A Cowboy at Heart (28 page)

Jesse jerked awake when his chin touched his chest. He glanced sideways on the porch to see if anyone had noticed. Jonas was dozing too, his head thrown back to rest against the whitewashed side of the house, but Amos sat with his eyes fixed on a distant place in the dark night. The song of crickets filled the smoke-scented air around them.

Jesse stretched. “How are you holding up?”

It appeared at first that Amos was so intent on his thoughts he hadn’t heard the question. When he finally spoke, it was as though his voice came from some faraway place.

“She is a strong woman, my Sarah.”

The doubt in his words tore at Jesse’s heart. “Yes, she is. Spunky too.”

A shadow smile flashed onto his face and faded as quickly. “My Alise also was a strong woman.”

“Care to talk about her?”

“She died giving birth to Karl.” The words were heavy with grief and worry.

“Sarah is not going to die.” Jesse spoke with more conviction than he felt. The image of those bloody cloths was burned onto his mind’s eye.

Lord, don’t let her die. Amos is a good man, and he’s already lost one wife.

The door opened, and Amos shot out of his chair like a bullet. Jonas woke, and he and Jesse hurried to stand on either side of their friend as
Maummi
Switzer pushed her way out backward, a small bundle in her arms.

“Your
dochder
, Amos Beiler.” She placed the baby in Amos’s ready arms.

Jesse craned his neck to peer at the opening in the blanket. “A what? Do we need to go for a doctor?”

“A daughter.” Amos’s eyes filled with tears as he gazed at the infant. “I have a beautiful daughter.”

Jesse gave his friend a hearty slap on the back. “Congratulations.”

Amos tore his gaze from the baby and lifted an anxious face to
Maummi
Switzer. “And my Sarah?”

The elderly woman’s expression became grave. Jesse’s heart wrenched inside his ribcage.
No. Not Sarah.

Amos wavered on his feet, and his eyes closed against the news. “She lives,”
Maummi
Switzer hurried to say, her hands extended toward him as if to snatch the child should he should fall. “But she has lost much blood. Maybe too much. Katie has done what she can and Sarah is resting now.”

“Can I go to her?” Amos’s voice cracked on the words.

Her expression softened. “
Ja.
It will comfort her to have you near.”

Amos wasted no time. Before Jesse could blink, the bundle was thrust into his arms and Amos disappeared into the house.

He gazed down at the sausage-wrapped infant while Jonas peered over his shoulder. A tiny face lay nestled in the soft folds of the blanket. The nose, no bigger than his little finger, looked like Amos’s in miniature. Though the eyelids were shut tight, they were wide-set like Sarah’s.

“Is it supposed to be so little?” he asked.

Maummi
Switzer tilted her head, her gaze fixed on the baby. “None start out big, but
she
is smaller than most.”

Rosebud lips pursed, and the little features scrunched. The tiny mouth opened, and the child started to cry.

“Here.” Jesse thrust the bundle toward
Maummi
Switzer. “She’s not comfortable with me.”

Chuckling, she relieved him of the nearly weightless burden and tucked the child expertly into a crick in her arm. The crying stopped instantly.

Jonas glanced at the closed door and asked in a low voice, “And what of Sarah?”

The amusement vanished, and
Maummi
’s eyes filled with
sorrow. “She is weak. Katie has done what she can, but…” She shook her head.

Jesse turned away. Amos had already suffered such loss. It was not fair for him to lose more. Not fair for a baby to grow up motherless. And what of the older children? They had lost one mother and now might lose another. How well Jesse knew the pain of a mother’s death.

The door opened again, and he almost feared turning around lest he see in Amos’s face that she was gone.

“Where’s my
daed
?” asked a young voice.

Jesse turned to find little Karl standing in the doorway, rubbing sleepy eyes with a fist.

“He is speaking with your
mamm
,” Jonas answered kindly.

“Look.”
Maummi
Switzer bent at the waist to show him the baby. “A new
schweschder
for you.”

“I already have two sisters. I wanted a
bruder
.” The child extended his neck to peer at the bundle. “But a
schweschder
is good too. May I have some milk?”

Jesse would have laughed, except Karl looked up at him, his expression curious. “Where is Butch?”

“He’s in bed, isn’t he?” They had put the boys together into the room where Butch had been sleeping, and the girls in the other room.

The child shook his head. “Not anymore. I woke up and he is not there.”

Not there. A visit to the outhouse, perhaps? No, he would have had to cross the porch, where the men had been sitting for several hours. Jesse whirled, scanning the moonlit yard. In the distance
the shadowy figure of Big Ed stood beside the makeshift pen he and Jonas had rigged for the goats. But where was Rex?

“I will search the house.” Jonas headed for the door.

Jesse stopped him. “Don’t waste your time. I think I know where he went.”

He stretched his gaze across the dark wheatfield, toward Littlefield’s place. A feeling of dread seeped between his ribs and crept toward his heart. What was that boy up to?

