The Heart's Frontier

TWENTY





For one agonizing moment, Luke was paralyzed with indecision.

What should I do?

He lay flat on the hillside, his head peeking up over the ridge, and watched the distant scene with increasing horror. The newcomer talked to his partners, his arms gesturing. And then he threw back his head and laughed. The sound echoed around the bowl and stirred up fear in Luke’s gut. Though he could not see her face, Emma’s figure on the ground seemed to draw more tightly into itself. Her posture indicated her terror.

The sight decided him. If he left, galloped back to camp to rouse the men and return with greater numbers, he would be leaving Emma alone in the hands of ruthless, vicious men. There was no telling what they would do to her before he returned. Correction. He had a couple of very good guesses about what they would do. Possibilities formed in his mind like bullets striking a target. Acid roiled in his stomach. No. He couldn’t leave her with them, not even for a moment.

Moving as cautiously as possible while his insides screamed at him to hurry, he crept backward down the hill. When he was sure his silhouette could not be spotted, he rose and sprinted toward Whitey. He grabbed his rifle, a Winchester Model 1873, and checked to be sure the magazine was full of cartridges. Twelve shots. Plus his six-shooter in his holster. Surely that would be enough to take care of four mangy kidnappers.

A thought struck him in the instant before he leaped into the saddle. He’d answered his question of a moment before. No, he wasn’t willing to risk killing another human being for a herd of cattle, but he would blow those rustlers’ heads off before he’d let them harm Emma.

At the back of his mind, a nagging worry pounded its way to the front. What could he, a lone cowboy, do against four murdering thieves? If he went charging into their camp, no doubt he’d have the element of surprise, but it wouldn’t last long. He’d probably get himself killed and Emma along with him. He needed a plan.

Lord, I’m fresh out of ideas. Help me. No. Help Emma!

The silent plea rose as he pointed Whitey in the direction of the pass into the bowl and dug in his heels. Surely the Lord wouldn’t leave this one special sheep all alone with no one to rescue her but a cowboy who couldn’t even manage to get his herd to the railhead intact.

The last jagged ridge loomed ahead on his left when he spotted movement off to his right. Four horses charged across the plain in his direction. A wave of relief hit him so hard he almost lost his seat. The riders were coming from the direction of his camp. In fact, he could make out a few identifying details. Jonas’s round straw hat glowed in the cold white moonlight as though he’d set it afire.

Taking in their location at a glance, Luke judged they were not in sight of the rustlers’ camp, but if they kept galloping ahead at that pace, they would round the shelter of the ridge in a matter of minutes. He jerked Whitey’s reins and raced across the plain to cut them off.

“My Emma,” Jonas shouted as soon as he neared. “Where is my Emma?”

“Shhh.” Luke held up a hand as he closed the final few yards. “Keep your voice down or you’ll give us away.” His gaze slid from Jonas to Griff. “I don’t know why you’re here, but I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life.”

“Jonas roused us,” he answered in a voice lower than a whisper. “Said he woke up in time to see a horse galloping away. Thought there were two people on it, but it was too far to tell for sure. Then he got up to check on the women and realized Emma was missing.”

“I don’t know what woke you,” Luke told Jonas, “but I thank God for whatever it was.”

The Amish man’s response was quietly certain. “The source, I know.”

Luke didn’t have any trouble believing the Lord capable of kicking a man awake at the right time. After all, if He could arrange to have a man tossed out of a saloon in time to lend aid to a stranded Amish family, why not?

“Gather close.” The men urged their horses together. Luke looked them each in the eye. Griff, the seasoned cowboy. Charlie, who had shot his first man just this morning. Morris, the quiet flank rider. And Jonas, the man who wore his faith as openly as he wore his bushy beard and funny hat.

Lord, keep them all safe. And help us get Emma out of there unharmed.

“Here’s what we’re dealing with. The herd is bedded down, and the rustlers haven’t mounted a watch. They are holding Emma in their camp near the entrance to the bowl.”

Charlie’s gaze fixed on the ridge. “Could we stampede the herd? Come in from behind and run the cattle right over the top of them?”

“Not a bad idea,” Griff said. “We spread out and charge in from all directions.”

Luke shook his head. “I watched the herd for a few minutes, and I didn’t see a single one stir. In the time it takes to wake them enough to get to their feet and stampede, Emma might be in real trouble.”

Jonas’s expression was no longer impassive. His lips were set in a grim line, and tension had stiffened his back until he sat like a petrified log in the saddle. Fear for his daughter glinted in his dark eyes.

Luke knew how he felt.

“Surprise is a good thought, though.” He nodded at Charlie. “The way things are situated, there’s only one option. We have to catch them off guard so they don’t have an opportunity to use her as cover.”

Morris saw where he was going. “Either we charge in and hope to surprise them, or we sneak up on them.”

Though Luke would much rather end the situation without bloodshed, if he had to go charging into the camp firing his rifle, he’d do it in a second. As long as he could be sure of Emma’s safety.

He closed his eyes, picturing the camp. “Without even a chuck wagon to hide behind, sneaking up on them is going to be hard. On the other hand, I did see some good-sized rocks on some of those hillsides. We might get close enough on foot to take them by surprise.” He glanced upward to search the sky, hoping to spot a large cloud in the path of the moon to give them some cover. He found a few, but would they offer enough protection? “I think charging them might be the best solution.”

Jonas shook his head. “You Englisch. Always barging in with a fight. Always deceiving. ‘Deception is a strong pepper that burns the speaker’s tongue, not the listener’s.’ Honesty and openness are the best approach in all things.”

Charlie reared back in the saddle to give him a shocked look. “Are you suggesting we march in there and tell them we’ve come to get your daughter and would they please hand her over without a fuss?”

Jonas nodded, his expression solemn. “That I will do.”

Griff and Morris laughed, but something in Jonas’s expression made Luke pause. An idea occurred to him.

“Wait a minute,” he said slowly. “You’re talking about creating a distraction. You’ll approach their camp from one side and draw their attention while we sneak up from the other side and get Emma.”

Again, Jonas nodded. “My beliefs prevent me from taking up arms against any man, but words are powerful. I will use my words and leave the weapons to you.”

A reckless hope stole over Luke as he pictured the plan unfolding.

It just might work.