by Amy Field
“He’ll shoot us both if you stay here,” said Burns quietly. “Get off your horse and go towards him but not between us.” Abigail understood and climbed off her horse, stepping away from Burns.
“Please don’t kill him,” she said quietly. “That’s all in the past.”
“You had to go and shoot me,” said the killer to Burns. “So, I might not kill you right away. I think I’ll make you watch how I treat my new wife.” He kept the gun on Burns.
“Come over to me, girl,” he said. Abigail moved away from Burns, but not in a line to the killer. “Don’t be sh. I won’t hurt you.”
“Let him go, and I’ll do what you want,” said Abigail.
“You’ll do what I want no matter what,” the killer said. “Take off that shirt right now, or I’ll kill him.” Abigail stopped moving. “Get your clothes off.” He aimed the shotgun at her. She turned to look at Burns.
“If you shoot me, you’ll kill my horse, too,” said Burns. The killer looked back at Burns, taking his eyes off of Abigail.
“I don’t care about your damn horse. You can die together.” He swung the shotgun away from Abigail towards Burns.
“I care,” said Burns.
Abigail had never seen such speed. The hand that Burns had been resting on his thigh suddenly had a pistol in it, spitting flame. As the Dragoon roared in the quiet
woods, the shotgun never fired. The killer dropped it, his hand shattered by a bullet. He stared at Burns, who kept the Dragoon aimed at him. He saw Burns aim, and screamed.
“Don’t kill me,” he shouted. “I quit.”
Burns swung the pistol and fired, hitting the killer’s other hand.
“My wife saved your life,” he told the killer. “And she saved mine, too. Now get out of here and never come back. Your hands won’t be able to fire a gun anymore.” He watched the killer turn and run for his horse, tied in the woods. When the blonde man was on the horse and riding away, Burns dismounted and hurried to Abigail, taking her in his arms.
“It’s over,” he said. He felt her trembling.
“I was so scared he’d shoot you,” she sobbed. “But he killed my husband-to-be. What did you let him go? He should be hanged!”
He was a very bad man,” said Burns. But I had a debt to repay. Remember I told you about Charity and her husband, Seth? They never pressed charges against me, even though they could have put me behind bars for a long, long time. This is my act of charity, my repayment for their forgiveness.”
Abigail sobbed even more as he held her.
“Where’s the horse I was riding?” she asked, still sniffling.
“Halfway back to Jed by now,” said Burns. “He didn’t like the noise.”
Within ten minutes they arrived at the large house. Burns let his horse into the barn, then came back to Abigail. Together they went up the steps and into the large entrance way.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said. “Everything is perfect.” He showed her the house, room after room, ending with the large bedroom upstairs. From the bed you could look through the large window and see the Montana mountains in the distance.
“How about I see what’s in the kitchen and maybe make us some coffee?” she asked.
“Sounds great,” he said. “I’ll go unsaddle my horse while you do that.”
Burns went to the barn and unsaddled his horse. He fed and watered it and gave it a good rubdown. When he finished, it was late afternoon. He sat with Abigail on the porch, enjoying the cool day, before they realized they were hungry. Then, they went inside together to prepare their first dinner at home.
.
Chapter 12- The Brides Make Homes
The next morning, they were sitting on the porch drinking coffee when Jed’s wagon drove into the yard. The horse Abigail had been riding was tied to the wagon.
“Everything under control?” asked Jed, who climbed down carrying a rifle.
“It is now,” said Abigail. “I have a mug of fresh coffee here for you.” Jed put his rifle back on the wagon and came up onto the porch.
“The horse was halfway back to town when I saw her,” said Jed. “Made me a mite nervous.” He sipped the coffee and sat down.
Burns told him what had happened.. Jed wanted to be sure they were both unhurt, and Burns assured him the problem was over.
“Well sir, it is now,” said Jed. “The marshal’s deputy from Bozeman rode in today to investigate Morgan’s murder. He’s staying a couple of days, so I’ll get back to him tonight. He thinks the killer is a wanted man from near Yellowstone, a real bad character. I bet this is him.”
“Think the deputy will want to come up here?” asked Burns. “I don’t mind meeting if he wants.”
“I’ll tell him that,” said Jed. “But if this guy matches the description he has, I think he’ll be happy to head for home. It’ll be a problem he don’t have to deal with.”
“I think we’ll come into town in a couple of days,” said Burns. We’ll need some supplies and I want to ask around about ponies.” Abigail squeezed his hand and smiled.
Burns helped Jed unload Abigail’s belongings. While she carried them into the house, he and Jed went back to the wagon.
“This was a bad way for the brides to learn about Montana,” said Jed. “It’s normally such a peaceful territory.”
“Each settlement has problems,” said Burns. “Now hopefully we won’t have any more for awhile.”
“Come see us when you drive into town,” said Jed. “Thank Abigail for the tasty coffee.” He snapped the reins and the wagon started back to town.
