A Cowboy at Heart

by Lori Copeland

  Chuckling, Jonas resisted the urge to stroke the tomcat’s fur. This one would not stand for caresses like some of the other cats in residence at the Byler farm. Jonas knew what he wanted.

  “Open up, greedy one.”

  The cat’s mouth stretched wide, and Jonas aimed a stream in his direction. Practice had made his aim perfect, and the cat lapped milk from the air.

  “There. That’s enough for you. Go catch one of those mice I saw lurking around the corn crib this morning.”

  Satisfied with his treat, the cat wandered off with the same unhurried pace, his tail held high. With a touch of envy, Jonas watched him go. If only he could manage to appear as unconcerned tomorrow when he spoke with Caroline.

  Jonas thought the singing would never end. The Lapps’ barn was filled with young men and women seated on benches, their combined voices rising to the upper rafters where the lantern light could not reach. Just when he thought they had sung every song in all of existence, someone would toss out the title of another and the singing would begin again. The only thing that made the evening bearable was the fact that he’d selected a seat where he had an unobstructed view of Caroline’s profile. A tendril of soft brown hair had escaped the confines of her kapp, and as she sang it waved against the long slender line of her neck.

  Finally the last song was sung. Now began the fun part of the evening, the part they all looked forward to. The singers rose, and Jonas pitched in to help the other young men move the benches out of the barn. Groups formed, clusters of girls who giggled together and cast quick glances toward the boys under the watchful eyes of the parents who hovered nearby. Jonas’s own mader stood near the doorway, ladling out apple cider. He avoided her and sidled toward a corner of the barn where a pair of his friends stood.

  Melvin welcomed him with a playful elbow in the ribs. “Our Jonas has hopes for the evening. He borrowed my fader’s buggy.”

  Jonas’s face warmed when Eli Shrock fixed a knowing gaze on him. There was only one reason for a young man to beg use of a buggy on the evening of a singing.

  “Who’s the girl?” asked Eli with a grin. “Mary Litwiller, perhaps? I saw you eyeing her in church last week.”

  “I did not,” Jonas replied with some heat. He had not realized his actions had drawn notice, though misinterpreted. Mary had been seated beside Caroline.

  “’Tis a gut thing.” Eli lowered his voice. “I heard that Jacob Burkholder hopes to take Mary home this evening.”

  Jonas scanned the group until he caught sight of Jacob, who stood in close conversation with three others near the food table. He kept glancing across the room with quick, jerky motions, looking nervous as a cat. The only time a young man could be alone with a girl was if she agreed to let him take her home after a singing. The subject of who carried whom home was noted and widely discussed for weeks.

  “Matthew Kennel has his fader’s buggy tonight as well.” Melvin’s eyebrows arched as he leaned forward and spoke in a lowered voice. “I heard he plans to ask Caroline Hersberger.”

  A rocklike lump landed with force in the pit of Jonas’s stomach. For a moment the room wavered. He jerked his head around, trying to locate Matthew. There. Standing near the door and speaking intently with John Miller. Was Matthew even now giving John instructions to approach Caroline on his behalf? There was no time to lose.

  He turned back to his friends, his throat suddenly tight. If only he could approach Caroline himself, but that was not the way things were done. A friend must speak to her for him. No doubt it was better that way, for he might fumble his words when face-to-face with a lovely girl like her. But that meant confessing his feelings to his friends and risk their teasing from this point forward.

  “I…I…” His voice failed. The pair looked at him curiously. He swallowed and tried again. “Would one of you speak for me?”

  “Speak to who?” asked Eli.

  “To…Caroline.” To his embarrassment, her name came out barely more than in a whisper.

  “You wish to take Caroline home?” Amusement colored Eli’s voice, and he landed a hearty slap on Jonas’s back. “What a surprise this is.”

  A smile tweaked Melvin’s lips. “Not to me. I have seen you gazing after her like a love-struck puppy.”

  Normally Jonas would have reacted to his jibe, but just then John turned away from Matthew and began making his way across the barn. He was headed directly toward Caroline.

  Jonas grabbed Melvin by the arm. “You must hurry. Ask her for me.”

