The Heart's Frontier

EIGHT





By the time Luke and Bo led the procession back to the herd, the sun had sunk midway in the sky toward the western horizon. The oxen proved to be a docile pair and followed alongside the small cart they had hired without much prodding. Jonas perched on the narrow bench alongside the blacksmith’s son, who had been recruited to help unload and then return the cart home. The female Switzers perched in the back amid their newly purchased provisions. Though he’d tried to catch Emma’s eye a couple of times, she’d kept her focus on overseeing the loading and her head turned away from him since they started.

All for the better, as far as Luke was concerned. A whole day wasted on good deeds was time enough. He’d been hired to do a job, and he intended to see it done sooner rather than later.

They arrived to find last night’s campsite deserted. Luke scanned the rolling hills on the far side of the wide river for signs of the herd and saw none. Good. Jesse had taken the initiative and led them on. But he didn’t like the looks of a dark cluster of clouds gathering to the northwest.

“We’ll need to cross here.” He raised his voice to be heard over the sound of the running water. “Jesse scouted ahead this morning and said there’s no good place to ford up ahead.”

In fact, the water looked a bit deeper than it had earlier, and the current a touch stronger. That storm must be dumping a load of rain upstream.

“Is our wagon nearby?” Jonas asked.

Luke pointed. “About a half mile that way. Jesse said it was on the far bank.” He’d also said it was mired to the axle, but Luke didn’t see the need to remind Jonas of that at the moment. He’d see for himself soon enough.

Herding the oxen through the water proved to be an easy task. Luke rode around the cart and came up behind them, and with almost no effort they obediently splashed across with no problem and continued along the herd’s trail as obediently as a couple of well-trained dogs.

Bo was a little more hesitant. He wasn’t overly fond of water. Luke had a swimming horse he used for deeper crossings, but of course the remuda was with the herd, with any luck miles away from here.

Bo stepped gingerly across the sandy river bottom, coaxed by Luke’s gentle clucking. The kid driving the cart had obviously spent some time on the trail with this rig, because he urged his mule forward with an expert flick of the rope. When Luke reached the bank on the other side, he stopped on the grass and watched as the cart rocked on its way across. In the back, the girls pulled their feet up into the bed to keep from getting wet. Emma leaned over to look into the water, the laces from her cap dangling over the side. In only a few minutes, the cart was up the narrow bank and onto dry ground. All in all, it was one of the easier crossings he’d seen on this drive.

The signs of the herd’s passing were impossible to overlook. The ground had been well grazed and trampled dry. Luke instructed the boy on the approximate location of the Switzers’ wagon and then rode on. Bo stretched his legs, and the trampled trail sped by beneath them. Luke let him have his head, enjoying the steady pounding of hooves against dirt, accompanied by the sound of running water at their side.

A tickle of disquiet disturbed his solitude when the feel of the wind blowing in his face changed. The rich, wild scent of distant rain tinted the air. As long as the storm carried only rain, the herd wouldn’t pose a problem. But all too often storms along the plains were accompanied by fierce lightning and thunder, and that’s what startled the beef into a stampede two nights ago. Once a stampede occurred, cattle remained jittery and prone to stampede again for days or even weeks afterward. Another stampede would put them in risk of missing their deadline.

Bo galloped up over a swell in the land, and Luke’s feelings of disquiet deepened. Not a mile ahead he caught sight of the tail end of a herd. He’d have to wait until he was closer to spot the Triple Bar brand, but he felt sure these were his cattle. Jesse and the others must have waited around for him after fording the river because they had only gained a few miles all day.

The numb wits! Why didn’t they push on?

Immediately, his irritation fled. Luke had no one to blame but himself. The task of leading the herd didn’t fall to Jesse. He was the trail boss. The decision of when to move and when to tarry fell on Luke’s shoulders alone. And he hadn’t been here to direct them.

He caught sight of a cluster of horses and riders at the river’s edge up ahead. Hard to tell at this distance, but he thought they might be his men or it could be the location of Jonas’s wagon. He urged Bo into a faster pace.