Burns checked on his horse, then turned it out into the pasture before heading back into the house. That afternoon he and Abigail walked out into the pasture to see the ten horses feeding peacefully. She decided what she really wanted was a young colt to raise and train. They planned to ask around when they were in town.
Three days later Burns brought in two of their horses and hitched them to his wagon. They took their list and drove into town. Abigail was relaxed and happy, because Burns had put his guns away. He had a rifle tucked under the wagon seat in case of trouble, but none was expected.
In town, they heard about a colt due to be born in a month. Burns left word about his interest, and then they headed for the general store to purchase supplies. They got the food items on the list and were loading them on the wagon when Brent came up to the store. He looked happy and shook hands with Burns. Brent went inside to shop and Burns went in as well to get Abigail. Lucy was talking with her, also looking happy, too.
“Lucy was just telling me the news,” said Abigail. “She and Brent have decided to start a family.” Lucy nodded happily, then went to help Brent.
On their way back to the ranch, Abigail looked at Burns. “Lucy said Brent wants to thank you for everything.”
“I just had a talk with him when he was feeling down,” said Burns. “He just needed to relax and things would work out. Looks like they have.”
Abigail squeezed his arm, and they rode the rest of the way quietly. Abigail pointed out a bald eagle watching them from a tree, and a bit later they spotted an owl sitting on a low branch. They watered the horses in the stream, then rode on into the yard by the barn. Burns unloaded the supplies with Abigail, then turned the horses out. He rolled the wagon back into the barn. Finally finished, he climbed up onto the porch.
Inside, he found Abigail peeling potatoes in the kitchen. Burns took down a slab of beef hanging in his cool room and cut two large steaks. He carried them to the large woodstove. When Abigail’s potatoes were frying, he dropped the steaks in a large skillet with some sliced onions and mushrooms. He stirred the vegetables and flipped the steaks so that everything was ready at once.
They sat together at a table in the kitchen enjoying the meal. They chatted about town life and were happy for Brent and Lucy. When they were finished, Burns cleared the dishes while Abigail cut two slabs of apple pie she had baked the day before. They took the pie and mugs of coffee onto th
eir porch and ate while they watched the red Montana sunset.
“This is almost perfect,” said Abigail. “I know winter will be different, but I like snow and cold weather, too.”
“Well,” said Burns. “What can we do to make it perfect, then?”
“I think raising a colt and training it would be fun, but it can be hard, too. I realize there are mountain lions and grizzlies around, so you have to be certain it’s always protected. It can be a full time job.”
“We can do that,” said Burns.
“But I’m not certain that’s what I really want,” she said. “I thought about it today, and I think what I really want is to start a family ourselves. I want you to be the father of my babies.”
“I’ve always wanted to be a father,” said Burns. “But I had almost given up hope.”
“Now we’re married,” said Abigail “We can be great parents. We will be great parents.” She smiled at Burns, who stood up and took her hand and kissed her. Then, together, they went into the house and closed the door’
The End
Amish Romances
Book I
The Amish Widow’s Lover
Martha lay in bed, her blue eyes wide and staring at nothing in particular in the ceiling of her room. She was alone in bed, as it had been for the past three years after her husband Matthew’s fatal buggy accident. Yet old habits were difficult to get rid of and she remained still, waiting for the alarm clock to go off to rise and begin her daily routine.
As soon as the alarm sounded, she threw off the covers and stood to her feet, putting her hair in a tight bun at the nape of her neck before reaching for her prayer kapp on the bedside table and securing it over her hair.
Upon reaching the backdoor that led to the kitchen she noticed that smoke was rising from the chimney. She knew it meant her daughter was also up and had beaten her to the task of preparing breakfast for the household which now consisted of the two of them, as the boys were now both married and living away from home. Leah was the youngest at fifteen, but soon enough she too would be leaving Martha to get married and start her own family.
“Good morning mother,” her daughter greeted cheerily as soon as she entered the kitchen.
Martha simply smiled at her in acknowledgement of her greeting as she marveled at the uncanny resemblance between them. Leah was the exact replica of her when she was in her teen years. Her long curly blond hair was covered by the prayer kapp she wore and the plain navy blue dress hid her attributes well but her bright blue eyes, her thin pink lips, her cute little button nose and her rosy cheeks were alluring enough to beguile a ton of young men like her mother’s had more than two decades ago.
It brought up memories of the gangly teenaged boy whose charms she had succumbed to back then, and who up to this day could elicit a mass of strong emotions from her.
Stephen had left the community as suddenly as he had reappeared and though she missed him and the way he made her feel – special and loved, she knew it was for the best.
They had kept up their amorous affair for well over two years before the anxiety of being found out and the guilt of what she was doing became too much to bear.
“We can’t do this anymore Stephen,” she spoke as she lay tucked into his side, her mass of curls spread across his chest like a curtain.
“You’ve said that before, but it doesn’t mean anything,” he spoke after a while in thought.
