A Cowboy at Heart (26 page)

Shock appeared on her face and she took a backward step,
clutching the pitcher close to her chest. “No. I will never leave. Ever.”

He almost reached out to grab her, to hold her in place before she could run away. He would have, except for the menacing presence of Bishop Miller advancing on them.

He took a deep breath. He hardly believed the words that came out of his own mouth. “What about if I joined up? You know. Became Amish.”

Her jaw dropped.

“I’ve given it some thought lately. It’s a good life, a peaceful life, and I want that. If I had to choose between living like Jonas and going back to my former life, I’d choose this.” He spread his arms wide to indicate Jonas’s farm around them, and then he held her gaze with his. “Especially…if you were to agree to see me…”

Though the sky had lightened with dawn while they spoke, shadows still lingered beneath the apple trees, shading part of her face. He couldn’t be sure, but were those tears sparkling in her eyes?

Her shoulders straightened and her neck stiffened. “No.” The word, though small, carried the weight of certainty. “I have been married. I miss my Samuel too deeply to ever consider another. I will not marry again.”

She turned and fled, leaving him alone. Nor could he go after her, for Bishop Miller arrived to take the place she vacated.

The man looked after her, and then he turned back to Jesse, his eyes narrowed to slits. When he spoke, it was not in reference to Katie.

“This is your doing.” He waved a hand backward, indicating the barn. “You and your
Englisch
friends.”

Though reeling from Katie’s rebuff, Jesse set his teeth and focused on the man in front of him. “Are you accusing me of setting fire to my
Amish
friend’s barn?”

“Yours was not the hand to light the fire, but the fault lies with you.” He did not bother to control his voice, and the men scattered around the area stirred uncomfortably.

Jesse met the bishop’s eyes, though he was aware that two men were headed their way from the barn. The rage that rose in him was only in part a result of the man’s accusation. He made an attempt to shrug off the hurt and confusion Katie’s words had caused.

“We have helped a friend in need. You refused to help him.” He narrowed his eyes. “I still don’t understand your ways, Bishop. Isn’t that your job, to help the people who look to you for leadership?”

The man’s expression became even grimmer. “Your question shows your ignorance of our ways. And the foolishness of yours.”

They were joined then by Jonas and Amos. Both wore somber expressions as their gazes flickered from Bishop Miller to Jesse.

The bishop’s rigid posture relaxed, and he made a visible attempt at control. “Jonas, what does the Confession say concerning the spoiling of our goods?”

Jonas hesitated, clearly unwilling to answer, but at a quick look from Bishop Miller, he swallowed. “
For the Lord’s sake we must flee from one city or country into another, and suffer the spoiling of our goods; that we must not harm anyone, and, when we are smitten, rather turn the other cheek also, than take revenge or retaliate
.”

He glanced at Amos beside him, who looked troubled but nodded his agreement.

“So have we confessed and pledged.” The bishop clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head toward the sky. His voice carried to all in the vicinity. “Therefore, it is clear to me that Jonas must leave this farm and flee to another.”

Gasps sounded from a few of the men nearby. Amos’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Jonas stared at Bishop Miller, his expression stunned.

“Have you lost your mind?” Jesse couldn’t believe his ears. “You can’t mean that—”

The bishop ignored his outburst and addressed Jonas. “Caleb Weaver’s farm on the eastern end of Apple Grove lies untended since his passing last fall. Elizabeth has expressed a desire to move to Troyer, where her sister’s family has invited her to live with them. Because she and Caleb had no children of their own, the farm must pass to other hands.”

“But…” Jonas’s mouth snapped shut, and he struggled visibly for control before attempting to speak again. “I have not the means to pay for a new farm.”

Bishop Miller waved that concern aside. “The district will help, if need be.”

No one spoke. Though Jesse could hardly credit his eyes, Jonas, looking miserable, appeared ready to concede.

“Jonas. Can we talk?” Jesse couldn’t keep quiet, not when the scene unfolding in front of him stretched credibility. “You can’t be serious. This is wrong! It’s exactly what Littlefield is hoping for. You can’t give him your farm, your home. You can’t let him win.”

Jonas refused to meet his eye. Jesse glanced around, trying to find someone who would stand with him against the madness of Bishop Miller’s edict. Though they were the focal point of the
Amish men within listening distance, nobody would look directly at him. He stepped sideways, in front of Amos. “Surely you see how wrong this is.” Amos was a level-headed man. He would see reason. “Tell them they have to fight this. Littlefield will be coming after them next.”

Though Amos looked troubled, he shook his head almost sadly. “You do not understand our ways.”

“Oh, I understand.” Bitterness made his voice carry far on the cool morning air. “Littlefield has won. All this…” He motioned to the barn and beyond, to the unseen fence that started the conflict. “He won’t stop at Jonas’s land. His goal was to frighten you so badly you would let him take what he wanted, and he won.”

Jonas looked up then, his eyes so full of conflict that Jesse’s throat constricted in sympathy.

