to the right. We have to protect the horses.”
Andrew stood, pulling Jacob up with him. “We should stick together. Whatever it is, it might be dangerous for one of us to face it alone.”
“All right, let’s go.”
Jacob led the way around the circle, careful to move quietly, but neither he nor Andrew were accustomed to sneaking through the woods. Last year’s leaves rustled, and every few steps a stick cracked under a boot. When they reached the far side of the circle, the horses there were on the alert, looking into the forest, but they weren’t panicked. Jacob’s skin prickled. He could see nothing in the dark underbrush, but he trusted the horses’ senses.
Andrew caught up to him, breathing heavily. He bent over, his hands on his knees. “You didn’t have to run so fast.”
“Shh. There’s something out there.”
A faint rustling from bushes twenty feet away sent Jacob’s heart pounding. The rustling turned to shaking. A whiny voice swore, followed by a deeper, “Shut up.” The noise retreated. After a few minutes, one of the horses nudged Jacob from behind. All was quiet and the horses were relaxed. The stars through the treetops above them were growing faint in the waning night.
“They’re gone.”
He could see Andrew’s profile in the dusk.
“It was Cole Bates, wasn’t it?”
“And at least one of his brothers.”
“What can we do? Watch the horses every night?”
Jacob rubbed at the back of his neck. He was stiff from his night in the damp chill, and today they would reach the crest of the mountains. They all had a long trip in front of them, and worrying about Cole Bates wasn’t going to make things easier. “We’ll have to, I guess.”
“Maybe we should just give one to him. Then he’d leave us alone.”
Jacob couldn’t tell if Andrew’s suggestion was a serious one. His face was still hidden in the darkness. “There are the girls too. And our supplies. If we let him take part of what we have, do you think he’d stop there?”
“The world is very evil”—Andrew started walking back to their campsite—“but we have been taught not to resist evil. So, ja. Let him take what he feels he needs. Perhaps our kindness will change his ways.”
Jacob pulled at Andrew’s arm, forcing him to stop and face him. “Even if he tries to entice one of the girls away?”
Andrew stood for a moment with his head bowed. “Not if he tries that.” He looked at Jacob. “We have to protect them.”
“All right. If the Bates brothers continue to bother us, and I think they will, one or both of us will stay with the girls whenever they’re near.”
Andrew continued on to the edge of the clearing where they had left their blankets, Jacob following. A layer of mist floated above the ground between them and the wagons, and the sky was freshening to blue above them. Only one star still shone in the west, hanging at the crest of the mountains.
Jacob stirred the cold fire with a stick while Andrew stooped for his blanket, rolling it in his arms as he straightened. He stretched, then watched as Jacob kicked dirt over the few embers that still glowed.
“We’ve set ourselves a pleasant task, haven’t we?”
Jacob looked at him, the dawn pink and orange behind Andrew’s head. “What task?”
“Keeping company with the girls, of course.” Andrew grinned. “I can’t think of a chore I will enjoy more.”
Jacob scooped his blanket off the ground and folded it as Andrew headed through the mist to the wagons. A pleasant task? For sure, it would be pleasant to have an excuse to be with Mattie and the others for the rest of the trip. But if they failed, he would regret it for the rest of his life.
9
Mattie wiggled her toes in the dust next to the line of wagons pulled off to the side of the road. Sunlight dappled through the spring-green leaves above to play on the surface of the pike, calling her to follow the rippling beams to the crest of the hill ahead. Daed had said to wait until they knew how long they were going to rest the horses after this morning’s climb, but they were so near to the top of the mountain pass. They had to be. This was a wild area with no farms about, but that was no reason to fear for her safety. She wouldn’t be more than a few hundred yards ahead of the group, but Daed still didn’t want her to go.
The rest of the families strung out along the trail behind Daed’s wagon, the children peering from the canvas covers and leaning over the sides of the spring wagons. The men met to discuss their next move, standing in a circle next to the Yoders’ wagon, their hands clasped behind their backs while black hats tilted and bobbed like a flock of birds drinking from a puddle. In a few moments they broke up, and Christian Yoder announced, “We’ll have our noon meal here to give the horses a chance to rest. Cold lunch for everyone.”
With the announcement, the camp erupted into activity. Children poured out of the wagons, anxious to run while they could. The women met in the center of the line, no doubt discussing what to fix for a cold lunch. Mattie glanced up the road again. Reaching the top would have to wait. She trudged back to Mamm and the others. They would need her help.
“There you are, Mattie,” Mamm said. “There is a wheel of cheese in the barrel in the back corner of our wagon. Go and fetch it, please. And also the loaf of bread.”
Mattie climbed up the spokes of the front wagon wheel and climbed over the high board end and into the shadowy interior. She made her way to the back corner, balancing on the boxes and barrels that lined the floor like cargo in the hold of a sailing ship.
Naomi followed her in. “Mamm said to get some of the dried apples too. Everyone is hungry after the ascent we made this morning.” She filled her apron with the dried apples and held the corners in one hand to form a bag. “Can you get the bread and cheese by yourself, or should I come back to help?”
“If you can take the bread, I’ll bring the cheese.” Mattie lifted the top of the barrel. A round loaf of dark rye bread rested on top, the last of the loaves Mamm baked before they left home. Underneath were several wheels of cheese, as wide across as she was, wrapped in linen and wax. She handed the bread to Naomi and reached for the cheese. She strained to lift it out of the barrel. She had forgotten how heavy it was.
“Naomi, can you give me a hand?” She turned around, but instead of Naomi, Jacob had just climbed into the wagon.
“I can help you. What do you need?”
“This cheese is pretty heavy, but I can get it. I thought Naomi was still here.”
>
Jacob reached past her and lifted the cheese out of the barrel. “And I’m here now.”
Mattie couldn’t breathe in the confines of the wagon. Leaf shadows danced on the canvas cover, the flickering light pressing in on her as Jacob straightened, the cheese secure in one hand.
“Just one of them? I can take two if you think we’ll need them.”
She shook her head. “Mamm said one.”
Jacob didn’t move, but a slow smile spread over his face as he stood just inches away. “The folks might be pretty hungry after this morning’s climb.”
“We . . .” Her voice faltered as she looked into his eyes. Brown, warm, and inviting. This was the Jacob she had known when she was a little girl. “We have bread and apple schnitz too.”
“Then we’ll have enough to eat.”
He turned away from her then, and took the cheese to the front of the wagon. As he climbed out, Mattie replaced the barrel lid and followed him.
Something had changed. Something that made her heart still pound when she thought of how close he had been as he took the cheese from the barrel. Before leaving the wagon, she took a deep breath. That hadn’t been the first time she had been that close to a man. Andrew always sat close to her when he could, making sure their arms touched or their knees bumped against each other as they rode together.
And how many times had she and Jacob sat side by side along a creek bank when they were younger? How many times had he steadied her with his hand, or pulled her close to him when she tripped over a branch? Mattie drew another deep breath. They had been children then. His touch no different than if it had been from one of her older brothers. But the feeling that had made her heart pound when he stepped near today was nothing like the safe, protected feeling he had given her when they were children.