The Saddle Maker's Son Part 16

Where Jesse had once worked. In his father's store. If the thought brought pain or shame to him, he didn't show it. "I'll call as soon as I have a plan of action."

"We appreciate your help." Tobias slapped his hat on his head. "In the meantime, we'll take care of Lupe and Diego. All of us."

"Gut." Jesse slipped around the desk. He stopped just short of Rebekah's chair. "It's almost lunchtime. You're welcome to come to the house. Leila always fixes plenty. It's hard for her to cook for just three." His gaze slid toward Mordecai. "She'd love to see you. All of you."

"We have to get back." Mordecai's tone was kind but firm. "Remember, you are always welcome to come home. Your mudder and daed pray for it every day. As do we all."

"I'm doing the Lord's work." Jesse's tone was equally firm. "So is Leila."

That decision had cost so much. Hurt so much. Still, the only recourse was forgiveness. Rebekah stepped in front of Jesse and held out her arms. He walked into her hug with no hesitation. "Give her my love," she whispered in his ear. "We miss you."

He leaned in closer, his breath tickling her ear. "I'll tell her you found someone. She'll be so happy."

"Nee, I-"

"Take care." He squeezed her arm and backed away. His gaze went to the two men. "Thank you for coming to me with this. I appreciate that."

Tobias edged toward the door. "Rebekah said you know about these things."

"If you minister in this part of the country, you can't help but know about it. That's the sad, sad truth."

They were silent for a few seconds. Mordecai cleared his throat. "We'll go, then."

Her checks still burning at Jesse's observation, Rebekah went first. What had made him say such a thing? Did something show on her face? Tobias's face? If he felt anything, he hadn't revealed it to her.

Once again she skipped to keep up. Mordecai's long, swinging stride picked up the pace. He might be afraid she would be affected by Jesse's fervor and his commitment to his mission. That would never happen, but somehow, they couldn't seem to trust her.

She glanced back. Jesse had followed them down the hallway. He gave her a small half wave. "Talk to you soon."

That seemed unlikely.

Tobias stepped into her line of sight. Had he heard what Jesse said in her ear? Surely not. "Let's go."

"I'm going."

"We have to get home."

His emphasis on the word home wasn't lost on her. "I know that."

"Just making sure."

What did he know about any of this? She picked up her pace. So did he. "What's wrong with you?"

"I have experience with how green the gra.s.s can be on the other side of the fence."

"I don't. I'm perfectly happy with the gra.s.s on my side of the fence." She slipped through the door he held for her-somehow it didn't seem as nice now. More of his effort to put s.p.a.ce between her and the church. "Besides, since Leila left, I've been given no opportunity whatsoever to walk barefoot in the gra.s.s that's growing beyond that fence you're talking about."

"Which is as it should be."

"What does it matter to you?"

Red scurried across Tobias's face. His mouth opened. It closed. He let the door slam shut. "You're right. Sorry."

A man had said she was right. And said he was sorry.

Again, wonders never ceased.

TWENTY.

Heat melted away knots of uncertainty. Tobias leaned against the corral fence, the early May sun beating on his face. No matter what others said, he liked a heat that seeped into a body and warmed from head to foot. No more snow. No more ice. No more icy void inside.

He heaved a breath and enjoyed the scent of dirt and manure and the way his daed handled Bobbie McGregor's horse. Over a week's time they'd graduated from the blanket on his back to a saddle. Today was the day that the toffee-colored quarter horse with a deep-black mane and tail would learn the art of carrying a rider. So far he'd been fairly eager to please but was on the flighty side. Whoever had begun his training had left him with a few bad habits. He seemed shy and uncertain, unusual for the normally even-tempered quarter horse.

Daed exuded patience with horses, just as he did with kinner. He was a patient man in most regards. Tobias had tried his patience on numerous occasions, but he'd never seen the man raise his voice or his hand in anger. Horses responded to his hand and his voice, infinitely soft and warm.

Soft and warm. Two words that made him think of Rebekah. He leaned his forehead against the fence post for a second and groaned. Since the meeting with Jesse, he hadn't been able to get her out of his head. The girl didn't understand a woman's place, of that he had no doubt. She talked when she shouldn't. She hugged a man who'd left the community and taken her sister with him. The man was her brother-in-law, so why did it bother Tobias? He couldn't say why. Maybe because she'd looked so longingly at the man. Because she'd been so transparently interested in the church and everything about it. As if she might be considering what it might be like to go there on a regular basis.

