Paradise Valley (37 page)
“No. The mail is slow here. If she knew you were coming, I would have heard her crowing from the rooftop. Oh, Jake, you just don’t know. She’ll be beside herself when she sees you. It’ll be the happiest moment of her
life
.”
Little clusters of Mexicans watched as cows and horses and mules and men and women and children and buggies and wagons and crates and chickens and pigs and barking dogs clogged the little railroad yard with uncommon busyness, but in the presence of so many Amish, chaos is doomed. In two hours’ time the horses were all hitched, the wagons loaded and strapped down, and the parade had begun streaming through the narrow streets on its way out of town.
John Hershberger rode with Caleb on the lead wagon so they could talk. As the string of wagons pulled out of town Caleb glanced up at the small orange ball of winter sun about to kiss the western mountaintops.
“There’s not much daylight left,” he said to John. “It gets dark quick in the mountains. I’m thinkin’ we best make camp in the foothills just outside town.” They could have made a few miles yet, but he couldn’t bear the thought of spending the night in the high mountain passes where El Pantera lived.
“That will be fine with us, Caleb. I think nobody really cares where we camp, so long as it’s not on that train. I’ll be hearing those wheels in my sleep tonight.”
Caleb chuckled. “Did you bring any firewood? Might be a little chilly after the sun goes down.”
John Hershberger busted out laughing at this. “Jah, we got a little firewood, but if you think this is chilly, why then, you’ve already forgot what an Ohio winter is like, Caleb.”
The men talked around the campfire for a long time after supper, catching up on all that had happened since they last saw one another. Domingo sat with them but he didn’t say much, probably because Schulman was there.
Well after dark a high-pitched scream echoed down from the mountains. All of them turned and looked.
“What was that?” Caleb asked.
“Panther,” Domingo answered. “There are still a few of them in the high country.”
Caleb nodded, casting a meaningful glance at the young native. “Jah . . . and not all of them walk on four legs.”
Ira and John both shot questioning looks at Caleb, but he would say no more. There were girls within hearing.
“Where did the boys get to?” Caleb asked, looking around.
“Oh, they got their own campfire going – over there on the other side of the wagons,” Ira said, his ruddy face shining in the firelight. “I imagine they’re wrestling. They like to do that whenever they get a chance.”
“Jah, I forgot how much your boys like to wrestle. Especially that Micah. He’s even bigger since I saw him, Ira. Filled out like a plow horse. I guess a little wrestling is good for ’em after being cooped up in that train for so long, but it’s getting late. We probably all need to turn in.”
Domingo rose to his feet, stretched, tossed a stick into the fire, settled his hat on his head and said, “I will go tell them. After that, Herr Schulman, if you don’t mind I’ll take your rifle and keep watch on the hill.”
He said this in flawless High German, and a vengeful little smile flashed across his face.
Schulman looked up in surprise, but then he just nodded and said nothing.
Hershberger watched him go, and when Domingo was out of hearing, he leaned close to Caleb and asked quietly, “Do you trust that one?”
“With my life,” Caleb said evenly. “I don’t travel nowhere without Domingo.”
Schulman gave him a hard look, but Caleb didn’t need the German’s approval. He had always been one to make up his own mind about people.
When Domingo emerged from between the wagons the boys were all in a loose ring off to one side of the campfire. Micah stood in the center of the ring, breathing heavily, swiping dust and straw from his clothes. His coat lay across the nearest wagon wheel, his shirttail was out and one of his suspenders hung loose around his knee. Jake Weaver, four years younger and a head shorter, stood among the other boys with his hands on his hips, grinning, trying to catch his breath.
“You might have pinned me,” Jake said, panting, “but I made you earn it.”
“Jah, Jake,” Micah laughed, pulling the errant suspender up onto his shoulder. “I’ll admit you’re mighty stout – for your size. Who wants to be next?”
They didn’t see Domingo until he walked into their midst.
“What about you?” Micah said, turning to Domingo. “Want to try me?”
“No,” Domingo answered flatly. “Caleb said to tell you it’s time to bed down.”
“Oh, come on – one quick round, just for fun.”
Micah was twenty-one, the same age as Domingo, but he had indeed filled out like a horse – big square shoulders and stout legs, feet like a Clydesdale. He was fifty pounds heavier than Domingo and six inches taller.
“Play is play, and fighting is fighting,” Domingo said. “I don’t fight for fun.”
The ring of boys broke apart and they started to walk away. Everyone put on their hats, picked up their coats and headed for the wagons – all except Micah. As Domingo turned to walk away, Micah grabbed him from behind in a bear hug, pinning Domingo’s arms to his sides. There was no malice in the big Amishman – he was laughing when he did it. But what happened next shocked him. It shocked them all.
Quicker than thought, Domingo shrugged and dropped, leaving Micah’s big arms holding only his hat. An elbow crashed into Micah’s stomach, knocking the breath out of him. In the same instant Domingo’s feet spread and he reached between them to snatch Micah’s leg out from under him. Micah went down hard on his back, and in a split second he found himself pinned to the ground with Domingo’s thin sandal pressed against his throat.
