The Heart's Frontier

FIFTEEN





Emma and her family stood in the shade of the chuck wagon and spoke with the somber men. Though Luke had greeted their arrival with true gratitude, sadness hung over the cowboys like a low-riding cloud. They had lost two of their own, and Emma’s heart grieved at the pain she saw in each face. Especially Luke’s.

Their little group of eleven stray cows had swelled to almost forty by the time they caught up with the main herd. The Switzers had encountered clusters of wandering steer along the way, and the poor things needed almost no prodding to join them, as though they had been lost and looking for someone to lead the way home. Since their arrival, they had melted seamlessly into the herd, which hung closely together as they grazed, as though drawing strength from each other. It was almost as if they sensed their handlers’ grief at the loss of their friends.

Emma had not met Kirk, but the thought of the smiling young Willie going to his premature grave was enough to make her weep.

“The first order of business is to bury our friends,” Luke told Papa, though his glance kept stealing toward her, which kept a perpetual flow of heat rising into her cheeks.

“What about them?” Rebecca, who had dropped to her knees beside Jesse to watch a grim-faced McCann clean the nastiest wound Emma had ever seen, pointed toward the bodies of the four cattle rustlers. “Will you leave them in the open?”

Luke shook his head. “That might be what they would do with our dead, but we won’t stoop to their depths. We’ll give them a proper burial and take their belongings with us to Hays. Maybe the sheriff there can identify them and notify their next of kin.”

The gesture warmed Emma’s heart toward him even more. He was too kindhearted, too upright, to leave the bodies of even dishonest men without proper handling.

“Eight, you say?” Maummi stood behind Rebecca, watching the ministrations to Jesse’s wound from over her shoulder. “Eight there were who robbed us.”

Papa looked at her for a moment, and then without a word he strode away toward the corpses. When he approached, he removed his straw hat and held it in two hands in front of him while he inspected the bodies. After a moment, he replaced his hat and returned.

“Their faces are familiar.” His expression was troubled as he glanced at Maummi and then at Luke. “Those men took our belongings. The man who showed us mercy, the leader of the others, is there.” He bowed his head and closed his eyes in a moment of silent prayer.

“And what of the man with the black teeth?” Emma asked. Lester, his boss had called him. That man had frightened her more than any of the others. Something about the way he looked at her, the disrespectful way he sneered at Maummi, disturbed her far more than the mere act of taking their possessions.

Papa shook his head. “That one is not here.”

So. Emma lifted her gaze to a swell in the land that bordered this plain to the west. The man with the black teeth was still out there.

“Wrong!” Maummi’s sharp reprimand startled all of them. She glared down at the cook. “Not clean enough is that wound. And set it before it is wrapped, else you’ll lame him for life.”

McCann bristled. He drew himself upright and glared at her. “I’ve been dressing cowboys’ wounds for more’n twenty years.”

Maummi didn’t back down one inch but returned his glare full measure. “A slow learner you must be, then.”

The man’s bushy eyebrows dropped lower over his eyes. “If you think you can do better, ma’am, then have at it.”

Maummi had been waiting for the invitation. She dropped to the ground and quickly unwrapped the strips of cloth. “Fresh water,” she barked toward the cook. “And alcohol for cleaning.”

“The only alcohol we have is the drinkin’ kind,” he said. “Whiskey—”

He shrank before the glare she turned on him. “Bring it.”

Emma almost felt sorry for him as he struggled to his feet and slunk away toward his wagon. When he passed Luke, he muttered sideways, “I can’t abide no woman taking over. No good will come of this, mark my words.” His glance slid to Emma, and he ducked his head. “Sorry, ma’am.”

Beside her Luke nodded absently, his gaze fixed on a faraway point. Emma drank in the sight of his rugged profile, the fresh lines of stress around his tight lips. The burden he must feel! If only she could help him.

“We have to round up strays. The fact that you found so many, Jonas, is encouraging. Maybe they’re too tired from the last stampede to run far.” He shook his head. “I can’t spend much time looking, though, nor can I spare men for the hunt. We’re running way too lean now.”

The older man, Griff, had been standing quietly off to one side. “We have four able-bodied men here, Luke. You, me, Morris, and Charlie. That’s got the compass points covered. We’ll cross our fingers that Vic will be back soon with the rest of the horses.”

Luke shook his head. “I can’t send you out alone, Griff. You know that. There are four rustlers still out there, and for all we know they’re lying in wait for us.”

“I’ll go,” Jesse put in from his position on the ground. “I’m feeling better already. Put a tight binding on this leg and heft me into my saddle.”

Maummi’s jaw dropped open and she gave him a stern stare. “Unless you want to lose your leg, you will stay here.”

A stubborn look came over his face, but Luke stopped any argument. “Forget it, buddy. The only place you’re going is into a wagon.” His voice softened as he looked around the circle. Emma’s heart ached at the tone of his voice when he next spoke. “Maybe we ought to cut our losses. Hit the trail and push hard. We might still make the train if we run them on the hoof. After all, it’s better to arrive in Hays with three-quarters of a herd than to not arrive in time.”

