The Saddle Maker's Son Part 5

He frowned and shook his head. His beard bobbed. "Nee. Stay."

Stay? Like a hund? She bit her tongue and held back, counting to ten forward and backward. Not because Levi said so, but because the kinner were her responsibility. If Levi got bit, she would be the adult in charge of getting him help. She eyed the wagon. At least the horse was harnessed and ready to go. It took a long time to get from these parts into Beeville and the medical center.

"What's the matter?" Caleb sidled closer, his tone decidedly grown up for a twelve-year-old. Diego mimicked his moves, sidling up on her other side. "Levi will get them for sure."

"I don't like guns either. Guns or snakes."

"Which is worse?" Mary posed the question from her post in front of the smaller children.

"I'm not sure."

"Do the snakes come from eggs like chickens?"

"Nee, they are born alive, just like regular babies." Only with fangs full of venom and ready to strike. Susan tried not to sound too concerned. "They're not fluffy like baby chicks, you can be sure of that."

A shotgun blast pierced the air. Susan jumped in spite of herself. Diego shrieked and threw himself to the ground, arms over his head. Lupe barreled forward and collapsed on top of him, covering his body with her own.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's only Levi. Levi is taking care of the snakes." Susan knelt next to Lupe and laid her hand on the girl's heaving back. "It's Levi. Levi. You understand? Only Levi."

Lupe raised her head a few inches, her face smudged with dirt. "Gun, pow, pow! Hombres malos."

"No, no. It's only Levi killing snakes."

Lupe swiped at her face, smearing the dirt across her cheek and nose. She nodded and moved a few inches away from Diego. Whatever words she murmured to her brother seemed to help. He curled himself up in a ball close to Lupe, and the two huddled together on the ground.

Susan rose and strode to where Caleb stood, arms on his hips in an unconscious imitation of Mordecai. She threw her arm in front of him. "You stay here. I'll go."

He ducked his head and crossed his arms. "I'm old enough to help."

She glanced at the outhouse. No sign of Levi. She turned to Caleb. "Keep an eye on the kinner. If I don't come back with Levi, go for help. Leave Sally and Joseph in charge."

His expression mutinous, he nodded.

Hoe over her shoulder, Susan marched around the building, fighting the urge to tiptoe. She kept her gaze on the ground, willing her breakfast to stay put. No baby snakes curled around her shoes. Levi might need her help. He might have a rifle, but he could still be taken unaware by a rattler and end up with a bite. He was only a man. A tall, muscled man with eyes that lit up his tanned face. Susan shook her head. She was thinking like a teenage girl in the middle of a crisis.

Levi stood at the fence that separated the school property from the Englisch farmer whose field was turning green with alfalfa. He aimed and fired. Again, she jumped. "What is wrong with me?"

She marched across the field, hoe at the ready.

Levi leaned down, scooped up a snake about five or six feet long. He turned, the snake swinging limp from his hand. "What're you doing out here?"

"Helping."

If she didn't know better, she'd say his eyes rolled the way Caleb's did when she told him he needed to wash his hands before supper. "We covered that already. I told you to stay."

"I'm not a hund."

"Nee, you're not." This time he did smile. The transformation was instantaneous. A young man with eyes the color of a meadow in spring and a smile like the taste of homemade ice cream in summer looked at her for a split second. Then he was gone and Levi Byler, a widower with a face filled with sadness the color of winter, looked at her. "I would've noticed."

Susan breathed and concentrated on the offering in his huge, calloused hand. "So you got it?"

Levi glanced at his hand as if only now noticing what he held. "Done. For now. If there's one, there's surely more. The kinner shouldn't be running about barefoot."

"The closer it gets to summer, the harder it is to convince them of that." Susan averted her eyes from his prize-and from him. "Should we look for more?"

"We?"

"I'm capable of helping."

"You're capable of teaching the kinner to stay away from this field and to wear their shoes. That's your job." His gravelly tone softened. "But the thought is appreciated."

Put in her place but in such a kindly way she could hardly complain. "What'll you do with it?"

"Make a belt. Or some hatbands. The Englischers like that."

Levi moved past her. She whirled and skedaddled to keep up with his long strides. He slowed as they approached the kinner. They crowded closer, their faces filled with curiosity. Levi held up the snake. "Got it. You kinner stay out of the field and wear your shoes."

