A Cowboy at Heart (21 page)

Jesse’s backside was completely numb. If only he could say the same for his injured shoulder muscles. These Amish sure didn’t believe in comfort in their church services. A cushion to sit on would have been a blessing. He squirmed on the hard bench and then shot the man next to him a glance of apology when he brushed against his leg. They had been introduced while standing in the yard before the meeting began, but his name had immediately melded with all of the others he’d heard. John, maybe. There were several Johns and a couple of Adens as well. Only one Jonas, though, and one Amos. He switched his attention to the front of the crowded living room, where he could see the back of his friend Amos’s head on the front bench.

This was an odd church service. These folks might call themselves Plain and claim to love simplicity above all things, only their rules were anything but. In Colin’s church, families milled around before the service talking to each other until the kid whose turn it was rang the bell. Here the men and women clustered in their own separate groups outside, waiting until the bishop gave the signal that it was time to go in. Then they couldn’t just go inside and find a seat. A man couldn’t enter the meeting out of place. First the bishop and preachers, followed by men in order of age. Jesse had felt out of place following Jonas inside while men his age were somewhere behind him in line, but Jonas assured him that because he was a guest, he was not expected to adhere to the regulation.

No church building here, either. They were meeting in a regular house. The family who lived here had moved out the furniture,
and the big room was stuffed full of hard, backless benches, definitely not built for a man getting over a gunshot to the back. When they entered the house, Jonas had offered to set a proper chair over against the wall for him, but just at that moment Jesse had glimpsed a steely-eyed look on Bishop Miller’s face. Jesse would rather chew nails than show weakness in front of that man. He squirmed again and found a position that relieved the injured muscles.

Actually, meeting in a home appealed to Jesse. Though he appreciated the church building he had helped Colin and Rebecca build, meeting in a house made the service feel more welcoming somehow. More like a family gathering than a formal affair. Though pressed between two men was not to his liking.

He leaned back so he could see the benches on the other side of the room. That’s where the women sat, following the same age order as the men.
Maummi
Switzer’s place was near the front, on the second bench. His gaze was drawn across the aisle and back two rows, where Katie sat beside Sarah Beiler, whose pretty voice had dominated the singing earlier.

The hymns had been sung in German. Amos had kindly handed him a book, but because Jesse didn’t read German any more than he spoke it, following along was impossible. Slow and laborious, but nice in a mournful way, the songs had filled the room and flew through the open windows toward the neat rows of wheat in the fields surrounding the Stolzfus home.

The bishop and several other men, including Amos, had left the room during the singing, and when it was over, they filed back in. A man who had been introduced as John Somebody-or-Other spoke for close to twenty minutes in a measured, lulling tone,
every word in German. Just when Jesse thought he might drift off, the man stopped and Amos rose to take his place. He opened the pages of a leather-bound Bible and read a lengthy passage in a passionate voice that stirred Jesse’s spirit, even though he didn’t understand a single word.

Then came the painful part. Bishop Miller stood. Though he, too, spoke in German, Jesse had no doubt from the fire in the man’s tone that the message was a blistering one directed at him.

Katie glanced sideways, and their gazes connected. He let her see his slow smile and enjoyed watching two spots of red appear high on her cheeks in response. With arched eyebrows, she turned her head pointedly toward the front of the room, but not before he saw the corners of her mouth curve appealingly upward. Satisfied, Jesse leaned forward and returned his attention to the bishop, who had been talking for at least forty minutes and showed no signs of letting up.

When the service finally ended, Jesse felt as if he’d been dunked in a deep river and twisted dry. Sitting on a backless wooden bench was twice more exhausting than
Maummi
Switzer’s rocking chair, and a hundred times worse than a full day in the saddle on the Chisholm Trail, but he’d done it! He hadn’t understood a single word spoken from the front of the room in the past three hours, but because he’d caught several blushing smiles on Katie’s face, and had twice looked back to catch her watching him, he left the Stolzfus home feeling pretty good.

He followed Jonas outside to find the bright Kansas sun high overhead.

“Well, that was interesting.”

Jonas’s face was a mask of amused indulgence. “You enjoyed the meeting, then?”

Jesse was unwilling to lie about church. “I didn’t understand a thing,” he admitted, and Jonas chuckled.

The women had begun to file out of the house, and Sarah Beiler caught sight of them. She pushed her way through the milling crowd and hurried toward them, waddling like a duck. “Jesse! I didn’t get a chance to speak to you before. We was late.” She aimed a scowl at her bulging belly. “I don’t move so quick anymore. Anyhow, it’s good to see you up and about.”

“Thank you. And may I say you’re looking fine, Mrs. Beiler?”

Not true, actually. Dark smudges marred the puffy skin beneath her eyes, as though she hadn’t slept well, but she gave him a wan smile anyway.

“Thank ye, though I’ll be mighty glad when this—” Her mouth snapped shut, and she tossed a guilty glance over her shoulder.

Approaching were
Maummi
Switzer and Katie. Jesse couldn’t stop a grin. He’d hoped for an opportunity to speak with Katie after the meeting. Not the same as their long talks on the porch while she stitched a piece of sewing, but he would love to see her smile. As they arrived, Amos also joined their group and greeted Jesse and Jonas with a bob of his round head.

“I didn’t know you were one of the preachers,” Jesse told him, referring to his role in the service.

