Authors: Lori Copeland,Virginia Smith
He didn’t bother to filter the bitterness from his question. “Can the rest of the people in Apple Grove come in and pay the filing fee before someone runs them off their property too?”
Reynolds dipped his head. “Of course. Anyone who has filed the appropriate claim, waited the proscribed time period, met the improvement requirements, and paid the fifteen-dollar fee can
file for their patent.” The man fixed a sympathetic gaze on Jesse’s face. “Mr. Montgomery, believe me. I respect the Amish. I don’t appreciate a man like Littlefield coming in here and setting up his own kingdom as though he is a dictator. It was all I could do not to throw his
two thousand dollars
back in his face when he slapped it down on my desk last week. But he turned around and marched out of here before I could say anything.”
The intensity in Reynolds’ eyes grew sharp. Jesse heaved a breath and blew out some of his frustration with it. He ran a hand through his hair before setting his hat firmly on his head. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault.”
“No, it wasn’t. The man paid his
two thousand dollars
and didn’t want to listen to anything I might have to say.”
His emphasis on the amount for the second time drew Jesse’s attention. Reynolds’ lips were pressed tightly together, but his eyes held an unspoken message.
“He paid two thousand dollars?” Jesse repeated the amount to see the man’s reaction.
A slight nod, and the intensity in his gaze increased. “That’s right. Twenty one-hundred-dollar bills, right here on my desk.” He slapped the surface with a palm. “Ten claims at two hundred dollars each.” Again that intense look.
What was he trying to say? “Ten claims. Two hundred dollars.” Jesse did the calculation. Ten times two hundred was two thousand, all right. If he had that kind of money he’d…
Realization dawned, and Jesse’s jaw dropped as Reynolds’ unspoken message became clear. He took a step toward the desk.
“Don’t you mean two thousand for the ten claims, plus a hundred and fifty for ten filing fees?”
Reynolds leaned back in his chair, silent but with a wide smile on his face.
Excitement bubbled up in Jesse’s throat, and he released it with a laugh. He’d just been handed the way to beat Littlefield at his own game. “Mr. Reynolds, shouldn’t Littlefield be told that his claim isn’t finished yet?”
“Yes, he should. Funny thing about that, though.” He spread his hands wide to indicate the piles of paper on his desk. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t been able to spare a minute to send a message out that way.”
“So, if someone else who has met all the requirements for that land were to come in here and pay that fee, like my friend Jonas Switzer, you’re saying his claim would be officially filed first?”
“Mr. Switzer or his agent.” He looked meaningfully at Jesse. “An agent being anybody who is acting on his behalf.”
With a grin as wide as Texas, Jesse reached in his pocket and pulled out his twenty-dollar gold piece. He slapped it down on the desk. “Mr. Reynolds, I’m here on behalf of Mr. Jonas Switzer. I’d like to file for the patent on his land.”
Reynolds returned the grin with one of his own. “Let me grab the appropriate form and we’ll get that done, Mr. Montgomery.”
A
s Jonas finished plowing the last row in his new cornfield, he saw Amos picking his way through the tall grass toward him. The man’s light step and his smile lifted a weight off of Jonas’s heart.
“She is well, your Sarah?” he called as Amos neared.
“Not well, but better.” He came to a halt in front of Big Ed and absently reached up to rub the horse’s forelock.
“And the child? She is healthy?”
A light lit in his face. “
Ja
. So small, but strong like her mother.” He became serious. “Katie says they cannot yet go home but must stay here for a week, perhaps two. I know you have troubles of your own and would not overburden you at such a time, but…”
Jonas dismissed his concern with a wave. “It is no burden at any time to provide shelter for those in need.”
No doubt Amos would visit daily, but he must return home
to tend his farm. Jonas came around the side of the plow to stand near his friend. A decision of import had been pressing against his mind in recent weeks, and he needed godly input.
He halted beside Big Ed’s head and reached up to flick a chunk of dried mud from his mane. “I would ask your wisdom concerning an important matter.”
A knowing expression crept over Amos’s face. “Is it concerning the matter of Weaver’s farm?”
Jonas watched his friend closely as he spoke. “I have decided I will not move there.”
Amos did not express surprise but merely nodded. “You will follow Jesse’s plan and claim the land to the south of your house?”
“
Neh
. I have spent many hours in prayer and reached a decision.” He clasped his hands behind his back and gazed northward, where his former cornfield lay neatly plowed and ready for planting. If he had known it would become a field for cows, he would have left last year’s stubble in the ground. “I will leave Apple Grove.”
Amos’s eyes widened. “And move to Troyer?”
Here was where Jonas’s plans faltered. “I do not know where I will move.”
“Troyer is a long way from here,” Amos said carefully. “It would be hard to live so far from everyone you know and love.”
