by Jan Drexler
Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned to see Jacob.
“You feel like playing too?” She smiled, but Jacob didn’t return it.
“I don’t like the thought of you girls alone with the young ones.”
She stopped at the gate to the lower meadow. “Because of our visitors?”
“Because they might not be alone.”
“What do you mean?”
Jacob’s gaze took in the meadows before he leveled it on her. “Strangers can’t always be trusted. Those three may be a distraction so that their companions can ransack our wagons, or . . .” He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose you think I’m too suspicious.”
“Strangers have come by our farm before, and even eaten with us and camped in our fields. Daed often provides hospitality to travelers.”
“Don’t these men seem different to you?”
Mattie shrugged. “They’re the same as other outsiders, aren’t they?”
Jacob shook his head. “I’m not sure what it is, but something about them doesn’t seem right. Why does only the oldest one do the talking? He seems like he’s the leader and the other two are his soldiers.” He looked back at the house, and then glanced over the meadows again. “It will be dark soon. Don’t let any of the children wander off. I’m going to check on the horses.”
As he made his way along the fence toward the creek where the horses grazed, Mattie ran back to the house. She hadn’t seen anything suspicious about the strangers, other than their obvious hunger. She peeked around the corner of the house. The women chatted quietly as they cleaned up from supper, and the men sat or stood around the table where the strangers leaned on their elbows, finishing their meals. The oldest one, the leader according to Jacob, was speaking. Mattie couldn’t hear him clearly, but whatever tale he was telling was keeping the men laughing.
She could see the speaker’s face from where she stood. Someone had lit a lamp and set it on the table in their midst, and the light shone on him. His mouth was broad and his teeth gleamed in the light. He wore a mustache with his short beard, and his dark eyes were black jewels that flashed as he watched his listeners. Mattie found herself taking a step forward, but Retreated. Something about him drew her—was that the same thing that Jacob had seen and had made him suspicious? But she saw and felt nothing dangerous. She even laughed when the men did, even though she hadn’t heard the joke.
With reluctant steps, she turned to go back to the meadow to help with the children. Perhaps Daed would invite the strangers to travel with them in the morning. There must be a way for her to meet him.
Jacob checked the horses, counting them as they grazed or rested, scattered over the grass. All was quiet. None of the animals even flicked an ear.
He circled them and approached the wagons from behind the camp. He heard no sound other than the birds in the hedges and the children’s game in the distance. He continued on to the small walled-in pen near the road.
The ewes were lying in the grass with their legs tucked under, chewing their cuds. The ram, young and energetic, paced along the far wall, his nose lifted up, and his half-grown horns reflecting the light from the lanterns in the farmyard. Three-year-old William had called him “Bam” when the ram first arrived on the farm back along the Conestoga Creek, and the name had stuck. Bam would settle down with the ewes as the sky grew darker. The rest of the sheep were so used to Jacob’s presence they didn’t lift their heads to take notice of him.
When he reached the house again, the group was breaking up. The families moved toward their houses or the campsite. Tomorrow morning would start early, with the last-minute packing and hitching up of the wagons taking place in the early hours just after dawn.
Jacob fell in step next to Daed as they followed the other Conestoga men toward their camp. The Bates brothers—Cole, Hiram and Darrell—led their saddle horses as they walked at the head of the group with Eli Schrock.
“What are they doing?” Jacob leaned toward Daed with his question.
Daed grunted. “Eli has given them permission to camp near us tonight. They insisted.”
Jacob pulled Daed to the side, letting the others pass by. “I’m not sure that is a wise thing to do. They’re strangers.”
Daed laid his hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “I know, but Eli and I thought it best to have them camp near, where we can see them, rather than trust them too much.”
“So you aren’t sure of them, either?”
“Ne, son.” Daed looked after the group as they turned toward the circle of wagons. “Something doesn’t seem right about those young men, in spite of how friendly they seem. I hate to be so suspicious, but there are evil people in the world.”