He glanced at Susan. "And do what Teacher says."

"We always do." Caleb offered the statement. He was right. They were good kinner. "Susan plays volleyball with us."

"Does she?" Levi tugged down the brim of his straw hat with his free hand. "I didn't see her playing last night."

"I was busy cleaning up spilled cookies because a person snuck up on me. On most nights that doesn't happen."

"I guess I'll have to come back on most nights." He tossed the snake in the back of the wagon and laid the rifle under the seat. "It's good that you've cleared the land where they play. Just be very careful around the wood stack and along the fence lines."

"Thankfully the need for wood has pa.s.sed."

He nodded. "Then I best get to work. Tobias is waiting for me at the shop."

"What about the babies?" Mary walked backward as she posed the question. "The babies were cute."

"Nee, they were not cute." Sally shook her head. "Ugh."

Levi climbed into the wagon and eased onto the seat. "I disposed of a few of them, but the rest are still out there, so be careful where you step. Stay in the cleared areas."

"Time for school." Long past time. Time to focus on her job, one that had been enough for her for years and years. That had not changed. The appearance of a new, mature, single man in Bee County had not changed things one whit. "Everyone inside. Get yourself ready for prayers and songs. Ida and Nyla are new. They get to pick today's songs."

Groaning, the kinner traipsed past her, still talking and giggling about the morning's adventure. Susan waited until the last one tromped through the door, then turned to Levi. Proper thanks were in order, nothing more. "It's good you came by when you did."

"I reckon so."

"Your help is appreciated."

"A person doesn't stand by under such circ.u.mstances."

Of course not. "Then I guess you'll be back by for the kinner later."

Silly thing to say. Of course he would.

"Either me or Tobias. Today. After that they'll know the lay of the land and Rueben can bring them."

"That's a good plan." As if he needed her approval. She crossed her arms over her middle, trying to think of a way to end the conversation that didn't make her sound like a silly goose. "I better get inside. I've asked Lupe to teach the kinner some Spanish words. Simple things like water and apples and bread. It's hard, though, with them not speaking English or German and the smaller kinner not understanding English or Spanish. Otherwise they could talk about geography and the customs in their country too."

She was running at the mouth.

Levi nodded but didn't say a thing. He snapped the reins. The wagon creaked and the horse whinnied in protest as it turned and headed for the road. Apparently he had nothing else to say.

Not to a silly goose, anyway.

EIGHT.

Nothing better than the smell of cowhide in the morning. Tobias grinned to himself as he followed David into the new saddle shop-what would soon be the saddle and leather shop. He left the door open, better to get some fresh air into the long, narrow room with its bare Sheetrock walls. Short, high windows sported curtains made from small, rectangular Indian blankets. The scarred wood floor needed sweeping of dust and the detritus of leather shavings.

He stretched his arms over his head, cranked his neck from side to side, and inhaled. The place smelled of dust, leather, and old wood. Lots of work to be done here. He felt at home already. It was good of Leroy and his sons to loan them the building next to the corral where the horses were trained. The Englischers would bring the horses and stop in to check out the saddles and leather goods.

Boxes of tools and leather goods they'd brought from Ohio sat along one wall waiting to be opened. They would go into town in a few weeks to see which stores might be interested in selling the smaller items-wallets, belts, holsters, koozies, hunting canteens, and shaving kits. All had sold well up north. Their meat and potatoes when the more expensive saddles weren't in high demand. Here, the market was as yet unknown. Tobias itched to get started with the leather work. Not the marketing so much. He had to do it. Daed had no use for it and David tended to run at the mouth and get little actual work done.

Morning sun burst through the dirty windows that faced the east. A good place to put the saddle maker's bench. He had a saddletree ready to go for the first custom job that came along. He needed lots of light to do the fancy tooling on the leather the Englischers liked. The shop needed some work, but Gott was good to provide this new start in a place where folks valued their horseflesh and the trappings that came with it.

"This place is a pit." David strode through the door, sniffed, and groaned, his green eyes squinted against the sunlight pouring in around him, creating a halo behind his straw hat. "It stinks."

"What do you care? You'll spend all your time in the corral or the barn, anyway."

