Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (41 page)

“Ye was bound ta not forget that, was ye? Weddin’s and birthin’s is all-fired important, huh, lass?” Gavin laughed at the face Eleanor made at him. She knew to what he was referring. They had not told anyone other than Tennessee that Eleanor was expecting a baby. The news was so wonderful, they were keeping it to themselves to savor for a while.

Eleanor carefully folded the paper, sealed it with wax, and passed it down the table to Mike.

“If I can get Quentin started with this, Farr will have it by late tonight.” Mike put the paper in his pocket and got to his feet. “I’ll look in on Daniel before I go.”

Daniel and Mercy were still sleeping. Tennessee, coming into the room, responded to a touch on her hand and followed Mike out onto the porch.

“What chances does he have?” Mike asked.

“Good, unless fever sets in or the flesh starts to rot.”

“You look tired.”

“I’ll sleep when Mercy wakes up.”

Mike took her hand. “Did you see the ring on Mercy’s finger?” Tennessee nodded wordlessly. “Someday there’ll be a ring on your finger like that.” He squeezed her hand and hurried away, as if he feared what she would say.

Tennessee stood on the porch in the early-morning light and watched him. What did he mean? A great wave of joy washed over her. Oh, she prayed, let it mean what she hoped it meant. She waited until he was out of sight before she went back into the house.

*   *   *

The day was one of the longest Mercy had ever known. Daniel roused at intervals to drink water or when the warm poultices of slippery elm were applied to his wounds. Bernie had brought a supply of reeds, and Mercy ran her knitting needle through them to hollow them out so that Daniel could drink without raising his head. Eleanor made a broth, and Mercy spooned it into his mouth. He drank cup after cup of the tea Tennessee brewed from her supply of dried, powdered ginseng root.

The townspeople began to appear on the doorstep as soon as the news spread that Daniel had been shot. Eleanor, gracious as usual, thanked them for their concern, accepted the offers of food, refused their offers to sit with the sick, and most of them were smiling when they left the Quill House.

Granny Halpen was not to be put off by one who accepted her honey cake but who refused her the full details of what had happened to the two who left town under darkness of the night.

“Mercy and Daniel took a belated honeymoon to Kentucky, that’s all,” Eleanor said sweetly. “They were married last Christmas, but Mercy wanted to keep it a secret because of those silly old school people who thought married women shouldn’t teach.”

“Humph!” Granny snorted. “Why didn’t she tell ’em she was proper wed?”

“Pride. Now, Granny, you’d have gotten your back up, too, if you’d been accused of fornicating with your own
husband.
Mercy just made up her mind that if the people here wanted their children to be ignorant, it was their decision. She and Daniel decided to use the time to go visit her
real
family. They are rich plantation owners down in Kentucky, you know. On the way home they were waylaid by robbers. Now isn’t that just a cryin’ shame?”

“Humph! It ain’t what I heard. It ain’t what I heard a-tall.”

“Well, now you know the truth of it, and we would just be ever so grateful if you’d set folks straight.” Eleanor smiled her friendliest smile. “Liberty and Farr will be pleased to know you’re concerned for Daniel. They’ll be coming home soon, and I shall tell them about this lovely honey cake you brought in our hour of need. ’Bye, Granny.”

Eleanor closed the door, leaned against it, and held her hand to her mouth to keep from giggling until after the old lady left the porch. The sight of Eleanor, doubled up with giggles, afforded Mercy her first smile of the day.

Jasper and Gus came from Daniel’s farm in the late afternoon. They stood at the back door, their hats in their hands, worried looks on their faces. Mercy went to talk to them to assure them that everything was being done for Daniel that could be done. A big, coal-black woman with a white cloth tied around her head, fat cheeks, and large, intelligent eyes, stood beside them. She listened intently to everything Mercy said. The big wicker basket she carried was loaded.

“My woman comed ta help Mistah Dan.”

“Hello, Minnie.”

“Yess’m.”

“Daniel has told me what a good cook you are. I’ll be coming out to the farm to live when he’s . . . better. We were married a few days ago.”

“Wedded! Lawsy! A wife is jist what dat boy need.” Her wide mouth spread into a smile.

“I’m glad you came, Minnie. We can use your help. Thank you for bringing her, Gus. When Daniel wakes up, shall I tell him that things are going well at the farm?”

“Yess’m. Plantin’ is done. We help Jeems get his plantin’ done, ’n’ we make a pen fer Gerrit, like Mistah Dan say.”

“I’ll tell him. Maybe in a few days you can come back and talk to him.”