Domingo leaned down so their faces were only a foot apart, in the flickering firelight fastening the eyes of a wolf on Micah, his arm still locked around that thick leg so the big man couldn’t move or roll away.
“I tried to tell you,” Domingo said calmly. “For me, fighting is not play.” He removed his foot from Micah’s throat and tossed the leg aside casually. “We start early tomorrow. Get some sleep.”
He turned his back on Micah, picked up his hat, dusted it off and snugged it on his head as he walked out of the firelight without looking back.
Emma asked Rachel to spend the night. Levi gave up his spot in the bed for her and made himself a pallet on the living room floor.
When the lanterns were snuffed the two sisters lay side by side in the darkness for a long time, listening to the distant yipping and keening of coyotes and the occasional hoot of an owl. After about an hour Rachel could hear Levi’s soft snoring from the other room, and she rose up on an elbow to face Emma.
“Are you awake?”
“Jah.”
“Is Levi okay?”
She heard Emma’s head turn toward her. “Sure, he’s all right. It won’t kill him to sleep on the floor for one night.”
“I didn’t mean that,” Rachel said. “I just meant he seems so . . .
upset
about all this. You didn’t see him at the supper table. He didn’t hardly touch his food, he was so worried. I could see it in his eyes.”
“Oh, that,” Emma said quietly, and then she turned her head and held still for a long moment, listening for Levi’s steady snore, making sure he was asleep. “He is very afraid, Rachel. Levi has a strong conscience, and his father raised him to believe that no sin ever goes unpunished – not only in the next world but in this one, too. Levi believes my troubles are Gott’s punishment for our sin. He fears that Gott will take this baby.”
Silence hung between them for too long, and then Rachel asked the question.
“Will He?”
Emma reached out in the darkness and caressed the side of Rachel’s face. “Oh, child, it’s not for me to say what Gott will allow. I’ve seen great tragedy befall those who have done nothing wrong, and blessings showered upon a few who did
plenty
wrong. But whatever Gott allows to happen, Rachel, it is for the good. It is our duty – our
place
– to accept what comes, and to grow from it. I have repented and asked for Gott’s forgiveness. I can only hope He has forgiven me, not because I deserve it but because He is a merciful Gott.”
Rachel pondered this for a long time, for it was a heavy question and she was reluctant to even put words to such thoughts. She spoke hesitantly.
“But, Emma, if you were to lose this baby . . . would you believe it was Gott’s punishment?”
She could hear the smile in Emma’s voice. “Sister, how would I know such a thing unless Gott himself tells me? In the end, I think I am probably just one of those unlucky women who isn’t very good at having babies. I do everything too quick – I conceive too easily and I have babies before they are ready. But if this is my lot, then I will accept it humbly and remember how I have been blessed in so many other ways.”
Rachel found this a bit puzzling. She waited a beat before she whispered, “Blessed? Emma. You’re living in a mud house in Mexico, with nothing.”
Emma shook her head, and laughed. “Child, you’re going to have to learn to stop counting what you
don’t
have. Jah, it’s true I’m living in a mud house in Mexico, but with a devoted husband, a great big loving family, lots of neighbors coming soon, plenty of good land to farm, more than enough food to eat . . . and my best friend at my side.”
By dawn the next morning the Shrocks and Hershbergers were all loaded up and ready to make the daylong trek to Paradise Valley. A dozen wagons, hacks and surreys turned about and began to form a line, but before Caleb could take his place at the front of the line his rear wheel bumped up over a large rock. The wheel dropped over the back side of the boulder with a bone-jarring jolt and an agonizing crunch came from underneath the wagon. The back end sagged.
Caleb stopped and climbed down to inspect the damage. The others stopped too, and Hershberger came over to see what was wrong.
“The axle is broke,” Caleb said, letting out his frustration in a long sigh. “All that weight was too much when it fell off that rock.”
“What can we do?” Hershberger asked. “We don’t have a spare axle with us.”
“I can get one from town, but it will cost us a whole day,” Caleb said.
“All right. I’ll go tell everybody to pull off and make camp again.”
Caleb shook his head. “No. There’s no need for everybody to lose a day. Schulman can take the lead. No one will bother you as long as there are so many, and Schulman has guns with him to protect you.”
Hershberger’s eyebrows went up. “But who will protect you?”
“We’ll be all right – we have Domingo. The worst of the bandits won’t bother us as long as he is with us. I could use another strong back, though, to fix the axle.”
“Micah can stay with you,” Ira Shrock said. He had come over as they talked and had heard most of the conversation. “He’s an ox. Would you want us to take Miriam with us?”
Caleb thought for a minute, then shook his head. “No, she’ll be useful to us. She can stay.”
Ten minutes later the wagon train was snaking up toward the pass, leaving Caleb behind with Domingo, Miriam and Micah.
Caleb bought an axle from a smith in Arteaga, and by evening the wagon was good as new. Miriam made camp and cooked dinner while the three men worked, and after dinner they reloaded the wagon and tied everything down.
