A Cowboy at Heart (32 page)

The two exchanged a quiet glance, not nearly as excited as Jesse expected. Well,
excitement
might have been too much to expect from these sedate two, but at least they could show a bit of gratitude. After all, he’d just saved their farms.

“
Danki
, Jesse,” Jonas finally said. “You are a good friend.”

His voice contained a notable lack of enthusiasm. Jesse’s gaze traveled from one to the other. “You two are up to something. Mind sharing it with your good friend?”

Another swapped glance, and Amos nodded. Jonas looked back at Jesse.

“We have decided to leave Apple Grove.”

His jaw dropped. Surely his ears were playing a trick on him. “You’re leaving the Amish?”

“No, no.” Jonas rushed to deny the accusation. “We will start a new community.”

The reason dawned on Jesse. “You mean one where you can write your own rules?”

Amos looked at Jonas before answering slowly. “We are Amish, Jesse. We will continue to practice Amish tenets, and we will live by the
Ordnung
the Lord dictates. But we will seek His wisdom concerning every decree.”

A slow smile took possession of Jesse’s lips. If anybody could hear from the Lord and lead people the way He directed, it was these two. In fact, he’d trust either of them more than Bishop Miller.

“So you see that my need for this farm no longer exists.” Jonas waved a hand toward the creek that was the source of the conflict. “Let Mr. Littlefield have it with my blessing.”

“No!” The protest rose from a deep sense of injustice. Littlefield shouldn’t be allowed to profit from his bullying tactics.

He would have gone on to try to convince them, but the door to the house opened and Katie came out, flanked by the Beiler children. Their gazes met, and she paused before descending the porch steps. An aching lump settled in Jesse’s throat at the sight of her. A lovelier woman had never existed. She averted her eyes.

“We are ready,” called the oldest as they crossed the grass. “
Mamm
and Katherine are sleeping.”

“Katherine?” Jesse raised a questioning brow in Amos’s direction.

“
Ja
, that is the little one’s name.” He beamed at Katie. “Katherine Marta Beiler, after the two who saved her
mader
’s life.”

The two younger children climbed up into the buggy, though the oldest daughter waited for her papa to lift her up. When Jonas helped Katie climb onto the front bench, Jesse realized she was leaving too.

“You’re going home?”

She gave a quick nod. “Amos will take me on his way. Sarah is weak, but she will recover with rest and food.”

“And tea?” Jesse teased.

The smile that flashed onto her face warmed him. “And tea.”

Amos settled on the bench beside her and picked up the reins before speaking to Jonas. “Tomorrow evening, then?”

“
Ja
.”

With a flick of the reins and a cluck of his tongue, Amos urged the horse forward. Jesse stood beside Jonas and watched until they turned onto the road. Some of his newfound joy disappeared with that buggy. He’d hoped to speak privately with Katie and tell her of his victory at the saloon.

“He’s coming back tomorrow to visit Sarah?”

Jonas nodded. “And to meet for prayer about the new community.”

Jesse turned to face him. “Speaking of that, it doesn’t make sense to walk away from your farm, Jonas.”

“What makes sense is not always what is right. I am convicted that the move is right.” He laid a fisted hand over his chest. “I feel it here.”

“That’s fine, but don’t let Littlefield get away with stealing from you. Wherever you go, you’re going to have to file a new claim and set up a new farm. How are you going to pay for that?”

A troubled crease appeared between his eyes but cleared after
a moment. “The Lord will provide. I must follow my convictions and not resist when someone would take what is mine.” He turned a kind smile on Jesse. “You do not understand because you are not Amish.”

Jesse watched his friend’s back as he walked away. With a feeling akin to wonder, he realized Jonas was wrong. He did understand. The man standing before him possessed a strength he admired more than he could say. Did he draw that strength from his faith? And if so, could Jesse one day have a measure of that force, that conviction, that let him turn his back while a scoundrel like Littlefield robbed him?

Maybe. But Jesse was not Amish. Not yet.

“Hey, Butch!”

The boy stood beside the watering trough where Rex was drinking his fill. He looked up at Jesse’s shout.

“Never mind about brushing him. I have a call to pay first.”

He found Littlefield outside, overseeing work on yet another fence. This one was round, like a training corral for horses, and sturdier than the makeshift barrier he’d erected on Jonas’s farm. The man caught sight of him at a distance, and by the time Jesse halted Rex in front of him, he was flanked by Woodard and Lawson. Sawyer and another man continued their work on the fence, though they both kept cautious eyes on him.

Littlefield held a lit cigar, which he raised to his lips before speaking. “Mr. Montgomery, you seem to be spending a lot of time here lately. You’re not looking for a job, are you?”

Jesse controlled a bark of laughter that threatened at the idea that
Maummi
Switzer would call
narrisch
. What a crazy notion. “No, but thanks for thinking of me.” He continued before Littlefield could deny that his comment was an offer. “I came to talk about property boundaries.”

“That again?” The man took a puff from the cigar and blew a stream of smoke. “Unless you’re here to tell me that your Amish friend has moved my fence back to its proper place, I don’t think there’s anything more to be said on the subject.”

“Actually, I paid a visit to the land management office over in Hays City this morning.”

“Did you now?” Littlefield’s smile deepened. “I’m eager to hear what you learned there.”

Lawson’s chest heaved with a silent laugh, and Woodard’s lips crooked sideways. Yesterday the man’s smirk would have gone right through Jesse, and he would have been tempted to punch that ugly face. But today he felt…if not exactly kindly toward the man, at least satisfied to let his words do the punching.

