A Plain and Simple Heart (The Amish of Apple Grove)

by Virginia Smith

  From where he sat, Colin saw a red stain creep up her slender neck. “He is a friend.”

  A beau? Colin shifted his weight in his chair. Had he spurned her, maybe? Run off with someone else? Or was this another tale to cover up the real reason for her presence in town?

  “I see. And I understand you claim to have arrived on the five forty from Hays City last night?” The judged eyed her.

  The laces hanging from her head covering swung when she jerked a distrustful look sideways at Colin. He returned it calmly. Why shouldn’t he discuss what he knew with the judge? And he’d noted his suspicions about her presence too.

  Amish my foot.

  She faced forward again. “Yes, that is correct.”

  “How did you find your way to the Lucky Dollar in time to join a protest that had obviously been planned in advance?”

  “I followed other passengers, intending to find water and food and a room for the night. I did not know of plans for a protest.”

  “Hmm.” Tank’s stare turned skeptical. “And yet Sheriff Maddox says he saw you arrive and join the protesters without a moment’s hesitation.”

  The look Rebecca turned on him this time held a hint of anger. Colin kept his expression impassive. She was good. Her sincerity certainly made her look as though she was speaking the truth.

  Annie’s commanding voice filled the courtroom. “Of what is the child accused, your honor?” She made the last two words sound like an insult.

  The judge’s gaze hardened. “Of nothing yet. All I’m doing so far is trying to get the truth out of this young woman.”

  Her head snapped forward. “I have spoken the truth, sir.”

  “And yet you must admit that your story is heavily reliant upon coincidence.” He leaned forward over the desk. “I don’t put much stock in coincidence.”

  The narrow shoulders stiffened beneath the heavy black dress. “I have spoken the truth,” she repeated, this time in a louder voice. “Dishonesty is not tolerated in an Amish community.”

  “I’m sure it’s not, but how do I know you’re really Amish?” The judge’s gaze settled on Colin with a conspiratorial wink.

  Though she still faced the judge, Rebecca’s gaze held Colin’s, and he felt himself begin to wither beneath the fire that erupted in her eyes. The same indignant anger he’d witnessed last night had returned.

  She did not look away as she spoke. “There is a saying in my house: Honesty sees honesty. Perhaps he who has no truth in him cannot recognize it in others.”

  Tittering laughter arose from the women onlookers. Colin remained expressionless. The insult was meant for him, he had no doubt, but the judge apparently thought the barb was directed at him.

  Tank grew still behind the desk. “Young woman, what did you say?”

  Anyone with a lick of sense could hear the warning in his tone. Colin didn’t doubt that Rebecca had sense—normally. But at the moment her face was covered with angry red blotches and the hands that had clutched each other a minute before now clenched and unclenched at her sides. Her chest heaved with fury.

  “She’s right!” Annie leaped up from her chair, a finger held high in the air. “There is no honesty in this town or in this courtroom. Not when men profit from the destruction of others.”

  “Mrs. Diggs, I order you to be silent or you’ll be removed from the court.” The judge’s command rose above the female voices who were shouting their agreement. “Yours is not the testimony I am hearing at the moment.”

  “Speak for us, Rebecca!” someone cried.

  Colin straightened. Now it was getting out of hand. If there was a shred of truth in her tale, and he was beginning to suspect there might be, this little gal was messing around in a pasture she knew nothing about, and she was about to disturb a mean ol’ bull. Rebecca, still glaring at Colin, opened her mouth to speak. He pressed a finger to his lips in warning.

  With a toss of her head that sent her laces flying, she turned away from him and toward the judge.

  “I did not come with the intention of joining a protest, but since I arrived I have discovered deception and deceit. It is no wonder Amish men and women hold themselves separate from the world. Those in positions of authority here make money from the illegal trade of liquor. The law is not enforced.” She sent another quick glare in Colin’s direction. “Truth is held in disregard.” She folded her arms across the front of her apron. “It is time for reform.”

  The ladies erupted in a cheer. Rebecca smiled, clearly pleased with herself.

  Oh, brother. That did it.

