Jeb's Wife

by Patricia Johns

  “What’s going on?” he called, closing the distance between them.

  “We have a problem,” she said, her chest still heaving. “It’s Simon—”

  Jeb looked around, then jogged toward her. His expression clouded.

  “Simon’s in the far field watering the cows,” Jeb said.

  “No, he’s not,” Leah countered. “Matthew—” She sucked in a breath, still panting. “He just got here. He saw Simon in Abundance. He’s at a card game again.”

  “He’s—” The clouded look on Jeb’s face turned downright stormy, and for a moment she wasn’t sure if that rage was directed at Simon or Matthew.

  “Matthew is hitching up our buggy for us,” she said.

  “Is he now?” That grim expression hadn’t changed.

  “I’ll go alone to fetch Simon if I have to,” Leah said.

  “Go by yourself to deal with an Englisher gambling ring?” Jeb shot her an incredulous look.

  “I’d rather you came with me, though,” she said hopefully. “I obviously don’t know what I’m doing here, but I’m not leaving Simon to that pack of wolves either.”

  Jeb muttered something under his breath that sounded a whole lot like a curse, then started back toward the stable, one hand on his bad hip as he limped along.

  “Does that mean you’re coming with me?” she asked, hurrying to catch up.

  “Of course I’m coming with you,” he retorted. “Let’s go.”

  A wave of relief crashed over her. She wasn’t alone in this anymore—and frankly, if it came to facing down some violent Englishers, she felt a whole lot safer with the beefy, irritated Jeb by her side than Matthew, with his coaxing smile.

  As they came back toward the stable, Matthew’s buggy sat unattended, and Matthew was under the buggy shelter, working with the straps that hitched a horse to the shafts. Jeb wordlessly headed in that direction.

  “Thank you,” Jeb said gruffly. “I can take it from here.”

  “Yah. Right.” Matthew stepped back, and he shot Leah a questioning look. “I came by to tell you that I saw Simon—”

  “Leah told me,” Jeb said.

  “Well, so . . .” Matthew didn’t seem to know quite what to say. “I suppose I’ll leave it to you, then.”

  “That would be good,” Jeb said, looking up and shooting Matthew an irritated look. “This is family business now. I thank you for letting us know. Feel free to get on with your own business.”

  The command in Jeb’s tone was unmistakable, and Matthew’s cheeks flushed under his downy beard. Matthew crossed the scrub grass toward her.

  “Is he always like this?” Matthew asked, lowering his voice.

  “Yah, I am!” Jeb called, straightening. “I might be ugly, but I’m not deaf. Head on home to your wife, Matthew. I appreciate the gesture, but I’d be real glad to see you off my property.”

  Matthew strode back to his buggy and hoisted himself back up into it. He muttered something under his breath, then flicked the reins and tugged them hard so that the horse pulled the buggy in a tight arc. Leah stared after Matthew, then back at Jeb. Was this really how he treated his guests? Jeb gave an exaggerated shrug, then took the horse’s bridle and led him around. The buggy was hitched.

  If Leah wasn’t mistaken, some sort of male communication had just happened between Matthew and Jeb. Jeb had just staked his turf.

  “Let’s go.” Jeb’s voice softened, and he held out a hand to her.

  She put her fingers in his rough grasp, and he helped her up into the buggy seat. His grip was firm and strong, and she settled herself as he headed around the buggy and got up on the other side.

  “He was helping us,” Leah said.

  “Agreed,” Jeb said. “He was also doing it for you. Personally. He was checking up on you.”

  Leah frowned. Was he? Maybe. It was hard to completely erase a romance. And maybe that was a bit of a relief for her—Matthew’s feelings might not have been completely fake if he still felt some tenderness for her.... Was it wrong to appreciate that?

  “I didn’t encourage that,” she said. “I’m not that kind of woman, Jeb. I don’t toy with other’s women’s husbands, and I certainly don’t flirt.”

  She wanted him to know that—truly know it. It was more than her reputation. It was her ability to take some pride in her own life.

  “I know,” Jeb said.