Concern deepened the creases on Griff’s weathered face. “That’ll do you in, Luke. Your first cattle drive, and you show up that light of beef?” He shook his head. “You won’t work as a trail boss ever again.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Probably not.”

Something inside Emma’s rib cage twisted at the resigned look on his face. Words flew out of her mouth before she could check them. “We can help. Papa and Rebecca and I brought those cows here. We can help you find the others.”

Rebecca leaped to her feet, a delighted smile on her face, while Maummi drew in an audible shocked breath. Papa’s normally impassive face held a myriad of emotions, disapproval primary among them.

Luke turned an indulgent smile her way. “You did me a great service. But you’re not equipped to scout strays and ride herd over a long trail. You can’t do that on foot, Emma.”

A rod of steel seemed to slide through her spine. “Give me a horse, then. I know about horses. We have Big Ed to pull our buggy at home. I care for him every day.”

Beside her, Charlie hid a snicker behind his hand, while Griff snorted out loud.

“Emma.” Luke’s soft voice reached inside her with a warm touch. “Driving a horse is different than riding. I appreciate your offer to help, though.”

Rebecca stepped forward. “It’s not so different.” She cast a glance toward Papa and then continued in defiance of his stare. “Emma and I can both ride. We’ve ridden Big Ed before. Many times.”

Emma swallowed a groan. Leave it to Rebecca to confess their sins in front of Englischers. The Amish respected their horses for the important role they played in the household, but they rarely rode, and the one time she and Rebecca had asked, Papa had forbidden them to ride Big Ed. Maummi looked scandalized, while Papa’s expression settled into resignation.

She locked eyes with her father and loaded an unspoken plea into her gaze. Later she would suffer any penance he deemed appropriate, but for now these men needed their help. At first his lips tightened, but she didn’t blink, didn’t look away. Finally, his chest expanded in a sigh.

“We will help, my girls and I.”

At his words, Luke’s head lifted higher. Hope lightened the darkness in his eyes. He took a step forward, his hand outstretched toward Papa.

“Thank you, Jonas. You are an answer to prayer.”

As he clasped Luke’s hand, Papa’s reluctant smile broke free. “As you have been for us, my Englisch friend.”

Emma exchanged a triumphant glance with Rebecca. Finally, they would be able to assist Luke as he had assisted them. And yet…

She glanced toward the west, where two of the bad men who robbed her family and killed Luke’s friends had escaped. The man with the black teeth was out there somewhere.





This horse was taller than Big Ed back home. Emma stood beside the black mare and tried to still her trembling limbs as she looked at what seemed an immense height from the ground to the saddle.

Luke stood next to her, ready to give her, Rebecca, and Papa their first cowboy lesson.

“All right. Put your left foot in my hands and grab hold of Sugarfoot’s mane. When I lift you up, swing your right leg over the saddle.” He cupped his hands and extended them, ready to receive her foot.

What? He wanted her to straddle the horse? Emma’s mouth dropped open. “I can’t do that!”

Confusion crossed Luke’s features. “Why not?”

How could he even ask? She spread her feet apart and planted her hands on her hips. “Because I’m a girl.”

“I know that.” A faint pink tint colored his cheeks. “But you said you’d ridden before.”

“Yes, but we didn’t…” She stumbled to a stop. How could she say this in a delicate way? Her glance slid to Papa and then to Rebecca. She avoided Maummi’s gaze completely, though her grandmother’s disapproving glare from a few feet away weighed her down like a full sack of wheat across her shoulders. “We climbed up onto Big Ed from the fence rail and sat sideways.”

Luke stared at her a moment, and then he raked fingers through his hair. “We don’t have a sidesaddle, Emma.”

“Neither did we,” Rebecca volunteered. “We held on to Ed’s mane.”

Behind her, Maummi looked ready to explode. Papa’s lips drew into a tight line, as though he was guarding his tongue with a monumental effort.

“You can’t do that on a trail horse,” Luke explained in a patient voice. “They’re not used to bareback riders, and especially not women riding sidesaddle. You’re going to have to straddle the horse like a man.”

“Impossible!” Maummi’s outraged shout echoed back to them from a distant hillside. A few cattle grazing nearby lifted their heads and glanced in her direction. She stepped up and grabbed Papa’s arm. “Jonas, it is unseemly for girls to ride like men.” She lowered her voice and spoke in a shocked whisper heard by everyone. “Their legs will show up to their knees, and even beyond!”

“Not if we wear trousers,” Emma put in quickly.

Maummi’s mouth fell open, and her chest heaved with her effort to reply. Even Papa had lost his impassive expression, and he stared at his older daughter with disbelieving wide eyes.

“Beneath our dresses,” Emma hurried to add. “Black trousers that will preserve our modesty. Trousers like yours, Papa. Maummi has mended the damaged ones. Rebecca and I can wear those.”