“Yeah, I had a good talk with a Mr. Reynolds down there. Nice fella, and he knows a lot too. Explained all the details about the Homestead Act to me.” Jesse pushed the brim of his hat back on his forehead. “I already knew about filing claims and building and planting and such. But I wasn’t aware that a man could hurry along the process by paying the government for his land.”

Littlefield puffed on his cigar again, his expression arrogant. “A man needs to understand the law if he wants to work it to his advantage. You might instruct your friend on that count.”

“Oh, yeah. I agree.” Jesse shifted in his saddle. “Jonas did everything he was supposed to. He filed his claim, built a house and a barn, planted crops, and marked his land with a furrow. What he
didn’t do was go back five years later and file the final petition to get his title. A pity he didn’t understand. A man’s ignorance can hurt him.”

Woodard snickered, but the smile had faded from Littlefield’s face. The snake’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, as though he knew Jesse was about to level him with a blow.

“Yep. Poor Jonas almost lost everything because of an oversight and fifteen measly dollars. Good thing I went down to check on it before it was too late.”

“What?” All amusement was now gone from the man’s voice.

“Oh, yeah. Turns out there’s a fifteen-dollar filing fee that goes along with the petition for the title. Didn’t you know that? I had a twenty-dollar gold piece in my pocket to buy a new saddle with, seeing how mine got burned up in the fire.” He turned a look toward Woodard. “But I put it to better use. Now my friend’s claim is secure.”

“That’s impossible!” Littlefield’s snarl snapped with anger. “I paid two hundred dollars for this land, and it includes the watering hole.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. Reynolds tried to tell you about the fifteen dollars, but apparently you were in too big a hurry to listen. Jonas is the rightful owner of that watering hole, and I have a note from the government to prove it.” He patted his vest pocket.

Woodard and Lawson had lost their smirks and stood watching their boss with caution. A deep red flush suffused Littlefield’s face and the muscles in his jaw bulged. If Jesse had been standing in front of him instead of in the saddle, he would have been bracing for the man to take a swing at him.

“I do have some good news for you, though. My friend is
thinking about pulling up stakes and settling elsewhere. Doesn’t like the stink in these parts. He might consider selling his place if the price was right.”

“I will not
buy
that land.” The words were ground out between gritted teeth. “It’s already mine.”

Jesse shrugged. “Well, suit yourself. We were going to give you first shot at it, but there’s another buyer waiting.” That was the most carefully worded statement he’d ever made. Not a lie. He didn’t claim that anyone else had expressed an interest in Jonas’s farm, though if Littlefield drew that conclusion, so much the better.

The man’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Another buyer?”

“Actually, you might know him. He has a big spread down in Texas like you do. Name’s Robert Elway. As chance would have it, he’s in Hays City right now, buying up land and putting together a crew to move his herd up this way.” Jesse removed any guile from his smile. “You two will make good neighbors since you have so much in common.”

The flush deepened to purple, and a vein throbbed in Littlefield’s forehead. “How much do you want?”

“Me?” Jesse put a flat hand on his chest. “It’s not my land. But my friend might listen to an offer if I bring it. ’Course, I’ll have to think of his welfare and make sure he gets a fair price.”

“I’ll give him two dollars and fifty cents for the twenty-acre strip that includes the creek. That’s twice what it’s worth.”

No doubt Jonas would be happy with the terms, but Jesse shook his head. “He’s not interested in parceling out his farm. You buy the whole one hundred sixty acres or I’ll offer it to Elway.”
He leaned forward, one arm resting on the saddle horn. “And, by the way, I think the price of land is about to go up in these parts.”

Littlefield looked as though he might have an apoplectic fit. He crushed the cigar in his fist and then threw it on the ground and pulverized it beneath his heel, a stream of curses flying from his mouth. Even though Jesse had spent most of his life in the presence of cowboys, gamblers, and drinkers, he’d never heard some of the words Littlefield uttered. Woodard and Lawson each stepped backward, out of arm’s reach, and the two working on the corral cast anxious glances his way. Jesse arranged his features into an imitation of Jonas’s placid expression and waited for the man to finish.

Finally, Littlefield regained a semblance of calm, though fury still showed in his rigid stance and clenched fists. “Five dollars an acre and not a cent more.”

With an effort, Jesse kept his expression calm. He’d been hoping for three. When he could be sure his tone would stay even, he said, “I think he’ll consider that offer favorably. I’ll let you know.”

The cattle baron whirled and stalked away. He stomped up the steps and into the house. The door slammed shut behind him.

When he was gone, his men exchanged stunned expressions. They had probably never seen their boss bested. Jesse was tempted to taunt them with a victorious smirk, but for some reason he couldn’t see the pleasure in it. What would arrogance get him, except a reputation like Littlefield’s? Instead, he bobbed his head in a brief nod toward Lawson and Woodard.

When he tugged at the reins to turn Rex, he caught Sawyer watching him. Was that fear in his face? Jesse could set Sheriff
Wiley on him, but what purpose would that serve? They would string him up for shooting a man in the back. Jesse had seen enough killing in his lifetime.

He touched a finger to his hat in a gesture of farewell and had the satisfaction of seeing Sawyer’s jaw drop before he kicked Rex into a gallop.

Now that one confrontation was out of the way, he might as well take care of the second before he headed back to the Switzers’ for the night.