Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (14 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River]
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Trisha looked at him. Her face was pale above the dark collar of her dress. Her jet-black hair, honey-colored eyes, and small, petallike lips made her a thousand times more enticing than any other woman he had ever seen. For a long, stunned instant Buffer Simmons’s mind absorbed her image like a sponge and he was struck speechless, as tongue-tied as a smitten boy.

And then, as fast as a flicker of her long lashes, the moment was gone. Simmons regained his senses. With a slight bow of his head, he gigged his horse sharply and rode away.

John lingered at the end of the wagon until Simmons rounded the barn and was heading toward the knoll behind the house, then he walked back to speak to Colin.

“We’ll start off at a good clip because the horses are fresh. Then we’ll settle down to an even pace.” He glanced at Trisha. She was looking straight ahead. “Let Trisha drive some. I don’t want you to wear yourselves out; you might need your strength later on. Keep as close as you can, without letting your team get too close to my horse, Victor; and sing out if you need help. We’ll keep going until after dark, then find a place to rest until the moon comes up.”

“Do ya think they’ll come after us?” Colin asked.

“Yeah,” John said honestly. “If nothing else, they’ve got to make a show of it in order to save face. But Simmons will lead them off and give us a chance to put some miles between us.”

“Where we goin’, Mr. Tallman?”

Not even Addie had voiced that question.

“I’ve got men with freight wagons waiting west of here. We’ll head for them. The Renshaws will think it’s Shiloh all over again if they come up against that outfit.”

John circled Colin’s wagon to see that everything was tied securely before he climbed up onto the seat beside Addie.

“Well, here we go.” He cracked the long, snaky-looking whip out over the backs of the mules. The wagon lurched, steadied, and moved forward. John glanced at the woman beside him. “Don’t look so sad. You can come back sometime.”

“I don’t think I want to.”

With her eyes on the house, Addie held fast to the side of the wagon seat. Her throat was dry. Her heart felt like a lump in her chest.

Goodbye . . . goodbye . . . goodbye . . .

The wagon lurched on.

 

*  *  *

 

They left the homestead at dusk. Addie didn’t look back. Her tear-misted eyes stared westward. She didn’t even hear Dillon’s and Jane Ann’s shrieks of laughter coming from behind the seat. They were having the time of their lives; she was starting a new one, putting her trust in a man she had met not much more than three days ago.

Addie had always liked the early evening hours. She loved to watch the soft sunlight change the colors of the sky and to inhale the cool, fresh air with the smell of cedar in it that swept down from the Ozarks. She supposed that it was fitting that she start this new life in the evening and not in the morning when she would have a full day before her.

When she was young and her parents were alive, Addie thought now, everything had been easy, and life was forever. She had never imagined that life would be so hard, so lonely, and so full of disappointments. Like any young girl, she had dreamed of sharing her life with a man. His image had changed from time to time as she grew older, but he was always strong and loving. He would build his life around her and the children they would have.

That summer almost five years ago, she thought she had met such a man when Kirby came to the farm. There had been an emptiness within her, a yearning that begged to be fulfilled. She was a woman with a woman’s love to give, and she had needed someone to reach out for it.

She had been blinded by loneliness.

 

*  *  *

 

The light was leaving the sky.

Addie hadn’t said a word since they had left the farm, nor had the man beside her. The children lay on the mattress whispering and giggling.

“Mr. Tallman, you still have the money Mr. Birdsall paid me for the farm.”

“It’s in that tobacco can under the seat if you want it. I suggest you not carry it on you.”

“I want to pay you for what you’ve done.”

“You will.”

“Name your price,” Addie said tersely.

“Well, let’s see. I left a perfectly good change of clothing and an unpaid bill back at the hotel in Freepoint. If the proprietor refuses to keep the clothes in exchange for the bill, he’ll be sending the law after me.”

“I don’t know what I can do about that.”

“You can take me under your wing and take care of me like you did the other orphans.”

“You’re not an orphan!” Addie said crossly. “Or . . . helpless to defend yourself in a world of grown-ups who consider children no more than property.”