When he arrived he found Jesse, Willie, Charlie, and Griff wet to the skin and covered in mud. They stood on the shore staring down at the Switzers’ wagon. Luke took in the problem in an instant. Two of the wagon’s wheels had made it up to the bank after crossing the river, though one rested in a muddy low rut. The back wheels were still partly immersed in mucky water, one deeper than the other. In the back of the wagon rested the biggest piece of furniture he’d ever seen. His ma used to have a hutch similar to this one, but only about half this size. Mrs. Switzer’s piece leaned at a precarious angle in the tilted wagon. A large trunk sat beside it, up toward the front of the wagon bed.

Jesse broke away from the others and approached when he rode up. Water plastered his shirt to his body, and his boots made an unpleasant squishing noise with each step. After a quick glance at the fury in his face, Luke decided to keep his seat and speak to his friend from a safe distance on horseback.

“That…thing!” Jesse spouted, waving a finger behind him in the direction of the wagon. “It weighs a thousand pounds. There’s no way that wagon’s coming out of the river with that monstrous chunk of oak inside.”

The others trailed over, looking as wet and bedraggled. Charlie affirmed Jesse’s opinion. “The back wheels are mired pretty deep, boss, one worse than the other. I think the axle might have cracked too.”

Luke looked past them, where the water lapped at the lowest boards at the rear of the wagon. Jesse might be exaggerating the weight of that hutch, but not by much if Luke was any judge. It looked to be solid oak, which meant the weight was probably close to six hundred pounds. If the wagon’s axle was broken, Jonas would have a hard time fixing it with the hutch inside. No way would he be able to unload and reload it by himself, or even get it out of the river on his own.

A thought occurred to Luke. He glanced behind him. The Switzers were not yet in sight. What if he left now, before they arrived? He’d done all he promised. Getting their wagon unstuck wasn’t his responsibility. When they got here they would find their hutch, and Luke would have done his duty.

Even as he considered giving his men the order to mount up and head out, he knew he couldn’t do it.

The sooner I get them on their way, the sooner I can get on mine.

“Where have you been, anyway?” Griff squinted suspiciously up at him. “Back in Gorham all this time?”

“I’ll tell you where he’s been.” Jesse unwrapped his bandana from his neck and made a show of squeezing out a stream of water. “He’s spent the day playing guardian angel to a bunch of Aim-ish people.”

He was standing beside Bo’s withers. Luke considered taking his boot out of the stirrup and awarding him a well-placed kick for his ornery tone. Instead, he affirmed the words with a nod at Griff and the others. “A man and three women. Bandits stole their belongings early yesterday and left them without a thing. I’m trying to see that they get where they’re going.”

The old man studied him a moment and then said, “Never hurts to do a good turn.” He gave Jesse a hard stare and then let his gaze sweep Charlie and Willie. “A man will never get anywhere in this world if he won’t lend a hand now and then. See that you boys remember that.”

Now it was Jesse’s turn to scowl, and Luke had to bite back a smile when he slapped his wet bandana against his thigh and stomped away toward his horse.

Luke dismounted. “The family will be along in a few minutes with a pair of oxen and a fresh load of supplies. The way I see it, the faster we get this wagon pulled out, the sooner we’ll be on our way.” He glanced at the young drag rider. “Willie, ride on up ahead to the chuck wagon and tell McCann we need a couple of coils of that thick rope he’s got. Maybe we can pull it out with horse power. Be quick, hear?”

Willie nodded and sprinted for his horse.

Jesse shouted toward Luke without bothering to look up from where he fiddled in his saddlebag. “That was my next suggestion!”

Luke exchanged a grin with Charlie and Griff. “I’m sure it was. If you’re looking for dry clothes in there, don’t bother. We’re not done with this yet.”

He watched Willie’s horse skirt past a couple of dozen head of cattle and then gallop toward the main part of the herd. Stragglers, about a hundred or so, milled around the area, their pace slowed without drag riders nudging them ahead. They had spread out in search of fresh grass farther than he liked.

“Griff, would you and Charlie head over that way and round up those cattle?” He pointed toward the hill. “Bring them back this way in case we need your horses to help haul this thing out of here, and then we’ll hurry them along toward the herd together.”

When they had gone, Luke found a dry spot to sit and started tugging off his boots. Now that they were alone, Jesse joined him.