  Colin had never seen Tank so angry, not even when Louis Baldridge’s mule got spooked and ran his wagon through the front wall of the bank. While the women cheered, a purple stain colored his face, and his eyes fairly bulged. The gavel crashed down on his desk again and again.

  “Young lady, you are in contempt of this court! I find you guilty of disturbing the peace—twice!” He rose from his chair, placed his palms on his desk, and leaned forward. “The fine will be one hundred dollars or ninety days in jail.”

  The cheers ceased. A collective gasp rose from everyone in the courtroom, Colin’s louder than anyone else’s. A hundred dollars? Why, nobody could come up with that amount, much less a gal who barely looked sixteen years old.

  A shocked silence followed the gasp. Rebecca’s mouth had fallen open wider than a jar of pickles at a church supper. Tank abruptly headed toward the exit. At the door he turned and shouted at the assembled women.

  “The next time I see any of you in my courtroom, you’ll get the same. That goes double for you, Annie Diggs. And you can print that in your paper too. Now go home. Case dismissed!”

  His gavel hit the door frame with a fierce blow as he swept through the door and then slammed it behind him.

  All the vinegar had gone out of Rebecca at the pronouncement of her sentence. She turned slowly toward Colin, her eyes glittering with tears.

  “I’m going back to jail?”

  He struggled to justify the severity of the sentence. True, she’d prodded where she shouldn’t, but Colin couldn’t help feeling partly to blame. After all, if he hadn’t told Tank he suspected her arrival was the signal of a bigger plan to cause trouble in Lawrence, the judge might not have gotten so fired up.

  Now he had trouble.

  NINE

  Rebecca sat in the chair behind the sheriff’s desk and tried to staunch the flow of tears with Mrs. Evans’ lilac-scented handkerchief while Annie Diggs paced the length of the small jailhouse.

  “There, there, dear.” Worried lines deepened the creases in the elderly lady’s face. “Don’t worry. We’ll think of something.”

  “How can I not worry?” Rebecca drew in a shuddering breath. “I don’t have one hundred dollars. No one I know has one hundred dollars.”

  She cast a miserable look at the empty cells. Short of a miracle, one of them would be her home for the next ninety days. And miracles were in short supply for disobedient Amish girls who lost their tempers and loosed their tongues instead of holding them.

  If only I had listened to the bishop’s sermons more closely. If only I had heeded Maummi’s lessons about hot heads and wagging tongues.

  “I’m sure the sheriff will convince the judge to change his mind.”

  No doubt Mrs. Evans intended to sound hopeful, but her words were heavy with doubt.

  After the judge had left the room, Colin appeared as dumbstruck as everyone else. He had asked Mrs. Evans to accompany Rebecca to the jail and wait for him while he talked with Judge Tankersley. At least Rebecca had been spared the indignity of being led to jail by a lawman.

  Mrs. Diggs paused in her pacing. “We will fight. We have the power of the press behind us, and that is no small thing.” Her eyes fairly glowed with determination. “The next issue of the Liberal will include a rousing article sure to inspire support for the movement.”

  Rebecca lowered the handkerchief. A spark of hope flickered to life. “Will the movement free me from
jail?”

  The woman didn’t quite meet her eye. “In time, I have no doubt we shall emerge victorious.”

  The spark sputtered. “How much time?”

  “As quickly as need be.” Her hand waved vaguely in the air. “A week perhaps. Maybe two.”

  A sob escaped. “But I must find Jesse and return home.”

  Mrs. Evans’ fingers patted Rebecca’s back comfortingly. “And so you shall, but in the meantime you shall become a symbol of perseverance, of morality, of justice for our cause. Nothing worthwhile comes without a cost.”

  Rebecca was beginning to see that. The cost of finding true love had already proven to be higher than she anticipated. Would the price prove worthwhile in the end?

  Mrs. Diggs halted in front of the desk, her smile wide with triumph. “My dear, you were magnificent. Not many can maintain their composure and speak with eloquence in the face of such persecution. The movement needs women of your caliber.”

