But if he hadn’t married—and she couldn’t believe that his feelings didn’t run as deep for her as hers did for him—then he might discount a letter. It would be much more difficult to ignore a living, breathing woman, especially one declaring eternal love.
“No,” she answered, her tone unbending. “I shall go to Lawrence with your help or without it. You married your true love. I shall at least have a chance with mine.” She held Emma’s gaze without blinking and saw the moment her sister’s resolve cracked.
“Oh, Rebecca! You are so willful!”
Rebecca crossed her arms. “As are you.”
Sighing, Emma said softly. “Then go. Often one does not learn until they have felt the sting of rejection.”
Luke frowned at his wife. “You’re not serious.”
“She’s old enough to do as she wishes, Luke. We can’t forbid her to leave.” Emma held Rebecca gaze. “She is entitled to rumspringa if she chooses. And I believe she will go on her own, with or without us.”
How unsettling to be the subject of a husband-and-wife discussion as though she weren’t sitting across the same table. Rebecca intruded upon the conversation. “I am going.” She held up a hand to forestall Luke’s objection. “I’ve already decided.”
Exasperation flooded her sister’s face. “Then why did you come? What help do you ask of us?”
“Well, two things. First, the loan of a horse. And second…” She lowered her gaze. “To ask that you return Big Ed and Papa’s buggy. I…uh, borrowed them, and I hate to leave him without a way to take Maummi to church on Sunday.”
“Borrowed” was so much nicer a word than “stole.” And far more accurate too, because she fully intended to return both.
Emma laid a hand on Luke’s arm. “May we speak in the other room?”
A private look passed between them, and then Luke helped his wife to stand.
“You’re still wearing your outdoor things,” Emma said. “Hang them on the peg by the door and make yourself at home.” She left the room in front of her husband.
Rebecca shed her cloak, trying to discern the soft voices drifting from the other room. Emma was doing most of the talking, with the occasional low rumble of Luke’s voice cutting in. Rebecca removed her bonnet and fiddled with the kapp beneath it, tucking in a stray strand of hair here and there. As minutes went by, the muscles in her stomach tightened. She’d meant what she said. She would go to Lawrence with or without the help of her sister and brother-in-law. But the loan of a horse surely would make the trip shorter and easier on the feet.
Finally, they returned. Her gaze flew to Emma’s face, and her knotted insides loosened a fraction at the tiny smile she saw there.
Luke spoke. “You may not borrow a horse.” His voice was adamant, and Rebecca’s heart sank. Then he went on in softer tones. “But if you’re determined to follow through with this crazy plan, I will take you to the train station in Hays City in the morning. The railway agent will keep an eye out for you. A train ride to Lawrence will be faster and much safer for a young woman traveling alone. And I’ll return the buggy and horse to Jonas for you.”
She didn’t bother to hide the jubilant smile that broke at his words. Emma also smiled at her husband, though hers held a trace of worry.
“Then it is settled, and I pray God’s blessing upon your… adventure, however foolish.” Emma folded her hands and rested them on her belly. “Now we will get a few hours’ sleep. Morning will come before we know it. Luke, will you take care of Big Ed? Rebecca, make yourself comfortable in the spare room.”
Rebecca scooted her chair neatly beneath the table, hardly able to contain her excitement. Sleep? How could she, when tomorrow she would board a train—a train!—and by nightfall would arrive in Lawrence.
FIVE
Rebecca stood to one side while Luke spoke to the man behind the window in the train station. Money changed hands, and the railroad agent wrote out a ticket. As her brother-in-law took it, he said something and then turned to point in her direction. She straightened and tried to assume a mature stance as the agent looked her way. He nodded and said something to Luke, who then left the window and crossed the room toward her.
“Here you are.” He handed her the ticket, which she tucked carefully into the patchwork fabric bag Emma had loaned her this morning. “The train doesn’t leave for another two hours, but there are chairs outside where we can wait.”
He started in that direction, but Rebecca stopped him.
“Luke, you need not wait with me. You’ve done so much to help already, and you have several hours more travel before you can return home.”