“I had a feeling you’d get held up back there this morning.” He followed Luke’s lead and tugged off first one already soggy boot and then the other. “I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Luke pulled off his socks and stuffed them down in his boots. “You did. And I owe you a steak dinner when we get to Hays, like I promised.” There. That was as close to you were right as he was willing to go.

He stripped off his shirt and spoke without looking at his friend. “Tell me something. Are you carrying a grudge against Amish people in general, or is it the Switzers in particular?”

The answer came immediately. “I got no problems with those folks. It’s just that we’ve come a long way on this drive, and it’s gone pretty well so far. You have a lot riding on this job, Luke, and I don’t want to see you throw it away on a woman you can’t have.”

“What makes you think I’m going to throw anything away? Or that I want a woman? We’re three days out of Hays, and the train pulls out of there in five.” Jesse shot him a look, and he conceded the unspoken point with a nod. “Yeah, okay. I’d like to have a safer margin, but we’ll make it. That’s what counts.” Stripped down to his breeches, Luke stood and folded his clothes into a neat bundle. When he’d placed them on the dry ground near his boots, he turned to give Jesse a hand up.

Jesse took it and held on for a minute, meeting his friend’s eyes with a penetrating stare. “It’s more than that, Luke. I’ve known you a long time, and I can tell something’s been eating at you for the past few weeks.”

Luke fought the urge to look away from his searching gaze. “You’re always reading something into my actions. What am I guilty of now?”

“You’re quieter than when we started. Moodier. The men have noticed it too. You don’t talk much, and you haven’t joined in on singing around the campfire at night like you used to. Mostly you sit off by yourself.” He hefted himself to his feet.

Luke tried to shrug off the comment with a laugh. “Could be I’ve taken enough ribbing about my singing voice. A man can stand being likened to a bellowing calf only so long.”

Jesse didn’t laugh. “I’m trying to decide if you’re sorry you took this job. Maybe you only did it because it pleased your pa. Or maybe you’re fed up with trail life.”

Were his inner struggles that apparent? Luke bent down to retrieve his hat from the ground. The burden of responsibility had weighed heavily on him lately. Things always got dodgy at the end of a drive, when the men had been in the saddle for months with few breaks. Squabbles broke out, complaints about the food increased, and heated arguments about poker hands around the evening campfire flared up. Because it fell to him to mediate, it was natural that he’d feel these more strongly as the trail boss than as a hired hand.

But Jesse’s second guess hit close to home too. Luke’s thoughts had gravitated more and more often toward life off the cattle trail. What would it be like, to leave work every day and rest your head in your own bed?

Trail Boss. The words still brought a surge of pride. Pa had spent his life taking beef to market, and Luke had ridden beside him on many of those drives, but this was his first time as boss, and it didn’t feel as good as he thought it would. He wasn’t sure he liked the responsibility of men, cattle, and what happened to both in bad weather. He was starting to think he preferred the smell of fresh hay waving in the fields and rich fertile earth turned beneath a plow. On the other hand, if he failed this drive, Pa would skin him alive. His laugh this time sounded a little forced even to him. “Can’t see what that has to do with you not liking the Switzers.”

Jesse stooped, grabbed his shirt by the shoulders, and shook it out. Droplets of water sprayed onto the grass. “I don’t have anything against them personally. It just seems to me that when a man is struggling with something he can get distracted easier. And there’s nothing more distracting than a couple of helpless women, even if they are dressed like nuns.” He aimed a grin sideways. “I’d hate to see you quit and join up with the Aim-ish. You’d look stupid in the clothes.”

The sudden image made Luke laugh. He threw back his head and let the sounds of his mirth flow downstream across the running river.

When the moment passed, he felt better. Hours and hours in the saddle gave a man a lot of time to worry things over in his mind. Sometimes that was good, but at other times the worries swelled like an old woman’s ankles. Talking to a friend helped shrink them back down to size.

He clapped Jesse on the back. “You worry like a mother. My only thought right now is getting this herd to Hays on time. In order to do that, we need to haul this wagon out of the river.”

Then with a clear conscience, he’d leave the Switzers behind and get back on the trail.

