The Heart's Frontier

TWENTY-THREE





The human component of the camp was awake when Emma and Papa arrived. The campfire blazed as bright flames licked the sky. Emma caught sight of Maummi’s familiar form stooped beside it. Rebecca stood in the back of the wagon, dwarfed by the hutch that loomed over her. As Emma watched, her sister caught sight of them and began jumping, her hands waving in the air. A whoop of joy reached Emma’s ears as Rebecca leaped over the side of the wagon and ran to meet them.

“You found her! Oh, Papa, I prayed you would find her, and you have!”

Papa halted the horse with a gentle pull on the reins. For a long moment, his arms remained in place, one before and one behind Emma, holding her securely on the horse’s back. The ride had been made in silence, and Emma fretted that he was angry. Doubtless he had heard her words to Luke and was scandalized that his daughter had crept away to meet a man in the night. Explanations formed in her mind, words that would convince him that there was no sin in her intent, but she hadn’t the nerve to speak, and even came to dread the moment when he would.

“Thanks be to God,” he said.

In that moment, while his strong arms formed a safe barrier around her, she felt a tremor in his muscles that she knew was not anger. He was deeply glad to have her restored to him. She leaned her weight against his arm in a private embrace.

Then he released the reins, dismounted, and raised his hands to assist her. Emotion washed over her as she leaned over and entrusted her weight to Papa. Different feelings than when Luke’s hands had grasped her waist bubbled up within her, but joyful just the same.

The minute her feet touched the ground, Rebecca caught her in an uninhibited hug, bouncing in a circle that would surely have set their Amish neighbors buzzing with disapproval. For the second time today, Emma shocked herself with the realization that she didn’t care what her Amish district would say, which was surely a sinful attitude. Regardless, she returned her sister’s embrace with enthusiasm.

When Rebecca released her, she looked into Maummi’s impassive countenance.

“We are glad for your safe return, granddaughter.” Her face came close and she spoke in a low voice that was heavy with emotion that did not show on her face. “You are unharmed?”

The question sent a rush of love through Emma’s chest. Those who thought her grandmother gruff and uncaring didn’t know her at all. “All but my pride at having my foolish behavior made public.”

“Eh.” Maummi dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “‘Pluck a proud peacock and he looks like a turkey ready for the pot.’”

Emma laughed. Maummi’s unending store of proverbs and wise sayings sometimes irritated her, but at this moment she would relish a whole sermon full. And she did feel a little like a plucked peacock reduced to turkey status.

“What is this?” The wise gaze slid to a point behind Emma’s head, to where Charlie and Morris approached with their charges.

“These are the low-down, good-for-nothing rustlers who took Emma,” Charlie said, with a jerk on the reins of the horse he led. “What’s left of them, anyway.”

A commotion in the wagon drew their attention to Jesse, who was trying to struggle to his feet. “Bring them over here so I can wring a couple of scrawny necks.”

Maummi pointed a commanding finger at him. “Down with you! Would you undo all the good the day’s rest has brought?”

Morris respectfully took his hat off to address Maummi. “Uh, ma’am? Luke sent word to have Jesse guard these two prisoners while Charlie and me go back to help bring up the rest of the herd. Would that be okay?”

With a regal dip of her head, Maummi consented. “He can do that while sitting.”

Emma hung back while the rustlers were lowered from their horses, seated on the ground, and tied back-to-back. Maummi instructed that her rocking chair be placed nearby, along with a crate from the wagon to prop up Jesse’s injured leg.

“Move that chair a little closer,” Jesse directed from the back of the wagon. He drew his pistol and pointed it at the bound pair, squinting to line up the sights. “And put their hats on their heads. I might take a notion to have me a little target practice, and I’m not too good a shot at night.”

Lester scowled, but Emma couldn’t help grinning at the wide eyes and audible gulp from Earl. She was fairly certain Jesse was only joking and wouldn’t really shoot the hats off their heads.

When Charlie and Morris rode off to help Luke and Griff bring in the other cows, Papa mounted his horse and quietly announced that he would lend a hand helping McCann and Vic guard the herd. Apparently no one was interested in sleeping. Maummi disappeared around the back of their wagon, and shortly Emma heard the scrape of items being slid across the wooden bed.

Rebecca resumed her favorite activity—mooning over Jesse. She hovered beside his chair.

“Is your leg comfortable? I can bring a quilt to cushion that crate if you want.”

Emma started to protest. The only quilt they had was Mama’s, and that was not coming out of the chest until they got back home and it could be returned to its place on her bed.

Jesse shook his head. “I don’t want a quilt.”

From the ground Earl spoke up. “I’ll take a quilt. This ground’s a might hard.”

Rebecca cast a startled glance at him, and Jesse raised his pistol in a threatening manner. “You shut up. You don’t get a quilt or a blanket or anything else. You’re lucky you get to breathe.”

