The Saddle Maker's Son Part 6

"I prefer to work with leather."

"So you're the artistic one in the family. How much do you charge for your saddles?"

"Depends on what you want. Basic working saddle starts at four thousand."

"I already have a basic saddle. Three of them, in fact. A person could never have too many saddles." She pulled a folded piece of glossy paper from her back pocket and held it out. Her fingernails were clipped short, her hands the calloused hands of someone who did work on a regular basis. "It's a barrel-racing saddle with crystal trim. Do you do the fancy stuff?"

They did the fancy stuff because some Englischers who could afford custom-made saddles wanted it. The working cowboys didn't care about it. They were more interested in solid construction that meant the riggings would never slip and the horn would stay put when they were cutting cattle day in and day out. Tobias accepted her offering and studied the photo and description taken from a catalog.

David moved to look over his shoulder. He let out a long, low whistle. "Wow."

Oversized silver conchos, oiled leather carved in floral and basket-weave tooling with little crystals finis.h.i.+ng the inside of each flower. Intricate work. Beautiful. The cantle had rawhide and silver lace trim and the seat was a black padded suede with a fleece underside. "Nice."

"Nice? It's awesome. Can you do that kind of work?"

"If you've already found one, why do you want me to make it for you?"

"Custom made is better. It's a tad more ornate than I like. I'd want oak leaves and acorns."

He'd have to order the conchos, the crystals, and the suede. It would be expensive, but she seemed willing and able to pay. Their first customer in Texas. "We can do it, but it takes time and we have to set up the shop first."

"Any idea how much it will cost me?"

Aside from two sides of cowhide and the fleece of an entire sheep? "I won't know until I research the materials we'll have to special order. You'll have to give us a deposit up front."

"You don't have a price list?"

"Not yet." Daed strode through the door, a frown stretched across his face, a long, dead rattler swinging from one hand. "We're not open yet."

"So Tobias said. You must be the dad. You three look like triplets." Bobbie nodded in greeting. "Been doing a little hunting?"

"We may look alike, but I'm older and wiser." Levi slapped the snake on the table next to the boxes. "Adam just pulled up. He said he was waiting on a customer. I reckon that must be you."

"What'll you do with the rattlesnake skin?" Bobbie edged closer to the table. She didn't seem in any hurry to talk to Adam now that Levi had arrived. "That one would make a nice band for the black hat I wear when I barrel race."

"That we can do-once the shop is open." Levi waved a hand toward the stacks of boxes. "I imagine my sons told you we have a lot of unpacking to do first. When you come back to order your saddle, we'll talk about the hatband."

"The name's Bobbie with an i-e, not y, McGregor. Don't be selling it to someone else." Bobbie turned and tipped her hat to Tobias and David. "Nice meeting you. I'll be back."

"We should be open for business in a few days."

She stopped at the door and looked back. "Good. Consider the saddle your first sale here. Welcome to Texas."

Tobias didn't answer. He knew better. Storm clouds rolled across Levi's usually taciturn face. Better to let his daed deal with the customers. Tobias would simply do the work and keep his mouth shut. A practice that had held him in good stead. Until Serena. Bobbie disappeared into the bright sunlight of a South Texas spring day.

"I'm gonna go see how Adam does business with the Englisch folks around here." David dashed out the door before Tobias or Daed could respond.

Best to find a new subject quick. Tobias opened the closest box. Wool. Lots of wool. "What's with the snake?"

"Had a mess of babies outside the girls' outhouse at the school."

"You want me to clean it?"

"Jah." Levi sniffed. He wasn't done talking yet, that was certain, but as usual, he appeared to be mulling over his words as if they had to be translated from some ancient, difficult, dead language. "I thought you'd learned something."

Here we go. "She's a potential customer. We need those if we're going to make this store work. Besides, David is the one following after her like a puppy dog."

"He's looking for business. He knows how much we need it."

"I have no plans to repeat my mistakes." Or to let David do the same.

"That's gut."

"But you'll have to trust me on that. I have to talk to customers, whether they be men or women." He sprayed the dirty window and began to wipe with more vigor than necessary. "In case you haven't noticed, this place is out in the middle of nowhere. Customers will have to hear good things about us and be willing to drive a piece in order to give us work. We'll need that website I talked to you about."

