without another word Jonas left the porch.
Though tiny, the scabs on Emma’s skin showed starkly against the pale white linen pillow coverings. Luke entered the room, his hat in his hand, and hesitated in the doorway. She looked so frail that words were snatched from his chest, and all he could do was stand and stare at her.
Mrs. Switzer poked her head into the room. “The hallway is a good place to wait. I’ve found a comfortable chair out here.”
She disappeared, leaving the door open and them alone.
Luke clutched his hat brim in his hands and found that he couldn’t look the pale young woman in the face. “The doctor said you’re going to be fine. I’m glad.”
“Thank you.” Her voice fell softly on his ears. “You saved me yet again.”
“No, I only…” The words trailed off. “I’m sorry I didn’t come talk to you earlier today.”
Emma didn’t reply. When he finally raised his gaze, he discovered she was staring at her hands clasped on the sheet. Her long eyelashes curved against the backdrop of her scraped cheeks. So graceful, so vulnerable.
While words were still bouncing around in his thoughts, trying to figure out which would emerge, she reached beneath the bed linens and drew forth an item. “I made this for you.”
She held a white object toward him. Hesitantly, he crossed the threshold to her bedside.
The gift was a square of soft fabric the size of a handkerchief. The edges had been finished with fine, even stitching. In the center a colorful image decorated the plain white field. When he recognized it, emotion surged up from deep in Luke’s soul. It was his brand, the one he had designed as a boy. The one he intended to use one day when he owned his own herd.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I wanted you to have it,” she told him shyly. “For when you start your own cow farm.”
He grasped the kerchief between his fingers and met her eyes. “When did you make it? You’ve been pretty busy on the trail.”
“I began the night you told us of your dream to own your land and cattle. Every night I worked a bit…until my eyes were too tired to see.” She swallowed. “I am glad that you have this dream, Luke. I pray that someday you will have this place of your heart.”
He shifted. “Emma, I’ve been doing some serious thinking.” The words, barely acknowledged until this afternoon, welled up from somewhere inside him. He glanced toward the open door, aware that her grandmother was probably listening to every word. What did she say about there being more than one way to cut a cake? He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m expecting to get a bonus from this herd. Mr. Hancock is going to make a bundle, and he’s known for passing on his profits. If I can make this much money a few more times, I’ll have enough to buy back my old family farm in Texas. Then I’ll leave the trail. I’ll raise a herd of my own, and build a life.” He paused and caught her gaze in a meaningful one of his own. “A life for myself and my family.”
If only she hadn’t mastered her father’s talent of masking all her emotions. She stared at him through eyes that seemed so passive as to be indifferent.
“There are Amish cows as well as Texas ones,” she finally said.
He couldn’t hold steady under her gaze. He looked away. “I can’t become Amish, Emma. I want a simple life, but not a Plain one.”
When she looked up again, tears sparkled in her eyes.
“Emma…”
“What you say is true, Luke.” She looked past him as though he wasn’t there. “It is not meant for Amish and Englisch to be together.”
Maybe so, but his life would never be the same without her. And she might tell herself that Amish and Englisch didn’t mix, but would her heart believe it?
Did his?
Without another word, he turned and left the room, the handkerchief clutched in his fingers.
THIRTY-ONE
Apple Grove, Kansas
September 1881
Fall had reached its cool fingers into Apple Grove. For the first time in months, the morning sun failed to warm the chill from the air. Emma pulled a pan of biscuits from the oven and set it on the iron surface, glad for the heat inside the small room. She slathered the biscuits with a slice from the roll of butter she had helped Maummi churn a few days before.
“Mind that butter, girl.” Maummi’s voice held the same