FIFTEEN

J
esse tightened his legs around Big Ed’s barrel. The horse lived up to his name. He was half again as wide as Rex, which made Jesse feel as though he were straddling a bull. Though he was a mild-tempered beast, Big Ed was clearly uncomfortable carrying a man on his back, accustomed as he was to pulling a buggy, plow, or whatever other farm equipment Jonas used.

Jesse shifted his weight on the doubled-up blanket he’d thrown across the horse’s back. His saddle had fallen victim to the fire. Big Ed skittered sideways, dancing like a nervous colt.

“It’s okay, boy.” Jesse rubbed his neck with vigor. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but we’re almost there.”

A tangle of nerves twisted in his gut. What was Butch thinking? A stunt like this was so out of character for a timid kid like him. Jesse set his teeth. The fire had obviously upset him more than anyone realized. And no wonder, since savages had set fire to
the wagon in which he’d hidden while they slaughtered his family. Jesse should have realized, should have checked on the boy after the others left. But with Sarah’s baby coming early and worrying about Amos, he hadn’t given Butch a second thought.

Up ahead lay the Littlefield place. The moon bathed everything in a clear, white light. Jesse slowed Big Ed and scanned the area, searching for any sign of movement. Nothing. No light glowed inside the main house or the ranch house. Where was that boy?

He sat up straight, cupped his hands around his mouth, and gave a low whistle. For a second nothing happened. Then a horse rounded the southernmost barn. Rex. But Butch was not on his back. He trotted toward Jesse, tossing his head.

“Hey, boy.” Jesse slid off of Big Ed’s back and rubbed Rex’s neck. “Having a little nighttime adventure, are you? Where’s Butch?”

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

A harsh voice cut through the night. Jesse jerked upright, his gaze drawn to the man coming around the side of the ranch house. Woodard. And he wasn’t alone. Butch was beside him. The man had hold of the back of the boy’s shirt as they walked, and when they stopped fifty feet away, he gave a rough jerk. Jesse took a step forward, his hands clenching into fists.

“Let the boy go.” He spoke in a calm voice, but he infused a note of warning into his tone.

“I can’t do that.” Woodard turned his head and spit, a habit that had gone beyond irritating. “I caught him sneaking around the barn intent on mischief. I can’t let that go, can I?”

The door to the main house opened, and Littlefield exited.
He carried a lamp, and a circle of light traveled with him when he stepped onto the porch. “What’s going on out here?” He held the lamp high, peering toward Jesse. “Who are you, and what are you doing, showing up at my house in the middle of the night?”

Jesse, who had been standing between Big Ed and Rex, stepped forward into full view. Recognition crept over Littlefield’s face.

“Mr. Montgomery. I heard there was a big fire over your way. I hope your friends are safe.” He chuckled.

Jesse returned his mock-pleasant smile with a grim stare. “I came for the boy.”

“Boy?” The surprise on Littlefield’s face was genuine. He glanced toward Woodard and caught sight of Butch for the first time.

“I caught him sneaking around, boss.” Woodard gave Butch a shove, still holding tight to his shirt. Butch nearly lost his footing. “He was carrying this.”

He lifted a lamp, and Jesse recognized it as being from the bedroom in Jonas’s house. “It’s full of oil, and he had a couple of matches in his pocket.”

Though he kept his expression tightly under control, inwardly Jesse groaned. Butch’s intentions were clear as could be. Littlefield had burned Jonas’s barn, and the boy had decided to strike back in kind.

Judging by the expression on Littlefield’s face, he’d come to the same conclusion. A smirk twisted his lips. “Well, now. That looks like more than a boyish prank to me. Looks like we stopped a serious case of vandalism before it happened.”

“Lucky you,” Jesse replied drily. “Some folks don’t catch it until it’s too late.”

His comment was met with no surprise. Butch looked utterly miserable, and he had yet to lift his gaze from the ground in front of his boots.

“I heard about my neighbor’s misfortune. What a relief that Mr. Woodard caught the culprit before he burned my barn down too.”

Butch flared up. “I didn’t set fire to Mr. Switzer’s barn!
You
did, you horse’s hiney!”

“Butch,” Jesse said quietly.

Littlefield ignored the outburst and continued to address Jesse. “Perhaps we should send for our good friend Sheriff Wiley. I’m sure he has space for a vandal in his jail, especially such a small one.”

Butch’s shoulders slumped further. After his prior conversation with the sheriff, Jesse had no doubt Wiley would do whatever his “good friend” Mr. Littlefield asked. But he’d also seemed like a decent guy. Given proof he couldn’t ignore, maybe Wiley would do the right thing.

He spoke as though the appeal of the idea just occurred to him. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll bet Wiley will be interested to know that the coward who shot me in the back has turned up here again.” He leveled a stare on Littlefield. “And no doubt he’ll want to know of the boy’s whereabouts last night. Butch snores like an old bull and kept me up half the night, so I can speak for his location. The sheriff might be more interested in why the boy felt the need to
retaliate
.”

The implication that Littlefield was responsible for burning down Jonas’s barn was clear. Jesse had the satisfaction of watching the man’s lips go tight. Though the night made it hard to see eye to eye, he did not look away from the man’s hard glare.