“I’ll take the first turn standing watch tonight. I’ll wake Josef at midnight, and he can take over then.”
As they reached the camp, Mattie and the others brought the children from the meadow where they had been playing and everyone prepared to turn in for the night. The Bates brothers tethered their horses to stakes in the space between the wagons and the road, then rolled out their bedrolls near the middle of the circled wagons. Jacob normally slept near the campfire, keeping it burning by adding wood as he woke now and then through the night, but tonight, with no fire, he made his bed close to the green wagon, where Daniel and Mary Nafsinger, the older couple going only as far as Ohio, slept. There he would be able to keep watch on their visitors.
Josef stopped on his way to the canvas tent where he and Hannah slept. “If you need my help, don’t wait to call.”
“For sure.”
Jacob looked around the camp, his eyes accustomed to the growing darkness. Mamm shooed Margli, Peter, and William into the big wagon where they would sleep on pallets on top of the crates, while the Hertzlers, at the far end of the circle, gathered their family together. Johanna often slept in a lean-to attached to their wagon with her sisters, thirteen-year-old Susanna and seven-year-old Barbli, but tonight they stayed inside the wagon with the rest of the family. It seemed that Elias Hertzler agreed with Daed when it came to trusting their guests.
The quiet voices throughout the campsite drifted off as families soon settled into sleep. Jacob pulled a blanket around his shoulders and nestled into the soft grass. Mary Nafsinger had given him a bundle to use as a pillow, and he put it against a wagon wheel where he could lie with his head propped up.
He watched the Bates trio. Jacob had never seen brothers that looked less alike than those three. Cole was handsome enough, but the other two reminded Jacob of a couple weasels looking for a hole in the chicken yard fence.
The three sat in the dark opposite the wagons, talking in low tones that barely carried across the short space to Jacob’s blanket. He could recognize Cole’s voice. The words were indistinct, but the tone was calm. Assured. The other two seemed to be arguing with him, their voices cajoling.
One of the brothers raised his voice in a whine. “We’re going to lose our chance.”
Cole hushed him. Jacob saw the starlight gleam in his eyes as he looked toward the wagons. His voice continued for a few more minutes, and then all three of them lay down where they were. Jacob waited until they were still, and then glanced around the rest of the camp. All was quiet.
He scooted further into his blankets. The night air was cool and damp. A yawn overtook him and he shifted again. If he let himself get too comfortable, he wouldn’t be able to stay awake until his watch was over. He searched the stars, locating the Big Dipper. He’d be able to tell it was midnight when the handle was directly over the barn roof across the road.
Glancing over at the Bates brothers, Jacob blinked, and then sat up. There were only two dark mounds. He stood up, looking all around the camp. He could see no movement at all. Keeping an eye on the still forms in the grass, Jacob stepped around the wagon to the starlit space between the camp and a woodlot. He circled from one end of the camp to the other, but there was no sign of the missing Bates brother.
Jacob stopped at the far end
of the camp, in the shadow of the Hertzlers’ big wagon. Which brother was missing? The whine he had overheard echoed in his head. What chance were they going to lose?
A short neigh from the pasture where the horses were bedded down for the night pulled Jacob in that direction, following the slope of the meadow toward the creek. As he slipped over the split rail fence, he saw the horses standing in the starlight, their heads all pointing toward the gate at the far side. A figure stood there. Jacob watched as it walked slowly into the pasture. The horse closest to it stepped forward, stopped, and then tossed its head.
If Jacob moved, whoever was on the far side of the pasture would notice him, so he waited. It had to be the missing Bates brother, but what was he doing?
The figure reached for the closest horse, then circled its neck with his arm. He stood at the horse’s head, then moved back toward the gate. The horse followed him.
A cold hand twisted in Jacob’s gut. The horse was following because the man had tied a rope around its neck. It was being stolen, right in front of Jacob’s eyes. The dark figure walked out of the gate and toward the road.