The man fell silent. Rebecca stood with her hands clasped behind her back, staring at Jesse’s profile.

“Would you like a drink of water? I can fetch you one.”

He rolled his eyes. “Isn’t it past your bedtime or something?”

“Rebecca.” Maummi’s sharp voice called from behind the wagon. “Help me here.”

A loud sigh of relief sounded from Jesse when Rebecca reluctantly obeyed. He cast a scowling glance after her. “I don’t know what I did to attract that girl’s attention, but if somebody would tell me, I promise I’ll never do it again.”

Emma gave him a sympathetic smile. “She is young and has not known many Englisch men.”

He gave her a sideways scowl. “Yeah, well you Aim-ish should get out more. Then you wouldn’t be so apt to fall for the first cowhand who comes along.”

His words tossed icy water into Emma’s soul, and her smile melted. Was he talking about Rebecca or about her? Surely he wasn’t saying she went about mooning after Luke the way Rebecca showered attention on him. Or was he?

And more importantly, was he right?

Apparently she’d made a fool of herself by staring at Luke, watching the easy way he rode and admiring his profile when she was sure he wasn’t aware. Did he think of her the way Jesse obviously thought of Rebecca, as a child and a nuisance?

Face flaming, she whirled on her foot and went to help Maummi and Rebecca.





Though the sun was not yet in evidence, the eastern sky was a lighter blue than the western half by the time Emma spotted a herd of cattle heading in their direction. Before she could stop herself, she searched the mounted riders until she spotted Luke’s familiar figure atop a white horse that reflected the predawn light. Then she remembered her resolve. She would not humiliate herself and her family by mooning after him like a lovesick youth. With deliberate resolve she turned her back to the approaching group and bent over the cook fire, feigning indifference. She did peek behind every so often, but only to watch the convergence of the two herds.

The approach of the new cattle caused a stir among the existing ones. As the lead steers came into sight, the sleeping herd awoke and staggered to its feet. Luke and the other wranglers rode into the fray to break up confrontations before they gave way to aggression. The men worked as a team, even Papa, by forming a constantly moving barrier around the whole, gently but firmly urging them to spread out into the sweet green grass that surrounded their bedding ground. By the time the first rays of light streaked into the sky from the still-hidden sun, the two herds had merged into one and set about grazing peacefully side by side.

The riders approached camp at a gallop. McCann broke off when the others headed for the remuda to turn in their tired horses. He came straight to the chuck wagon.

“Whew, what a night,” he called toward Jesse as he dismounted. “Been a while since I spent that much time in a saddle. I’ve got to get some breakfast going to feed this—”

He stopped short when he caught sight of Maummi, who knelt on the other side of the fire pit from Emma, flipping hotcakes on a griddle.

Bushy eyebrows dropped down to rest on his eyelids. “What in tarnation’s going on here?”

Maummi slid a long-handled spatula beneath a hotcake and tossed it on top of a giant stack being kept warm on a flat rock. “You helped with the cows. I helped with the breakfast.” She switched her attention to a pan full of sizzling bacon without looking up.

Emma stirred the bubbling pot in front of her, decided the apples were ready, and swung the arm to move it out of the direct heat. She felt the cook’s stare burning into her, but she couldn’t meet his eye. In this case, she would take the coward’s way out and leave him to Maummi’s capable handling.

“Hey!” He stabbed a finger toward the extra-long griddle. “That’s mine. And that turning fork’s mine too. You’ve been in my chuck wagon!”

He turned and ran toward his wagon. Maummi picked up a metal plate, loaded it high with hotcakes and bacon, and then ladled gooey sweet apples overtop. She took it to Jesse’s chair and thrust it in his hands.

“Eat.” The command was issued with a stern stare that no one would dare defy. Then she turned and issued another command to Emma and Rebecca. “Ready the plates.”

Morris and Charlie were still out with the herd, but the rest of the men approached the camp as McCann charged out of the chuck wagon. He glared at Maummi and then ran over to thrust his purple face into Luke’s.

“That woman”—he pointed backward at Maummi—“went into my chuck wagon. She went through my fixins’ and used my pans.” He drew himself stiffly upright to announce her ultimate sin. “She cleaned.”

In light of her recent realization, Emma couldn’t bring herself to look directly at Luke, but she tensed, waiting for his response.

“Dirt is a poor seasoning,” Maummi commented mildly as she layered a stack of hotcakes onto a plate.

Every eye was fixed on Luke. He opened his mouth, but his response was preempted by Jesse, who had shoveled in a forkful of hotcakes. “Mm-mmm! You gotta try these, Luke. You never tasted hotcakes like these.” Cheeks bulging, he chewed with happy abandon.