He had already shown he was not a good judge of women when it came to relations.h.i.+ps. He needed to watch himself. Yet when he closed his eyes that night after their return home, she'd been there, messing with his mind. Her smile. The way she looked at him with those bright blue eyes as if she knew something he didn't. She had gotten under his skin somehow. No doubt about it.

"What you are doing?" Bobbie's scent of roses arrived before she did. She slid in next to Tobias, a frosty can of Dr Pepper in one hand. She wore jeans so faded they were almost white in the knees and behind, along with a blue T-s.h.i.+rt that read COWGIRLS DRIVE TRUCKS and well-worn cowboy boots. "You look like you have a headache. Better get over it quick. Your dad is going to need your help with Cracker Jack."

"What kind of name is Cracker Jack for a horse?"

"My kind of horse, my kind of name." She sipped from the soda and grinned. "What? You think his name should be Toffee or something?"

"It should be whatever you want it to be, I reckon."

"You should see Ariel, my thoroughbred, the one I do barrel racing with. Now, there's a piece of horseflesh. Cracker Jack is different. I saw him and I knew he needed some loving. He needed an owner who would whip him into shape and turn him into a working horse." She threw her free hand into the air like a bronco rider attempting to keep his seat during a buck. "Love at first sight."

Tobias couldn't help but laugh. "Horses are easy to love."

Much easier than people.

"That they are. I'm an animal person myself. They love you no matter what and they don't talk back. They sure never break your heart."

Who had broken her heart? She didn't look like the type to wear it on her sleeve. "I suppose that's true."

"I don't suppose you do any barrel racing?"

"Nope."

"You should come watch me race when the county fair comes to Beeville." She leaned closer, her eyes bright with humor and something else. Curiosity. He'd seen that look before. Something about Plain men presented a challenge for certain Englisch girls. He'd fallen for that once, but never again.

Serena would say never say never. Or some such silly thing. Then she'd smile that smile and have him hooked all over again.

"Not something I have time for, but thank you for the invitation." He sidestepped, putting more s.p.a.ce between them. "Cracker Jack has a nice structure. His body should take the pounding for cutting the herd well."

"Yep. I won't be riding him when he's working, but Dad's ranch hands are good with horses. They appreciate a good working horse."

"They need any saddles? We do the basic cutting saddle." He would keep his mind on business. Period. "Give you a good price."

"I'll spread the word to them. You know how it is. They go through them fast, but it's a big investment to replace one." She pulled herself up the fence, flung one leg over, and balanced herself on the top rung. "Cracker Jack had a rough start. The people that sold him said they rescued him from some guy who didn't take care of him. But that's okay. He'll rebound fast. What's next?"

"Next Daed rides him." David strode across the yard from the shop. He tugged the brim of his straw hat down against the sun and grinned at Bobbie. Tobias might as well have been in another state. "I didn't miss anything, did I?"

"Nope."

"Just talking horseflesh and barrel riding." Bobbie slapped at a fly the size of her finger. "There's an exhibition at the fairgrounds this weekend. Y'all should go. It's fun and the horses are beautiful."

David flushed beet red. "I-"

"He has work to do." Tobias would draw his last breath before he would let his younger brother experience the pain he'd dragged himself through with bad decisions and worse judgment. Bobbie seemed like a nice woman, but she was Englisch and David didn't need to get tangled up in that. "Let's get in there and help Daed."

Tobias pushed through the gate, David on his heels, his face still mottled red. They made their way to where Daed had the horse tethered. Tobias's breath quickened as it did every time. A twelve-hundred pound horse could do some damage when spooked or downright angry. "You ready?"

Daed nodded. As he had done every day for the last week, he laid the red saddle blanket over the horse's back. The horse nickered, an anxious sound, and shook his head. "Easy, boy, easy, hush, big guy."

Daed's murmurings reminded Tobias of the nights when he'd listened to him rock Liam to sleep as a fussy newborn baby missing his mama's milk. Whispered lullabies in a gruff voice tight with unshed tears. Always unshed within earshot of the eight other kinner in that house who all cried their own tears many nights, their sobs m.u.f.fled in pillows, after Mudder's pa.s.sing.

The saddle went next. Tobias stroked Cracker Jack's forehead and whispered his own sweet nothings. The horse's glance was watchful, worried. His breath quivered and his lips spread apart, revealing a set of teeth ready to nip.