“Not a preacher,”
Maummi
Switzer corrected. “A deacon. He is charged with reading the Scripture. An important role.”

Amos looked properly humble, his gaze fixed on the ground, while beside him Sarah beamed with pride.

“I was just about to tell Jesse how much better he looks today
than when we were over that way a few days ago.” Sarah grinned at Katie. “You must be a mighty fine nurse.”

“She is,” Jesse agreed, enjoying the way pink roses bloomed in her cheeks at the compliment. “It’s all that tea she makes people drink.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could speak she caught sight of something behind him. The pink spots on her face turned red, and her gaze dropped to the ground. Jesse glanced over his shoulder and into the stern countenance of Bishop Miller.

“A pleasant good day to you.” The greeting, though friendly enough, was spoken in a cold voice that belied the gracious sentiment. The temperature in the little group dropped noticeably as he joined them. Even Jonas lost his pleasant smile and began tugging at his beard, though his expression remained placid as ever.

Jesse answered in an even tone. “And to you, Bishop.”

The man regarded him with a speculative stare. “A surprise to see you here this morning. Did you enjoy our church meeting?”

“Yes. Yes, I did.” Jesse said. “In fact, I might come back if it’s all right with you.”

“
Ja
, visitors are welcome.” The man’s gaze turned brittle. “The next time you find yourself in Apple Grove, please join us again.”

An awkward silence fell, during which Katie kept her eyes lowered and even Sarah seemed without words. Finally, Jonas cleared his throat.

“There are chores waiting at home. Where is the boy?”

“Butch?” Sarah nodded toward the barn. “I saw him running off with Karl and a bunch of others a while ago.”

“I will fetch him,” Katie said, and wasted no time in hurrying away.

Jesse watched her go, disappointed that their visit had ended so soon. He caught a satisfied gleam in the bishop’s eye when he turned back. He tightened his lips. Called by God or not, he disliked the man nearly as much as he disliked Littlefield.

Jesse was seated on the front porch late that afternoon cleaning his saddle and checking the leather straps when a familiar pair rode into the yard. Butch knelt on the floorboards beside him, rubbing an oil-soaked rag over the cinch straps as Jesse directed. When they got home from church Jesse had rested while
Maummi
put together the noon meal, and even now, several hours later, he had to fight back a yawn. Apparently the Amish church service took more out of him than he realized. “Looks like we got company.”

The boy straightened. “Hey, that’s Preacher Maddox.”

Luke and Colin dismounted beneath the shade of the tree and approached the porch, Colin carrying a bulging bag in one hand.

“Well, would you look at that?” Luke grinned toward the mound of tack scattered on the porch. “He’s only got one kid doing his chores for him. What happened? Did that pretty nurse of yours get wise to your wild ways and desert you?”

Jesse grinned. “Katie’s gone home. And I’m teaching Butch, not using him. He’s good help.”

The boy nodded, his expression serious. “Jesse’s a good teacher.”

Colin stepped up, his hand outstretched. “You’re looking better than expected.”

“I’m feeling better, thanks.” Jesse shook the man’s hand, though he tensed his muscles to shield his shoulder from undue movement.

Colin thrust his hand toward Butch. “How you doing, son?”

Obviously pleased, the boy jumped to his feet and grasped the hand, man-to-man. “Real good, sir. I’ve been exercising Rex and helping Mr. and Miz Switzer around the place. I’m earning my keep.”

Colin cocked his head, a tender smile hovering in his eyes. “I’m sure you are.”

The door opened and
Maummi
Switzer appeared, wiping her hands on a towel. With a quick glance at the horses, she looked up at Colin. “Rebecca is well?”

Colin snatched the hat off his head. “Oh, yes, ma’am. And here.” He handed her the bag he carried. “She had the boys pick you some dandelion greens this afternoon. We have more’n we can eat.”

“
Danki
.” Looking pleased, she took the bag and then fixed an inquiring gaze on Luke. “And our Emma? She and the little ones are well?”

“She couldn’t be better.” A smile crept across Luke’s face. “Lucas took his first turn ringing the church bell this morning, and you should have seen how proud he was.” The smile became a chuckle. “’Course, it took him a few tries, but once he figured out he had to put his whole weight into it, that bell rang far and wide.”

She nodded, an indulgent smile playing around her lips. “You will stay for the evening meal?”

The pair exchanged a grin. “We were hoping for an invitation, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Maummi
Switzer’s curved backboned straightened, her eyes sparking with pleasure. “I will make apple dumplings.”

“Now you’re talking.” Luke slapped his thigh. “That’s my favorite.”

The door slammed shut behind her when she disappeared into the house with an eager step.

Jesse eyed his visitors. “You two didn’t ride all this way for apple dumplings. And unless I’m mistaken, you didn’t come to visit the sick, either.”

Their expressions sobered. “Where’s Jonas?” asked Colin.

Butch looked up from his polishing. “He’s out behind the barn, checking on one of the cows who is about to calf. You want me to fetch him?”

“You’d better,” Luke said. “He needs to hear what we have to say.”

They watched the boy duck under the porch railing, jump to the grass, and then take off at a run across the yard toward the barn.

“He’s looking better than I’ve seen him since he came to us.” Colin glanced around the farm. “This place must be good for healing all kinds of injuries.”

“He’s a good kid,” Jesse said. “Too good, if you ask me.”