  Nestled within the flattering words was an invitation. Rebecca wasn’t exactly sure what was being asked, but she was certain she had no interest in becoming a symbol of anything, especially if it meant spending two weeks in jail.

  “I am none of those things. I am but a Plain girl from Apple Grove.”

  “That is exactly what we need,” Mrs. Diggs insisted. “Wars are waged by generals, but battles are won by soldiers. You, my dear, are a valiant soldier.”

  “No.” Rebecca shook her head. “Amish do not fight. We are peace loving and meek.” A flush threatened to flood her face. Her behavior thus far had been anything but meek.

  “Perfect.” The woman straightened, her smile triumphant. “What did our Lord say? ‘Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.’ Our battle shall be a peaceful one.”

  The look Mrs. Evans turned on Mrs. Diggs echoed Rebecca’s own concern.

  “What battle are we talking about?”

  “A protest, of course. The idea has just occurred to me. We shall not congregate before a single establishment but march through the streets of Lawrence. Peacefully,” she added with a nod at Rebecca.

  “But isn’t that what we did last night?” Mrs. Evans asked. “And I must say, that didn’t turn out exactly as we’d hoped.”

  “This will be different.” Passion burned in Mrs. Diggs’ eyes. “This time we have a mission.”

  Rebecca exchanged a glance with Mrs. Evans. So far she had no idea what was being asked of her. “What is our mission?”

  “Why, to set you free, and in doing so to send a message. We shall raise one hundred dollars, and when we have done so, we shall engage in a victory march. I’ll send word to our sisters in the East.” Her hands trembled with enthusiasm. “We shall start at one end of town and march down every street, arm in arm, in a peaceful show of solidarity for one of our own who is persecuted. And you, my dear, shall lead us.”

  She ended with one fist raised high in the air.

  Hope rose once again within Rebecca. With a powerful woman like Annie Diggs working on her behalf, perhaps she would see her way clear of this mess after all. But two weeks? Well, that was far better than three months.

  One thing still weighed her down. “But what about Jesse?” Fresh tears blurred her vision as she turned her gaze up to Mrs. Evans. “How will I go to him in Cider Gulch if I am in jail?”

  “Oh, that.” Mrs. Diggs waved a hand. “I neglected to mention that my husband has business in Missouri next week. He has agreed to seek out your beau and deliver your message.” She smiled across the desk.

  Was this entire trip for naught, then? If she had wanted to send a letter, she could have done that from Apple Grove. “I need to see him. He must hear my message from my own lips.”

  “Then you shall. Alvin can be extremely persuasive. He will bring your young man to Lawrence.” The smile she awarded Rebecca held no hint of uncertainty. “Those of the movement take care of our own.”

  An image of Jesse loomed in her mind, striding in from the field at eventide, a smile lighting up his face when he caught sight of her waiting by the house. She straightened her shoulders. No price was too great for love.

  “What would you have me do?”

  Colin stood in the corner of the judge’s chamber behind the courtroom, well out of the man’s path. Mayor Bowerstock dominated a chair in the far corner.

  “Did you see the way that Diggs woman prodded me?” The alarming purple hue of Tankersley’s face had settled into a furious red. His voice rose in a feminine mockery. “‘We stand on the side of the law and of morality.’ Bah! Blatant defiance of my position in this town, that’s what it was.”

  Colin kept his reply even toned. “She’s a trial, no doubt about it.”

  Bowerstock spoke up. “A trial? She’s a menace, that’s what she is. If she had her way, women would be running the town, and then where would we be?”

  As far as Colin was concerned, there were one or two women in Lawrence who could do a better job than some of the existing members of the town council, but he kept his opinion to himself.

  The judge paused to glower toward the mayor. “Did you see the way she led the others? They sat when she sat, stood when she stood, and agreed with every word she said. And the new girl.” He raised a finger and stabbed it in Colin’s direction. “You were right about her, Maddox. Sweet little female dressed up like a puritan. They brought her in from somewhere to try to make us look like brutes tormenting an innocent.”

  Colin fingered the brim of his hat. “Well now, maybe I was a bit hasty. She was mighty convincing. She sounded truthful to me.”

