The Amish Christmas Cowboy. Jo Ann Brown

      Sarah didn’t answer as she pushed her uneasy thoughts aside and concentrated on her job. She loved these kinder, but she had no illusions about what rascals they were. Her predecessors hadn’t stayed long, according to Mrs. Hancock, because they couldn’t handle the rambunctious youngsters. With a laugh, Sarah had replied she’d been quite the outrageous youngster herself, which, she acknowledged, was one reason her brothers looked askance at every idea she had. Though she was twenty-seven, they treated her as if she were as young as Mia. She wished they’d give her the benefit of the doubt once in a while and realize she was a woman who yearned to help others.

      Just as she needed to offer the Summerhays kinder a chance to show they could be gut. Giving the youngsters a stern look, she said, “I’ll agree to take you outside to watch if you promise to stay with me every second, hold my hand and not get in the way. If Mr. Christner says you have to leave, you must.”

      Though the Amish didn’t use titles, even when speaking of bishops and ministers, she wanted to impress on the kinder how vital it was to heed Toby’s instructions while he put the horses in the paddock. Racehorses were high-strung, and she guessed he and Ned needed to keep their attention on the task.

      “Can we come, too?” asked Alexander, who was going to be as tall as his daed and maybe broader across the shoulders. He was nine, but the top of his head was two inches higher than Sarah’s.

      She’d never figured out how these kinder learned what was going on when she hadn’t seen them nearby. She suspected they put the decorative columns and other architectural elements in the house to gut use.

      “Ja,” she said, looking each youngster in the eyes. “You may come, but Ethan and Mia must hold my hands. Natalie, hold Mia’s other one. Alexander, hold Ethan’s. If anyone lets go, I’ll bring you inside right away, and there’ll be no going out until the horses are unloaded. Do you agree?”

      The kinder shot wary glances at each other. When she repeated her question, they nodded.

      Sarah took the younger two by the hands and watched to be certain Natalie and Alexander did as she’d requested. Leading them onto the porch, she paused as Toby opened the trailer. She breathed a sigh of relief to see Ned sitting in the truck, going through a stack of paperwork. Tossing it aside, he stepped out of the truck and flashed her a wide smile.

      She looked away and right at Toby, who stood with one foot on the bumper. Under his straw hat, a faint frown appeared again as his brows drew together. His eyes were concealed by the shadow from the hat’s brim.

      Realizing she should have spoken to him before she agreed to bring the kinder outside, she asked, “Is it a problem if we watch you unload the horses?”

      “Not if you stay out of the way,” he answered.

      “I’ll make sure.”

      His only reply was an arch of one eloquent eyebrow. She’d heard cowboys could be men of few words, but this one took being terse to ridiculous lengths.

      Herding the kinder to the far side of the pair of linked paddocks in front of the main stable behind the house, she knew they’d have an excellent view of the proceedings. She’d vetoed Ethan’s request to stand on a bench because it was too close to the gate. She wanted the youngsters as far as possible from the animals when they emerged from the trailer and had room to show their displeasure at being transported in close quarters. Sarah was grateful the Texans would be on their way soon. She hadn’t expected to have a gut-looking Amish cowpoke come into her life.

      A faint memory stirred, and she remembered a letter she’d read in The Budget, the newspaper printed for and written by scribes in plain communities, about new western settlements that had developed ways that differed from other communities. One in eastern Oklahoma had started using tractors in their fields, because a team of mules couldn’t break the soil. The tractors had steel wheels with no tires and couldn’t be used for anything but fieldwork, but it was a compromise the settlement had to agree upon if they wanted to remain on those farms.

      Toby’s settlement in Texas must have made similar concessions to the climate and the land. That could explain why he was allowed to drive the big truck, something that wouldn’t have been allowed in most settlements.

      The kinder began to cheer when Ned brought the first horse and Toby went into the paddock. She hushed them as the big black shied when it came off the ramp. She wasn’t sure if her warning or Toby’s scowl silenced them. Either way, none of the youngsters made a peep as Ned guided the horse into the first paddock, shoved the reins in Toby’s hand and, leaving, closed the gate.

      Toby began to give the sleek horse a quick examination. “I need to make sure, while the horse was in the trailer, he didn’t injure himself without us noticing,” he said, answering the question she’d been thinking but hadn’t wanted to ask out loud.

      She watched how Toby ran his hands along the horse, keeping it from shying away or rearing in fright. He kept his motions to a minimum, and if the horse began to tense, he soothed it with soft words.

      Satisfied the horse was fine, Toby led him into the inner paddock and took off the lead rope. The horse galloped, happy to be out of the trailer and able to stretch out his legs.

      “Pretty horse,” Natalie said in a wistful tone. The girl was as obsessed with horses as her daed.

      The second horse, also dark in color, took his arrival in stride. He pranced into the paddock, dragging Ned with him, and stood like a statue during the examination. When Toby turned him out in the other paddock, he walked in as if coming home.

      “That was easy,” Alexander said with a grin. “Too bad they aren’t all like that.”

      Toby nodded but didn’t smile in return. Maybe his lips grew a little less taut.

      When Alexander looked at her with an expression that asked What did I do wrong? she smiled and said, “Mr. Christner needs to concentrate. I’m sure he’ll be more ready to talk once he’s done.”

      She wasn’t sure of that or why she was making excuses, other than she didn’t want Alexander to be hurt. The boy nodded, and she turned as the kinder did to watch the final horse being taken from the trailer.

      Even she, who didn’t know much about horses beyond the quiet buggy horse she drove, could tell the bay prancing around Ned was magnificent. Muscles rippled beneath the sheen of his coat, and his black mane and tail floated on the air with each movement.

      As soon as the horse was brought into the first paddock, Toby began the same swift examination he’d done with the others. He was squatting, checking the horse’s legs, when a gray barn cat flashed through the paddock. The horse started, whinnied, then reared in a panic.

      Sarah tightened her grip on the younger kinder’s hands and called to Natalie and Alexander to back away from the fence. The horrified youngsters froze as the bay’s hooves pawed the air as if fighting off a giant invisible rival.

      Mia screamed, “Look out, kitty!”

      The little girl tore her hand out of Sarah’s and lunged toward the fence. Sarah grabbed Mia by the shoulders, tugging her back as the horse bucked toward them.

      “Hold my hand and don’t let go,” Sarah ordered in not much more than a whisper. She didn’t want her voice to upset the horse more, though she doubted it could be heard in the paddock over the thuds from the horse’s hooves on the ground. “Nobody move. Nobody say a word.”

      She stared at the paddock, horrified. Toby tried to calm the horse. He kept the horse from bucking by guiding it away from the fence. The horse jerked forward. He stumbled after it, refusing to let go of the lead. He grimaced and stutter-stepped. Dropping to one knee, he pushed himself up again. Fast.

      Not fast enough. The horse was spinning to strike out at him again. It yanked the lead away from him.

      Releasing the kinder’s hands, Sarah pushed aside