  “So, you didn’t need to scare him,” Leah said

  Jeb flicked the reins and they started forward. His flinty gaze flickered in her direction.

  “Scare him?” Jeb chuckled, and this time he actually sounded amused. “Leah, if that was enough to scare him, he’s not much of a man. All the same, I’d rather keep him off my property.”

  They came up to the main road, and Jeb flicked the reins again, hurrying the horse into a trot. Leah settled back into the seat. And maybe her husband wasn’t neighborly, but today that terrible attitude would be more beneficial to Simon than all the friendliness in Abundance.

  She could only hope that by the time they got to Simon, they’d find that he had sense enough to pull himself out of the game. Because with Jeb’s current mood, she wasn’t sure what her husband would do.

  * * *

  The drive into Abundance wasn’t a long one, but no matter at what speed the horse trotted, Jeb felt like they were moving at a crawl. He glanced over at his wife. Her face was pale, making her dark eyes look bigger as she stared straight ahead. She looked scared.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Jeb said.

  Leah looked over at him. “He might not be gambling, you know.”

  And arguing with her about that wasn’t going to help matters, so he kept his mouth shut and reached over and took her hand. Her fingers were cold, but she squeezed his hand in return.

  Leah needed support right now, and the fact that Matthew had tried to nose in at a vulnerable time irritated Jeb. The fact that he’d tried to nose into their private business at all was annoying. Matthew was married with a wife of his own—and maybe it was that he knew Leah had truly loved Matthew that made him feel pricklier. . . . It certainly made the younger man’s presence all the more annoying. Funny how a little detail like that could make all the difference—who a woman had loved. Here he was, the big, muscle-bound lug who wasn’t enough. And up until now, he’d thought he was okay with that. They both knew what they stood to gain from this marriage. Except Jeb had started giving in to whatever this was he was feeling for her ... and he’d started doing the very thing he was trying to protect himself from: wanting more.

  Blast it. He wasn’t supposed to do this. His own deep desires were his downfall. If could find some sort of contentment with less, that was better. It was attainable.

  Leah’s hand felt good in his, and the contact was probably more comforting for him than it was to her right now. But when they got into the town limits, he let go of her hand and focused more directly on the road. He knew where he was going, and while there wasn’t designated buggy parking, there was a grassy area where he could leave the buggy for a few minutes. Here was hoping he wouldn’t be there long enough to get a ticket.

  Abundance was a picturesque town, the summer sunlight softened by dappled shade. Large trees spread their limbs over the streets, and tourists stood on the sidewalks with their phones outstretched, taking videos of his passing buggy, no doubt. This kind of thing annoyed him at the best of times, but he didn’t have the time to bother with it today.

  “It’s just up there—” Jeb reined the horse in at a four-way stop and let the cars opposite him go. Then he flicked the reins and guided his horse around the corner. “You stay in the buggy.”

  “I’m not staying,” Leah said, and Jeb looked over at her.

  “This is a seedy establishment,” he said. “It’s no place for a woman.”

  “Then it’s no place for a decent man either,” she shot back. “I’m getting my brother.”

  Jeb gritted his teeth. She was so stubborn! But he didn’t have a
lot of time to argue with her. If she was going in there, she’d have him at her side, if nothing else. He urged his reluctant horse into the car parking lot, reining in as a vehicle backed out.

  “This isn’t buggy parking!” the driver called out, rolling down his window.

  Jeb ignored him.

  “Hey, buddy!” the man repeated.

  “Keep driving,” Jeb barked. They always thought they meant well, but the Englishers treated the Amish like they were a step below—charming but not too smart. The driver shook his head, rolled up his window, and drove on.

  Jeb guided their horse over to the grassy area and managed to get most of the buggy up on the sod. It would have to do. He hopped down, grabbed the horse’s bridle, and tied it to the low-hanging limb of a tree. Leah climbed down, and she shot him a worried look. At least she had the good sense to be wary.

  “Come on, then,” he said, and he led the way toward the front door.

