Taken for English (41 page)

“We’re close.” Joseph reined in his horse and pointed to the hoofprints in the soggy ground. “Four horses, all well shoed. And not too long ago.”

The winding, marshy, sometimes disappearing shoreline had made tracking the vigilantes difficult. More than once Joseph had been tempted to admit to Maura he had lost the trail. Thick woods on both sides of the White River’s north fork could disguise a host of men.

Maura had not flagged, even at the hottest part of the day. Three times Joseph passed his water jug to her and insisted she drink deeply. Twice they stopped to refill the container from natural springs that began to appear with frequency. Once, he stopped to gather pine nuts and wild berries, but she wanted none of it. She cared nothing for food as long as Leon Mooney remained beyond their sight.

Finally, Joseph spied him through the trees. Joseph slid off his horse and handed the reins to Maura.

“What are you going to do?” Maura whispered.

“I’m not sure. I don’t want startle him into shooting.”

“Be careful!”

Joseph took a deep breath and guarded his steps through the woods. He made enough noise to be noticed but not enough to sound threatening. Mooney was alone for the moment, though the others could not be far off. Joseph continued forward, even as he realized Leon was peering into the woods, suspicious. Joseph held his empty hands up to view as he approached a man whose rifle was within reach.

“What are you doing here?” Mooney barked.

“I came to find you.” Joseph paced ahead, controlled, patient. “Belle is concerned.”

“Belle is blind to the truth.” Mooney made no move for his gun.

“Why don’t you tell me what you have in mind?” Joseph lowered himself to the ground beside Leon.

“Justice, that’s all.” Leon reached into a leather bag and pulled out a strip of beef jerky.

Joseph’s stomach grumbled. “Our Lord asks us to forgive, Mr. Mooney.”

Leon grunted. “I prefer to think I am an instrument of divine justice.”

“How can any of us be sure of that?” Joseph kept his voice low.

“An eye for an eye. A Twigg for a Byler. That’s the way I see it.”

Joseph filled his lungs, exhaled slowly, and swallowed. “And if the response is a Mooney for a Twigg? Will that be justice? Will that bring peace?”

Mooney scoffed. “Peace. We won’t have peace in Gassville as long as Old Man Twigg lives.”

Joseph gestured up the river. “But he moved out of town. Is that not a sign that he is ready for peace?”

“It’s a sign that he’s scared, that’s all. And he should be.” Now Mooney picked up his rifle and tossed it from one hand to the other.

Joseph straightened his hat with both hands as he looked over his shoulder at the sound behind him. The three Gassville citizens who had followed Mooney across the state line stood with a hearty catch of crawfish.

“Looks like we’ll have two more for supper,” Mooney said. “You can come out, Maura. I know you’re there.”

Maura picked at the boiled crawfish served to her in a tin plate. It was her first food all day, and she knew she ought to try to eat it if for no other reason than to accept Leon Mooney’s gruff hospitality, but the vice in her stomach made her hesitant to swallow anything.

Joseph ate slowly, she observed, but he consumed both fish and bread. He lifted his water jug and leaned toward her. “Come with me to get fresh water.”

Maura set her plate aside as casually as she could manage and followed Joseph deeper into the woods. He knelt at a gurgling spring and dipped the jar’s open mouth.

“These springs are all over,” he said. “Mooney has his eye on one he thinks the Twiggs will use in the morning.”

“How can he be sure?” Maura glanced around the woods as she knelt next to Joseph.

“It’s farther upriver, at the edge of Twigg’s land. They’ve already been up there and seen where they water the horses.”

“I’m sorry, Joseph.” Maura pinched her eyes between thumb and fingers. “I dragged you up here for nothing.”

“You have a heart for peace, Maura. That’s all you want.”

“I understand that disputes will happen.” Maura sank onto a boulder. “I can even accept war for a righteous cause. But this? I do not understand this burning vengeance.”

Her pulse coursed harder when he took her hand in both of his, but she did not withdraw it. She looked into his violet-blue eyes, shimmering in the moonlight, as he gently stroked her palm.

“The question now,” Joseph said, “is if you would like to stay the night or leave.”

Maura glanced back at the four men eating fish around a dying fire. “What is it like where you live?”

He shrugged. “Not so different from here. Rivers. Woods. The handiwork of God.”

“I mean your people,” she said. “Your family, your church.”
Hannah
, she wanted to say.

“We are people of submission.” He held her hand still now. “The good of the family and the community are our greatest concern.”

“I always thought Gassville was my community. But it’s just a place.”

He squeezed her hand. “We face our own decision now. Shall we go or stay?”

Pressure squeezed her chest as he released her hand. Joseph Beiler was like no other man she had known.

“Have we tried everything?” she said. “Is there no hope?”

“I like to believe there is always hope,” Joseph said, “but we submit to God’s sovereign will, even in this.”

Joseph put the stopper in his jug and stood.

“If we cannot avert what Leon Mooney has fixed in his heart,” Maura said, “we may be of aid when someone is hurt.”

Joseph nodded. “We will stay, then. I only wish I had a bedroll to offer you.”

“I will not sleep a wink anyway.” Maura pointed to a wide tree. “If you talk to me, perhaps I will not say something foolish to Leon Mooney.”

“Then I will be happy to talk to you.”