Still dressed in denims and a Stetson.





NINE





The young Englisch boy driving their cart was apparently in a hurry and not afraid to push his mule. Emma clutched the side rails and held on as they bumped over the rough terrain. The ground beneath their feet bore thousands of hoof-shaped pits and gouges.

“There it is! Oh, my.”

Emma turned at Rebecca’s words, and followed the line of the river in front of them. She spotted the wagon easily, half in the water and leaning at an awkward angle. Maummi’s hutch was no longer covered but sat in the back, its polished finish gleaming warmly in the afternoon sunlight.

But the sun gleamed off more than the hutch. Three men stood on the shore, and two more in the water. The ones standing on the grass were dressed in vests and chaps and cowboy hats, but the two standing in waist-high water had stripped off their shirts. As they drew near, she recognized Luke and his saloon-loving friend. Spray from the river had wet their skin, and for a moment she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the sight of his glistening strong shoulders and broad chest.

“Ach!” Maummi’s cry rang in the air over the sound of the rushing river.

With a stab of guilt, Emma jerked her gaze away from Luke and turned a warm face toward her grandmother. Maummi’s mouth gaped, her lips moving soundlessly like a fish’s, her eyes round as wagon wheels. You’d think she never saw a bare-chested man before.

“Oh, my,” Rebecca’s repeated. Her eyes were nearly as round as Maummi’s, but the sudden flush that brightened her face bore the unmistakable stamp of delight.

“Rebecca.” Emma spoke her warning low as she fixed her sister with a hard stare. Better that than turn around again, where her gaze would be drawn to the water.

Even before the cart stopped moving, Maummi leaped down to the ground. She ran toward the cluster of cowboys at an astonishing speed, her apron strings trailing behind her. Emma hurried after her, her cheeks burning. Maummi would humiliate them all by scolding a group of grown men as though they were small boys for running around without shirts. She’d probably even come up with a proverb about nakedness.

A large number of cows hovered near the water’s edge, but Maummi ignored them. They skittered away when she ran by and came to a halt in front of the wagon. A stream of Pennsylvania Dutch words flew from her mouth, so quickly that even Emma had a hard time following. The cowboys nearby watched her, their expressions helpless.

Then Maummi found her Englisch tongue. “My hutch! Rescue for me my hutch, before the water takes it!”

For a moment Emma couldn’t respond. Apparently she hadn’t noticed the barely clothed men in the water. She had eyes only for her hutch. A nearly uncontrollable giggle tickled the back of Emma’s throat. When she was as old as Maummi, maybe she would focus more on furniture than handsome men, but that certainly hadn’t happened yet.

She snuck a quick glance, and the heat in her face intensified.

Her grandmother’s moan distracted her. “Made with my dearly departed’s own hands.”

Emma placed an arm across her shoulders. Being so upset couldn’t be good for her heart. “Calm down, Maummi. They will get the hutch.”

“We’re sure trying, ma’am.” The oldest of the three cowboys dipped his head in her direction. “So far we haven’t had much luck. The axle seems to be caught on a rock ledge or something down there.”

Papa arrived with Rebecca and their hired driver. He stood on the riverbank with his thumbs hooked behind his suspenders and his head tilted sideways, studying the wagon.

“The hutch is safe, I think, unless the entire wagon is washed away,” he told Maummi.

“Ach!” She raised a hand to cover her heart and wilted against Emma. “Forty years and not a scratch, only to lose it in the river.”

A splashing sound alerted her to the fact that Luke and Jesse were exiting the water. Emma mostly kept her gaze averted, but she couldn’t help another quick peek.

“Jonas, what say we put your new oxen to the test?”

A sloshing close by told her Luke had gained the shore. Oh, how she wanted to turn around and stare at him. Maummi’s saying repeated in her mind like a mantra. “‘Keep your eyes cast down until the Lord raises them.’” She knew for a fact that the Lord would not approve of her staring at Luke’s half-clad body, so she kept her back turned, standing in front of Maummi. Lord, lead me not into temptation.

Rebecca, on the other hand, openly gawked. Emma grabbed her by the arm and jerked her around. “Go help the boy unload our provisions.” She added an unmistakable command to her voice.