  The pool hall was part of a strip mall that included a restaurant, a drug store, and a laundromat. It was on the corner and had darkened windows that had some bubbles showing where the plastic hadn’t been applied smoothly. The front door showed the business hours, and it was too early to be open, but when he tugged on the door, it wasn’t locked. So he strode inside.

  Most people didn’t mess with him if he walked purposefully enough, not that he frequented establishments like this. He held open the door for Leah, and when she stepped inside, she slipped her cool fingers into his palm. He closed his hand around hers, tugging her close against him.

  “Leave the talking to me,” he said. “I’m more intimidating.”

  She didn’t argue with that, and he wound his way around the green-felted tables toward the back of the room. An Englisher wearing black jeans and a T-shirt with some strange-looking musician on the front sat beside a back door. The man wasn’t very old, and he sported a wispy mustache but no beard.

  “Place is closed, man,” the Englisher said.

  “I’m here to see someone,” Jeb replied.

  “Family outing?” the Englisher said, barking out a raspy laugh. “Get lost.”

  “A friend of mine is in there,” Jeb said. “Simon Riehl. Amish fellow. He’ll stand out. He’s terrible at cards.”

  The Englisher smirked, then shrugged. “All right.”

  Jeb’s first instinct was to tell Leah to stand here and wait for him, but he wasn’t keen on leaving her alone with this fellow either, so when the Englisher stepped aside, he opened the door and tugged Leah into the room after him.

  The back room was bigger than he’d anticipated. It looked more like a small warehouse, with some shelves along the walls loaded with boxes and restaurant-size bottles of condiments. On one side a table was set up, and it was surrounded by Englishers with cards in their hands and Simon—the only Amish man there. He held his cards fanned out in front of him, and his gaze flickered up when Jeb came in, then he froze.

  “Let’s go, Simon,” Jeb said quietly, and his voice carried.

  Simon didn’t answer, but his gaze whipped over to an Englisher who looked up, annoyed. He wasn’t a large man, but he exuded a confidence that labeled him the boss here.

  “What’s going on?” the man barked. “Who are you?”

  “His family,” Jeb replied. “We need him at home.”

  “Jeb, with all due respect, I’m busy here,” Simon said.

  And that was all it took. Because Simon was not only skipping out on work that he would have accepted payment for, he was sitting here gambling. And Jeb didn’t care how he looked in front of these Englisher fools. He dropped Leah’s hand and limped swiftly toward the younger man. Simon looked up in alarm, and Jeb shot out a hand, caught him by the back of the neck, and hauled him, scrambling to his feet.

  “You’re supposed to be at work,” Jeb muttered. “Let’s go.”

  There was a smattering of laughter from the men around the table.

  “I was winning!” Simon blustered.

  Jeb looked back at the Englisher who appeared to be the boss of the place, and the man shrugged.

  “He’s ahead,” he confirmed.

  “Consider it a life lesson, Simon,” Jeb said. “Simon has just forfeited his winnings. Have a good day, gentlemen.”

  A smile spread over the boss’s face, and he swept the pile of chips away from Simon’s now empty place.

  “What are you doing?” Simon hissed once he got his footing. He tried to jerk out of Jeb’s grasp, but he couldn’t.

  “Shut up,” Jeb grunted, and he propelled Simon toward the door. Leah opened it and they carried on out. The Englisher at the door eyed them as they left, and Jeb felt like he could feel the eyes on the back of him. These were not good men, and if there had been money owing, he doubted they’d have let Simon walk away, so they could just thank the good Lord for Simon’s momentary luck.

  Leah opened the front door, and only when they were outside in the fresh air again did Jeb drop his hand.

  “What is wrong with you?” Simon demanded, pulling away and whirling around. “Who do you think you are anyway?”

  “I’m the idiot who paid your debt!” Jeb retorted. “Get in the buggy!”

  “I’m not going anywhere!”

  “Get in the buggy,” Jeb repeated, lowering his voice. “You think we wanted to come out here?”

  “So what, Matthew came and tattled on me like a little boy?” Simon asked with a bitter laugh.

  “Something like that,” Jeb agreed. “You think those men won’t beat you within an inch of your life if you step wrong?”