  He gave a shove, and Melvin nearly stumbled. He righted himself and, with an indulgent smile, straightened his coat before striding across the floor with a long-legged gait. Sweat broke out on Jonas’s upper lip as he watched Melvin and John arrive at the same time. Caroline stopped talking to her friends and turned polite attention on them. John spoke first, and disappointment sank into Jonas’s stomach. But before she answered him, Melvin spoke. His hands gestured in the air. A moment later Caroline’s head rose. A jolt shot through Jonas when her gaze met his across the distance. What answer lay in those lovely eyes?

  Melvin returned with a swagger in his step. “Thanks entirely to my persuasiveness, she accepted you.”

  Eli chortled and gave him a congratulatory shove.

  “She did?” A curious sensation set a ringing loose in Jonas’s ears.

  “It was a close thing. She seemed favorable to Matthew at first, but when I explained how you have been pining after her for weeks, and if she refused she would be accountable for your death when you wasted away from sorrow, she changed her mind.”

  For one horrified moment Jonas thought his friend was serious. Then he caught sight of Melvin’s grin.

  “I merely explained that you had gone to pains to borrow the buggy and stow quilts inside to protect against the chill.” He lowered his head and speared Jonas with a look. “You have quilts?”

  Jonas nodded. “Ja.”

  “Das gut.” Melvin leaned forward and spoke with a smile. “I believe she favors you, my friend.”

  Jonas risked another glance. Caroline caught his eye. At her smile, his head went light.

  “Are you warm enough?” Jonas kept his head facing forward, pleased that his voice betrayed none of the nervousness that caused his insides to tremble.

  “Plenty warm.” From the corner of his eye he watched her run a hand over the quilt that covered her lap. “’Tis a beauteous work. Your mader’s?”

  “Ja.”

  “I like quilting. I find my mind is peaceful when my fingers are busy.” Still stroking the fabric, she fell silent.

  The moon illuminated the packed-dirt road they followed with a steady white light, a million stars lending their glow to overcome the blackness of the sky. The air held a touch of chill left over from the winter just past, turning their breath into puffs of cloud that dissipated almost instantly.

  Jonas cast about in his mind for something to say. Long had he hoped for time alone with Caroline, but now that he was here with her, his tongue felt awkward.

  The silence threatened to become uncomfortable. He burst out with the first thing his mind grasped on. “I begin the classes next week.”

  He had made the decision over the winter to complete the training that would prepare him for baptism into the Amish church. The classes would be held on church Sundays over the next four and a half months. By fall he would be ready to make the commitment to a peaceful and Plain life as dictated by the teachings of Christ and the Ordnung.

  Caroline shifted on the bench to turn a smile on him. “I begin the classes next week as well. Come fall, we will be baptized together, Jonas.”

  A pleasant thought, and especially because it seemed to please her. Jonas sat a little taller.

  “What will you do after?” she asked. “Will you continue to help Mr. Byler on his farm?”

  “Neh,” Jonas said quickly, unwilling to have her think he had no ambition to be more than a farmhand. He smiled to soften the hastiness of his reply. “I have p
lans for a farm of my own. I’m gut with the land and with livestock as well.” He snapped his mouth shut. Did his words sound boastful?

  “I know you are, Jonas.”

  She spoke in a soft, almost admiring tone that set his pulse to racing. He risked a sideways glance at her. The look she fixed on him held a hint of the warmth he’d hoped for. Her gaze stirred courage in him, and he made a decision. Before he could change his mind, he pulled on the reins and brought the buggy to a halt. Surprise showed on her face, but she didn’t object.

  Jonas turned so that he could face her fully. “May I tell you of my plans, Caroline?”

  “I would like to hear them,” came her soft reply.

  “One day I will leave Ohio.” When her eyebrows arched in surprise, he hurried to continue. “Last fall an Englisch man on his way home to Boston stayed with us overnight. He told us of a law that will someday be made where farms in the West will be free for the claiming.”

  “Free?” Doubt colored her words.

  Jonas nodded. “Truly. The West is vast, miles and miles long. Many Englisch men have already gone, and there have been fights over the boundaries.” Her eyebrows crept upward, and Jonas shrugged. “It is their way. But the Englisch government wants to put an end to the disputes by regulating the way land is claimed. They will make a law that allows a man to build a home and farm first, and then pay afterward when the land becomes profitable.”