Therein lay the difficulty with which he had struggled. For twenty years he had made his home among the families of Apple Grove. Through hardship and trials, such as when his beloved Caroline died, or when his girls chose to become
Englisch
instead of Amish, or like two nights ago, when his barn burned, his Amish brothers and sisters had stood by him and come to his aid. He did
have family in Troyer, a sister and nieces and nephews, but because six long days of travel lay between them, he had not seen them in years. He and
Mader
could make a home there, but if they did they would more than likely not see Emma or Rebecca or their families again.
He glanced at Amos and then back to the distance. “A shame there is no Amish community nearer.” From the corner of his eye, he saw that his friend watched him closely. “I have wondered if perhaps the Lord might be pleased to start one.”
Amos’s chest inflated with a sharp intake of breath. “I have wondered the same.”
Surprised, Jonas turned to face him. “You?”
“My Alise was a godly woman and a good wife. Together we worked hard to build our home and our farm.” He turned so that he faced the house where his new wife and daughter lay. “It is difficult for a woman to step into the place of another. Perhaps it is time to leave the old life behind and build a new one.”
Though his words were true, Jonas sensed there was more behind Amos’s decision, so he waited.
After a long pause, Amos turned a sideways smile in his direction. “At least, that is the reason I will give the bishop.”
Such a sense of joy flooded Jonas’s heart that his laughter rang out over the neat furrows of rich soil. Not only did Amos’s agreement relieve him of the burden of acting alone, but his words confirmed the heaviness that the Lord had placed in his heart.
“It is hard work to build a new farm,” Amos said, his smile reflecting Jonas’s joy. “And even harder work to establish an Amish district.”
“
Ja
,” Jonas agreed. “When we founded Apple Grove, ten
families shared the burden. With only two, the burden will be even heavier.” He straightened and spoke from the confidence that was even then growing in his soul. “With the Lord’s help, we can do it.”
“I may be mistaken, but I think there will be more than two sharing this burden.”
Jonas looked sharply at him. Had Amos heard whisperings to which he had not been privy?
“No one
speaks
against our bishop, but there is much that can be learned from watching a man’s eyes.” Amos shrugged a shoulder. “I watch.”
Curiosity itched in Jonas’s mind, but he did not ask. Speaking about another man when he cannot speak for himself was gossip. “The Lord must appoint a new bishop and preachers. It will be good to have more than two to choose from.”
Perhaps, if a few other families joined them in the new district, Jonas would be spared the burden of the Lord’s calling.
A flicker of passion ignited in Amos’s close-set eyes. “I have long felt the desire to serve the Lord more deeply. Perhaps He will answer my prayers.”
Jonas looked at his friend through new eyes. Amos had considered becoming a bishop or a preacher? Most men dreaded the call to leadership and the lifetime burdens that came with it. But when the Lord chose, a man answered. That was the Amish way.
In a rare display of affection, Jonas clapped Amos on the shoulder. “I will pray that the lot falls to you, my friend.”
Spurred by excitement at the news he bore, Jesse urged Rex into a gallop as he approached Jonas’s place. The road fell away beneath him as a welcome wind blew into his face. He breathed deeply, savoring the wholesome scents of prairie grasses and rich soil so different from the stink of a cattle drive. His heart felt lighter than it had in years, relieved of a burden that had descended on him long ago when he was a boy and learned that his mother’s death had left him alone in the world. Today he’d faced the urge to drink and won. Not because of anybody who might be watching with a disapproving frown or a pitying look. No, he’d done it on his own.
Well, okay, Lord. You had something to do with it, didn’t You? Thank You
.
He took off his hat, urged Rex to a faster speed, and let the clean Kansas wind bathe him of the stench of whiskey once and for all.
When he rode into Jonas’s yard, he found Amos hitching up his buggy. If he was going home, that meant he wasn’t worried about Sarah anymore. He stopped Rex nearby and hopped to the ground. Butch came running up to take the reins.
“Do me a favor, would you?” Jesse reached beneath the horse and released the cinch on his new saddle. “Give him a good, long drink and then brush him down. And here.” He lifted the saddle off Rex’s back and thrust it toward the boy. “Put that over on the porch for me. It needs a good oiling.”
“You sure oiling will help?” Butch’s eyebrows drew together as he inspected the saddle. “I’d say it needs to be thrown away.”
Jesse heaved a laugh. “You’re probably right, but that was the best I could find for five bucks.”
Butch hurried off with the secondhand saddle—or third or fourth, more likely—and Jesse turned to where Jonas and Amos were almost finished hitching up the buggy.
“Jonas, I have good news! The best.” He didn’t hold back a wide grin. “Your troubles with Littlefield are over.”
Instead of the joy Jesse expected, Jonas merely smiled and gave a nod. “
Ja
, they are. The land is his.”
“No, it isn’t. He may think it is, but he’s dead wrong.”
He described his trip to the land office and what he’d discovered.
“So the land is yours fair and square. I paid your fee, and the title is filed with the United States government.” He cast an apologetic look at Amos. “I would have paid yours too, Amos, except I didn’t have enough money. You should get over there and do it right away.”