While Maummi sputtered with outrage, Papa closed his eyes and bowed his head. Emma exchanged a glance with Luke, who had taken a subtle step backward, thereby removing himself from the family discussion. He lifted an eyebrow in her direction before turning to scan the horizon with feigned nonchalance.

After a long, silent moment, Papa lifted his head and opened his eyes. “In service to our Lord, the apostle Paul contended with strange customs in pagan lands. Yet the Lord sanctified him and kept him pure. I believe that will happen here, that my girls will be sanctified in this offering of assistance and kept pure.” He turned toward Rebecca. “Bring two pairs of mended trousers.”

Rebecca cast a triumphant grin toward Emma before turning and running for their wagon.

Maummi battled an obvious struggle, and then she stomped over to thrust her face a few inches from Emma’s. “Some things the bishop does not need to know.” Her sparse eyebrows lowered. “Mind that well, girl.”

Emma kept her expression carefully clear as she nodded. When Rebecca returned, Maummi stomped off in the direction of the chuck wagon to check on her patient, as though she couldn’t bear to witness the disgrace of her granddaughters donning men’s trousers.

The men politely turned their backs while Emma and Rebecca slipped Papa’s trousers over their legs. Papa’s girth was much wider than Emma’s. She grabbed a double handful of excess fabric at her waist. Giggling, Rebecca whispered, “We shall need suspenders to keep them on.”

Should they ask to borrow Papa’s spare suspenders as well? Emma glanced over her shoulder at her father’s stiff back. No, they shouldn’t push him any further.

“Tuck the excess into your bloomers, and be sure to hold them up when you mount the horse,” she whispered back.

Rebecca’s peals of laughter were contagious, and both girls were giggling uncontrollably when they finally turned to the men, their hands holding bunched fabric at their waists.

With an effort she regained control and announced, “We are ready.”

Luke and Papa turned toward them. Papa kept his eyes averted, but Luke’s gaze dropped immediately to her feet. Grinning, he caught her gaze and winked a private message for her alone. Her stomach fluttered in response.

“All right,” he said, much louder than necessary, “back to the lesson.” He stepped close to Sugarfoot’s side, cupped his hands, and stooped low to the ground. “Miss Switzer, if you’re ready.”

With a grin for Rebecca, Emma approached. Placing a hand on Luke’s shoulder to steady herself proved to be distracting. She was aware of the firm muscles beneath the rough fabric of his shirt, and the warmth of his skin. Her face was inches from his when he paused for a moment, her foot in his hands, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that she felt all the way to her core. His breath warmed her cheek and snatched her own breath from paralyzed lungs with an intense feeling she’d never experienced before.

And then he broke the moment with a deepened grin. “Up you go.”

Her fingers wrapped themselves in Sugarfoot’s coarse mane, and she pulled herself upward at the same time Luke raised his hands. Almost on instinct, her right leg swung over the horse’s back, and in the next moment she sat high in the saddle, the faces of those gathered around turned up to look at her.

Luke awarded her with a huge smile. He lifted his hand to pat her leg but then stopped before he touched her. A tickle erupted in her stomach. He brought his hand back to his side with an embarrassed expression and turned away. “Rebecca, you’re next.”





Riding the horse wasn’t nearly as difficult as Emma feared. In fact, straddling Sugarfoot was much easier than clinging to Big Ed’s mane, trying to keep her balance with both legs on one side of the horse’s barrel chest. Rebecca whooped with delight when she successfully mounted her own horse, and Emma didn’t bother to control a grin that seemed insistent on plastering itself on her face.

Even Papa seemed to enjoy his cowboy lesson. He sat astride his horse, a chestnut belonging to the recently deceased Willie, with an erect posture and a wide grin of his own.

“You’re doing great, Jonas.” Mounted on Bo, Luke urged his horse to the front of his small cluster of students. “Okay, now I want you to let the reins lay loose in your hands while you grip the horse tightly with your knees. That’s how you will communicate, through the pressure of your legs.”

Papa’s horse surged ahead of Emma’s to follow Luke. Emma admired the way he sat tall in the saddle, his posture straight and at the same time relaxed. While she clutched the reins with a death grip, Papa let the leather straps slide freely in his grip.

Even Luke noticed the ease with which Papa rode. “You’re not a bad rider, Jonas.”

The grin on Papa’s face tickled an answering grin from Emma.

“I may be Plain,” Papa replied with dignity, “but I’m tough.”

Emma laughed and then tightened her legs around Sugarfoot’s chest. Her heart thrilled when the mare surged forward in response.

She urged the horse to Luke’s side. “When will we learn to lasso a cow?”

Luke threw his head back and laughed, his expression the lightest she had seen it since they had caught up with him.

“I’ll be happy if you can manage to keep yourself in the saddle,” he replied. “Leave the roping to us.”

“Hmm.” Emma gave him a tight-lipped reply, and then she urged Sugarfoot forward with a tightening of her knees. Yes, the situation was serious, but before this herd was delivered in Hays, she intended to prove to Luke she could do more than keep her seat on a horse.