Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (23 page)

Although Mercy and Daniel had not seen Bernie and Lenny since they’d entered the hills, there was only one track, and they kept a steady pace. Daniel led the way on his buckskin, and Zelda followed him across rocky streams and through thick, sweet-smelling pines.

Stopping at noon beside a clear, gurgling creek, they ate jerky and raisins and drank water from the fast-moving stream. When they started up again, Daniel was on the seat beside Mercy, and his buckskin was tied behind the wagon. Mercy had never felt so good, so free, so happy. Being alone with Daniel in the deep woods was like a dream. A sudden worry caused her to frown.
Dreams seldom came true.
She looked at Daniel’s profile; concentration furrowed his brow.
I love you,
she told him silently. She didn’t want this to be a dream. She wanted to be with him forever, but not as a Sister. She wanted to be his lover, his friend, his mate.

“Why are you frowning?” Daniel’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Are you worried about meeting the rest of the Baxters?"

His serious eyes looked into hers. He was so very dear to her that she couldn’t lie to him. Yet she couldn’t tell him her thoughts.

“What if Mrs. . . . Baxter has already passed on?”

“Then we’ll go home.” He passed the reins to his left hand and reached for her with his right. “Come closer.”

She went willingly, her shoulder tucked behind his, her hip and thigh in contact with his.

“You’re not to worry.” He said the words simply. “We’ll see her, then we’ll go home.”

Mercy placed her hand on his thigh, and his hand dropped immediately to cover it. She turned her face away, but he saw a glimmer of tears.

“You trust me, don’t you, Mercy?” he asked in a voice so low and concerned that she looked at him quickly. “I said I’d take you home, and I will.”

“I know you will, Danny,” she said softly, turning her palm up to lace her fingers between his. Theirs was a companionship that needed no words. Being with Daniel was all the security she needed.

In the middle of the afternoon they came out of the low hills and into a wide valley. In the distance, a small settlement squatted on the flatland. As they drew nearer, the buildings took the shape of a gristmill, a blacksmith shop, a store, and perhaps half a dozen houses. A church spire loomed up between the store and the blacksmith shop, and as they came closer they could see a small stained-glass window in the church. Smoke curled up from the smithy’s forge and from the chimneys of several houses. The clang of the blacksmith’s hammer rang out with regularity. It was not an unpleasant sound.

Their arrival was announced by several dogs that came bounding out from beneath the store’s porch, yelping and scattering squawking chickens. The wiry birds ran a few yards, then flew a few yards, in their rush to get out of the way of the dogs and the approaching wagon. Zelda kicked halfheartedly at the curs that nipped at her heels. The buckskin snorted, and the dogs kept their distance from his sharp hooves.

“This must be Coon Hollow.” Daniel pulled Zelda to a stop in front of the blacksmith shop.

“Is this the nearest town to the Baxters?” Mercy asked.

“No. Lenny said the closest settlement didn’t have a blacksmith. So there must be one more.”

A man came from beneath the shed. He was bare to the waist, and his body glistened with sweat. His shoulders seemed to be a yard wide, and his arms were knotted with muscles. He held a hammer in a hand that looked as if it could knock a mule to its knees.

“How do. If ye be Phelps, Lenny Baxter said tell ya to keep goin’. He be waitin’ up ahead.”

“I’m obliged to you.”

Mercy wanted to ask him if there was any news about Mrs. Baxter, but the man turned and went back to his anvil, took up a shoe with his tongs, and shoved it into the fire. They drove out of the settlement with the same racket as when they entered: yelping dogs and squawking chickens.

The valley was longer than it appeared to be. It was late afternoon when they left it, crossed through a pass between two sets of hills, and entered another valley. The sun was sinking behind the hills to the west when they smelled wood smoke and saw the black curl that came from a chimney in the distance.

On this, the third and last night before reaching the Baxters, Mercy hoped they could stay at a place that would provide her enough privacy for a bath. She was disappointed to discover that the house they approached was not much larger than a good-sized wagon. However, there was a shed attached, and out back she could see the Baxters’ mules and a horse tethered.

Lenny stood in the doorway. As they neared, he came out and signaled for Daniel to bring the wagon to the side of the house. Daniel complied, pulling Zelda to a stop. He jumped down and lifted Mercy from a high seat.

“This ain’t much of a place,” Lenny said. “But it’s better’n in the open.”

“Who lives here?” Mercy reached into the wagon for her bag as Daniel began unhitching Zelda.

