on his forehead. “Women, huh? There’s no figuring them.”
“Especially that one,” Luke said as he swung himself up into the saddle.
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