Jacob took a deep breath. “Thief!” He yelled as loudly as he could. He needed to rouse the camp. “Horse thief! Stop!”
He ran to the gate. The horse reared, silhouetted against the starry sky, and the man bolted, leaving the horse behind. Jacob ran toward the wagons. He had to stop them before they could escape, but by the time Jacob reached the camp again, all three of the Bates brothers and their horses had disappeared.
Lights gleamed in the house behind him and lanterns were lit near the wagons. Jacob looked around, frantic. Cole and his brothers couldn’t be far away.
“What is it?” Daed stopped Jacob from going past them toward the road.
Jacob panted, trying to get his breath back. “They were stealing a horse. I saw them.”
Elias Hertzler held his lantern high in the air. “You saw them? But they aren’t here.”
“One of them was in the horse pasture. He had a rope on one of the horses and was leading it out.”
“Maybe it was one of their horses?” Old Daniel Nafsinger’s voice was calm and persuasive. “Could you have been mistaken?”
Jacob shook his head, but the rest of the men nodded in agreement with Daniel.
“Perhaps it was his own horse,” Daed said, stroking his beard. “Either way, they are gone now and the horses are safe. There is nothing more to do, so we’ll go back to bed.”
Josef Bender stepped close to Jacob as the older men went back to their families. “Are you all right? Will you be able to get some sleep?”
Jacob took a deep breath and whooshed it out. “The Bates brothers are gone, but they’ll be back. I don’t trust them. I know what I saw, but no one believes me.”
His brother-in-law cupped his hand around the chimney of his lantern and blew out the flame. “I believe you, Jacob, and I think the others do also. But they believe the danger has passed. Perhaps it has.”
“I’m going to keep watch in the horse pasture anyway. I don’t trust those three.”
As Josef made his way back to his tent, Jacob gathered his blanket and went to catch the horse Bates had tried to steal. It hadn’t gone farther than the well near the house and willingly followed Jacob back through the gate. It was Daed’s wheel horse, Beppli, and he would have been sorely missed if he had been stolen. Jacob untied the rope from the gelding’s neck and the horse greeted his teammates before reaching down to crop a few bites of grass.
Jacob fingered the short length of rope, scanning the edges of the pasture. If the Bates brothers tried again tonight, he’d make sure they didn’t succeed.
5
Friday morning was chaos. Every time Mattie started one task, Mamm called her away to do another. Since Naomi was watching their young nephews and nieces so that Isaac and Noah could get their families loaded and on the road west, every chore fell to Mattie. She carried piles of blankets to the tables still set up in front of the house and rolled several of them into a bundle.
The wagons were lined up on Glades Pike, the road that ran between their house and Annie’s and then west toward the final mountain range before the prairies. Six Conestoga wagons loomed over the low fences on either side of the pike, and two spring wagons followed behind. Daed had suggested using them for the families with little ones, since walking all the way to Indiana would be too hard for them.
Footsteps approached her from behind.
“Henry, can you help me?” She had seen her brother run past a moment ago, and she needed an extra pair of hands to tie the rolls of blankets.
“I’ll help.” A pair of strong hands grasped the bundle for her so that she could pull the rope tight. As she tied the last knot, she looked up into Jacob’s brown eyes.
“I couldn’t have done that without your help, but I thought you had already left with the sheep.”
“The sheep do best following behind. We’ll come last and let the sheep browse as they go.”
“Being last doesn’t sound like much fun.” Mattie rolled another pile of blankets into a bundle and Jacob held them again as she tied the rope. “I always like to see where we’re going.”
“And be the first one there?” Jacob’s voice held a teasing note.
“Don’t you want to see what is over those mountains?” She looked past Jacob’s shoulder toward the western hills. Today or tomorrow she would finally see the other side.
Jacob shrugged. “Whatever is there won’t disappear between the front wagon and the sheep following behind.”