“Nobody. It was Old Man Mertser’s, but he passed on.” Lenny untied Daniel’s buckskin and led him away without another word.

Mercy stood beside the wagon holding her carpetbag and wondered how it could be that she could be a Sister to Lenny and Bernie Baxter. Their ways, their dress, their speech—all were so foreign to her. She had to admit to a family resemblance—the blond hair and blue eyes. But there was not the slightest bit of warmth in the brothers’ eyes when they looked at her.

She heard a scraping sound inside the cabin, as if someone had moved a chair over a rough floor. It came to Mercy that if no one lived here, who did the horse belong to? Daniel came back to the wagon, followed by Lenny.

“Lenny, who’s in there with Bernie?” she asked.

“Some of the kin. He’ll be ridin’ out.”

“Did he bring news of . . . your mother?” In her thoughts the woman was Mrs. Baxter, and she could not bring herself to say
my
mother. Somehow it would seem disloyal to Liberty Quill, who had been the only mother she could remember.

“Nope. He ain’t heard.”

Mercy stepped into the cabin. There was a front door and a back door but no windows. Both doors stood open, and a fire blazed in a cobbledstone hearth. Bernie stood back in a corner, his wiry blond hair looking as if it had never known the feel of a brush. He evaded her eyes when she looked at him. Of the two brothers, she decided, Lenny was the more reasonable.

A thin man with a head of white hair and a beard that came down to the middle of his chest pushed a chair back from a table and stood up when they entered. He wore a black coat that was much too large for his thin frame. It sagged on his shoulders, and the sleeves hung down over his hands.

“What the hell!”

Startled, Mercy turned quickly to Daniel. He had let her bag fall to the floor and tried to grab the pistol from his belt. The barrel of Lenny’s rifle was in the middle of his back, and he was forced to toss the pistol aside.

“Lenny!” Mercy’s heart dropped to her toes when she saw the snarl on brother’s face. “What are you doing? Are you out of your mind?”

“Ain’t nothin’ like that. Stand still,” he snapped at Daniel. “I’d jist as soon shoot ya ’n’ be done with it.” He emphasized each of his words with a vicious poke of the rifle barrel.

“Stop that!”

“Hush up, Hester! This here’s men’s business. I’ve had me enough o’ yore woman’s sass. Cousin Farley, here, is goin’ to wed ya up to this son of a bitch what ruint ya from ever gettin’ a decent man. We is seein’ that ya is done right by afore we take ya home to Maw.”

Mercy could scarcely believe what she heard. It took a minute before she could gather her wits to reply. When she did, angry words poured out of her mouth.

“You blundering, empty-headed, stupid idiot!” she yelled. “What the hell do you mean,
ruined
? Daniel is the most honorable man I know. He’s done nothing! Nothing!”

“Hester, I done tole ya, ya ain’t better let Maw hear ya talk like no fallen woman. She’d have me or Hod ta upend ya ’n’ whip your butt if she heared ya swear.”

“I’ll swear if I want to! What do you mean about Daniel? He’s looked after me all my life. Where in the hell were you when I needed you?”

“Right here on Mud Creek with my folks where I belonged,” Lenny said with a superior look on his face.

“We done seen what the feller done, Hester. Ain’t no use a-lyin’,” Bernie said.

“Shut up, you . . . horse’s ass. You’ve
seen
nothing!” Mercy threw the wild words over her shoulder at Bernie, then turned the full force of her anger on the other brother. “You’ve got a dirty mind, Lenny. You’d better not hurt Daniel! I’m telling you now, I’ll shoot you! I swear it! I’ll shoot you down like a mad dog if I have to wait ten years to do it!”

“He ain’t goin’ ta get no hurt if’n he behaves,” Lenny said impatiently.

“Cousin Farley can wed ya up proper. Give ya a paper ’n’ all.”

Bernie’s voice came to Mercy as if from a deep well as her stricken eyes sought Daniel’s. She felt her breath catch in her throat, felt her insides turn cold as she looked into his anxious eyes. They relayed a message for her to stay calm. Daniel was everything in the world that was dear to her, and she would not allow her brothers to force him to marry her against his will.

“I won’t do it! I’ll not be forced upon Daniel! I’m telling you that we have done nothing wrong. I’m as virginal as the day I was born,” she gasped through wobbly lips.

“Hush, Mercy. You don’t have to explain anything to them. Lenny isn’t going to shoot me because he’d have to shoot you, too, or you’d tell about it. They can’t force us to marry if we don’t wish to. You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do. Remember that and stay calm.”