Now the cinching part. Cracker Jack two-stepped backward and tossed his head up and down.

"You sure he's ready for this?" Tobias tightened his grip on the reins and held steady. David stayed close, his expression watchful. "He's awful skittish."

Daed's gaze never wavered from the horse. "He's a little nervous, but he's ready. He has to learn to trust us."

Still murmuring sweet nothings, Daed eased his boot into the stirrup and put his weight into it. His right leg swung over the horse's body and he landed softly in the saddle.

Cracker Jack snorted and reared. His back arched. His long neck and head lowered in a second arch.

The force of his determination knocked Tobias back half a dozen steps. He hung on to the reins for dear life, but it didn't matter. The horse bucked and swiveled and bucked again, screaming in fear all the while.

Daed gripped the horn with one hand, his other flung in the air like a bronco rider. It did no good. A second mighty buck by the enormous, powerful creature sent him flying.

The sickening crunch of bone against sun-hardened earth echoed in Tobias's ears. He fought to control the animal. The reins jerked from his grasp as Cracker Jack fought with every ounce of strength to remove that alien weight from his back. His front hooves battled air. He reared on his back legs, front hooves flailing.

Tobias scrambled back and back until he found himself wedged against the fence.

David flapped his arms and yelled. "Haw, haw, come on, back off, haw!"

The horse whirled. His hooves trampled Daed.

Daed didn't move. He didn't cry out. His straw hat lay crumpled just beyond the reach of his outstretched, motionless hand.

"Daed? Daed!"

Nothing.

Choked with apprehension, Tobias stumbled forward, flapping both arms. "Move on, move on, haw."

Cracker Jack ducked his head and whinnied, a fierce, high sound. He raced away, circling the corral fence.

Aware of Bobbie shoving through the gate and racing across the dirt, Tobias dashed to his father and dropped to his knees. "Daed?"

Blood seeped from a cut across his cheek. One leg twisted at an unnatural, painful-looking angle. His eyes were closed, his features flaccid. "Wake up. We have to get you up. You're okay, we just need to get you up."

"Is he dead?" David's voice cracked. He dropped to his knees, his anguish etched across a face exactly like his father's. "He can't be dead. We have to get him help. Help me lift him."

He shoved his arms under Daed's limp body and tried to lift. "Come on, help me."

"We need an ambulance." Tobias put a hand on his brother's shoulders. "We have to wait."

"Don't move him. It could make it worse." Bobbie had a cell phone to her ear. She crouched next to Tobias. "Don't touch him. I'm getting help."

"It'll take too long for an ambulance to get here." David jerked away from Tobias's touch. "We can put him in your truck and drive him to Beeville."

"Bobbie's right. If the horse stepped on his back, we can't chance moving him." Tobias kept his voice soft, his own desire to do something, anything, welling inside him, making it hard to breathe. "We'll make it worse."

Bobbie talked into the phone for a few seconds and muttered, "Yup." She slapped it into her front pocket. "They're on their way. Stay with him. I'll deal with Cracker Jack."

Cracker Jack stood at the far end of the corral, reins dragging the ground, his flanks wet with lather. Within seconds, she had sweet-talked him into letting her remove the saddle and tie him to a fence post. The raging animal of a few minutes earlier had disappeared, leaving behind a docile creature who searched his owner's pockets for apples or carrots.

"He's not a bad horse." She knelt next to Tobias. Her hands shook. "He's been badly treated in the past."

"I know."

It would take time, too much time, for the ambulance to arrive. Tobias wanted to holler. He wanted to throw Daed over his shoulder and carry him to help. Instead, he bowed his head and breathed. He leaned closer, squeezed his father's unresponsive hand, and whispered, "Wake up, Daed, please wake up."

TWENTY-ONE.

The jars of freshly canned tomatoes glistened in the sunlight that glowed through the kitchen window. The aroma reminded Susan of homemade spaghetti sauce. Of suppers spent around the table as kinner when Mordecai had been on a practical joke streak a mile long and Mudder and Daed pretended to bicker over her cooking or his dirty clothes. It smelled like contentment. Steam billowed from the mammoth pans of tomatoes and green beans on the stove, alongside the wet bath filled with sterilized jars ready to receive their bounty. Sweat dripped down her temples and tickled her cheeks. She wiped the edges of the jar mouth with care not to let the towel touch the contents. "This one is ready for a lid."