Wonderful Lonesome (19 page)

“Should we turn the light off?” Abbie whispered.

He shook his head. “I am not trying to lure the coyotes. I only want to know where they are, whose farm might be next.” His voice trailed into silence.

Abbie found herself holding her breath so she would not miss a valuable sound because she was listening instead to the air flowing in and out of her lungs. Willem was still as a boulder.

The howling came, distant, mournful, insistent. Following the noise, Abbie’s head turned in the direction of Rudy’s farm. Allowing herself a breath, she thought of his beautiful cows. Could a coyote take down a cow? Certainly the calf was vulnerable.

She tilted her head, thinking she heard something closer. A moment later, Willem leaned in the same direction.

The crack of a rifle threw them both to the ground, Willem’s weight on top of Abbie.

“You two all right?” Rudy lowered his rifle and moved toward Willem and Abbie.

At the sound of his voice, they sat up and then sprang to their feet.

“Rudy!” Abbie raised the lantern and turned it up to bring them all into its circle of light.

“You could have shot us.” Willem took the light from Abbie’s hand.

Rudy stood his rifle on the butt and held its slender nozzle in his hand. “Or that coyote could have pounced on you.”

“We were only listening to them howl,” Abbie said.

“This one wasn’t howling.” Rudy moved in the direction he had shot. “I saw his eyes. Bring that light and let’s see if I got him.”

Willem and Abbie followed Rudy’s long stride.

“There.” Rudy pointed with the end of his gun.

Rudy had caught the beast between the eyes. It lay sprawled as if its legs had gone out from under it in an instant.

“I don’t understand,” Abbie said. “I thought the scent of humans repelled coyotes.”

“Usually,” Willem said. “But Reuben did say he saw one in broad daylight at the ravine.”

“And Ruthanna,” Rudy said.

“What about Ruthanna?” Abbie stiffened.

“Didn’t she tell you?” Rudy raised his eyebrows. “Right after it happened I was over at their place helping with chores. She was still rattled, but she didn’t want to tell Eber. On the day of that meeting about whether Noah Chupp should be minister, a coyote approached her.”

“She never said a word!”

“I guess she got it out of her system when she told me. Probably she wanted to make sure it wouldn’t get back to Eber while he was so sick.”

“Do you think it’s been the same coyote every time?”

Even in the darkness with only the light of the lantern, Rudy saw the pale color of Abbie’s face. “I expect so. He was probably hungry.”

“But there are plenty of gophers and rabbits.”

“That’s what I’m planning to bait the traps with,” Willem said.

Abbie raised a hand to her mouth, as if to banish the sickening image. She understood the realities of living on the Colorado plain, but Rudy knew her well enough to know she would recoil at innocent animals finding such a fate.

“We should all go home,” Rudy said. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

“I am still going to set traps,” Willem said.

Rudy nodded. “And I still think you should.”

“I want to see where they are.”

Two days later Willem looked up at the sound of Abbie’s voice in his yard. “I didn’t know you were coming by,” he said.

“I wanted to be sure I caught you before you left and I wouldn’t know where to find you.”

She had no horse with her.

“You walked?”

“
Daed
wanted both the horses.”

She must have set out the minute her mother finished serving breakfast. The sun already was rising hot in the sky. Light twisted in the braids coiled against her head and shimmered loveliness through her stature. If only she would listen to Jake Heatwole even one time. Could she not see Jake was their best hope of marrying at all?

“The traps are dangerous, Abbie.” A dozen of them clanked against each other as Willem laid them in the wagon.

“I know that. I’m not foolish enough to set one off. I only want to know where they are. Levi sometimes wanders.”

“He might have to reform that habit. I will speak to your father about having a stern conversation with your brother.”

“If I know where they are, I can help Levi stay away from them.”

“I saw how squeamish you were when I said I was going to use gophers for bait.” Willem watched for change of color in her face, but she only straightened her shoulders.

“A human being could get hurt,” Abbie said. “Sacrificing a few gophers is a small price to pay.”