Emma held a loaded plate in her hands. She shoved it toward Rebecca with a whispered, “Take this to Luke, quick.”

Rebecca did, delivering the plate with a curtsey. Looking a little sheepish, Luke sliced off a bite and shoved it in his mouth. His expression transformed to one of bliss.

“Have you tried this?” he demanded of McCann when he had relished the bite and swallowed.

McCann drew himself stiffly upright, sputtering. “Don’t make no difference what—”

“Hey, give me some.” Charlie approached Emma, his expression eager. “The front of my stomach’s gnawing on the back, it’s so empty.”

Emma ladled a heaping portion of sweet, thick apples over a stack of cakes and handed it to him. He shoved a steaming bite into his mouth and then went into ecstasies of delight.

“Them’s the best hotcakes I ever ate, ma’am.” He ducked his head toward Maummi before taking his plate to a spot near the wagon and sinking to the ground to enjoy his breakfast.

“I’m up for more.” Jesse half turned in his chair to hold his empty plate out in an appeal. “I need my strength to rebuild this bone, you know.”

McCann glowered all around as the rest of the crew settled into their breakfast. Emma speared a few chunks of bacon out of the pan to finish off a cake-filled plate and took it to him. She offered it with a quick smile.

“Humph.” He grumbled as he took it and turned away from the fire to try the first bite.

Maummi flipped another hotcake on the griddle and pretended not to watch for his reaction. Emma couldn’t be so nonchalant. She saw his expression change from angry to skeptical, and then relax into amazement as he chewed. By the time he swallowed, she knew he’d been won over. And no wonder. Maummi wasn’t known as the best cook in Apple Grove for nothing.

“Hey, what about us?” The shout came from one of the rustlers tied up in the middle of the clearing. “You gonna let us starve while you stand there shoveling food in your faces?”

“Shut up,” Jesse said. “You’re lucky I don’t blow your Adam’s apple out of your throat.”

Papa, who had been standing quietly off to the side, took a step toward Luke. “An Amish proverb teaches ‘Be kind to unkind people. They probably need kindness the most.’”

Spouting proverbs was Maummi’s exclusive domain. Papa rarely weighed in with a wise saying from the deep store that had instructed him his whole life. That he did so now spoke to the strength of his convictions in this situation. Though Emma knew full well he condemned the rustlers’ actions, his compassion for them overrode his condemnation. The Lord would have them feed the hungry, regardless of their sins. Love for her father washed over her like a strong, refreshing breeze on a hot summer day. She caught her breath, waiting for Luke’s response.

His gaze sought hers. “What do you think, Emma?”

He was deferring to her opinion? These were the men who had kidnapped her, and before that they had stolen her family’s belongings. But she could only spare thoughts for Luke. He sought her opinion. Warmth spread through her stomach, and looking away felt like ripping her eyes out of their sockets. But she managed to nod and focus on the task at hand, filling two plates with food.

“Untie one hand each,” Luke told Charlie. “We’re not the barbarians they are.” Then he pointed a fork at Jesse. “But watch them while they eat. If they make a move, you know what to do.”

Jesse grinned and patted the pistol that rested in his lap. “Oh, yeah.”

When Emma had handed two full plates to Charlie for delivery to their prisoners, McCann sidled up to the fire where Maummi stood, an empty plate in his hand. He shuffled his feet and blustered for a moment before he managed to speak.

“I don’t like people going through my things.” His voice growled. “But those were the best hotcakes I ever ate. And I don’t know what you did to those apples on top, but I could eat a whole pot of ’em by themselves.”

Maummi busied her hands with pulling the hot griddle off the coals and setting it aside to cool. “That’s a nice griddle,” she admitted, nodding toward it. “A good cook arms himself with good tools.”

Emma nearly choked. That was as close to a compliment as Maummi was likely to give.

McCann cleared his throat. “We’re going to be pushing hard today. By the time we stop tonight, the men are liable to have a roaring appetite. I’d appreciate a hand rustling up the evening meal, if you’ve a mind.”

She cast a narrow-eyed sideways look up at him. “Too many cooks in a kitchen step on each other’s toes.”

For a moment, Emma thought she’d pushed him too far. He drew himself upright, glanced down at the steaming pot of stewed apples, and then let out a breath. “Then it’s a good thing we have the whole outdoors to cook in. Plenty of space for both of us.”

A smile twitched Maummi’s lips as she scraped the scraps from the skillet. She gave a curt nod. “A good thing indeed.”

Emma released her breath. A compromise reached, and a hesitant partnership formed. She found herself looking forward to whatever concoction the two of them paired up to create this evening.

As the men scraped their plates clean, Luke sidled up to the fire to stand beside her. “Are you and your sister planning to lend a hand with the herd today?”

She concentrated on her empty plate. Better to avoid eye contact than to turn an embarrassingly adoring gaze on him. “Do you need us?”