Daed walked by with Mamm’s rocking chair. “This is the last, Mattie. Bring the blankets, and we’ll be ready to go.”
Jacob lifted the bundles. “Your daed is as anxious to leave as you are. Will he be driving the lead wagon today?”
“I hope so.”
“I thought you might want to help me herd the sheep, if you don’t mind following along behind.”
Mattie looked at his face, hopeful and waiting. Follow with the sheep? Mamm came out of the house, hurrying to Annie’s to say goodbye one last time. Mattie had said farewell to her sister last night, but this morning Mamm was beside herself with grief. All day long Mamm would ride in the spring wagon with her daughters-in-law Miriam and Emma and their little ones. Mattie imagined the long day of all of them fighting tears, and Naomi holding Mamm’s hand, grieving every mile of the way. Their sadness would ruin her anticipation.
“Perhaps I will help you. Riding in the wagons won’t be very much fun.”
Jacob grinned at her. “I’m not sure the sheep will be fun, but it will be interesting. Meet me at the sheep pen. We’ll start after all the wagons are gone.”
He left, heading down the road to where the Lancaster County folks were preparing their wagons. Mattie could see the men adjusting harnesses and making a final check of the wheels and running gear. Daed’s team stood quietly, already hitched to their old Conestoga wagon and ready to go. It was the same wagon that had brought their family west to Brothers Valley so long ago. That had been a happy time, with all of them anticipating their new home. But this move had Mamm in tears from the day Daed first mentioned it. Leaving Annie and her family behind was the worst part, but Mamm had loved the house and farm like they were part of the family.
“It’s only a building and some land,” Daed had said. “Our future, and our children’s future is more important.”
And so he had gotten Mamm to agree to the move, even though it pained her.
Mattie went to the flower bed by the front door and pulled a few weeds that had sprung up between the spring lilies. The violets were growing, but no buds had appeared yet. Her throat tightened. If she had thought about them last fall, she could have dug up some of the plants to take to Indiana. The violets that grew in this protected corner near the house were light blue, almost white, and she would never see them bloom again. Perhaps she could understand Mamm’s feelings after all. She touched the limestone wall of the house. The
re were memories here. They would take the memories with them, for sure, but without these reminders, would they stay fresh?
She opened the door and walked in. The rooms were empty and silent. Only the table and some chairs remained. The inglenook bench where she had warmed herself on so many cold nights faced an empty fireplace. Mamm had even asked her to sweep out the cold ashes before her cousins moved into the house.
She climbed the stairway to the bedroom she shared with Naomi on the west end of the house. She sat on the window seat and gazed out at the familiar scene. The fields, the creek, the woodlot . . . and rising behind them all, the western hills. Her melancholy dropped away at the sight. Today. Today she would go there. She jumped up, ran down the steps and out into the front yard. Enough saying farewell to the old. She was ready for adventure.
Daed called her over to the wagon. “You’ll ride with your mamm today?”
“Can Naomi do that? Jacob said I could help him with the sheep.”
Daed smiled. “You would like that. But don’t ignore Mamm. This is a hard day for her.”
“I know. I’ll check on her when we stop at noon.”
Daed’s team and wagon were ready to go, and the other wagons waited in line behind him. After Daed came the Bontragers, with Andrew riding the wheel horse, then the Yoders, and then the small, green wagon driven by Hannah’s husband, Josef. Following him were Isaac and Noah, with their families, and then the two spring wagons. Everyone gathered together next to the line of wagons, and Daniel Nafsinger prayed for their journey. Finally Daed started his team down the road, and they were on their way.
The wild desire to run past the wagons rushed through Mattie. If only she could be ahead of all of them, even Daed’s team, and be the first to step on the distant reaches of Glades Pike, where only Daed had been before. The blue crests of the mountains beckoned her, but she knew Daed wouldn’t let her go ahead. Instead, she closed the gate behind her with a final look at the empty house under the spreading oak trees, and ran down the road to the sheep pen.
