A Cowboy at Heart (22 page)

Luke’s eyebrow cocked upward. “How so?”

“When I was his age, I was getting into mischief every day of my life. Snitching my daddy’s cigars and stuffing frogs down the girls’ dresses. Butch doesn’t have a rebellious bone in his body.”

Colin shook his head, sadly. “That boy’s been through a lot and seen more killing than me, even with years of being a lawman, including his own parents. It has to weigh on him.”

Butch returned with Jonas in tow. The two crossed the yard, Jonas’s troubled gaze going from one of his sons-in-law to the other. He joined them on the porch and nodded a silent greeting.

Luke reached around to his back and pulled a folded newspaper from beneath his vest, which he handed to Jonas. “You’ll want to see this.”

The expression on Jonas’s face darkened as he scanned the newspaper. When he finished, he handed it without a word to Jesse.

It was a copy of the
Hays City Sentinel
. The paper was opened to a list of notices. A bad feeling settled in Jesse’s stomach as he glanced down the page until his eyes stopped on a name he recognized.

Andrew W. Littlefield hereby claims one hundred sixty acres of Kansas land, the southern border of which lies approximately forty miles west of Hays City under the terms of the Homestead Act of 1862. The boundaries to said land are established and marked with a fence. Improvements have been made in accordance to the Act in the form of homes and barns erected beginning November 1885. Claim filed with the land management office of Hays City, Kansas
.

Jesse’s mouth tightened. Below that notice, several identical ones identified the claims of Matthew Woodard, Harold Lawson, and even the now-absent Saul Sawyer, as well as a handful of women whose addresses were listed as Boston, Massachusetts.

“That snake.” His teeth ground together as he handed the paper back to Luke. “He thinks he can get away with it by putting a notice in the paper?”

Colin and Luke exchanged an uncomfortable glance.

“Well, that depends,” Luke said. “Jonas, did you ever file a claim to this land?”

Jonas nodded vigorously. “I wrote a letter and sent it to Washington, DC. There was no office in Hays City then. The
Englisch
man who helped us told us about digging the trench to mark our land, and we did. Me, John Miller, Eli Schrock, and the others.”

“A trench is a legal boundary in Kansas,” Colin said. “As good as a fence. I know that from when we laid claim to our place.”

“I dug a trench too,” agreed Luke.

Jonas shook his head wearily. “Perhaps it is best to give my neighbor what he wants.”

“No, Jonas.” Jesse’s eyes fixed on the Amish man. “No.”

Luke took a deep breath. “Jonas, you can’t do that. This is your land, your home.”

“
Ja
, it is.” Jonas’s expression was troubled but serious. “And when I am gone, who will have it? I have no sons. My daughters are gone and have homes of their own.” He spared a quick smile for each of his sons-in-law. “I planned for my girls to marry Amish husbands. Perhaps one would be his
fader
’s second son. He would move here to help me work my farm, and one day take over. I would build a
dawdi haus
there,” he pointed to a narrow strip of land between the garden plot and the wheat field, “and live out my days as a
grossdaadi
. But now?” He shrugged his suspender-draped shoulders.

“But to give in to Littlefield isn’t the answer. Would you have him treat your neighbors the same? Steal their land and endanger their stock?” Jesse shook his head. “You can’t do that.”

The look Jonas turned on him could be considered mildly
reproving. “He is my neighbor. Did not Christ instruct us to love our neighbors and let naught come between us?”

Jesse was glad when Colin, the preacher, spoke up. “He did, and you’re to be commended for following His instructions, but Christ also told us to look out for one another. If you give in now, what’s to stop Littlefield from moving the fence again? You might get up in the morning and find his cattle grazing in your wheat field.”

Creases appeared beneath the rim of Jonas’s straw hat.

“Think about it,” Jesse said. “The way he’s grabbing up land, he might not stop with you. Who’s your neighbor that way?” He pointed to the east.

Jonas cast a quick, worried glance in that direction. “Zacharias Schrock. And beyond him is John Beachy.”

Jesse’s ears perked up. Katie’s father lived two farms away? He filed that bit of information away for future reference.

Colin chided his father-in-law in a reasonable tone. “If Littlefield gets away with driving you off your land, he might decide the Amish make an easy target and he’ll go for theirs next.”

Though he was still clearly troubled, Jonas shook his head. “Conflict is not the Amish way. We keep ourselves separate from the world in order to escape the corruption that is found there.”

“You’re not going to stay separate for long if the corruption takes over your land and throws you out of your home,” Jesse pointed out.

Colin’s expression softened. “Jonas, we don’t want you to do anything that goes against your beliefs. We respect everything you stand for.” They all nodded, even Butch, who had remained silent but had followed every word. “We want to act on your behalf. You don’t have to do a thing.”

“Just give us a chance,” Luke said. “Let us try one more thing. No fighting, either. Would you agree to that?”

After a long moment, Jonas’s head dipped in a slow nod, and Luke and Colin exchanged a triumphant glance.

Jesse studied the pair. Something was cooking between those two. Some plan—most likely as ruthless as Littlefield’s. Luke was staring toward the visible marking of Littlefield’s fence, his fingers tapping absently against his thigh. Jesse had seen that expression on his friend’s face many a time in the years they rode together, and he knew it meant Luke had decided to do something he wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

“I know that look,” he said. “What have you two come up with?”