“It’s going to be a hard day.” His answer was vague, as though he didn’t want to impose.

Charlie approached to hand her his empty plate, and she smiled her thanks to him. When she turned from setting it in the dishpan near her feet, Luke grabbed her hand, forcing her to look up at him.

“I need you,” he said, his voice low and insistent.

A storm erupted inside her rib cage. From the delving gaze that bore into hers, she knew he referred to more than his need for another cowhand for his expanded herd. Somewhere behind her, she was aware that Papa watched, his stare a weight that dragged her soaring heart back to the ground.

She snatched her hand away and busied herself with the dishes. “If you need us, Luke, then of course we will help.”

He didn’t move but stood silently beside her, watching her work. Maybe he was listening to the thudding of her heart, which pounded in her ears like Indian war drums. He stood so close she could smell the earthy scent that clung to him, and the memory of his hands at her waist as he lifted her onto Papa’s horse snatched at her breath.

After an eternity he moved away, leaving the air around her somehow colder.

When he spoke again, his voice projected to everyone in the area. “We’ve expanded our herd by almost a third, and we’re behind schedule. I figure if we push them hard until midday and then stop for a rest, we’ll be able to go on tonight until after sundown. What do you think, Griff?”

Emma glanced toward the old cowhand, who had seated himself against a wagon wheel and was taking his time polishing off his breakfast. “If we call a stop near a good watering hole, they’ll do fine.”

“That ought to put us in Hays tomorrow afternoon. If all goes well we won’t miss the train.”

If all goes well. Buried in those words Emma heard a lot of doubt, a lot of worry. Luke’s reputation as a trail boss rested on their ability to get this herd there on time. In fact, if he showed up with seven hundred more cows than he started with, and a couple of rustlers in the bargain, surely that would look good. He would have no problems getting more jobs as a trail boss. If he misses that train, though... Emma refused to let herself complete the thought, but it danced a tantalizing jig in her mind.

Surely life as an Amish farmer was better than life as an unemployed cowboy.

“All right, then,” Luke said. “Vic will wrangle the remuda. Morris and Rebecca will ride flank on that side”—he pointed east—“with Griff and Emma opposite.” He speared Charlie and Papa with a sympathetic grimace. “That makes you two the drag riders.”

“What about me? A day and a night is plenty of time to rest this leg.” Jesse made as though to get up from the chair, his face a mask of ill-concealed pain. “Bring my horse alongside the wagon so’s I can get on him.”

Maummi stiffened, her eyes throwing darts across the camp. Before she could speak, though, Luke answered.

“You’re not riding anything but that wagon until the doctor in Hays checks you out. But you have an important job making sure those two don’t cause any trouble today.” He jerked his head toward their prisoners. “If they try anything, you don’t need a good leg to fire a gun.”

Appeased, Jesse fixed his charges with a cold smile and patted the pistol in his lap.

Luke took a final look around. “Let’s break camp and get at it.”

His words spurred everyone into action. The men began readying the wagons to leave. Griff, empty plate in hand, swung wide so his path would take him by the fire, where Maummi crouched beside the long iron griddle, scraping it clean.

“Ma’am, that was the best meal I’ve had in years. Maybe ever.”

Maummi inclined her head like a queen accepting her due. “Danki.”

Griff didn’t move on. Instead, he shuffled his weight from one foot to the next and glanced around the area. His gaze settled on Emma for a moment, the only person close enough to hear his words.

He cleared his throat and watched the coals in the cook fire as he spoke. “Ma’am, I’ve spent almost twenty years in the saddle. I figure I’ve got a few good ones left in me, but a man can’t run cattle forever. Someday he has to hang up his spurs.”

Emma couldn’t agree more. She hoped Luke didn’t want to stretch his trail driving days out for twenty years.

Stooping on the ground beside the fire, Maummi turned her head to look up at him sideways, the creases between her eyes clearly urging him to get to the point and let her get on with her work.

Griff cleared his throat again. “And when he does, it sure does help if he has a good woman waiting for him at home. Now, I never had time for a wife, but if I quit the trail, I’d want to find me a woman with some spunk in her. One who speaks her piece.” He toed a good-sized rock into the fire, his gaze fixed on his boot. “One who can cook.”

His meaning stole across Emma, leaving her numb. No, surely she was mistaken. Was Griff asking to court her grandmother? But, Maummi was sixty years old! Of course, Griff was probably close to the same age.

“Anyway, I do have a few good years left in me,” he repeated. “Something for you to think about.”

With an awkward movement, he thrust his fork and empty plate toward Emma and then strode away quickly, like a man bent on escape. Still crouching on the ground, Maummi’s mouth gaped open as she stared after him.

It was the first time in her life Emma could remember seeing her grandmother rendered speechless.