“Mister . . .” The bearded man spoke for the first time. His voice was unusually loud for such a thin man. “The Lord brings down his wrath upon the sinner! If ya’ve fornicated ’n’ sinned, it’s best ya put it right. Our God is a just and forgivin’ God. When you meet your maker—”

“Fornicated!” Mercy said in a voice that screeched in spite of her attempt at control.

“More’n once,” Bernie said. “And we ain’t takin’ no whore home to Maw.”

Mercy took two steps toward Bernie and raised her hand as if to slap him. “Don’t you dare say those things about Daniel, and don’t you dare call me a whore!”

Daniel lurched forward when Bernie grabbed her arm. A loop suddenly flew over his head, settled about his neck, and he was jerked back. Lenny wound the end of the rope around a log that protruded out from high on the wall. Daniel clawed at the rope around his neck, and Mercy screamed and fought against the hands holding her. Bernie’s hand dug cruelly into her arm and kept her from going to him.

“We’re going to have us a weddin’ here ’n’ now, and there ain’t no two ways ’bout it.” Lenny picked up the rifle he’d let slip from his hand when he dropped the loop. Once again the barrel was pressed into Daniel’s back. He had to stand on his toes to keep the loop loose enough so he could breathe. Mercy’s eyes were huge, fastened on him in horror, and changed to blue, cold fury when she turned them on Lenny.

“I’m so ashamed,” she said slowly, and shook her head. “I’m so ashamed that the same blood that runs in your veins runs in mine.”

“Mercy . . .” Daniel spoke her name and her eyes went back to his. “I’ll not be forced. They can’t make us say the words that will wed us. Stand your ground, honey. They’re a couple of misguided, ignorant fools if they think they can make us wed against our wills.”

“Well, I guess thar ain’t nothin’ else to do but some persuadin’, is thar, Lenny? It ain’t pleasin’ me to do it, but if I got to, I will. Stubborn ’n’ bullheaded as they be, I feared it’d come to this.”

Bernie kept a tight hold on Mercy’s arm, and with the other hand he reached behind him for a long, slender stick that stood in the corner. He carefully lifted the stick out of a sack lying on the floor. Because of the intense look on his face, Mercy looked down and froze with fear. Tied to the end of the stick was a small, writhing snake, its body curled around the stick, its small mouth open, its forked tongue flicking in and out. The rattles on the end of its tail shook angrily.

Daniel tried to claw the noose from his neck. “My God!” he croaked. “Get that away from her!”

“Ya best be still or Bernie’ll lose his hold on that stick.” Lenny poked Daniel viciously with the gun barrel. “It’s just a little bitty old rattler. It ain’t got up a full head a pison yet. It won’t make Sister dead if’n it bites her down on the leg, but it’ll make her powerful sick.”

“Daniel!” Mercy’s eyes pleaded.

“Stand still! Do what they want.”

“Daniel!” she screeched again, and moved away as far as the hand on her arm would allow. Bernie moved the stick along the floor until the snake was within a foot of Mercy.

“God damn you!” Daniel shouted. “I’ll break every bone in your damn body for this. Can’t you see she’s scared half to death?”

“Shore we can see it. If she don’t behave, Bernie’ll just move his little purty overhere ’n’ let it get a taste a yore hide. Start the words, Cousin Farley,” Lenny said calmly.

“I’m sorry, Daniel. I’m sorry I’ve got you into this.” Mercy’s voice, weakened by her fear, came out in a hoarse whisper.

“I’m going to beat you half to death when this is over.” Daniel glared at Bernie. His voice was soft, but the measured words left no doubt as to his rock-hard determination.

Bernie grinned cockily, but his eyes darted nervously to Lenny. Daniel’s face had a harshness that made him uneasy.

“Ya goin’ ta fight family ’cause we bested ya?” Bernie’s grin faded. “Start the words, Cousin Farley. This here rattler’s gettin’ riled aplenty. He jist might come loose from that there stick.”

“If’n ya don’t answer right, mister, by night Sister’ll be sicker than a dog what’s eat the ass outa a skunk. Start the weddin’, Cousin Farley.”

“Huh?”

“Start the weddin’.”

“Huh?”

“Start the weddin’!” Lenny shouted.

“Why didn’t ya say so in the first place?”

The book the preacher held had a wooden cover. He opened it, being careful of the dried flowers pressed between the pages. He moistened his finger with his tongue and turned the pages. Finally he rocked back on his heels and looked first at Mercy, then at Daniel.