“It is not about winning.” He spoke in the same calm, gentle tone he might use to correct an errant child. “It is about following Christ’s example. In that way only can we find true peace.”

He turned then and walked away, leaving Jesse to stare after him. Every fiber in Jesse’s being screamed that this was wrong, that a great travesty was about to occur.

He forced himself to turn back and meet Bishop Miller’s stern countenance. He was surprised at what he saw there. The man’s gaze was fixed on Jonas’s back. Orange flames reflected in the dark depths of his eyes, and something else smoldered there besides.

Instead of the triumph Jesse expected to find, he glimpsed a flicker of respect.

The sun was fully up and rising toward its apex before Jonas’s barnyard emptied of buggies and wagons. The barn’s roof had collapsed just after dawn, and the danger of the fire spreading was contained. The heap of ash and charred wood that used to be the barn was a bleak reminder of Littlefield’s intent. The women had put together a bountiful meal for those who had worked tirelessly to battle the fire. Jesse’s appetite had gone up with the flames. Sour acid churned in his gut, fed by the travesty that was about to take place. Jonas would lose his farm, and there was not a thing he could do about it. He was sure he was not the only one who felt that way, though he was the only one to voice his disagreement. Gloom settled on the men and women. Even the children went about with subdued expressions.

Three buggies remained after the rest had gone. Chairs had been brought from the house and placed in the shade of the big tree. Jesse sat in one next to Jonas and John Beachy, Katie’s father, who seemed as disturbed by recent events as Jonas himself. Amos also sat beside them, head bowed. His shoulders were slumped, his face hidden beneath the brim of his hat. If Jesse had to guess, he would say the man was praying.

Most of the women were inside the house cleaning up after the huge meal, all except for Katie and the two Beiler girls, who were occupied in washing the dishes at the pump. Jesse considered joining them to lend a hand but dismissed the idea. He hadn’t seen an Amish man ever do a woman’s chores, at least not openly. Common sense told him to approach Katie cautiously. Her words spoken beneath the apple tree still stung. Apparently, he’d figured her kindness for affection and had spoken too soon. He shouldn’t have spoken at all. The injury still muddled his mind. A woman
like Katie—an Amish woman and him? What had he been thinking?

“John, what do you know of Caleb Weaver’s farm?” Jonas’s question broke the heavy silence.

Katie’s father pursed his lips before answering. “It’s not as well situated as this one. Caleb had little interest in farming, other than what was needful to put food on the table.”

Amos nodded. “Only one field did he keep plowed, for wheat.”

Jonas’s shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “Land can be plowed.” His gaze strayed toward his new cornfield.

“It is not level land,” John observed. “Caleb used to jest that in all of Kansas there was only one steep hill, and it belonged to him.”

“There is a stream for the livestock?” Jonas asked.

John shook his head. “Not that I have seen, though I have not walked the boundaries.”

“Wells can be dug.” Amos attempted a positive tone, which fell flat.

Jesse could no longer hold his peace. “I still can’t believe you’re talking this way. I mean, I understand about not fighting, but to pull up stakes and walk away from everything…”

He closed his mouth when a grimace of pain crossed Jonas’s features. They quickly settled into their accustomed placid expression, but not before guilt knifed Jesse. The last thing he wanted was to cause his friend more pain.

“What if you sold Littlefield the part of the land he wants?” He had to force the words through clenched teeth, so strongly did he dislike the proposal he was about to suggest. “Let him have the water access. If you’re forced to dig a well, it might as well be here
as over at this other place. Even if only half the men who showed up last night pitch in, you could have a couple of wells dug in no time at all.”

Interest flickered in Jonas’s features, and Jesse warmed to the idea. “What about that field?” He pointed toward the open prairie to the south, beyond the road that led to Hays City. “Does anybody own that?”

The three Amish men exchanged questioning glances.

“I do not know.” Jonas’s voice held the faintest sign of hope.

“We can check on it in Hays City,” Jesse said. “If it’s unclaimed, you can move your boundaries. If it is, then you could buy it with the money you get from selling the water access to Littlefield. It’s not a perfect plan, but you could keep your home, Jonas.”

John leaned toward him. “Why do you think Mr. Littlefield will pay for what he has tried to take?”

“He might not. He’s dirty. We all know his kind.” Jesse shrugged. “But maybe he’d be happy to have a legitimate claim to the land. If you’re dead set on keeping this peaceful, it’s worth a try.”

The interest faded from Jonas’s face. “Bishop Miller has already spoken of this. He told me he intended to speak to Elizabeth Weaver today.”

Jesse ran a hand across his stubbly chin, frustration threatening. Surely the bishop wouldn’t—

“Katie! You must come.”

The note of urgency in
Maummi
Switzer’s voice echoed across the yard. The men turned toward the house. Katie, who had been kneeling on the ground with her hands in the dish pan, wasted
no time in getting to her feet.
Maummi
’s searching gaze turned their way.

“Amos, you as well. It is Sarah.”

Amos took off for the house at a run.

Jesse stayed back, uncertain of his role. Should he go too, or was this purely women’s business?

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