The Way to a Man's Heart (The Miller Family 3) (14 page)

“I’ll be fine,” she said, keeping her sweating palms by her side. She started to follow Matthew and stepped right into the path of a pony pulling a sulky. The seller was showing off the pony’s easy handling to potential bidders.

Jonah yanked her out of harm’s way just in time, and none too gently.

“Please, Leah, look in all directions. If you get trampled to death while helping me buy a horse, I don’t know what I’d tell my
mamm.”
His eyes twinkled with high spirits.

“Okay, I’ll be careful, if for no reason other than that.” This time she kept up with him, practically treading on his heels while they registered for the auction.

After perusing the program in the shade for what seemed like an inordinate amount of time, Matthew announced, “All right. I see you’ve marked a few to check out and so have I. Let’s start in the first barn and see what they’ve got. You might spot some others you’ll want to bid on.”

As they strode toward the barn, Leah fell in step behind them. Because the horseflesh prancing past held little interest for her, she studied Jonah instead. He was not only taller but must weigh at least forty pounds more than Matthew. However, he wasn’t remotely plump. Judging by his arms and his back and shoulder muscles, he must get plenty of physical exercise in the dairy business.
Maybe to spare his
dawdi’s
ancient team, he attaches the hitch to himself and drags the plow through the fields.
The mental picture caused her to laugh aloud.

Matt and Jonah stopped chatting to stare at her. “Did you see something amusing in one of the stalls, Miss Miller?” Jonah asked in his soft, hypnotic voice. “Or maybe one of the mares told you a joke while we were distracted.”

“Or maybe you’re losing your mind?” asked Matt, snickering.

Leah ignored her
bruder,
but she found Jonah’s use of her formal name unnerving. She met his gaze. “No. I was daydreaming and a funny story came to mind. One I’d rather not share.”

The dimples deepened in his cheeks. “Step up here and take a look at this Morgan-Shire crossbreed. Notice the strength in those broad shoulders and back and those powerful legs. God took the best features from both breeds and put them together in this horse. This gelding is beautiful, don’t you agree?” He took her arm and nearly dragged her to the stall.

She stepped up on the bottom rail and assessed the beast. He wasn’t anywhere near as large as
daed’s
Percherons, but he did look sturdy. As though the animal knew she was evaluating him, he lifted his head and arched his neck. He gazed at her with one mesmerizing black eye.

“Ah-choo!” She sneezed, and the horse shook his long mane in protest.

“Jah,
I almost forgot your allergies.” Jonah drew her back from the stall.

A second sneeze was followed by a third. “Can I have a drink from your water bottle, Jonah?” she asked. “I’d better take two more pills.”

“Sure, but be careful. Don’t take too many. Let’s get you some fresh air.”

Leah thought she saw her
bruder
rolling his eyes, but she wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to be troublesome. The three walked to a bench near the smaller grandstands. A crowd was growing in anticipation of a new training harness about to be demonstrated. “You two go back in and check out horses. I’m going to sit right here and watch this show. It looks interesting.”

After a minor amount of argument, they left her at the bleachers, where she viewed a rather
uninteresting
demonstration. When the men returned from the stalls, they all headed to the main grandstand, where they watched horses pull every conceivable implement to demonstrate their prowess. Leah did her best to remain enthralled.

“Where will these horses be auctioned?” she asked after what seemed like hours.

“We’re going there now,” Matthew answered, giving her another roll of his eyes. Inside the auction barn, packed with mostly Amish buyers, the bidding had begun.

“Since the horses Matthew and I are interested in have high bidding numbers, why don’t we have some lunch?” Jonah asked. “It’ll be a while before they’re auctioned.”

“Oh, great idea!” she said before Matthew could object.

“You just want to check out the competition.”

Leah ignored her sibling as they crossed the street.

“She has no competition, at least not in the dessert department,” Jonah said.

Leah smiled, hoping he was right. As it turned out, lunch at the buffet restaurant became the high point of her day. Usually the restaurant was filled with tourists, but today the crowd was at least half Plain folk.