Despite her expectation of wakefulness, Rebecca had slept deeply for three hours and awakened this morning to Lucas’s excited bouncing on the bed beside her. To her dismay, she discovered Emma already dressed and at work in the kitchen on a bountiful breakfast, and Luke outside performing his morning chores. After the meal he’d hitched a spare horse up to the back of Papa’s buggy, and they left for Hays City.
“I can’t leave you here on your own. Emma would have my hide.”
“I do not need a chaperone to sit in a chair,” she pointed out. “Besides, in a few hours I will be on my own anyway.”
His expression turned uncertain, and she sensed he was willing to be convinced. No doubt he dreaded the upcoming discussion with Papa—nor did she blame him, she realized a little guiltily—and was eager to have the trip underway so he could head for home.
“Go.” She gave him a gentle shove toward the door. “If I am old enough to travel to Lawrence alone, then I am old enough to get on the train alone.” He opened his mouth as if to argue, but she cut him off. “And I am old enough, no matter what you think.”
“Emma won’t like it…”
She smiled. “She doesn’t have to know. Show me the chairs where I may wait.”
He picked up her small travel bag and carried it through the door. Outside they were greeted by bright sunshine and a crowded street. A carriage rolled by with a well-dressed gentleman and a lady in a frilly green dress seated high above the dust generated by the wheels. The man ducked his head at a pair of ladies who paused in their trek across the wide street to let him pass, holding their skirts up to avoid their hems trailing in the dirt.
To Rebecca’s right, a wooden bench and two chairs were lined up along the outer wall of the train station’s office. Luke set her bag on the bench.
“The agent will come for you when the train arrives.” He pointed to the far side of the building, in the opposite direction of town, where the tracks lay across the ground and disappeared into the Kansas prairie beyond.
He paused, and Rebecca thought he might change his mind.
“I will be fine.”
His gaze scanned the area, and then he reached into his vest and pulled out a slender paper-wrapped parcel.
“Emma and I want you to have this.” He shoved the parcel into her hands.
They had given her a gift? How sweet of her sister. She started to unwrap the paper, but Luke closed his hand over her fingers to stop her.
“Not here. Not out in the open.” He lowered his voice. “It’s money. Twenty dollars.”
Rebecca gasped. Twenty dollars? Why, that was more than twice what she’d managed to save on her own, and she’d been stashing away her pennies for years. “I can’t accept this, Luke. It’s too generous.”
She tried to push it back into his hands, but he shook his head.
“Things cost more in Lawrence than you think, and we want you to have enough money to stay in a reputable boardinghouse.”
“But I have my own money. I have saved.”
“Then bring us whatever’s left when you return.”
One look at his expression, and she knew her protests would be in vain. Reluctantly, she slipped the parcel into her bag.
“I will pay you back whatever I use. I promise.”
Nodding, he suddenly seemed eager to be on his way. “If you’re sure you’ll be
okay here…”
She laid a hand on his arm. “I am sure. Thank you, Luke. You and Emma have helped me more than I dreamed possible.”
“Yeah.” He avoided her eyes. “Do me a favor and don’t mention it to Jonas, okay?”
A quick image of her father’s hurt expression when he discovered her letter this morning sent a shaft of guilt through her.
“I won’t,” she promised. “But tell him…” She bit her lip. “Tell him not to worry. I’ll be fine. And I’ll be home in a week. Two at the most.”
Luke lingered, his gaze scanning the area again. “Are you sure you’ll be okay…”
“I will,” she said.
She dropped onto the bench, folded her hands in her lap, and adopted an attitude of patient waiting. Smiling up at her brother-in-law, she saw the moment of his decision in his eyes.
“Tell Jesse I’d like to see him whenever he can get over this way. I want to introduce him to my son.”
“I will,” she said. “And you’ll see your good friend soon, when he returns with me.”