  “I can handle myself,” Simon retorted.

  “You came to me for help,” Jeb snapped. “Remember how scared you were? I’m the one who picked you up off the side of the road and got you home. And once you figured out just how much trouble you were in, you came to me! And now you risk yourself again? You’re going to get yourself killed, and for what? For some money? For a thrill? You’re an idiot, Simon. I can tell you straight. You’re not smart, and you’ll end up dead.”

  “Simon—” Leah’s soft voice pierced the anger, and Simon turned toward his sister. “Tell me you don’t owe anything.”

  “I was ahead!” Simon retorted.

  “Thank God.” She rubbed her hands over her face. “Okay. Then no harm done. I don’t care if you lost money. I’ve had enough of this. What were you even doing in there?”

  “I have a talent, Leah,” Simon said. “Believe it or not, I’m good at that game! I was about two thousand dollars ahead when your husband here gave it all away.”

  Leah blinked at him, and for a moment Jeb thought she might be impressed. Then she shook her head.

  “You were fifty thousand dollars behind last time,” she said.

  Jeb couldn’t help but smile at his wife. She was smart—he liked that. Simon wasn’t going to sweet-talk her into anything stupid. And she said it like she saw it. That was another trait he could appreciate.

  “Get in the buggy,” Leah said quietly. “We’re going home.”

  Simon looked like he might argue that, but Jeb was out of patience.

  “You’re getting in that buggy, one way or an another,” Jeb said, and he meant it. Those Englishers might beat him, but Jeb wasn’t beyond hog-tying him if forced.

  Simon seemed to take the warning in Jeb’s tone to heart, because he sighed and headed toward the back of the buggy.

  “I’m not bailing him out again, Leah,” Jeb said quietly.

  “You don’t have to. He was ahead,” she replied. And this time around, she was right. But it wouldn’t be the last. Jeb was sure of it. Whatever it was that drew him out today, the lure wasn’t gone. Whatever Simon thought he could get, whatever payoff seemed worth the risk ...

  “No, I mean if he does this again and isn’t so lucky,” Jeb said. It didn’t matter what Jeb felt for Leah . . . “I’m serious. I don’t have the money. I’m not selling land for him. If this happens again, we won’t be able to pay it.”

&nbs
p; Leah’s face paled, and she nodded. “No, I wouldn’t expect you to sell land.”

  But she looked toward the buggy, where her brother hoisted himself up, and he saw the worry and sadness in those dark eyes. For all of Simon’s weaknesses and stupid choices, Leah loved her little brother. Did Simon know what a treasure it was to be held in a woman’s heart like that? But maybe he and Simon had more in common than he liked to admit, because he had a sister who never gave up on him either. And he didn’t reciprocate to her as much as she deserved.

  Looking at Simon, it was easy to think of him as a young idiot. He still thought he had “talent” when it came to games of chance, and he had no idea what it was like to face the world alone.

  Jeb did.

  Chapter Sixteen

  That evening Leah poured the boiling water into a teapot and added three tea bags. She was used to making tea for a houseful of people since her time in Rimstone, and looking down into the pot, she knew she had made too much.

  She put on the lid, waiting for it to steep.

  When they got back that afternoon and Simon had gone back to work with Jeb, her brother had looked angry—that simmer in his gaze that told her that he hadn’t forgiven them for the embarrassment of being dragged out of the card game like a kicking child.

  And perhaps she didn’t blame him for his anger. Not fully. But what else were they to do? At what point was she supposed to just step back and let him learn his lesson? Except with these Englishers, learning his lesson the hard way might very well get him killed. She should have stepped back earlier, when the stakes weren’t quite so high.

  Leah got down a mug, spooned two spoonfuls of sugar into it, and then filled it with steaming tea. She carried it through to the sitting room, where Jeb sat on the couch next to a kerosene lamp, his Bible open on his lap. He glanced up as she came in.

  “I made you tea,” she said quietly.

  “Thank you.” He accepted the mug.

  It was a small gesture, but a genuine one. He’d dragged her brother out of a gambling den by the scruff of his neck, and for that he was her hero.