Although everything they ate was delicious, Jonah continued to rave about Leah’s Home Cooking. Matthew, without a shred of interest in talking about food, changed the subject to horses. Jonah, who seemed determined to discuss a topic Leah could participate in, kept changing it back. A rather bizarre three-way conversation ensued as Leah tried to mediate.

Although she felt grateful for Jonah’s compliments, she couldn’t wait for lunch to be over. The antihistamines, heat, and larger-than-normal meal made her drowsy. As they crossed the street and headed back to the auction arena, Leah couldn’t keep her eyes open.

“Are you all right?” Jonah asked, taking her arm.

“I’m fine. I just ate too much lunch. I think I’ll sit in the buggy for a while.”

“I’ll walk you there,” he said.

“I’ll find us seats in the arena,” said Matthew, shaking his head as he walked away.

Leah steadied herself on his arm. “Thank goodness we parked in the shade,” she murmured once they found their buggy among the others.

“Will you be okay by yourself?” Jonah asked, almost lifting her up the steps.

“I will be fine. Don’t worry about me.” She stifled a yawn behind her palm.

“If you need anything, send one of the boys assigned to feed and water the horses to find me.”

She smiled sleepily. “Go buy yourself a horse or two, Jonah. And don’t pick out any duds, okay?”

He winked one of his magnificent azure eyes and strode off. “I’ll check on you later,” he called.

She didn’t know whether he’d checked on her or not, because Leah curled up on
mamm’s
old quilt in the back of the surrey and fell asleep. She slept for hours, barely rousing when Matthew climbed in to head for home. But when he shook her awake in front of their house, she was holding Jonah’s coat. It had been folded and tucked under her head for a pillow.

He was a man of his word after all.

J
ames lightly kicked the flanks of his gelding and galloped up the face of the hill while a worker drove cows toward him from the other side. They were moving a herd of Black Angus steers from this pasture, through a gate, and into higher, denser grassland. Television shows about ranches out West made the task look much easier than it was. The stubborn cattle didn’t realize they had already chewed this area down and would find much tastier grass on the other side.

Sometimes old adages rang true.

Waving his hat like a rodeo rider, he doubled back to keep a few calves up with the rest. The sooner they relocated the herd, the sooner he could call it a day. He couldn’t wait to shower, change, and spend the entire evening with his wife.

Emma wouldn’t discuss the afternoon his old high school friends dropped by for a visit. “No sense in rehashing a pack of nonsense,” she had declared, but she hadn’t let him out of the doghouse, either. He shouldn’t have hugged his friends, especially not the female variety. Amish folk maintained more distance and weren’t as demonstrative as
Englischers,
and he’d forgotten himself. But when he’d seen Kim again, he knew he had made the right decision in his conversion to Amish life. Not only did he love Emma with every fiber of his being, but Kim’s very short skirt and flirtatiousness showed disrespect for herself and for the choice he’d made. He’d expected more from an old friend.

However, Emma’s hurt feelings had been his fault. He could have prevented her from feeling left out. Tonight, while his mom worked late and Dad went to Bible study, he would mend fences. And that thought lifted his spirits as he drove the last of the steers through the pasture gate and up the ridge.

James stopped in his mom’s garden to pick a bouquet. Every woman loved flowers, and Emma was no exception. He was wondering if his sister had chocolate hidden somewhere when his dad spoke behind him. He almost jumped out of his boots.

“Come out of there, Jamie. I reckon you have enough flowers for a diplomatic funeral.”

“I got carried away. I want to surprise Emma at dinner tonight.” He walked toward his dad, careful where he stepped between the rows.

“You’ll have to give them to her quickly, son. I need you to ride to Zanesville with me. We’ll eat at the new steakhouse that just opened up.” Jim Davis snaked a hand through his graying but still thick hair.