"I'm well aware. I leave that sort of thing to you as long as you understand the rules."

"I do. Are you also aware that we have to be nice to folks in order to get their business?"

"I'm aware." Levi heaved another box onto the table and pulled back the panels to reveal Tobias's favorite tools of the trade. The skiving knife, lacing awl, bull-nose pliers, leather hole punches, rivet setter, copper and silver rivets, a cobbler's hammer, his beveling tool. They needed to set up the wooden holders he'd built special for keeping all these small pieces organized.

His hands itched to get to work. It had been too long. The work occupied his hands and left his mind to wander over peaks and valleys of thoughts that meandered on a road to nowhere or to understanding, he was never sure which it would be.

"Hey." Adam stuck his head in the door. "David says Bobbie talked to y'all about training her quarter horse. She might be a good one for you to start with. You could handle the training. The saddle is a separate deal, for her barrel racing. You'd be doing that anyway. Make it a package deal."

"I don't want to take food off your table." Levi's words trailed off. He laid the awl on an old towel with the other tools. Thankfulness warred with unwillingness on his face. When Levi took a dislike to a situation, he could be as stubborn as an old groossmammi. "We're thankful for your generosity. We could use the business."

"Nee, nee. Just being neighborly." Adam jerked his head. "Come on, you need to negotiate the terms of the deal, or whatever you Northerners call it. Day's not getting any younger."

Tobias turned his back and smiled to himself. Served Levi right for being so distrusting. A man had to take what was given as if it were a gift from G.o.d. Because it always was, no matter how unlikely it seemed and whether the gift wore faded blue jeans and a silver buckle.

Levi's tread to the door was slow. "Stop by the school at noon on your way home to eat."

Once the shop was open they would bring their noon meal. Not today. Leftover hamburger-cabbage ca.s.serole awaited them at the house. Martha was a good cook. She did a lot with a little and made it go a long way. "Why?"

"That dead snake was the mudder. Bunch of babies out there. Whole area around the outhouse is infested."

"Ach."

"Take a look around. I scattered the babies, but there may be more of the bigger ones. They like to den together in the winter. It's time for them to come out now that the cold has pa.s.sed."

As if the weather here could be described as cold. Lukewarm, maybe. Tobias nodded. He could check on Lupe and Diego while he was at it.

Rebekah would be there. As good a reason as any to stop.

Rebekah with her dark hair and blue eyes. So different from Serena's blonde hair, green eyes, and deliberate way of telling a story that drove him crazy. No one could draw out a story like Serena. She always had a point. She just liked taking her time getting there.

"Say hey to Rebekah and make sure she's not putting silly ideas in Lupe's and Diego's heads about staying here. Susan already has them teaching lessons and learning English."

If mind reading were possible, Levi would be first in line to provide the service. "Or you could do it when you pick up the kinner after school. You could give Susan a good talking-to for being such a teacher with a heart for lost children."

Levi stalked away without an answer.

Tobias chuckled. t.i.t for tat. His daed didn't like that, but sometimes a person got what he deserved.

NINE.

The snore gave Caleb away. Sometimes teaching was fun. Rebekah grinned at Susan and tiptoed down the aisle to the boys' side where her brother's head bobbed and his open mouth emitted a sound somewhat like a train rumbling on the tracks. A bit of drool teetered on his chin. Any minute and his lolling head would bob forward and collide with his scarred wooden desk. It was a wonder he didn't wake himself up with all that ruckus. It certainly made it hard to hear the little ones practice reading in English. It wasn't very polite either.

She leaned in close, snapped her fingers by his ear, and yelled, "Boo."

Caleb bolted upright, his gaze wild as he whirled around. "What? What?"

"You were sleeping in cla.s.s." Rebekah didn't bother to keep accusation from her tone. Sleeping set a bad example for the rest of the scholars. Even if it was funny. "You get to lead the cla.s.s in a song."

Caleb hung his head. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. History is so boring." His face brightened. "Is it time for arithmetic yet? I'm good at numbers."

"If you don't know history, you might end up doing the same thing over. That gets humans into trouble all the time." Susan shook a finger at him. It made her look like such a teacher. "It might not seem important now, but when you're older, you'll understand."

"How about science?" Caleb read all the books about plants and animals. He knew almost as much as Mordecai about the sky and stars and birds. "I do good with bugs and stuff."