  “Truthful? Did you hear what she said? She called me dishonest!”

  “Actually, I think she was calling me dishonest—”

  The judge dismissed the exchange. “She was aiming for both of us with the same stone. All three of us, actually.” He swept a hand to include the mayor. “We hold positions of authority. We’re in this thing together. An insult to one is an insult to all.”

  Colin cleared his throat. Judge Tankersley had pinpointed the exact reason he’d decided to hang up his badge. If he were going to make a stand with someone, it wouldn’t be with these two, and it wouldn’t be defending a saloon. “Still, a hundred dollars or ninety days? Don’t you think that’s a little steep?”

  “I do not.” Bushy gray eyebrows gathered over stormy eyes. “We have to put a stop to these women now or there’ll be no controlling them. It’s not just Annie Diggs, either. This group of theirs is everywhere. Ohio. Boston. New York.”

  “It’s true.” Bowerstock planted his feet and leaned forward in the chair over his round belly. “Why, if they have their way, every saloon in this country will have to shut its doors.”

  Over the past two years Colin had kept his opinions to himself and done the work the mayor and the council gave him. After all, as he’d been told many times, his job wasn’t to mess around in politics; it was to keep the town clear of outlaws and safe for the townsfolk. Same was true all over Kansas. Some things were best left to politicians. But he’d never had a young woman in his jail before. And right or wrong, he felt responsible for putting her there.

  Swallowing back reluctance, he faced the men. “Well, now, liquor sales are against the law. Maybe not in Ohio and New York, but they are in Kansas.”

  The judge lifted his head slowly, incredulity etched on his features. “Don’t tell me you side with these…these teetotalers.”

  Colin raised a hand. “I’m not siding with anybody. I’m just saying they have a point.”

  “I don’t care about their point!” The judge’s face once again purpled with the shout. “And I order you not to care about it, either.”

  Colin’s spine became stiff as a rod. “Pardon me?”

  Bowerstock’s voice took on a wheedling tone. “Now, Maddox, you have two more weeks as sheriff in this town, and after that you can have any opinion you want.”

  “That’s right.” The judge’s shout echoed harshly in the room. “Until
then your job is to keep people from killing each other and carry out the sentences of this court. That’s what you’re being paid to do, and that’s what I expect you to do.”

  Blood buzzed in Colin’s ears. Since being put in charge of keeping the peace in Lawrence, he’d never wanted to punch anyone as badly as he did now. His hat brim crumpled in his tightening grip.

  Mustering his resolve, he said calmly, “How about if I leave right now, and the town can keep the rest of its money?”

  Bowerstock drew in a sharp breath. The judge’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment there was no sound in the room.

  Colin returned Tankersley’s stare. In the ensuing silence, a list of reasons leaving now was a good idea formed in Colin’s mind. He could do that. He could pack his bags, put on his hat, and leave. Half a month’s pay wouldn’t make or break his plans. His deputies could handle things until Mulhaney arrived. They were good men. Not real aggressive, but decent enough deputies, though not one of the five was ready, or even willing, to step into a sheriff’s boots for two weeks.

  As the seconds dragged on, Colin felt as though the badge on his vest gained weight. It represented a commitment he’d made, a responsibility he’d agreed to take on. And there was Rebecca, who waited at the jail to begin her sentence, thanks in part to him. Why her presence in his jail should make a difference, he couldn’t imagine. But for some unaccountable reason, it did.

  Tankersley’s features were alive with a visible struggle to regain his composure. He and the mayor exchanged a long glance. When the judge finally spoke, his voice contained a semblance of equanimity.

  “Look, Maddox, we may not agree on political matters, but let’s not make any hasty decisions. If word spreads that Lawrence is without a sheriff, even for a short time, every outlaw in the territory will be in town by nightfall tomorrow.”

  “We’ll have chaos in the streets,” Bowerstock added. “People will get hurt. None of us want that.”

  With a sense of relief, Colin nodded. “You’re right about that.”

  “All right. Good.” The judge lowered his bulk into his chair, clearly relieved.