“The gophers are no friend to the farmers, either, you know.”

“I know.
Daed
says they eat the wheat.”

Willem tapped the side of the wagon. “Get in.”

Ruthanna met Abbie’s gaze later that afternoon as they sat together in the Gingerich kitchen.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the coyote?” Abbie set her jaw, and Ruthanna knew she was determined to have an answer.

“Shh.”
Ruthanna glanced toward the bedroom.

“Is Eber sleeping?” Abbie’s brow furrowed.

“Just resting. I don’t want him to know.”

“Is it wise to keep secrets from your husband?”

“When it is for his own good. Do you realize what he would do if he knew about it?” Ruthanna fiddled with her empty coffee cup. “It was bad enough that he insisted on going to that meeting with the other men.”

“Willem set traps. Some of them are on your land. You know others will look out for you if you are in danger.”

Ruthanna turned her head to look out the small window in the side of the cabin. “Eber prefers to take care of us himself.”

“We take care of each other. He knows that is our way.”

That would involve trusting someone, and Eber had made his feelings clear on that matter. Ruthanna got up and carried her cup to the sink.

“Ruthanna, is everything all right?” Abbie scraped her chair back.

Ruthanna turned and put a hand on her back. “Of course. I’m tired, that’s all. Nothing unusual for a woman in my condition.”

“You still have two months.” Abbie stood up and took her own cup to the sink. “You need to save your strength. I’m going to come more often to help with washing and cleaning.”

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary.”

“But I want to.”

The bedroom door opened, and Eber stepped into the main room of the cabin.

“Eber,” Abbie said, “are you unwell again?”

Ruthanna’s heart sank. She had hoped it was not so obvious that her husband’s health was once again declining.

Abbie tugged her thread through the seam in Rudy’s shirt one last time before tying off the knot. This was the fourth time she had repaired the same garment. Rudy needed at least two new shirts. At home in Ohio a man without a wife to sew for him could go to an Amish tailor when he needed new clothes. Abbie supposed Rudy had not had a single new item since he arrived in Colorado. She folded the shirt and set it on the shelf beside his bed, then gave the top quilt one last swipe to free it of wrinkles before calling her work inside complete.

She collected her cleaning rags and last week’s empty bread bag and took them outside, putting them in the buggy before looking for Rudy. He was in the barn with the new calf. Abbie stood in the open barn door and marveled at his gentleness with an animal that had hesitated to cooperate with life on this side of the womb only two months ago. Well fed and lively, the calf now nudged Rudy’s fingers to see what treat it might find there. Rudy spoke soothingly, more sounds than words.

Abbie stepped into the barn. “How are my favorite mother and daughter doing today?”

Rudy glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “They are very well, I am happy to say. This little one never wants to stop eating.”

“Good.” Abbie paced over to the stall. “Then her mother will be a wonderful milk cow once she’s weaned.”

“A dairy needs good milk cows.”

Abbie relished hearing Rudy talk about the future—acquiring more animals, expanding his milk and butter sales.

“You’ll have a fine dairy one day.” Abbie sat on a milking stool. “I’m so glad you didn’t use that train ticket I caught you buying back in May.”

Rudy scratched under the calf’s neck. “I still have that ticket voucher.”

“I would have thought you would have returned it for the cash long ago. You have wonderful land, and your animals are having young. Your milk business is growing even if your crops are not.”

“You make a good argument for staying.”

“I certainly hope so.”

He looked at her now. “Twice you have persuaded me to stay, Abbie. I know how much it means to you, especially considering that the Chupps decided to leave the settlement.”

The Chupps. Abbie tried not to think of them. They probably attended a Baptist church somewhere in Nebraska by now.

“I have to be honest with you,” Rudy said. “I am still here because of you. I stay because I have a glimmer of hope that someday you might see something in me that would make you want me for more than the survival of the settlement.”

“Rudy, I—”

He held up a hand. “Don’t say anything. I only wanted to speak my mind. I know you don’t feel that way right now. But things change.”

He gave the calf a final pat and strode out of the barn.