The Heart's Frontier (33 page)

His gaze swept upward, over the wide open pasture and the herd that grazed within the fenced borders. To his right, the lush plants of the previous owners’ garden bore more squash and late red tomatoes than he could pick in a month. And behind him, a house loomed empty and lonely, the only furnishing his bedroll on the hard wooden floor in the biggest bedroom.

The silence of the farm, and the occasional call of a mother cow toward her playful calf, occupied his thoughts. In the dim recesses of his mind he heard the sound of a horse’s approach, but he didn’t credit it as real. Instead, his inner eyes were fixed on the image of a sweet face, a softly curving cheek, and a pair of lush lips that quirked at the edges and invited his touch.

A weight dropped around his body. In the next instant, a rope tightened, pinning his arms to his side.

He turned to find a haunting, laughing gaze fixed on him. At first his mind grappled to place the beautiful woman whose long hair swung freely around her shoulders, with no white
kapp
to hinder its dance in the Kansas breeze. Then somewhere in the depths of his chest, his heart lurched toward the woman who had lassoed his emotions months ago on the Chisholm Trail. His boots followed and took him to her side.

She lifted her end of the rope, her eyes dancing with humor. “I’ve been practicing my technique. How am I doing?”

Did her presence here, without her Amish
kapp
, mean what he thought? Was she ready to give herself to him, freely and without encumbrance? He’d longed for this moment through the long days and nights of the past two months. With an impatient hand, he freed himself from the confines of the rope and raised his arms to encircle her. Moving with reverence for the precious treasure he held, he pulled her gently to him.

“You’re doing fine,” he whispered.

He lowered his lips to cover hers. The moment they touched, a wave of emotion swept from his head to his feet. He felt her go limp in his arms, and he tightened his hold on her.

“I heard you’d given up the life of a trail boss and settled in Kansas,” she whispered when their kiss ended, her gaze locked onto his. “I could hardly believe it was true.”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s true.” He brought her upright and picked up a silky lock of her unbound hair between his rough fingers. “Does this mean you’ve given up your Plain life for mine?”

Her hand rose to rest upon his cheek. “Why must we choose one or the other? Instead, can’t we make a new life together?”

Overcome, he pulled her toward him again. In the moments before their lips touched for a glorious second time, she whispered, “There is something I need to tell you.
Maummi
is giving us a wedding present. I hope we’ll have room for it in our house.”

A movement behind her drew his attention. He tore his gaze from hers and focused on the unmerciful sight. Pulling from the main road onto his property was Mrs. Switzer in her ox-drawn wagon. Jesse rode on the bench beside her, and
that hutch
loomed in the wagon over their heads. Though he’d thought himself rid of the thing forever, it seemed determined to haunt him.

But it was a fair exchange.
Maummi
’s hutch for Emma’s heart. He’d take it.

“That,” he said as he lowered his head again to claim a kiss from the woman he loved, “is a price I’ll gladly pay.”

L
ORI
C
OPELAND
is the author of more than 90 titles, both historical and contemporary fiction. With more than 3 million copies of her books in print, she has developed a loyal following among her rapidly growing fans in the inspirational market. She has been honored with the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award, The Holt Medallion, and Walden Books’ Best Seller award. In 2000, Lori was inducted into the Missouri Writers Hall of Fame. She lives in the beautiful Ozarks with her husband, Lance, and their three children and five grandchildren.

V
IRGINIA
S
MITH
is the author of more than a dozen inspirational novels and more than fifty articles and short stories. An avid reader with eclectic tastes in fiction, Ginny writes in a variety of styles, from lighthearted relationship stories to breath-snatching suspense.

   
1.   Today, one of the reasons Amish people stand out is because of their non-technological lifestyle, but no one had technology in 1881. In
The Heart’s Frontier
, what set the Amish people apart from others?

   
2.   When confronted by armed thieves, Emma is proud when Papa responds by quoting directly from the Amish Confession of Faith. Why do you think those words came so easily to his lips?

   
3.   Emma is frustrated with her father’s reluctance to make a decision about returning home or continuing on to Troyer. Was Jonas’s hesitation justified? Is there a point where too much caution is detrimental?

   
4.   When the story begins, Luke is cocky and sure of himself. What lessons did he learn along the cattle trail?

   
5.   Emma’s first impression of Luke is not good. What was the turning point in her feelings for him?

   
6.   Amish parents like to teach their children with proverbs. Did any of
Maummi
’s proverbs teach you something?

   
7.   Luke needs to focus on getting his herd to Hays. What makes him continue to help the Switzers, even at the risk of missing his deadline?

   
8.   Luke felt responsible for the deaths of Willie and Kirk. Was he?

   
9.   Emma feels guilty for acting foolishly when she snuck away from the camp after dark. Was the kidnapping her fault? Why or why not?

