Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (42 page)

“No, not a word.” Mercy looked over her shoulder to see if Farr was coming.

Farr was shaking hands with Jeems, spoke with him for a moment, then turned the tired horses over to him. He followed Mercy and Liberty. The two were walking toward the house with their arms about each other.

Tennessee moved out of the chair beside Daniel’s bed.

“Is he awake?” Mercy asked.

“Awake and anxious. He heard the carriage drive in, and his eyes have been on the door.”

Liberty had stopped in the outer room to take off her hat and a light cape. She came into the room now, with eyes only for the man on the bed. Memories of a small, serious-faced boy clinging to her, saying, ‘Can I call you Mamma?’ came rushing at her out of the past, and her eyes filled with tears. She bent over him and kissed his forehead and cheeks.

“I’ve been so worried, Danny.”

“I’ll be fine in a few days, Mamma. Hey, don’t cry. I can’t stand to see my womenfolk cry.”

“I can’t help it if I cry! I always do when one of my children is sick or hurt.”

Farr leaned over her shoulder. “Hello, Son. Your mother’s been in a state ever since we got the word about you being hurt. I thought she was going to shoot the messenger bringing the bad news, like they used to do back in the Dark Ages. We wore out three sets of horses getting here.”

“I hope you didn’t have to leave some important business to come home.”

“There’s nothing in Vandalia as important as you, Daniel. What’s this I hear about you and Mercy? It couldn’t have been over a year or two ago that you told me she was a featherhead and dumb as a cow.”

“Stop teasing, Farr. That was all of ten years ago. You’re just getting so old, you don’t remember.” She placed another kiss on Daniel’s forehead. “I wondered when you two were going to wake up and realize you were made for each other. I could never see you letting another man have her. I only wish I could have been at the wedding.”

Daniel’s eyes looked past Liberty to Mercy, and they smiled knowingly at each other. Someday they would tell her about their wedding. Someday but not now.

Come here, honey, Daniel mouthed silently. Mercy went to the side of the bed and knelt down. He held out his hand, and she put hers in it.

“As I look back, I think I always knew that someday Mercy would be mine.” Daniel looked at Mercy while he spoke to Farr and Liberty. “I remember thinking, while I was growing up, that I wanted my home to be like yours, where there was love and respect. Mercy and I couldn’t have had a more loving home than the one you gave us. We had a happy childhood, didn’t we, sweetheart? We want our children to be able to say that someday.”

“Daniel said it far better than I could,” Mercy said, looking up at the two people she loved most in the world, except for the man who lay on the bed.

“Oh, flitter!” Liberty said, sniffing. “I’m going to cry again.”

“That’s all right, love. You can cry all you want,” Farr said, and gently lifted his wife to her feet. “But please do it in the kitchen, sweetheart. I want to talk to Daniel.”

“Well, don’t wear him out. Eleanor said he has three bullet holes in him. Lordy! It purely scares me to death to think about it.” Liberty turned and saw the Indian girl standing quietly against the wall. “Tennessee! I didn’t see you. How are you?” Liberty went to hug the shy girl. “Farr said on the way that I shouldn’t worry, that you’d know what to do for Daniel. How are Eleanor and Gavin? Did you know that Amy and Rain are planning to come home at Christmastime? Won’t it be wonderful to see them?”

“Libby, love,” Farr said patiently, “could you possibly carry on that conversation in the kitchen? You women will talk half the night. Maybe you can get an early start . . . in the kitchen.”

With his hands on their backs Farr pushed them gently out the door. They didn’t seem to have heard him or felt his hands. They were talking nonstop. He sat down in the chair beside Daniel’s bed.

“Are you too tired to talk?”

“Talking doesn’t hurt. It’s moving that hurts like hell.”

“If you can, Son, tell me what’s been going on. If you get tired, we’ll stop.”

“There’s a lot to tell. Give me some of that water there on the table and I’ll start at the beginning.” Daniel drew the water into his mouth through the reed, and Farr placed the glass back on the table. “It started the day Mamma left to go to Vandalia.”