Still looking worried, he tipped his hat and left her. Settling back onto the hard bench, Rebecca discounted his concerns. Of course Luke would be protective of her. He’d met her when she was a mere thirteen-year-old, and he still thought of her as a child, as did the rest of her family. Which was another reason this rumspringa was sorely needed. When she returned, everyone would look at her with fresh eyes. They would see her as a woman in her own right, grown and mature.
A carriage passed, the lady on the bench seat sitting tall, her spine erect, head high, and the horse’s lead held firmly in her hands. Rebecca unconsciously straightened her posture to match. Dressed in a smart blue dress with fluffy white lace at the high collar and snugly fitting wrists, the lady didn’t deign to look her way. And no wonder. Rebecca glanced down at her own straight black skirt and sturdy shoes. She lifted a hand to touch her plain black bonnet, the laces of her white kapp hanging down the sides of her head. Here she was, testing the limits of what the Englisch world had to offer by preparing to board a train and leave the confines of tiny Apple Grove dressed like a crow among bluebirds. Once, years ago, she had announced that during her rumspringa she would wear a feathered hat and fashionable clothing.
Her eyes strayed to the millinery shop adjacent to the train station. The establishment had just opened for the day’s business. She imagined the wares inside. Fine, store-bought clothing in a wide array of colors and bright ribbons.
Well, why not? The train was still two hours away. Jesse would certainly find her more desirable if she wore a striking dress and fashionable shoes. And now she could afford it, thanks to Luke and Emma’s generosity, which she fully intended to pay back.
Anticipation tickled her stomach as she rose from the bench and gathered her satchel in her hand.
Already the excitement of rumspringa had begun.
As afternoon stretched into evening, the town atmosphere gathered weight like clouds in the hours before a bad thunderstorm. Colin paced up and down Massachusetts Street, his eye scanning every corner and down every narrow alley between the buildings, scouting for the source of the trouble he felt deep in his joints. Trouble was brewing in Lawrence. Two years on the job had sharpened his instincts, and he could sense conflict even before the culprits were aware of it.
All he had to do was figure out what was happening and plug the hole in the dike before it blew.
Around suppertime the crowds in the wide street lessened as shops closed and folks headed home. From the vantage point of a straight-backed wooden chair in front of the jailhouse, he nodded at Abe Lewis as he placed the “Closed” sign in the window of the general store for an hour or so to go home and have supper with the missus, as he did every night about this time.
The door to Mrs. Evans’ shop was already shut and had been for more than an hour. She’d closed the shop early today, Colin noted. The crisscrossed barricade of wooden planks that covered the gaping hole where her front window had been made a worrisome sight.
The only establishment on the street that still boasted a lively presence was the Lucky Dollar Saloon. The wide wooden doors had been thrown open to welcome the man who dared to wet his whistle. Piano music spilled out along with a warm light from the numerous lanterns hanging around the saloon’s interior. Even from this distance, the roar of men’s voices lifted in laughter floated on the swiftly cooling air.
A familiar noise came from the opposite direction; the train was coming into town. That would be the Union Pacific on its way to Chicago. Colin pulled his timepiece out of his vest pocket. Five fifty. Ten minutes late.
“Evening, Sheriff.” The blacksmith approached from the direction of the smithy. “Pleasant weather we’re having, eh?”
“Evening.” Colin dipped his head as the big man passed, his tread heavy on the wooden boardwalk. “Right pleasant. Have a good one, Will.”
Will continued past the jailhouse, glanced down the street, and then crossed at an angle toward the Lucky Dollar.
Colin shook his head. The fool was just asking for trouble.
He would stay there long enough to knock back a few and flirt with the new girl, Sassy, and then head back to the forge until late in the evening. Will was a good enough fellow, cheerful and hardworking. He liked to sing as he pounded metal on his anvil. Colin watched him push through the swinging doors. If he had a vice, he shared it with a couple of hundred others in Lawrence.
Colin tilted his chair on two legs, the back resting against the jailhouse. Annie Diggs’ parting comment yesterday ate at him. She was an intelligent woman and had a way with words, which meant every issue of the Kansas Liberal, the newspaper she ran with her husband, might as well be printed with gunpowder. The women in Lawrence devoured it. Most of the men thought it ought to be used for kindling.
