you to think about.”
With an awkward movement, he thrust his fork and empty plate toward Emma and then strode away quickly, like a man bent on escape. Still crouching on the ground, Maummi’s mouth gaped open as she stared after him.
It was the first time in her life Emma could remember seeing her grandmother rendered speechless.
TWENTY-FOUR
Riding lead, Luke set an aggressive pace. At first the herd was reluctant. They were accustomed to an easy, sauntering stride while tearing up a mouthful of grass every few steps or so. He targeted a few of the lead steers and stayed on their heels. By midmorning the herd had spread out wide and settled on an acceptable speed, though he kept a close eye on the sun’s position as they passed familiar landmarks. The longer they took to get to the bedding ground he had in mind, the less sleep he would allow tonight.
The oxen pulling the Switzers’ wagon easily kept pace alongside McCann and the chuck wagon in front of the remuda. Luke kept watch on the occupants. If it turned out there was a reward for those rustlers, dead or alive, by rights it belonged to everyone. He planned to suggest instead that the money be turned over to Willie’s and Kirk’s families. He would take a vote later, but he was pretty sure the men would agree with him.
At the sight of that wagon, with its hulking wooden hutch, a chuckle rumbled in his chest. Mrs. Switzer had insisted on driving, while Jesse and the prisoners rode squashed in the back. Every time Luke looked that way, Mrs. Switzer’s mouth was moving. What could she be saying hour upon hour? From this angle he couldn’t see Jesse’s expression, so he couldn’t judge his friend’s mood. The chuckle turned to a snicker. Served him right. That boy had some growing up to do.
His curiosity finally got the best of him. It was time to check on the outfit anyway. He’d start with the Switzer wagon.
As he neared, he heard the sharp tone of her voice first, and then he was able to make out words.
“‘A handful of patience is worth more than a bushel of brains.’ A favorite of my dearly departed, that was. And this one too: ‘You can’t make good hay from poor grass.’ Ah, my Carl. A better man never set foot on the Lord’s earth, no matter what the bishop said. He loved to hear my proverbs. Said he could hear the Lord’s voice when I quoted. The Bible ones I had to say in English. Carl didn’t understand German.”
Lester and Earl had been tied back-to-back in the bed of the wagon behind the bench, where Mrs. Switzer sat with the oxen’s rope in her hand. The pair were wedged between the sideboard and the hutch, but they were tied up and couldn’t move around. The rocking chair had been placed at the back of the wagon. Jesse sat there looking comfortable with a pleasant expression, not nearly as irked as Luke would have thought after being forced to listen to hours of proverbs and Amish wisdom.
Luke’s horse approached the wagon as Mrs. Switzer turned her head to fix Lester with a stern look. “Heard this one, have you? ‘Cleanliness is next to godliness.’ Taking to heart this one would do you good. When next we stop I will beg sody and a toothpick from Mr. McCann for cleaning your teeth.”
Earl let out a chortle, and the sour-faced Lester rewarded him with a backward head-butt.
Jesse sat stiffly upright in the rocking chair. “Settle down there.” He delivered his warning with a glare, and then he relaxed back into his passive, almost peaceful expression.
Luke slowed Bo’s pace to match the wagon and came up alongside Jesse. He readied himself for a string of complaints at being left as captive to Mrs. Switzer and the two rustlers.
“How’re you doing?”
“Huh?” Jesse gave him a blank look before reaching up to pull a wad of cotton wool out of each ear. “Sorry. Didn’t hear you. What’d you say?”
Luke’s laughter rolled over the Kansas plain. “I’m making sure everything’s all right here.”
“We’re fine. Just fine.” Jesse swept a hand to encompass the sky. “Pleasant day for an easy ride.”
He was stuffing the wool back in his ears when Luke, still laughing, steered Bo away from the wagon. His next stop was to check on the westernmost flank riders.
Emma sat astride her horse like an experienced cowpoke. Well, except for the black fabric