Her sister surprised her by obeying, though her gaze was so firmly fixed on Jesse and Luke as she wandered in the direction of the cart that she ran right into the hind end of a cow, which sent the poor beast into a sudden gallop.

Luke described his plan to Papa and the others. “There’s a narrow rocky ledge all the way across, which I figure is what the bandits tried to cross. But this side of it, the bottom’s nothing but sand and muck. That back wheel slipped off. We tried using a couple of horses to pull her free, but it’s stuck fast. The best I can tell, the axle is wedged on a rock outcropping. Not by much, but enough. If we’re lucky, it’s not cracked.”

“Please,” Maummi intoned in a loud voice, “no cracks.”

Emma placed a hand on each of her grandmother’s upper arms and squeezed comfortingly. An odd pair they must have looked, she with her back to the river and Maummi’s gaze fixed over her shoulder on the hutch.

“What we need to do is roll the wagon backward a little. Not too much, because there’s some pretty deep sand this side of that ledge, and if the wheel gets moored in that, she’ll tip for sure.”

Maummi moaned and clutched Emma’s arms. Her fingers dug into the soft flesh, as if by holding more tightly to her granddaughter, she could keep the wagon upright.

“Once that axle is clear, we’re going to have to pull it out at a sharp angle. It will take a mighty strong and steady hand leading those oxen.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Papa’s shoulders straighten. “Amish hands are strong.”

“Judging by your handshake, I’d have to agree.” Emma heard the smile in Luke’s voice and fought a powerful temptation to turn so she could see his expression. Keep your eyes cast down…

The older cowboy stepped up beside Emma and removed his hat. Though he looked to be around the same age as Maummi, deep lines crisscrossed the leathery skin of his face, which was shaved clean like an Amish youth. “Ladies, you might want to stand back a piece, out of the way.”

Emma realized they were standing directly in the path the wagon would travel when it came out of the water. “Oh, of course. Maummi, we’ll watch from over here.”

She guided her reluctant grandmother to their hired cart, where the boy was busy unloading their purchases and piling them on the ground. Rebecca made a pretense of picking up a light crate, but she moved so slowly to place it near the others that it would have gotten there faster if it had grown legs and walked by itself. Emma could hardly blame her, and not because of the sight of men’s chests. The fate of their wagon and belongings were at risk.

The boy placed the last sack on the ground and leaped back up onto the bench.

Emma went to stand beside the cart and looked up at him. “You’ll wait a moment, please? To see everything’s fit for our wagon to travel?”

He cast an anxious glance toward the darkening sky to the northwest but then gave her a reluctant nod.

“Danki.” She went to stand beside Maummi and Rebecca to watch Luke’s plan unfold.





Luke helped Jonas and Griff hitch the new oxen to the stranded wagon.

“I hope this works.” Jesse’s tone announced his skepticism for all to hear.

A worry that he might be right niggled deep in Luke’s mind as he double-checked the knots. The oxen’s yoke wasn’t usable because of the angle of the wagon on the bank, so they were forced to use rope. That back wheel was sunk pretty low, and when the wagon backed up, it was going to take brute strength in the water to keep it level enough to tip it up over the ledge so it could be pulled forward. There was no telling how heavy that hutch was, but no way could one man lift it on his own. He hoped he, Jesse, Willie, and Charlie could handle it between the four of them.

Even Jonas’s confidence seemed uncertain. He left Griff holding the oxen steady long enough to follow Luke to the river’s edge. “If the wagon turns over, mind you are not beneath it.”

Luke grinned. “You worried about me, Jonas?”

His expression remained solemn. “Possessions are not worth a man’s life.” A pause, and then he smiled. “Not even an Englisch man’s.”

Luke laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Rest easy. I don’t plan to be under that wagon when it breaks loose.”

Jonas returned to the oxen’s heads, while Jesse, Charlie, and Willie splashed into the water to take their places around the rear of the rig. Over by the cart, the women stood side by side, the hems of their black skirts sweeping the grass. Luke gave a single wave intended to relay his confidence—a conviction he didn’t feel. This thing could be in here forever.

