dropped to his knees to crawl the last few feet. Emma followed suit, and side by side they climbed the rise and peeked over the top.
Before them lay a small valley, ringed on three sides by swells in the land such as the one they knelt upon. Cattle filled the bowl, their number impossible to count but probably close to half the size of Luke’s herd.
“That’s them, all right.” Luke spoke quietly, his gaze fixed on the northeast corner of the valley, where a break in the hills formed a wide opening in the natural barrier.
She strained to see across the distance. “How can you be sure? I can’t see their brands from here.”
“First off, there are half a dozen different breeds down there. A cattle drive can take more than one breed from more than one owner, but there would be a bigger number of each. Second, there’s no chuck wagon. Just them.”
Luke jerked his head toward the open valley to the northeast. Emma caught sight of a trio of men, dismounted and talking to each other. It was impossible to identify them at this distance. They were nothing more than featureless figures.
“And third, don’t you recognize the oxen?”
She looked where he pointed, and sure enough, a pair of oxen milled with the cattle nearest to their position. Though one ox looked the same as another to her, they were probably Papa’s stolen animals.
“My guess is this crew have been rustling cattle for some time, a few here and there, trying to build up a decent-sized herd. They must have a buyer somewhere.”
“Where’s the fourth one?”
Luke studied them as he answered. “Probably hasn’t caught up with them yet. He’s around, though.”
The words sent a chill sliding down Emma’s spine.
After another long moment, Luke whispered, “Come on.”
They crawled backward to the bottom of the hill, and then Luke helped her to her feet. She was glad to be able to cover the distance to where Vic waited with a more-or-less normal gait.
“What are we going to do, boss?” Vic asked when they approached.
“We’re heading back to camp.” Luke went to Sugarfoot’s side and entwined his fingers to form a step for Emma’s foot.
Rather than mounting, Emma stared at him. “We aren’t going to get our cows back?”
Another blush threatened at her subconscious use of the pronoun. She meant his cows, of course, but after rescuing forty of them this morning and learning to herd them this afternoon, she’d begun to feel a personal stake in their well-being.
“No, we’re not.” Luke’s tone offered no room for argument. “We’re going to Hays as planned, and we’ll report this to the sheriff. They’ll send a posse to find the rustlers and recover the cattle.”
“Hays is a good day and a half away if we run ’em on the hoof,” Vic said, swinging up into his saddle. “The rustlers might move out before the law makes it back.”
“If they do, they do. There’s nothing we can do about it shorthanded.” He held his joined hands toward Emma again in a silent invitation that was more like a command.
She didn’t move at first. Griff had said earlier that if Luke showed up in Hays missing so many of his cows, he would never get a job as a trail boss again. They might be short-handed, but the men in Luke’s command still outnumbered the cattle rustlers two-to-one, even without Papa and Jesse. No, the real reason he was willing to leave his stolen cows went unspoken, but she knew it anyway. She’d seen his pain clearly on his face during the funeral, and his determination afterward, when he looked toward her as he spoke with Papa. He wasn’t willing to put anyone else in danger—not his remaining men, and especially not her and her family. He was willing to leave the stolen cattle behind in order to keep them all safe.
Though he may not realize it, his was an extremely Amish approach to the situation.
The mood around the campfire that night was somber. Even Rebecca had lost her bubbly enthusiasm, and Emma understood why. After hours in the saddle, the ground seemed far harder and more unyielding tonight than ever before. They both preferred to stand as they ate their supper.
“I think we could take ’em, boss,” Charlie said between mouthfuls of beans. “We can turn their own stunt back on them and surprise them at daybreak when the cattle are starting to stir.”
“Maybe.” Luke didn’t look up from his tin plate. “Maybe not. I’m