“No, I’m not. Calm down, Addie. I know it’s a shock to leave your home so suddenly, and I don’t blame you for being up in the air about it. The only other thing you could have done was stay and fight it out with the Renshaws. They had the law on their side, even if Trisha did have a good solid reason for shooting the bastard.” He looked at her then. She had removed her bonnet and the breeze was blowing her hair. Her slender body was as stiff as a ramrod. Then, as he watched, her shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

“I realize that, and I’m terribly grateful—”

“Even if she hadn’t shot Renshaw, your troubles were just beginning. The magistrate said that Renshaw had filed papers to adopt Colin—”

“Oh, good Lord!”

“That’s not all. Preacher Sikes was going to try to take Dillon away from you.”

The words hit Addie with the force of a cannon ball.

“Take Dillon? Preacher Sikes would . . . take Dillon away from me because I didn’t want to give up Colin?”

“No, that’s not it. I guess you set the old man off the other morning with your cussing and calling him a hypocrite. Now he’s sure that the boy should be removed from the home of a fallen woman. In other words, taken out of a whorehouse.”

“A whorehouse?” Addie gasped. When she was able to get her breath, rage roared through her like a tidal wave. Her anger was so great that she choked on her words. “Why, that . . . that old son of a bitch!”

“Addie, watch your language! You’re cussing again.” There was laughter in John’s voice, but it did nothing to allay Addie’s anger.

“Take my son? I’d kill him first! He’s nothing but a fat, overbearing, Bible-spoutin’ hypocrite! A toad is what he is. If I ever see him again, I’ll spit in his face. He’s crow bait! A yellow, stinkin’ coward! He wouldn’t dare try to take a boy away from his father even if he was the sorriest man alive!” Addie was so agitated that the angry, bitter words flowed from her mouth like a fountain. She wadded up her sunbonnet and twisted one of the ties around and around her wrist until it broke.

John turned his face away because he couldn’t keep from grinning. He had jarred her out of her doldrums. She was riled aplenty. He was glad that he had saved that part of the news until now. It had taken her mind off leaving her home.

Addie was still muttering.

“That pompous know-it-all horse’s ass will never get his hands on my son, and that dirty son of Satan, who old Sikes said was such an ‘upstanding’ pillar of the church, will never get his filthy hands on Colin or Trisha. I’ll blow his damn head off first!”

John whistled through his teeth. “I sure hope you never get mad at me, honey. I’d not stand a chance.”

Addie was so angry that the endearment failed to register in her mind. She turned to face him.

“I’m so damn tired—of being run over, knocked down, disregarded, and looked down on because I’m a woman and don’t have anyone to stand up for me. Tired of it. Do you hear?
Tired of it!

“Yes, I hear. Don’t blame you a bit,” John said evenly.

“It’s going to be different from now on. You can bet your bottom dollar on that.”

“Good for you.”

“Don’t placate me, Mr. Tallman.”

“I’m not, Addie. I’m just agreeing with you.”

She glared at him. “You don’t know what it’s like being a woman alone. Damn men! They don’t give a woman credit for having any brains at all.” She turned to look at the wagon behind them. “Where’s Mr. Simmons?”

“He hung back to see what the Renshaws would do.”

“That was good of him. I’ll pay him something too.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because he didn’t hire on. He
offered
his help.” He spoke in a crisp, almost angry tone.

Addie sat quietly wondering why in the world she had let her tongue run away with her. As she gathered her scattered thoughts, questions began to pop into her head.

“How far ahead are your men, and why are they there and you here?”

“If we keep going, we’ll meet up with them by late tomorrow. They’re there because they brought the freight wagons down from Saint Louis, and I’m here because I’m trying to get you and your family away from the Renshaws.”

“Why are you not with your men and the freight wagons?”

“I went to Saint Louis, ordered my goods, and left my men to load it and head back while I visited my cousin Zachary Quill at Quill’s Station, a small place up on the Wabash River.”

“That doesn’t explain why you were in Freepoint,” Addie said pointedly.

“My cousin asked, as a special favor, if I would allow a friend of his and his party to trail along with us through the Indian Nations and the Oklahoma Territory. He’s coming down from Springfield and will rendezvous with us five days from now. Does that answer your questions?”

“That still doesn’t explain why you were in Freepoint.”

