LITMIR.BIZ

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to silence them. “Look, everyone, my name is Jude Kingman, of Kingman Enterprises in Chicago. And yes, I am here to talk to some of you about your farms, but don’t go getting all excited and defensive. I’ll be here throughout the summer, and I am not here to tell you that you can’t plant and harvest your crops this year. Just go ahead and work your farms as you would any other time. I assure you I am only here to look things over and study the problems that might arise over a land issue with the railroad—and that I fully intend to find a way to absolve those problems without huge losses to anyone.”

      “Fancy talk! That’s all you’re about!” another man shouted. “Go on back to Chicago!”

      The blond-haired woman appeared completely exasperated with all of them. Glancing angrily at the big Swede, she turned to the young boy and grabbed his arm, walking off with him. Jude was actually disappointed he’d not got her name.

      “I’m not leaving anytime soon,” Jude told the crowd. “I will probably make my railroad parlor car into an office while I’m here, and gradually I will be coming out to visit some of you on your farms—just to talk. Any of you are welcome to come and see me whenever I’m in town. I fully intend to hear your side of this matter and do my best to keep the peace.” He glanced around at all of them, an intimidating crowd indeed, made up of big, tough farmers and stern women who could probably hold their own against any of the men.

      “You’ll talk to us, all right,” another man shouted, “then ignore everything we tell you and stab us in the back! Anybody can see you’re a rich man come here to do a rich man’s business, which is to walk all over the poor, so don’t be telling us lies about why you’re here.”

      “I am not a liar, sir,” Jude answered. “I assure you, I have only the best of intentions, and I will be far more open to your needs than some of the other men who might have been sent here for the job. Don’t waste an opportunity to possibly save your farms.”

      “There! You see?” the big Swede shouted. “He is already talking about saving our farms. You know what that means!”

      “Yeah!”

      “Yeah!”

      “Is this how you always greet strangers in Plum Creek?” Jude shouted above them. He refused to show any sign of intimidation. “Perhaps I’d be better off talking with your sheriff and perhaps your town preacher. They might know a little more about how you should be conducting yourselves. I’ve not said one word about coming here to do you harm, nor have I been so rude and unwelcoming as all of you have been toward me. One would think I’d come here packing six-guns and a whip! I believe a good many of you walked over here from Sunday church services. Is this what God teaches about welcoming strangers?”

      A few of them took on rather sheepish looks.

      “I will hold town meetings as soon as I can get things organized,” Jude added then, keeping his voice raised. “I will be every bit a gentleman and I expect the same from good, Christian people like yourselves.”

      He waited, hoping his talent for exuding charm and saying the right words when necessary would calm them. A few of the women stared, and he smiled and nodded toward them. Some blushed and covered their mouths as they quietly laughed, others just scowled and turned away. Some of the men seemed to change their initial feelings of anger and defense. They mumbled among themselves, and a couple of them actually apologized, saying they would be willing to listen but were not about to hand over their land to anyone. Jude assured them that no one was asking them to do so.

      The big Swede never changed his attitude. He glowered at Jude a moment longer, then turned to the two older men who’d accompanied him. “Come on. Ve got supplies to get,” he said, stalking off with them.

      Jude decided he’d better stay inside his private car for a while. He might be better off this first day waiting until most of the farmers had left with their supplies before exiting the Pullman to explore Plum Creek. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a headache coming on.

      Thank you, Dad, for giving me this glorious job, he thought wryly.

      He turned to go back inside, but then he caught sight of the young boy he’d seen earlier with the pretty blond woman. The kid had apparently run back to see what was going on. He waved at Jude, and Jude nodded to him. The blond woman came around the corner of the depot then, spotting the boy and hurrying over to scold him for coming back after she’d told him not to. She glanced at Jude, and all Jude could think was…Oh, my!

      He tipped his hat to the woman and gave her a smile.

      “I am sorry for the way you were treated,” she told him in good English, although there was a slight Swedish lilt to the words.

      He bowed slightly. “Apology accepted, ma’am.”

      She hurried away with the young boy, and again Jude chastised himself for not getting her name or doing his best to find out how she was related to the three men with her earlier.

      He went inside his Pullman, shaking his head at his own ridiculous reaction to the blond woman. If she was a friend of, or related to the big Swede who’d been so rude to him, there was a good chance he’d see her again once he started visiting the farmers. He decided to go over the list Wilson had given him and see if he could figure out who she might be.

      He threw his hat to the other end of the car and yelled for the butler he’d brought along to bring him a cool drink. He sat down in a plush velvet chair and kicked off his shoes, leaning his head back and groaning over the hideous job his father had given him. He could already see that this was going to be one long, hot summer.

      Chapter Six

      Ingrid stopped midrow and set down her gunny sack of corn kernels. She put a hand to the small of her back, stretching backward, then rolled her head forward and to the side, stretching her neck. Every fiber of her being screamed for rest, but planting time did not allow it. The only thing that mattered was temperature and weather, and the ideal time to plant.

      Such was the life of a Nebraska farmer, along with a lot of praying that this year the grasshoppers would feast someplace else. But there was a positive side to both planting and harvesting. For both events, area farmers got together and helped one another, and for the past three days Carl and Stanley Unger had been on her farm with plows and horses. After making furrows, Ingrid, Johnny and Ingrid’s father followed, dropping kernels into the long trenches. Now, Carl and Stanley followed the planters with hoes, covering the kernels. The only thing left was to pray for just the right amount of rain and sunshine so that the harvest would be plentiful, with enough corn to store for their own use and plenty more to sell to buyers in Plum Creek.

      She breathed deeply of the fresh, cool air. Since the downpours earlier in the month had ended, the weather had remained accommodating. She watched Carl and Stanley, again thinking what a fool she probably was for not committing herself to the strong and faithful Carl. He was not extremely handsome, but certainly decent looking, plain but stalwart.

      “When will we be done?” Johnny asked with a pout, his face sunburned.

      “You just asked me that five minutes ago,” Ingrid answered, shaking her head. “Just keep planting. The time will go faster than you think.”

      Johnny frowned with impatience and rather reluctantly continued dropping corn into the furrows. Ingrid dipped her hand into her gunny sack, then noticed a carriage approaching along the narrow dirt road that led from Plum Creek to the farm. From what she could tell, the rig appeared to be fancier than any local visitor would use.

      “Who on earth would bother us during planting time?” she muttered, irritated. Stopping now would upset the rhythm of plowing, sowing and covering the rows. She shouted to her father that someone was coming.

      “This is no time for visiting!” her father yelled in reply, obviously annoyed. “Go see vat they vant, Ingrid. Then you might as vell quit and start supper.”

      Ingrid shaded her eyes to see the buggy fast approaching, and she felt suddenly

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