Daniel talked off and on for more than half an hour. He rested occasionally and drank water from the glass that Farr held for him. Farr listened intently, his keen mind sorting the details and placing them in order.

“Mercy’s brothers left this morning. I wish you could have met them. They were pure hickory. Proud and poor is the only way to describe them. Their word is their bond, and what they think is right, is right. Mercy and I had a hard time understanding them at first. Later we came to like them.”

“Hester was her name.” Farr sat with his forearms resting on his thighs, his hands clasped, and his eyes on some far-off place outside the window. “Amy named her Mercy the night I walked into Liberty’s camp down by the Ohio. I had no idea that she wasn’t the child of the people who lived there and were killed.”

“You did the only thing you could do.”

“Yes, I realize that, but still . . .” Farr shook his head as if to dismiss the problem from his mind. “Now, about this thing with Perry. Do you think he had anything to do with the men attacking you and Mercy?”

“According to what Lenny Baxter said, the men were bent on killing me.”

“I need to talk to Gavin and to Mike to find out what they know.” Farr got up and paced the room. “I’d not put anything past Hammond Perry. The man has let hate consume him. Hate and revenge is what he lives for.”

“I didn’t know about George and Turley until this morning. Mike told me. The man I told you about, Edward Ashton, warned me that Hammond Perry was talking of taking George. I had already warned George to be careful. But from what Mike says, they came in under the mill wheel in the middle of the night. Poor Turley just happened to be there.” Farr could tell Daniel was tired by his voice.

“You’ve talked enough, Son. Rest now. We’ll talk more tonight when Gavin and Mike get here.” Farr stopped his pacing and looked down at Daniel. He couldn’t love him more if he were his own flesh and blood. Farr realized now how old Juicy Deverell felt about him when he was a young man. “I want you to know that I couldn’t have picked a better man for my daughter to marry. I pray I find one half as good for Mary Elizabeth.”

“Thanks, Papa.”

Daniel held up his hand, and Farr gripped it hard. Daniel hadn’t called him Papa since he had grown to manhood, and it struck a sentimental chord. Farr cleared his throat before he could speak.

“One thing sure, we’re not going to let Perry get away with this. I may have to resign my post and work full-time on bringing him to justice.”

“I wish it could wait until I’m on my feet so I could go with you.”

“I’m afraid for George, Daniel.”

“Perry will kill you if he gets half a chance.”

“I know that. If I had time, I’d get the militia. But the legal process takes time. By the time they act, it could be too late for George.”

“Take Gavin and Mike with you. To hell with the store and the mill. Close them up. God, I wish I was on my feet.”

“I know how you feel, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait this one out.”

*   *   *

When Mike came to the house that evening, he had a man with him. Farr took them into Daniel’s room and closed the door. Daniel didn’t recognize the man until he approached the bed and the lamplight fell on his face. It was Edward Ashton, Levi Coffin’s friend.

“Sorry to hear about you gettin’ shot, Phelps. It might ease your pain a little to know that those bullet holes cost Hammond Perry five hundred dollars. He paid for them, thinkin’ you were dead.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Sickles, the innkeeper. He saw the wagon go by and took it you were dead. He sent word to Perry. Later the ferryman at New Harmony said you were alive. I guess Perry is madder than a stepped-on snake.”

“So he was behind it. Who did he pay? The men who shot me are dead.”

“He paid James Howell to have you killed. Howell is a middleman. He doesn’t do the killing himself—he arranges for someone else to do it.”

“Did you find out why?”

“To cross him one time is reason enough for that son of a bitch to have a man killed,” Edward said with a look of contempt on his face. “It’s a well-known fact that he hates everything connected to Quill’s Station.”

“Five hundred is a lot of money.”

“You pushed him pretty hard in front of his men that day at the mill. And you sent him on that wild-goose chase after Levi. The fact that you’re part of Farrway Quill’s family would be reason enough.”