“I had time to kill. Wanted to see the sights, maybe take a bath, visit the . . . taverns.”

“Oh.”

“Are you satisfied that I’m not an outlaw or a spy, or a renegade? Speaking of renegades, there are plenty of them now that the war is over.”

“Do you think we’ll run into any?”

He shrugged. “Maybe; maybe not. But that’s another reason why I want to reach my camp as soon as possible. To some bands I’ve seen, you and Trisha would be worth more than money.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

“No. Addie. I’m trying to be truthful.”

After a brief silence, Addie asked, “Is Van Buren a good-sized town?”

“About the size of Freepoint.”

“We’ve got to find a place to settle.”

“Don’t worry about it now. We’ll talk about it tonight.”

“Muvver.” Behind her, Dillon stood and pulled on her arm. “I gotta wet!”

“Dillon, please—”

“Can’t help it,” he said urgently, holding himself and moving restlessly.

“I gotta pee too.” Jane Ann’s announcement was even louder than Dillon’s.

“In a little while.”

“But I
need
to, Muvver.”

“Can you two wait just a little bit longer?” John asked, as though he dealt with such situations frequently. “After we round that bend and go just a little farther, we’ll stop and rest the teams. You can get a drink of water and go to the bushes.”

“I’ll wait,” Dillon said.

“Me too,” Jane Ann echoed as she and Dillon sank back down on the mattress.

How odd, Addie thought, to be discussing bodily functions with this strange man and not even feel embarrassed.

CHAPTER

*  10  *

U
neasiness touched Addie as she watched John untie his horse from the back of the wagon.

“I’m going to backtrack a mile or two to see if we’re being followed. Give the horses and mules a bucket of water each and no more.” He sprang up onto the horse’s bare back. “Addie, fire two rapid shots if you need me.”

They all stood motionless for a few seconds after he left. Then Colin took two buckets from the back of the wagon, handed one of them to Trisha, and walked down to the stream that ran alongside the trail.

“Be careful of snakes.”

“Miss Addie, why’d ya have ta go say that for?” Trisha grumbled.

“Muvver—”

“Go to the other side of the wagon, Dillon, and do what you have to do. Jane Ann, go down to the stream with Trisha.”

Addie waited until her son was in sight once again, then went to the end of the wagon bed to check on her sheep.

“You all right, Mr. Jefferson?” she asked, rubbing the spot between the ram’s eyes. “Are you watching over Dolly and Bucket?” The sheep had risen shakily to their feet. “You’ll get a drink of water in a minute.”

After the sheep had been watered and the horses and mules rubbed down with a couple of tow-sacks, the little group quietly ate the biscuits and meat Addie had wrapped in a cloth and stored under the wagon seat.

Standing with Colin and Trisha on the dark, lonely roadside, Addie suddenly realized how much she had come to depend on the tall, dark man who had thrust himself into her life. He had swiftly become her strength and her courage. How was she going to cope without him? Cope she would, she knew that, but it was different now. She’d had a taste of how it was to have a strong man to share her troubles.

“Miss Addie, do ya feel bad?” Trisha had come up close to her after she had helped Dillon and Jane Ann back up into the wagon so they could lie down.

“I don’t feel
bad,
” Addie whispered. “I just feel kind of lost out here all by ourselves.”

“I mean, do ya feel bad ’bout leavin’ the farm? I do hates it, Miss Addie. If’n I hadn’t a-shot that polecat—”

“I don’t think we could have kept Colin away from him otherwise. And no, I don’t feel bad. I did at first, but it was just the breaking away. I’ve always wanted to see something else, do something else. I didn’t want to live there on that farm until I died.”

“Ya ain’t blamin’ me?”

“Of course not!” Addie put her arm around the girl. “Don’t even think such a thing!”

“What we gonna do? Is that
passerby
takin’ us to a town where them Renshaws can’t find us?”

“I asked him about that. He said we would talk about it tonight. I keep telling myself that he’s an honorable man. He must be. Why else would he be taking the risk to help us?”

“That other’n. That Simmons. What’s he hangin’ ’round for?”

“What do you think, Colin? You seem to know Mr. Simmons better than Trisha and I do.”

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River]
6.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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