10.   Why did Luke struggle with shooting the cattle rustlers?

11.   Why did Papa try to discourage Luke from pursuing Emma? Were his concerns justified?

12.   
Maummi
didn’t want Emma to fall in love with an
Englisch
man, even though she married outside her faith. What were her reasons? What made her change her mind about Luke?

13.   What was the message behind Emma’s hand-embroidered gift to Luke? Did he take that message to heart?

14.   Emma tells Luke that she doesn’t want to choose between an Amish life or an
Englisch
life, but a life they can discover together. Do you think that would be possible for them? Do you think that would work as well today for an
Englischer
and a Plain woman?

15.   Which character did you most identify with, and why?

“Rebecca! The laundry will not hang itself. ‘An idle brain is the devil’s workshop.’”

Rebecca jerked upright, pulled from her daydream by her grandmother’s sharp voice. She cast a guilty glance toward the house, where
Maummi
stood in the open doorway, her black skirts billowing around her ankles and her arms folded across her crisp white apron. Her stern expression was visible from all the way across the yard.

“Sorry,
Maummi
.” The automatic apology came with halfhearted sincerity. It seemed as though she was always apologizing for something lately.

Wet clothing swayed on the half-empty clothesline that stretched between the barn and the well house. Rebecca stooped and selected a black dress from the basket at her feet. She shook out the garment with a snap before hanging it on the line beside a pair of Papa’s trousers, aware that her grandmother had not returned to her chores in the kitchen but stood watching from the doorway. A breeze rustled the leaves of a nearby apple tree and blew the sweet scent of blossoms Rebecca’s way. The strings of her
kapp
lifted in the wind and danced around her shoulders. Quickly, she clipped the dress onto the line before it could blow away. If a clean garment touched the ground,
Maummi
would make her wash it again.

“When you are finished there,” her grandmother called, “come and help me in the kitchen. I want you to make
snitz
pie for Emma’s table. A treat for the little one.”

The reminder of their plans to visit her sister and brother-in-law’s farm for the midday meal brightened Rebecca’s mood considerably. The day was warm enough that she could romp outdoors with her nephew. At nearly three years old, little Lucas was a precocious bundle of energy, and Emma, who was expecting another child in a few months, was only too happy to turn him over to Aunt Rebecca for a spell.

One day I’ll have children of my own
.

Her daydream returned with the thought. She lifted one of Papa’s shirts from the basket, but in her mind it belonged to a tall, handsome man whose blue eyes lit up when he came in from the fields at the end of the day. She could see him just rounding the barn, his gaze searching for hers. He would catch sight of her, and his stride would lengthen as he hurried across the grass that waved gently in the Kansas breeze. When he reached her, he would thrust aside the laundry, gather her in his arms, and—

“Rebecca!”

With a jerk, she tossed the shirt across the line. “I’m hurrying,
Maummi
.”

She brushed a crease out of the shirt, her hand lingering on the damp fabric. If only her one true love were more than a memory. She could see him so clearly in her mind’s eye, sitting tall atop his horse, the brim of his
Englisch
hat shading his eyes from the glaring sun. Four years had passed since she last saw Jesse, and yet she remembered every detail. Not a single day had gone by that she hadn’t thought of him.

An apron followed the shirt on the line. Of course, the Jesse in her mind was a little different from the real one. Hers was dressed in Amish trousers, suspenders, and a proper round-brimmed straw hat. Jesse becoming Amish was a matter of expediency because she could only marry an Amish man. Papa had already lost one daughter to the
Englisch
, and he wouldn’t stand for the second one to leave the church as well. Once Jesse understood that, she was sure he wouldn’t mind becoming Amish.

The sweet-smelling breeze whisked away a wistful sigh as Rebecca clipped a pair of Maummi’s bloomers on the line. Sometimes she worried her dreams were nothing but fancy. What if Jesse had forgotten all about her in the four years since their adventure on the cattle trail, the one where Emma had met her husband, Luke? After all, Rebecca had been little more than a child then, and Jesse a handsome cowboy, a man.

And oh, what a man!

A familiar tickle fluttered in her belly. She had given her heart to that drover, and time had not diminished the strength of her affections. If only he would return to Apple Grove and see that she was now a full-grown woman of seventeen. One look at her, and he would realize God had made them for each other, of that she was certain. He would join the church and they would marry, and he would help Papa on the farm until the day Papa decided to hand the reins over to him. Rebecca turned and gazed at the house where she had been born and lived her entire life. One day the house would be hers and Jesse’s, and they would fill it with children. They would build a
dawdi haus
for Papa right next door so she could care for him in his old age.

She hung the last apron on the line and picked up the empty basket. The hem of her black dress brushed the grass as she crossed the yard toward the house. Her plans had been laid in painstaking detail over four years of wishing and hoping and straining her eyes toward every
Englisch
stranger on horseback who passed by on the road.

But Jesse did not come. In fact, no one had heard from him since he returned to Texas a few weeks after Emma’s wedding. Even Luke, who had been his best friend, hadn’t heard from him in years.