“Yess’m.”

“Come in, Minnie.” Mercy went back into the house.

“Ya watch them younguns, Gus,” Minnie called. “Make ’em mind. I be home when Mistah Dan don’t need me no more.”

Minnie put her basket on the table and looked around at the neat kitchen. She liked what she saw and smiled again.

“I brung Mistah Dan vittles what he like—hominy grits, greens with fatback, and sweet-tater pie.”

“He’s not eating much right now. Jeems put the morning milking in the springhouse, Minnie. I expect it’s ready to churn. He’ll be bringing the evening milking before long. Before you start something, would you like to say hello to Daniel? He’ll be glad to know you came to help us.”

“I sure would, missy. Dat boy, he is as close ta my heart as my own younguns.”

Mercy sat down in the chair beside the bed and took Daniel’s hand. He turned his head carefully and looked at her.

“You’re awake again. Are you thirsty?”

“I’m about to float away, honey. I need . . . something . . .”

“I’ll get it in just a moment. Look who’s come to help us. Minnie is here and she wants to say hello.”

“Howdy, Mistah Dan. It do be a shame yo is laid low after ya done got yo-self a wife. Minnie been tellin’ ya to do dat. We gots ta get ya on ya feet, so’s ya can make us some babies. Ain’t dat right, little missy?”

“Everything all right at the farm, Minnie?”

“Farm’s fine. Younguns is all fine. Rosie lookin’ after ’em while I comed ta take care of ya.”

“My wife will appreciate your help.”

“Ya got ta pee, does ya, Mistah Dan? Don’t ya fret none. I brin’ ya somethin’ ’n’ ya can pee right where yo is at. I be right back.”

She flounced from the room, her big hips going up and down beneath the loose shift. Daniel’s eyes caught Mercy’s to see how she reacted to Minnie’s blunt speech.

“Are you worried that I’m shocked? Don’t be. I might have been a few weeks ago but not now. Gus and Jasper brought Minnie over. They said to tell you everything is all right out at the farm. The planting is done, they’ve helped Jeems, and they’ve built a pen for Gerrit.”

“I want them . . . to be careful. Tell them not to leave the farm. We . . . don’t know what Perry is up to.”

“I’ll tell them, and Jeems too.”

Minnie bustled in with a jar in her hand, her loose slippers flapping against the floor when she walked.

“Minnie’ll take care a Mistah Dan’s hind end till he get well,” she said firmly, and went to the other side of the bed and flipped up the cover. “After dat, he be wantin’ yo sweet little hands on ’em. Ain’t dat right, boy?” She laughed, her belly jiggled up and down, and her red mouth opened wide, showing white teeth.

Daniel looked at Mercy and grinned sheepishly. She leaned over and kissed him, then whispered, “I guess you’re not wanting my sweet little hands on you now. I’ll be back when you’re not so busy.”

*   *   *

Mercy called on all the reserve strength she possessed as the hours passed. Night came and dragged by slowly, with Mercy and Tennessee taking turns at Daniel’s bedside. The morning of a new day arrived, then noon, afternoon, and another long night. Mercy’s heart almost stopped each time Tennessee removed the bandages from Daniel’s wounds and stooped to smell the puckered flesh. Each time she stood and smiled reassuringly, Mercy’s heart thudded with relief.

Daniel gritted his teeth at the pain and endured the discomfort of having his knee boosted on a pile of pillows. His leg felt as if it were being pricked with a thousand needles each time he moved it. He ate what the women brought him to eat, and drank the vile potion Tennessee brewed without complaint.

By the morning of the third day, Gavin took Eleanor home, and the house settled into a routine. Minnie was capable of doing enormous amounts of work despite her large size. Daniel was comfortable with her and didn’t hesitate to ask for her when he had to perform his bodily functions.

Lenny and Bernie came into the bedroom and stood beside Daniel’s bed. Mercy was with them.

“Lenny and Bernie want to go home. They’ve come to tell you good-bye.”

“I was hoping you would stay until I’m on my feet. I want to thank you proper for what you did.”

“Ain’t no more’n what anybody’d done,” Lenny said, twisting his hat around in his hand. “Me ’n’ Bernie want ya ta know we ain’t a bit sorry fer gettin’ Cousin Farley ta wed ya up ta Sister. It was somthin’ what had ta be did. But we ain’t wantin’ no hard feelin’s over it.”

“There’s none on my part except for the part about the snake.”

“I’da not let it bite Sister. I pulled its fangs, anyhow,” Bernie said disgustedly.