Farr had been listening quietly. “Do you know where Perry is now?”

Edward Ashton turned to Farrway Quill. He had heard about the man for years. Somehow he had thought he would be older. Quill was a man with an ageless face and only a touch of gray at his temples.

“The last I heard, he was down south at John Crenshaw’s place. The reason I came up here was to tell Daniel, if he was still alive, that the young colored boy, George, is at Crenshaw’s. He was taken there and put in a cell on the third floor of the house.”

“Do you know about that place?” Farr asked.

“I know
all
about that place, Mr. Quill. Crenshaw’s mansion is called Hickory Hill. He’s a strong Methodist and donates to the church. The man’s a bastard and hides behind his religious image. He’s wealthy and has great political influence in the southwestern part of the state.”

“I’m new in politics, but I’ve heard of him,” Farr said dryly.

“He’s a one-legged man,” Edward continued. “It’s said that while he was whipping some female slaves he was attacked by several males, and they hacked off his leg. He’s embittered and cruel. When you go there, the Negroes will smile and wave. You’d think they were all working for wages. That’s a pile of horseshit, if you don’t mind my saying so. The people are so scared, they’ll tell you anything.”

“You know for sure that George is there?”

“He’s there. He’s a nice-looking, light-colored boy with his hair braided Indian-fashion. He’s there—unless he’s been moved within the past two days.”

“Will you go with us to Crenshaw’s?”

“I’ll go. But if we can manage it, I’d rather not show myself unless it’s necessary. I gather a lot of helpful information about the Negro-napping operation for Levi Coffin. If Crenshaw, Perry, or any of the patrollers across the river in Kentucky ever found out that it’s me who ruins some of their plans, my life wouldn’t be worth the spit it’d take to lick my lips.”

“If you lead us there, we’ll make every effort to see that you’re not recognized. It will help, for you can give us the layout of the place.”

“I can do that, Mr. Quill.”

“The sooner we leave, the better. Mike?”

“I’m going! Gavin is going too.”

“Daniel, if Mike and Gavin go, it will mean leaving the women here by themselves. Eleanor and Tennessee should come over here to stay while we’re gone.”

“If there’s trouble here, Tenny is good with a gun,” Mike said with a note of pride in his voice.

“Libby wouldn’t hesitate to use a gun if she needed to,” Farr added. “With Daniel to tell them what to do, they’d make out all right. Not that I expect any trouble to come here, but it’s best to be prepared.”

“If we leave here in the morning, how long will it take for us to get to Crenshaw’s?”

“Late tomorrow night. We have stations along the way where we can exchange horses.”

“I had heard the Underground Railroad was expanding. We would be pleased if you spent the night with us, Mr. Ashton. A meal will be on the table soon.”

“If we’re going to leave early,” Mike said, putting on his hat, “I’d better ride over and tell Gavin. He can bring Eleanor early in the morning. What time, Farr?”

“There’s plenty of room if they would rather come tonight. We can leave an hour before dawn.”

Daniel lay on his bed after Farr and the others had left the room and cursed Hammond Perry. For the first time in his life he felt useless, and for the first time in his life he felt the need to kill a man.

A
small sound awakened Mercy. She lifted her head from the pillow to peer into Daniel’s face.

“Did I wake you, honey?” His voice came softly, his breath on her lips. “I was trying to reach the water.”

“I’ll get it.” Mercy moved carefully off the bed, went around to the other side, and groped on the table for the glass of water she had put there earlier. She held the reed to Daniel’s lips, and he drank until she heard the sucking sound that said the glass was empty. “Do you want more?”

“No. That’s enough. Come on back to bed.” Mercy lay down beside him, keeping a foot of space between them. “I wish I could hold you,” he said wistfully.

“I wish you could, too, but we’ll have to wait. I’m just so grateful that your wounds are healing and you haven’t been out of your head with a fever.” She moved her bare foot over to his good leg and rubbed the bottom of her foot caressingly over his instep.