"Well. You do well." Susan shook her head, frowning. "A person should be well rounded."

"Why do I have to know this stuff to plant onions and broccoli?" Caleb rolled his eyes, his disgust plain in his freckled face. "It's more important to know about weather and irrigation and how to make things grow in a drought. Families can't eat history."

"You can learn those things, but first you will learn how to do as you're told. Okay, students. It's time for a Spanish lesson. Spanish is practical. We can all use it when we go to the border." Susan clapped her hands together. "Lupe, come up front and be the teacher."

Rebekah inhaled the scent of sweaty feet, chalk, and the taco ca.s.serole Susan had heated for her noonday meal. She would never tell Susan, but she agreed with Caleb. She longed to be outside. She could see the suns.h.i.+ne through the windows that lined one side of the schoolroom. A breeze was blowing, making tree branches rustle against the gla.s.s. The sound called to her. Come out and play.

Which was why she should never be the teacher. So what did that leave her? She couldn't get a job in town. Mudder wouldn't allow it. She touched her hand to her ap.r.o.n as if she could touch Leila's note, still tucked in the hem. At noon she would see her sister and find out what was so urgent that Leila felt it necessary to see a sister she'd abandoned without so much as a good-bye. Maybe she wanted to say she was sorry. After all this time it seemed unlikely. What difference would that make now, anyway? Rebekah had to forgive Leila, one way or another.

The Bible said so. The bishop said so. Mordecai said so.

Only Rebekah couldn't wrap her heart around the words and say them so she meant them. Leila would know that.

Rebekah batted the thoughts away. They were an endless cycle she couldn't stop. Better to focus on Lupe, who had trudged on bare feet to the front of the room, her head down, her cheeks pink. Lupe and Diego needed help. Leila and Jesse might be able to provide that help. Maybe something good would come from their decision to leave the community. To leave Rebekah with a bunch of boys who figured she would go next. Never in her life had she thought of leaving the district. And she never did anything because her sisters did it. More likely, she would do the opposite. Anyone who knew her, knew that.

Stop thinking. Focus on Lupe here and now. The girl stopped in front of the black chalkboard, s.h.i.+fting from one foot to the other on the wooden floor. She didn't like being the center of attention, that was apparent.

Susan pointed to herself. "Teacher."

Lupe tucked her dark, straight hair behind her ear and ducked her head. "Maestra."

This was knowledge Rebekah could use. She might still get to go to Mexico one day. That she could look forward to doing. But Lupe looked as if she wished she were anywhere else in the world at that moment. Rebekah edged to the front of the room. "I'll help. You say the word and I'll repeat it."

Lupe squinted as if that would help her understand.

"Maestra."

"You have to speak up, honey. I can't hear you, and if I can't hear you, neither can they." Susan waved her hand at the other scholars. "It's okay, they won't bite."

"Ma-es-tra." Lupe stretched the word out in three long syllables. "Teacher."

"Everyone." Rebekah flung her hands in the air. "Ma-es-tra."

The sounds coming from the scholars varied from close to nowhere in the same county.

"Again."

And again until they more or less had it.

"What about this?" Liam held up his pencil. "What do you call this?"

"Jah, and what about me? What am I?" Nyla pointed to herself. "And my desk, what do you call that?"

Diego popped up from his spot next to Liam. "Lpiz."

"Pencil?" Liam waggled his pencil back and forth, his face scrunched up as he tried to work his tongue and lips around the Spanish word. "La-peas?"

Diego raised his hands and did a little dance. "Lpiz, lpiz, lpiz."

"Everyone!" Rebekah matched her dance step to his. "La-peas, la-peas, la-peas."

Caleb burst into a belly laugh that made Rebekah giggle. The scholars popped up from their desks and did the same jig, giggling so hard the words were unintelligible.

Breathless, she stopped dancing. "What? Is there something wrong with my steps?"

"Nee, but your p.r.o.nunciation is awful." Caleb guffawed and plopped back in his seat. "Even I can do better than that."

"Fine, how do you say it?"

"La-pees."

"That's what I said."

"Nee, it's not. You said la-peas."

"That's enough!" Susan wiped tears of laughter from her cheek with a white handkerchief. "Close enough, right, Lupe?"

A big grin stretched across her thin face, Lupe shrugged. "Me gusta reir."