Raising herself unto her elbow so that she could stare into his eyes, she saw a look of wariness in their green depths. It broke her heart to do this but it was necessary as she could not continue to live the double life.
With each secret meeting and simple glances in public that conveyed a deeper meaning than what onlookers could decipher there was still the threat of being found out and she had thought long and hard about the implications it would have for her children who had become her pride and joy.
It now became necessary to secure their future and wellbeing over hers even if it meant staying in a love-less marriage and carrying on with the mundane life she had led before his return two years ago.
“I am running out of excuses to tell Matthew,” she tried to explain, “And I know Anne knows that we are still together but whatever you have on her is forcing her to keep her mouth shut for the time being but it doesn’t mean it will last forever.”
“We have been careful Martha, no one knows about us,” he reasoned with her, reaching up to curve one hand over her cheek.
She reached up and took his hand in hers, staring intently into his eyes.
“I can’t do this anymore Stephen,” she repeated with finality. “I want more than this,” she gesticulated with her hand highlighting the fact that they were in an old abandoned barn on the outskirts of the community.
“We can’t have that,” she continued as he remained silent not knowing what to say to rebuff her statement as the reality hit him that all they had were moments shared in secret.
“I have to think about the future and my children – how this would affect them if it ever got out.”
“I love you,” he spoke slowly, emphasizing each word. It warmed her heart like it always did when he spoke them but she would not be swayed by them today.
“But it’s not enough,” she confessed.
Detaching herself from him she proceeded to make herself presentable.
“Goodbye Stephen,” she spoke softly as he remained in the same position, his expression unreadable. She exited the barn with tears streaming down her face as her heart constricted with the weight of what she had just done.
The following day Anne showed up at their doorstep with an evil glint in her eyes and a broad and cunning smile on her face.
“Did you hear?” she asked cheerily.
Not in the mood for her games, she simply waited for the treacherous woman to continue.
“Stephen has left the community,” she finished triumphantly.
Martha felt like the air had been sucked out of her lungs and she had to hold on to the door post to support her weak legs.
“Once a heathen, always a heathen,” she finished.
That was eight years ago. With time she learnt to cope with his departure just as she had been forced to do the first time he left the community. She threw herself into the routine she had been accustomed to for years, but now with her husband dead and her boys off starting their own families, she was relegated to someone of unimportance and with the additional time on her hands, she found her mind was wont to stray to the old memories she had of her first and only love.
“I’m making pancakes and eggs and I’ve started on the ingredients for an apple pie,” Leah continued on, effectively pulling her out of her reverie.
“Oh you did?” she asked mildly surprised as she knew Leah was industrious and always trying to find ways to impress her.
“Yes,” she replied pleased with herself. Martha simply nodded her head in approval.
“Before I forget, Deacon Mark came by when you were out yesterday evening.”
“Oh he did?” she asked surprised once more.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing much, he brought over a basket of apples and said to wish you a good evening,” she responded.
“Oh,” Martha replied simply as she felt heat rush to her cheeks.
She had noticed since last month that he had been showing keen interest in her. For the past two meetings he had made it a point of duty to seek her out and to ask her about how she had been coping on the farm that was now left in her care after her husband’s death. He had been a little shy and she found it cute that she made him nervous.
She was also flattered by the attention as he was much younger than her, maybe by at least seven years, and not to mention the fact that he was a handsome man. He was a widower as well and had two young children who probably needed a motherly figure in their life.
She had not imagined ever getting married again. But here she was thinking of the possibility of a
ctually tying the knot once more, and instead of fear and caution she felt eager anticipation.
“Well I shall thank him when I see him next,” she replied before turning her attention to the platters containing the pancakes and eggs.
“I’ll take these into the dining room. Why don’t you put on a pot for kaffe?” she asked while lifting and balancing the food in her hand.
“Ok mother,” she agreed thankful for the help.
Martha pushed open the kitchen door and made her way back to the house as the cold February air whipped her in the face. After placing the platters on the table she proceeded to set two mats at opposite ends of the table before getting out the plates and cutlery they would be using for the meal.
When Leah came in with the coffee they both sat down to enjoy the meal.
“For what we are about to receive Lord, we give thanks,” Martha prayed shortly. “Amen.”
The simple prayer held so much memory for the two of them. In its ritualistic repetition, it was symbolic of the time the whole family was together. Her two boys would be on either side of the table, closest to their father while Leah sat closer to her. They would then all be required to recite the memory verse they had been commissioned to study by their father with the promise of punishment if they slipped.
“Have you thought about what you’d like to do after you graduate come July?” Martha asked Leah conversationally; something that had never been encouraged while Matthew was alive.
Placing her fork back onto the plate, Leah turned her attention to her mother.
“Well, Miss Yoder said if I want I could become her assistant for the next term,” she spoke hopefully.
“And this is what you want to do?” Martha asked carefully.
Leah had always expressed an interest in becoming an either an educator or a lawyer but in the eyes of her father, women were to be seen and not heard. He constantly made reference to scriptures that alluded to this.
