until recently he’d been content to follow. Now he wanted to lead.
When the horses pulled up beside one another, Luke took off his hat and wiped his brow. He glanced up when he felt his father’s eyes on him. Eyes brimming with pride.
“What?”
“I’m proud of you, son. Your ma would have been proud.”
“No, she wouldn’t. She hated your job, Pa. And she hated even more that I rode with you. She wanted you home.”
Glancing away, Shep focused on the milling cattle. “Can’t deny your words. I wasn’t much of a husband or father.” His eyes roamed the herd. “The trail gets in your blood, and I had to put food on the table.”
Luke traced his gaze. He didn’t want to be like Pa, not in this way. He liked the work, but someday he knew as certain as he was sitting in the saddle that he’d leave the job. Maybe buy a Texas ranch and raise a family. But for now he knew cattle like the back of his hand, and the good Lord willing, he still had a lot of years ahead of him before he had to decide exactly what he wanted out of life. He’d yet to meet a woman he’d give up bachelorhood for, and with Ma dead and his two brothers scattered, he was free to wander for as long as he wanted.
“It’s a hard life.” Pa’s quiet words broke into his thoughts.
“Driving cattle? I can do it with my eyes closed. And I get along with others, but I can also be tough as nails if necessary.” He figured he’d make a fine trail boss, one any man could respect. Life was as simple as setting your mind to something and following through.
“No, I meant life can get confusing. A man might think he knows all he needs to know, but he’ll soon find out he’s about as dumb as a stump in some matters.”
Chuckling, Luke shook his head. “You’re gettin’ old, Pop. You need a hot bath and a T-bone steak. Life’s only as worrisome as a man makes it.”
The older man’s eyes fastened on him. “Think you got it all figured out, do you? Got your first big job. Feeling mighty good about yourself.”
“Am I certain I can drive cattle as well as my old man?” Luke flashed a grin. “Maybe not as well, but pretty durn close.”
“You think that’s all there is to life? Knowing when to push, when to water, and when to let up?”
“That about sums it up, doesn’t it?”
Shep shook his head. “Young’uns. All fire and stink water.” Reining his horse, he winked. “Have a fine drive, son. And once you get those cattle to Hays, your old pa will buy you that T-bone.” A chuckle rumbled deep in his throat. “Oh…and you can tell me how you’ve managed to hog-tie and lasso life into a tidy little bundle.”
Giving another chuckle, he rode back into the herd.
ONE
Apple Grove, Kansas
July 1881
Nearly the entire Amish district of Apple Grove had turned out to help this morning, all twenty families. Or perhaps they were here merely to wish Emma Switzer well as she set off for her new home in Troyer, fifty miles away.
From her vantage point on the porch of the house, Emma’s grandmother kept watch over the loading of the gigantic buffet hutch onto the specially reinforced wagon. Her sharp voice sliced through the peaceful morning air.
“Forty years I’ve had that hutch from my dearly departed husband and not a scratch on it. Jonas, see that you use care!”
If Maummi’s expression weren’t so fierce, Emma would have laughed at the long-suffering look Papa turned toward his mother. But the force with which Maummi’s fingers dug into the flesh on Emma’s arm warned that a chuckle would be most ill-suited at the moment. Besides, the men straining to heft the heavy hutch from the front porch of their home into the wagon didn’t need further distractions. Their faces strained bright red above their beards, and more than one drop of sweat trickled from beneath the broad brims of their identical straw hats.
Emma glanced at the watchers lined up like sparrows on a fence post. She caught sight of her best friend, Katie Beachy, amid the sea of dark dresses and white kapps. Katie smiled and smoothed her skirt with a shy gesture. The black fabric looked a little darker and crisper than that of those standing around her, which meant she’d worn her new dress to bid Emma farewell, an