His brother grinned. "It's not my fault Gott gave me no patience for busywork and all the tools to make horses follow me around like a pied piper."

"Each to their own. Might as well get to work." Tobias didn't rise to the bait. "Unpack that a.s.sociation saddle I finished before we left. We need to display it in case folks come in. Give them an idea of the work we can do."

"Who do you think will buy custom saddles around here?" Instead of heading for the boxes, David propped himself against a wall and dusted dirt from his boots with the back of his hand. "Not a lot of money in these parts from the looks of the place."

"There's plenty of ranches around here with working cowboys." Tobias had explained this to his brother more than once on the long ride to Texas. "They understand that a custom-made saddle will last them far longer than a factory job. It's worth the investment to know they can ride it hard and long every day for five years or more."

"I hope you're right. Otherwise we moved for nothing."

"Regardless, Jeremiah says there's a man in town who creates websites. We can take orders from all over the country if we have a website."

"You think Daed will go for that?"

"I already talked to him about it. He said as long as I don't bring the computer into the shop, he's happy."

"Times, they are a-changing." David snorted. "I forgot the cooler in the buggy. I'll be back."

Anything to get out of the boring work. Tobias turned his back on his brother and surveyed the boxes. The saddle he'd labored over for three weeks, giving it an elaborate design of leaves and a basket stamp, should be in one of the bigger boxes. Cobwebs decorated the beams of the ceiling over them. He breathed, coughed, and sneezed.

"G.o.d bless you."

He looked back at the high voice with a Texas tw.a.n.g. A woman in her early to midtwenties stood in the open door. She wore a red checkered western-style s.h.i.+rt, faded blue jeans, black cowboy boots, and a belt with a silver buckle as big as Tobias's fist. Her blonde hair hung in a braid down her back. Her face was fresh and clean, devoid of makeup. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't." He tugged open a box of cleaning supplies and rags on top of a spindly, old oak table in the middle of the room. They would need to clean up before they started setting up the equipment. They needed to build some counters too. And hang the horseshoes they used to hold all their leather string, twines, threads, and such. "We're not open yet. As you can see."

"But we could be, depending on what you need." David sauntered into the room, cooler in hand, and halted next to Tobias. His gaze lingered on the woman. "I'm David Byler. This is my brother Tobias. He's a saddle maker. I train horses."

Making as if to pick up another box, Tobias smacked his brother on the arm. "We're just unpacking. We're not open."

"Actually, I was looking for Adam Glick." The woman slid her hat from her head, giving Tobias a better look at her blue eyes. "He was supposed to meet me in the corral this morning."

"He's probably running a little late."

"I reckon."

"You're welcome to wait." David threw out the invitation before Tobias could suggest she put her horse in the corral while she waited.

"Thanks. I'm Bobbie McGregor."

"Bobbie?"

"Short for Roberta. My daddy calls me Roberta Sue, but he's the only one who gets away with it."

Turning his back on their visitor, Tobias picked up a handful of rags and a bottle of window cleaner. No matter what his daed wanted, Tobias couldn't lose the manners his mudder had instilled in him. Bobbie was a new acquaintance. "Are you interested in a saddle?"

She strode into the room and stopped by a cowhide stretched over a chair abandoned along one wall. Her hand smoothed the leather in quick, soft strokes. "I might be. Adam showed me a catalog from up north that had some of your work in it. The saddles were nice."

The catalog had been the tip of the iceberg that had gotten Tobias in trouble. They had worked with an Englisch horse farmer to expand their business when farming hadn't been enough to take care of the family. The Englischer had a daughter. Serena. Serena with blonde hair, white skin, and brilliant emerald-green eyes. Serena who favored pink lipstick, white lacy blouses, and long swirling skirts and never went anywhere without a thick book stuck in a big bag slung over her shoulder.

That was all in the past. "If you want to leave a note, we can let Adam know you stopped by."

"I have Cracker Jack in the trailer out there. I'll wait."

"Cracker Jack?"

"The horse I need trained."

"Right."

"So how do you like South Texas?"

"I like it fine."

"Man of few words. Like my dad." She slipped past him, leaving a cloud of scent like roses behind, moving toward the single open chair in the room. She planted a boot on it and propped her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand. "How come you don't train horses like your brother and your dad?"