A wave of desolation threatened, but Rebecca brushed it aside. From the first time she laid eyes on him, she had known Jesse was hers. God would not give her a love this strong if He didn’t mean for them to be together. One day Jesse would come to her. But how much longer would he make her wait?

Empty basket balanced on her hip, she skipped up the stairs and into the house.

“What about Daniel Burkholder?” Emma asked as she handed a basket of warm biscuits to Rebecca and nodded toward the laden table, where fragrant ribbons of steam wisped from bowls heaped with food. “Katie Miller told me he fancies you.”

Rebecca stood at Emma’s kitchen window, admiring the sun-drenched grass in the well-kept plot of yard surrounding her sister’s house. Poppy mallows dotted the untended field between the house and the road, their purple blooms swaying in the ever-present breeze. She located the men in the opposite direction, standing near the back fence, their heads turned toward a herd of cattle that grazed in the field beyond. Luke was saying something to Papa, whose round-brimmed straw hat bobbed as he listened. At their feet Lucas squatted in close inspection of something on the ground.

Wishing she could be outside with the men instead of inside the hot kitchen, she turned her back to the window and arranged her features in a scowl. “He smells constantly of onions. I can’t bear him.”

“You like onions.”
Maummi’s
knife expertly sliced through a plump red tomato on the cutting board.

“To eat, yes, but not to smell. When he took me home in that tiny buggy of his after church one Sunday, I nearly choked.” She set the biscuits on the table and stood back to examine the spread, her hands on her hips. “Emma, you have enough food for a barn raising.”

Turning from the high work counter,
Maummi
focused on the table. “‘The path to a man’s heart winds through his stomach,’” she quoted with an approving nod. Then she fixed her gaze on Rebecca and gave a little sniff. “You would do well to remember that, granddaughter.”

Rebecca turned away before her grandmother could see her eyes rise toward the ceiling. She’d never enjoyed kitchen work the way Emma did. The pie resting on the corner of the second work counter bore evidence to her lack of cooking skill. The top crust bubbled unevenly because she hadn’t properly slit the crust to vent the steam, and the rim around the crust had browned nearly black because she forgot to watch it in the oven. She hoped the taste would make up for its appearance, because Maummi had stood at her elbow directing every ingredient.

“Emma already has Luke’s heart. They’re married, aren’t they?”

“Catching a man’s heart is only the beginning.”
Maummi
slid thick tomato slices onto a plate with the edge of her knife. “Keeping him happy is where a dull wife fails.”

Rebecca chose to ignore the veiled reference to her and instead dropped her gaze toward her sister’s bulging belly. “Luke appears to be happy.”

A blush colored Emma’s cheeks, and her hand cupped her stomach in a gesture common to every pregnant woman Rebecca had ever seen. Her time was at least three months off, but already she looked nearly as big as she had when Lucas was birthed. Even so, she was beautiful as always in her loose-fitting blue gown and with her braided hair wrapped around her uncovered head. Rebecca ran a hand down her own black skirt and battled a surge of envy. When Emma left the church to marry Luke, she had left behind the proscribed Amish black dresses and
kapps
. Though Rebecca tried not to begrudge her sister the ability to wear beautiful colors, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to don a pretty dress and maybe a matching bonnet like those she saw ladies wear on the infrequent times when Papa allowed her to accompany him into Hays for supplies.

The thought flooded her with guilt. Bishop Miller would accuse her of vanity.

And he would be right.

“We were talking about you, not me,” Emma said. “So Daniel smells of onions. What of Samuel Schrock?”

“He’s too young. He’s barely past his sixteenth birthday.” Rebecca avoided her sister’s gaze by adjusting the placement of a plate at the long table. “And besides, he’s taken with Amy Bender. I saw them walking together after church last Sunday.”

“There’s always Amos Beiler,”
Maummi
said as she set the plate of tomatoes on the table.

Rebecca didn’t bother to hide her eye-roll this time, nor did she suppress a loud groan, which made
Maummi
cackle.

Tenderhearted Emma’s brow creased with compassion. “Poor Amos, raising those children on his own. They need a mother, and he needs a wife.”

“He isn’t raising them on his own. Mrs. Keim tends them while he works the farm, and his sister-in-law is teaching the girls to cook and keep house.” Truth be told, the oldest Beiler girl was already a better cook than Rebecca, but she saw no reason to say so.

“I know, but that’s not the same as having a mother.” Emma’s gaze slid toward Maummi. “Or a grandmother.”

Their mother had died when Rebecca was a baby, and
Maummi
was already living with them, having moved to Apple Grove with Papa and Mama and young Emma to help establish the farm. Rebecca tried for a moment to imagine what her life would have been like without
Maummi
. The idea wasn’t worth considering. With a rush of emotion, she crossed the room to stand beside the older woman, and smiled as she touched her sleeve with a gentle gesture.