“I wish you’d stay and meet Farrway Quill,” Mercy said. “He’s the one who found me. He’s been a father to me all these years. He’d want to meet you.”

“We got ta go on home. Hod ’n’ Wyatt’ll be needin’ us. We got whuskey ta tap ’n’ sell.”

Daniel held out his hand. “You’re welcome to our home anytime. I realize the risks you took coming back to help us, and I’m obliged.”

“Warn’t nothin’,” Lenny said.

“Them fellers could back-shoot but didn’t have no guts a-tall when they was gettin’ shot at.” Bernie snorted. “’Spect they got surprised.”

“I expect they did,” Daniel said, and grinned.

Out on the porch, Mercy put her arms around first one brother and then the other. She kissed them on the cheek, regardless of how much they squirmed. There were tears in her eyes.

“I’m glad you came to get me. I’m glad you were so persistent, too, or I might not have gone with you. I’d have missed out on seeing my mother and knowing my family. You know where I am now if you ever want to come visit. Like Daniel said, you’re always welcome.”

“Ya’ll come if’n ya want to,” Bernie said, making a hasty retreat off the porch and jumping up onto his mule.

“’Bye, Hester.” Lenny put an arm about her shoulders and gave her a slight squeeze. “We got ya a good man, even if ya didn’t want ta wed up with him. Ya treat him right, hear?”

“Lenny Baxter! Where did you get the idea
you
got him for me? I
did
want to marry Daniel.” Mercy was talking to Lenny’s back. “And another thing, nothing happened before we were married. You can believe it or not, I don’t care!” Her brother got on his mule and sat looking at her from under the brim of his peaked hat. “Nothing happened! Do you hear? Damn you, Lenny, answer me.”

“Yore man ort ta take a strop ta yore bottom fer swearin’, Hester. If’n ya was down on Mud Creek, Hod’d take a switch to yore legs ’n’ wash yore mouth out with soap.”

“But I’m not down on Mud Creek, Lenny Baxter!” The brothers turned the mules and headed down the drive. “If Hod whipped me, I’d shoot him, or stab him, or something!” Mercy shouted. “And another thing—it’s none of your business if I swear. I’ll swear
every damm day
if I want to.”

The brothers looked at each other. Bernie rolled his eyes toward the sky and flung up his hand in disgust.

“If she ain’t a pisser! Shiftfire! Ole Dan’l better put his foot down on her or she’ll get outa hand.”

“Might be he’ll do it when he gets over bein’ moonstruck.”

“Hester’s the feistiest, mouthiest Baxter woman I ever heared of.”

“I reckon it ain’t her fault. She jist growed up a-spoutin’ off at the mouth when she took a notion.”

“What she’s needin’ is a slap on her butt. Times is she don’t ’pear ta have no gumption a-tall.”

“Well, it ain’t our to-do no more. We got ’er a man. It’s on his head now if’n she acts up ’n’ shames him. Let’s get on home. Looks like them clouds comin’ up is bringin’ up a real turd-floater.”

*   *   *

The sun had gone down, and the birds were settling in the trees for the night when the light coach came up the drive, circled the house, and stopped at the back. Mercy went racing out of the house. “Papa! Mamma!”

Farr Quill, tall and agile, with a physique of a much younger man, jumped down from the carriage. Mercy launched herself at him. He caught her and hugged her.

“Oh, Papa! I’m so glad you’re home.”

“I’m glad to be here, honey.”

“Mamma!” Mercy cried when Farrway helped the slender, blond woman down from the seat. “It seems like it’s been years, and it’s only been weeks.” Mercy went into Liberty’s arms, and the two women hugged each other.

“How’s Daniel?” Liberty’s tired face was anxious.

“He’s recovering.”

“No fever? No . . . poisoning?”

“Not yet. Tennessee says he’s doing all right. I’ve got a million things to tell you, Mamma.”

“Eleanor wrote the most important. You and Daniel are married! Oh, honey, that’s wonderful news. You were always close when you were children. I felt Daniel was just waiting for you to grow up.”

“You never said anything.”

“And ruin the whole thing? My land, Mercy! I’m smarter than that.”

“Where’s Mary Elizabeth and Zack?”

“Zack left two weeks ago to go to New Orleans with Will Bradford on a diplomatic mission. Farr thought it would be good experience for Zack. Mary Elizabeth is all wrapped up in her music. She’s going to sing in the operetta the school is putting on. She’ll stay with friends while we’re gone. We came just as soon as we could make arrangements. Oh, I’ve been so worried about Daniel and poor George. Is there any word on him?”