  “And you believe this Englischer’s words?”

  “I hope his words are true. I pray they are so.”

  Though doubt creased her forehead, Jonas glimpsed a spark of excitement in her eyes. Encouraged, he leaned forward. “Imagine, Caroline. A new Amish district could be established. We could own the farm that lies farthest to the west of any in the whole country.”

  “We?”

  Jonas looked away, heat flooding his face. Did he say “we”? The word had slipped out unguarded on a wave of enthusiasm. He fumbled for a quick explanation. “The…the new community, I mean.”

  While he willed the chilly night air to cool his burning cheeks, her fingers plucked at a loose stitch on the quilt covering her lap. “On occasion I have thought of leaving Ohio myself,” she said in an offhand voice.

  He widened his eyes. “You?”

  “Ja.” Her lips twitched with almost a smile. “My plans are not so lofty as yours. I thought of joining my mader’s family in Pennsylvania, perhaps. My Aunt Emma has written that I am welcome.”

  Something in her manner, in the way an appealing dimple hovered in one smooth cheek, caused a tickle to start in Jonas’s stomach. “Pennsylvania is a gut place, I hear.”

  Her eyes held his for a moment before sliding sideways shyly. “But already crowded with Amish. Or so my Aunt Emma writes.”

  He leaped on that. “New farms may be harder to come by, and not so big. Whereas in the West…”

  “The West does have a lot to offer,” she conceded. White teeth appeared to nibble at her lower lip. “Especially if you go there, Jonas.”

  Were his ears betraying him? Had Caroline Hersberger, the prettiest girl in all of Ohio, just expressed an interested in him? Daring greatly, he reached out and took the hand that rested on the quilt. When she entwined her fingers in his, the tickle in Jonas’s stomach expanded to his chest.

  “It would not be an easy life. The challenges will be many, and the work hard.”

  Her head tilted sideways as she considered. “My grossmudder has a saying. Silver only shines with hard work.” Soft lips twitched again with humor. “Nobody wants dull silver.”

  His thoughts whirling, Jonas could hardly believe his good fortune. Though he had never known Caroline to be coy, surely she was toying with him now. He had to be sure, had to hear the words spoken from her lips. “Are you saying…Do you mean you would consider…” He cleared his throat. “You will help me start a farm in the West?”

  A soft chuckle, and then she answered in a playful tone. “Is that a proposal of marriage or an offer of employment?”

  Emboldened by her teasing manner, Jonas squared his shoulders. From childhood had he loved Caroline. There would never be another woman for him, not ever. Though he had not planned to voice his intentions tonight, his heart was full to the bursting point. With a certainty that could not be doubted, he knew this moment had been created by Gott alone.

  He enfolded her hand in a warm cocoon between both of his. “Caroline Hersberger, it would be the honor of my life if you will agree to be my wife.”

  Above him the stars seemed to burn brighter in the sky and cast their twinkling light to reflect in Caroline’s eyes. Eyes that softened as they gazed at him. “Ja, Jonas Switzer. I will.”

  Joy broke over him, and he could not stop a smile from stretching across his face. “You will not be sorry.” He made his words a vow. “The life we build together will be gut. I promise it will be a gut life! We will have sons—many strong strapping sons to work the land and build their heritage.”

  “And perhaps daughters?”

  “Ja—perhaps,” he agreed. “But sons for certain!”

  She raised a hand and placed it against his clean-shaven cheek. After they married he would grow a beard in the tradition of the Amish, but for now he reveled in the soft touch of her fingers on his skin. “I will raise your sons and daughters and make you a happy home, Jonas.” Her grin broke free, and she turned the full force of it upon him. “A home in the West.”

  With slow, deliberate movements, Jonas leaned toward her. How often had he dreamed of this moment, when he could take Caroline in his arms and declare his love? Delicate eyelids closed as she lifted her face to his. Their lips touched, and a prayer of thanksgiving welled up from his overflowing heart.

  Danki, Gott. Danki for my Caroline.

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