The Heart's Frontier

TWENTY-TWO





When the torrent of tears slowed, Emma became aware of Luke’s arms around her. Warmth rushed from her head to her toes, partly from the pleasure of breathing in the earthy, wholesome scent that clung to him, but mostly from embarrassment. What an unseemly show of emotion. If her neighbors back in Apple Grove heard that she’d thrown herself into a man’s embrace, she would be the subject of shocked gossip for weeks. Public displays of emotion were not encouraged among the Amish. Papa and Mama, whose love for one another radiated from their eyes, had rarely touched in front of Emma, even within the privacy of their own home.

Her face flamed as she stepped away, and she could not bring herself to meet his gaze. “Thank you for saving me.”

“And thank you, little gal.” Griff approached from behind her. “I had one foot inside the Pearly Gates until you sprang into action.”

Emma could find no words to reply. She had attacked a man. Not with a weapon, but by using her body as a battering ram. Of course, if she hadn’t acted Griff would be dead. She looked at Earl, whose hands were being tied by Morris, and then at the still unconscious form of Lester. Beyond them lay the bodies of the two rustlers who had been killed because of her foolish behavior, sneaking off into the night and getting herself kidnapped.

What lay heavy on her soul, though, was the fact that she couldn’t find it in herself to feel sorry for them. Nor for her act of violence in order to save Griff’s life.

Papa approached them, his chest heaving from his sprint down the hillside. Never had she been so glad to hear a voice in her entire life as when his rang out in the night. The urge to throw her arms around him and sob was strong, but she knew he would not appreciate such an emotional display, and she had embarrassed herself enough for one night.

He ran up to her, and before she realized what he intended, he gathered her into a strong embrace. “Emma.” His rough beard pressed against her cheek. “My Emma. You are safe.”

The embrace lasted only a moment, and then Papa pulled back, his hands clutching her arms below the shoulders. Stunned, she searched his face and was astonished to see tears glistening in his eyes. Papa, her Papa, who never cried.

His face blurred as salty moisture filled her own eyes. “Papa, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I attacked someone. I committed violence against another human being.”

Luke let out an exclamation. “You’re kidding, right? These men kidnapped you. They have stolen from who knows how many people, including your own family. They killed two of my men and were about to kill more. You saved Griff’s life, Emma. How can that be wrong?”

Anger licked at the confusion obvious on his face. Emma searched for words, but how could she explain the Amish belief of nonresistance? Especially when his question stirred up so much confusion inside her. How could saving a life be wrong? Killing was wrong; she knew that. But surely acting in defense of another wasn’t wrong. If she had to choose again, she would do exactly the same as before. And therein lay the source of her guilt.

Papa had mastered his tears and answered Luke’s question. “Christ did not resist, even unto death.” He looked into Emma’s face. “We both have things to discuss with Bishop Miller when we return to Apple Grove, daughter.”

Emma glanced at the unconscious form of her kidnapper and shivered. No matter what the bishop said, she would not be sorry for the mighty bash to the head Luke had given the man. She supposed she’d have to confess that to Bishop Miller too.

But to her father she merely replied, “Yes, Papa.”





During the uproar, the cattle’s nervousness had increased. The bowl-like shape of the surrounding ridge had kept most of them contained, but about a third had found a way over the hills on the opposite side from the pass and escaped into the night. The rest huddled together, stamping their hooves and uttering uneasy calls to one another.

Once the two remaining rustlers were bound securely and roped to their horses, Luke instructed Charlie and Morris to take them, along with Emma and Jonas, back to camp.

“You want us to drive these along with us?” Charlie gestured to the press of cattle.

Luke shook his head and then jerked a nod in the direction of the bound rustlers. “Let’s get those two back to camp first. They’ll be watching for you to get distracted, and I don’t want to give them a chance to escape. I’m going to enjoy handing them over to the sheriff in Hays.” He glared toward Lester, who had regained consciousness and was littering the air with foul curses about the pain in his head and the indignity of being tied sideways on his horse. “Wake Jesse up and tell him to watch them. Then get back here as quick as you can. Griff and I will round up the strays, as long as they haven’t run far, and meet you back here.”

Looked like sleep wasn’t going to happen tonight. By the time they got this rustled herd back to camp and combined with the others, there were likely to only be a couple of hours before daybreak. Not worth the trouble of getting back on his bedroll.

“Got it, boss.” Charlie and Morris headed for their horses.

The assignments taken care of, Luke turned to Jonas and Emma, who stood side-by-side next to Jonas’s horse. The sight of her downcast head stirred up a storm of conflicting emotions. She actually looked as though she felt guilty for being rescued. What was wrong with this woman? Didn’t she realize how close she’d come to—He shook off the images that had plagued him from the moment he saw her being hauled into the rustlers’ camp. The idea that she’d committed some sort of wrongdoing by knocking a man off his feet when he was about to shoot a friend was so foreign to Luke’s thinking he couldn’t get his mind around it. The whole thing made him angry.

“Charlie and Morris will make sure you get back safely. This horse can ride double, no problem.”

Jonas stepped forward and extended a hand. “Once again, the Lord has used you to help my family.”

Luke stared at the outstretched hand for a moment. Jonas’s beliefs might be a little more than he could handle, but Luke couldn’t help respecting the man. He lived what he talked.

He clasped the work-roughened hand. “The diversion was your idea. A good one too.”

A step sideways and he stood in front of Emma. “Here. Let me help you up.”

As he stooped to clasp his hands for her to step into, he realized she was not wearing Jonas’s trousers. She must have taken them off before going to sleep. Instead, he placed his hands around her middle to lift her up into the saddle. His fingers circled her waist, which was much tinier beneath that bulky black dress than he’d realized. Her arms rose and she placed her hands on his shoulders, lifting her head as she did so. Her face was mere inches from his. Twin moons reflected in the eyes that searched his, and glowed on the even white teeth he glimpsed between her parted lips. Anger evaporated, replaced by the almost overpowering urge to pull her close and cover her mouth with his. The memory of her arms around him when she was rescued returned so strongly his hands trembled at her waist.

Beside them, Jonas cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to another.

Exercising a will he didn’t know he possessed, Luke lifted her up into the saddle. Before he released her, she spoke, her voice low and earnest. “I’m sorry I acted foolishly by leaving the camp and putting everyone in danger.”

So that was the cause for her guilt. She felt responsible. Sort of like he’d felt responsible for Willie’s and Kirk’s deaths yesterday. Well, and in a way, she was.

“Why did you do that, Emma? You’re not usually reckless.”

Her eyes flickered sideways, toward Jonas, before returning to his. She spoke in a whisper so low he almost didn’t hear. “I wanted to talk to you alone.”

She removed her hands from his shoulders and leaned back, balancing her weight on the horse’s back. Luke couldn’t tear his gaze away as he stepped back to let Jonas mount. A girl sneaking away from her family to meet up with him in the middle of the night? Jesse would rib him forever if he found out.

But this wasn’t any girl. This was Emma.

Jonas dug his heels in, and the horse trotted away. Charlie and Morris, each leading a second horse with a prisoner lying crosswise over the saddle, fell in behind them. Luke watched until they entered the pass and disappeared behind the hills.

Griff came up beside him leading their horses. He tossed Whitey’s reins at Luke’s chest. “We’d best get to rounding up those strays.”

Luke tore his gaze away from the empty pass to find Griff grinning at him. The old cowboy pushed his hat back on his forehead. “Women, huh? There’s no figuring them.”

“Especially that one,” Luke said as he swung himself up into the saddle.