Rebecca lifted an arm above her head and returned the gesture with enthusiasm, while Mrs. Switzer raised both hands in front of her mouth in a posture of prayer. Emma’s only response was to loop an arm through her grandmother’s elbow. Not even a smile for luck.

He plunged in and waded through the rising river toward the rear of the wagon. Water swirled around his waist as he took his place beside the others.

“Willie and Charlie, you two stand there.” He pointed at a place along the wagon’s back panel. “Stay as close to this end as you can. Jesse, you take the corner and hug up close to me.”

Concern drew lines across Jesse’s forehead. “That’s a sandy bottom there, isn’t it?”

“Mostly, but the rock is jagged so I can get a foothold.”

“See that you keep it, boss,” said Charlie.

“Don’t worry. If I sink, Jesse will come after me.”

Jesse aimed a glance at the hutch. “In your dreams.”

Luke sized up the leaning piece of furniture. It towered over him like that big old oak tree in the backyard when he was a boy. He glanced over his shoulder, toward the place where Emma stood. His grandmother said she used to say a prayer for his safety every time he took a mind to climbing that thing. If Mrs. Switzer truly was praying, he hoped she’d send one up for him and not only for her precious possession.

With a hand on the wagon’s side, Luke edged slowly around the corner, feeling his way with his boot. He hated soggy boots, but couldn’t risk a cut that might fester, so he’d have to put up with wet leather till they dried. He located the stone he’d found before and fixed both his feet. Not six inches behind him, the rock’s edge gave way to the riverbed. Not much maneuvering room, but it ought to be enough. Jesse and the boys slid into their places.

“Ready?”

They all bent their knees, grabbed the underside of the wagon bed, and nodded. He slid his fingers below the lower lip until the thick plank rested in his palms.

“Jonas, when I give the word, you back those oxen up one step. Only one. Then when I shout again, take them forward as quickly as you can. Got it?”

“Ja. I got it.”

Luke firmed his grip, nodded at the three by his side, and shouted, “Go!”

On the shore Jonas uttered something to the oxen in his low, calm voice that was almost snatched away by the rush of the water. The wagon started to roll backward. Luke tightened his muscles and tried to lift a tad, enough to keep the wagon relatively steady as the wheel rolled from beneath the ledge. The weight of the thing was staggering. Beside him, Jesse grunted, and Willie’s fair complexion purpled with the shared effort. Luke’s bulging muscles trembled. He hadn’t lifted anything this heavy since…well, ever. His eyes switched to Emma standing on the bank. Was her smile really pretty enough to break his fool back for?

He felt the wheel jerk upward when the axle slid loose from the outcropping. Only an inch or so, but the bed wavered at the sudden release. The strain in his muscles shifted, and Luke’s balance tilted. Though his brain knew better, instinct kicked in. He staggered backward—and found no footing. “Ease up! Ease up!”

His shout rang out as he plunged into the water. The errant foot sank into the sandy muck and jerked his other boot off the rock. A dark object loomed above him. The hutch was tilting his way. He splashed and kicked backward, but the muck held fast.

“Luke!”

Jesse’s yell mingled with a woman’s scream. A tiny, detached part of his brain wondered which one. Probably the old woman, worried about her hutch. Kicking harder, he threw his arms over his head, trying to move backward through the water with a powerful stroke.

Not enough.

Above him Jesse edged around the corner of the wagon and slid into the place he’d vacated. With a shout that was half-grunt, he strained against the weight of the wagon as Jonas coaxed the oxen ahead at a trot.

In the chaotic seconds that followed, everything happened at once.

The wagon rolled forward, out of the water and onto the shore.

The alarming sound of hooves thundered against the grass behind him. A stampede?

He turned his head and caught sight of a black dress and white cap racing across the grass. Emma. Startled cows scattered before her.

The water behind him splashed and churned as cattle plunged into the river, running blind to get away from the unknown black-clad figure racing toward them.

A hard object slammed into his body as Jesse lost his footing on the narrow rock and fell backward. The force of a cowhand’s backside hit him square in the face.

In the second before the river closed over him and sucked him under, he heard Mrs. Switzer’s cutting voice echo across the water.

“Dopplich Englischer.”

He had no idea what it meant, but he was fairly sure he’d just been insulted.