“Steakhouse? But Emma’s fixing pork chops for supper—my favorite.” He caught up with his dad halfway to the house. “Isn’t this your Bible study night?” he asked, hoping his eagerness to be alone with his bride wasn’t too obvious.

James Sr. stopped in his tracks. “I’m not going to the meeting. I need to pacify an irate client instead—for something that you were supposed to take care of.” His tone of voice conveyed anger and disappointment.

“Wait!” Jamie demanded. “What do you mean? I don’t know anybody in Zanesville.”

His dad released a weary sigh. “I asked you to meet with that buyer from Columbus. He was looking to take every quarter horse yearling we’ve got for sale at a premium price, based on his earlier assessment and their certification. Because he’s a busy man, he didn’t want to make another trip to Charm.” He scuffed his boot heel in the path and seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “I asked
you
to talk to him, but you sent Larry instead. He doesn’t know half what you do about the breed. Mr. Young asked questions Larry couldn’t answer.” He stopped kicking dirt and met his son’s gaze.

Jamie’s words caught in his throat as the memory of the appointment came flooding back. His father hadn’t looked this mad since the day Jamie and Kevin had spray-painted a huge football insignia on the barn.

“Mr. Young called me all bent out of shape,” James Sr. continued. “He asked if his business wasn’t important enough for an owner to spare the time. He felt insulted, and I can’t say I blame him.” Jamie’s dad stared off at the setting sun, just above the western treetops. “I told him a family emergency had come up and that was why Larry had been sent. You know I don’t like telling falsehoods, Jamie. It doesn’t sit right with me. So tonight we’re taking Mr. Young and his wife out to dinner. We’ll answer any questions he might have about the horses, and you will apologize to the man.” A note of finality hung in the air. The matter wasn’t up for further discussion.

Not that Jamie wanted to argue.

He hadn’t liked sending someone to do his job, knowing a situation could arise exactly like this. He’d felt guilty, even though Larry had reported that the meeting had gone well.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I thought Mr. Young would come here, but he picked a meeting place too far away to reach by horse-and-buggy.” He swept his hat from his head. “I tried to find somebody to drive me down, but nobody was available except Larry. I guess I should’ve firmed up my plans sooner.” The more he talked, the lamer his excuses sounded. And the more ashamed he felt.

“So why didn’t Larry drive you?” his dad asked, his words filled with incredulity. “Why did he go alone? He trains pleasure horses for stables, not racehorses.”

Jamie chose not to mention that the solo appointment had been Larry’s idea. Bored with his current position, Larry sought the better pay and excitement on the racing circuit. He had assured Jamie he had done his homework.

“Larry’s been studying up on quarters and hopes to start working with them, but I take full responsibility. I should have gone with him to the meeting, but at the last minute Emma said she wasn’t feeling well.” His words drifted low until they were barely audible.

His dad shook his head. “You’re not a newlywed, son. And you’re not a kid anymore, either. The best thing you can do for your family is to make this farm profitable. We need to maintain our reputation. In this day and age, you’ll be lucky if you don’t inherit a pile of bills and liens on the place. You’re only as good as your word in this business.”

Jamie clenched down on his back teeth. He hated to be scolded like a boy, and he hated it even more when his dad talked about death and inheritances. But he kept his focus on the gravel and his ego in check because every word of the chastisement was justified. “I’ll get my folder of notes on quarter horse yearlings and then shower for the dinner meeting.” He turned to walk away, but his father’s hand on his shoulder kept him where he was.

“You told me when you joined the New Order church that you could still be my right-hand man.” His father’s eyes were ringed with dark circles of fatigue. “You said turning Amish wouldn’t affect your ability to do the job…that you would adjust to the limitations of horse-and-buggy. Well, I don’t see that happening. You seemed content to work your fields, tend to the livestock, including Emma’s sheep, and then sit on the porch sipping lemonade with your wife. You don’t go to town even when you have someone to drive you.” Dad released his sleeve. “I need to know I can count on you, son. I want to hand over more responsibility, not be checking up on you like some slacker from the county labor pool.”