Joseph took the blankets from under their saddles and spread them on the ground at the base of the tree Maura selected. They settled in shoulder to shoulder. Mooney and his men grew quiet, though none slept as far as Maura could see.

“Joseph,” Maura said quietly, “will you be in a great deal of trouble for not going home with Zeke?”

He nodded slowly. “Some. My parents will be disappointed, and the bishop will give me a stern speech when I see him.”

“And Hannah?” Maura could hardly believe the question escaped her lips.

“Hannah.” Joseph took Maura’s hand again. “Hannah is a sensible choice. She is eager to marry and would be eager to please her husband. Everyone believed the bishop selected me for this journey because I am sensible as well. But it turns out I am not so sensible after all.”

“Because…”

“Because of you, Miss Woodley. When I left I was not sure Hannah Berkey was God’s will for me. Now I am certain she is not.”

Maura’s breath caught as she stared into the darkness. “What are you saying, Joseph?”

“You have raised many questions in my heart.”

Leon Mooney moved in stealth toward them. Maura stared up at him. Joseph stood.

“I want you two to promise me you will stay out of the way,” Mooney said. “There’s no reason to see you hurt.”

“Why does anyone have to be hurt?” Maura said. “Let’s go home, Leon. Home to Belle. She must be frantic with worry.”

“She won’t have to worry much longer. It will all be settled at daybreak.”

Under cover of darkness Leon Mooney moved his entourage upriver.

Before daybreak, four men found protection behind trees at the base of a hill and carefully calculated their clearest shots.

Joseph whispered to Maura that they should stay back. But she saddled her horse and followed Mooney, and Joseph did not want to let her out of his sight.

As a pink dawn broke over the north fork of the White River, Old Man Twigg and his son Jimmy led their horses down the hill to the spring, just as Mooney had anticipated they would.

Joseph opened his arms and enfolded Maura when the rapid spray of bullets began. She put her hands over her ears and her face against his chest. Joseph watched everything.

Old Man Twigg never even had a chance to lift the rifle he carried. He fell dead with the first firing. Joseph pushed Maura to the ground and covered her as Jimmy fired back, although Joseph doubted he could see any target. In only a few more seconds, Jimmy dropped with wounds to his leg and shoulder.

Maura pushed Joseph off and sat up, weeping.

R
ufus took the reins. Annalise offered no resistance. He clicked his tongue, and Dolly answered with forward movement directly across the meadow. Rather than turning onto the road that would take them back to the highway, though, Rufus crossed into the old mining property and halted the horse once again on open land.

“I want you to know this is not how I planned the morning.” He let go of the reins and turned on the bench to face Annalise.

“What happened back there, Rufus?” Annalise’s gray eyes were wide, and the day’s light swam through them.

“When I was working in Cañon City,” he said, “I found Larry’s office. I wanted to ask some questions.”

“About selling your land?”

“Possibly. I would use the money to help
Daed.”

“So why did you bring me here?” Annalise’s voice dimmed.

“Because I wasn’t sure. About the land. I’m sure about you, Annalise. I wanted to see you there on the land at least once. I wanted it to be the place where we choose our future together even if we do not live there.”

“Rufus Beiler, are you proposing marriage?” Annalise’s face cracked in a grin.

“I seem not to be very good at it—which should assure you that I have no experience with proposals.”

She laughed, and Rufus let himself breathe.

“So do it,” she said. “We can at least get that settled. Then we’ll face the rest.”

“You walked away from a fortune. You changed your whole life. I always thought I would offer a good start to married life.”

“God provides.”

“What if God provides by bringing a buyer for land I had not even decided to sell?”

“We’ll figure it out, Rufus.” She reached for his hand. “Ask me and kiss me and then we’ll talk about all this.”

Rufus swallowed and held both her hands now. “Annalise Friesen, I believe God wants me to be your husband. Would you have me?”

“Yes!”

The burst of joy rippled through their intertwined fingers. Rufus leaned toward Annalise’s eager face and put one hand behind her neck, his fingers in the hollow of her hairline. On the first day he saw her straw-colored hair hanging loose around her lovely face, he had found her beautiful—even if she was
English
. She was no longer
English
, and the beauty of her spirit far outshone golden sun on her hair. His lips met hers, and something startling passed between them. They had known for months they wanted to be husband and wife, but this moment of deciding, of choosing, of accepting sent a jolt of electricity through their lingering kiss. Annalise put her arms around him and returned every searching softness with her own.

They separated, breathless.

“I will arrange to have the banns read,” Rufus said.

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone before that, am I?”

“Traditionally, no.”

“I don’t know if I can keep this secret!”

“It won’t be long now.”

“I hope not. I very much want to marry you.” Annalise stroked his arm.

“Many things are uncertain still. My
land—our
land. I always imagined we would stay with my parents over the winter and build next spring.”

“We still could.”

“So you want me to keep the property?”

Annalise shook her head. “I want you to do what you feel is best for us, for our family.”

Our family
.

She already belonged with the Beilers.

“I own my house free and clear, you know.” Annie laced her fingers through his again.

Rufus stilled her moving fingers. “I would not be comfortable living in town. It is not apart.”

“Of course not.” Annalise was quick to speak. “I didn’t mean that. I mean that the value of my house will be
ours
now. We can decide how to use it.”