“Littlefield is partial to fences.” Luke’s jaw was set with grim determination. He glanced at Jesse and smiled. “We’re going to do a little fence work ourselves.”

TWELVE

A
breeze ruffled Katie’s hair as she placed the tip of her needle against baby-soft fabric for the next stitch. Many of the women in Apple Grove insisted that sewing on the Lord’s Day was sinful, but she didn’t agree. If her task had been a joyless one, such as mending ripped seams or darning worn socks, that would definitely be work and therefore forbidden. This kind of sewing was different. Making gifts for precious newborns or new brides helped her relax. She’d long since learned the trick of letting her fingers do the work while her mind wandered.

Today she had brought a chair out to the yard to sit in the sunlight and breathe in the fresh Kansas air. Her thoughts strayed to the morning’s church meeting while her gaze fixed on the western horizon, past the neat rows of corn
Fader
had planted while she’d been at the Switzers’. Jesse’s arrival at church had taken her
by surprise. She’d had a hard time focusing on the preaching, even though Bishop Miller’s message about the necessity of observing the rules of propriety had been specifically for her benefit. That the
Englisch
cowboy had come to see her was obvious, and the fact had not gone unnoticed–by the bishop or by
Maummi
Switzer. The memory of
Maummi
’s shrewd and slightly disapproving stare had lingered into the afternoon.

A noise behind her alerted her to a presence. The slow, almost silent footfall on the grass could only be one person. A smile took her lips, and she placed the next stitch, though her ears were attuned to the sound. Wait. Wait. A little closer.

At exactly the right moment she leaped to her feet, turning with her hands out and her fingers curved into the shape of claws. “
Raaaaahhh!”

Levi started, his wide-eyed expression every bit as shocked as she could hope. Then he threw his head back and moaned. “I thought this time I could do it. I made no more noise than a rabbit, and my shadow is behind me.”

Katie laughed, enjoying his consternation. “Even a rabbit makes noise,
bruder
.”

He scowled. “
Ja
, and has long ears. Like yours.”

She refused to take offense at his taunt, though she had been sensitive about her ears from girlhood. Which he knew, the pest.

Levi dropped to the ground while she returned to the chair and took up her sewing.

He plucked a long blade of grass before looking up at her. “I saw your
Englisch
man at the meeting today.”

“He is not my
Englisch
man,” she chided, “and do not say that around others. The gossips are already whispering about him.
’Twould do no good, and maybe even harm, to have my name spoken in the same sentence.”

“It already is.” The blade of grass went into his mouth, the end waving in the air as he chewed. “I heard it said that you are sweet on him and even spoke with the bishop about leaving the Amish to marry him.”

Katie’s hands fell still as her mouth gaped open. “Who voiced such a
narrisch
notion?”

He shrugged. “It does not matter if the notion is crazy or not. It is being said, and some are paying it credence.” The grass waved for a second or two. “Is it true?”

“
Ach
! That my own
bruder
would ask such a question!” His expression of inquiry did not change. She answered with more force than strictly necessary. “Of course it is not true. I would no sooner follow
Englisch
ways than…” She cast about for a suitable example. “Than Bishop Miller himself.”

He studied her for a moment more, and then gave a satisfied nod. “
Gut
. I told her so.”

Katie leaped on the word. “Her?”

Now it was her turn to study him, and she was amused to see the tips of his ears turn pink. Which could only mean one thing. “Mary Schrock you mean. I saw you hovering around her after the meeting.”

“I did not hover. We talked.”

She hid a smile. That her little brother was enamored with the pretty Schrock girl was apparent to anyone with eyes. For the past year the two had been seen standing off to the side at every community gathering, never far enough from the crowd to draw censure but isolated enough to exchange private words. Judging by the
increasing red stain that spread across Levi’s face, those words had lately turned to more than the idle passing of time.

“Will we hear an announcement soon?” She focused on her hands where they held the soft fabric.

Though he did not answer, his smile betrayed him. Katie had a hard time not squealing with excitement. Last fall Levi, Mary, and three other young people had completed the required classes and been baptized in the Amish church. At the time she’d wondered if one of those young women had caught her brother’s eye. After baptism an Amish man and woman could declare their intentions and marry. Often they waited until a few weeks before their desired wedding day to visit the bishop and receive his blessing on their union. Only then would the families be informed, and the excitement of preparations would overshadow everything from that moment forward until the marriage was accomplished.

At twenty years, Levi was old enough to marry. Mary, if she remembered correctly, was his junior by only one or two years, the same age she had been when she and Samuel were wed. A good age to start a family. A wave of sorrow threatened at the idea of children, but she brushed it aside, as she did more and more often lately.

“Well, please be sure to correct Mary about the rumor.” She grinned. “I would hate for my future sister-in-law to believe such a thing about me.”

The blush erupted full force on his face. He whipped the grass from his mouth. “How did you pry this out of me when all I intended was to ask you about the
Englisch
man? Not a word before we speak to
Mader
and
Fader, ja
?”

“
Ja
,” she agreed, though not without a teasing glance.