Yes, she had a way with words, did Annie. In the two years since he’d pinned on the badge, he’d done some good things in this town. He’d hired and trained five deputies to help him keep the peace. Killings were down. Women were able to walk down the streets without fear of being trampled or worse by rowdy cowboys fresh off the trail who used to make a habit of riding down Massachusetts Street with their guns firing and looking for trouble. The bank hadn’t been robbed in more than a year.
That left the matter of the saloons.
The truth was he stood firmly on the side of the ladies. He’d seen alcohol ruin men’s lives, and he wanted no part of it. But that was his personal opinion. When they had hired him as sheriff, Judge Tankersley and Mayor Bowerstock and the rest of the town council had been clear about his duties. He was to keep the streets of Lawrence streets peacful and the residents safe, and leave the saloon owners alone.
He’d done what he could. He’d turned a blind eye more than once on the ladies’ activities, as long as they didn’t blatantly disturb the peace. Certainly Patrick Mulhaney wouldn’t do that.
The replacement sheriff had been handpicked by the mayor and Tank after hearing of his reputation in Chicago as a brusque man with an eagle eye who took no quarter from lawbreakers. Their decision, though bad, had been based on further inquiries that revealed Mulhaney once shot the gun right out of a desperado’s hand from thirty feet away, even though he’d just downed nearly a bottle of whiskey.
Apparently Mulhaney was known as a man who enjoyed his liquor. Colin wondered how the new sheriff would fare with Annie Diggs and her crew.
Activity at the far end of the street drew his attention. Colin tilted his Stetson forward and watched from beneath the wide brim. A small cluster of women had gathered to stand beneath the awning in front of the Eldridge Hotel. As though she’d materialized from his thoughts, Annie herself stood in the midst of them, a powerful-looking figure who carried herself with confidence and composure. As he watched, a pair of ladies rounded the corner past the bakery and hurried across the street to join her.
What are the good ladies of Lawrence up to tonight?
Colin watched a
s their number grew from a cluster to what could be termed a group, if not a small mob. So far they seemed to be peaceful, but the sheriff’s sense of discomfort swelled like the Kansas River during a wet spring. They weren’t breaking any laws. He folded his arms across his chest, his weight still balanced on two chair legs, and watched the sun, an orange ball of fire, sink in the west. When the group started to move, he shifted his gaze to Annie Diggs. Now they were heading his way.
Correction. They were headed toward the Lucky Dollar Saloon.
Fourteen days, Lord. Two weeks without any trouble. That’s all I ask.
With a resigned sigh, he let the chair’s front legs thump on the wooden planks as they settled into place. He slid his hat back to the top of his head and started to stand when a movement to the left drew his attention. A small stream of people rounded the corner from Berkeley Street. Railroad passengers, probably, looking for a bite to eat or maybe a drink before the train continued east.
A couple, the woman with her hand resting on the arm of a well-dressed gentleman, turned into the Massachusetts Street Diner. Four men passed by and continued in the direction of Annie’s group.
They’re headed toward the Lucky Dollar.
Dread, like a bad piece of meat, settled heavily in the pit of his stomach. A confrontation was brewing.
A lone figure trailed the men. Female. The young woman wore a frilly dress the color of fresh-churned butter. Atop her head was one of those ridiculous bonnets women wore these days, with an arrangement of bright feathers fanning from the back like a wild turkey’s tail. She clutched a bulging patchwork bag in both hands.
And she was limping like a lame mare.
He took a closer look when she passed by on the other side of the street, trailing after the men. She had no injury he could see, but she wore a pair of button-up shoes with heels that threatened to pitch her sideways if she stepped wrong. Ridiculous pointy-toed things the affluent favored. He focused on her youthful features. She was anything but ridiculous looking. With rosy cheeks and round eyes, she was a fine-looking young woman, though her mouth contracted as though she’d been eating persimmons.
A Plain and Simple Heart (The Amish of Apple Grove) Page 4