Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (23 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River]
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Addie looked back down at the street as a portly man in a black serge suit, a high-topped hat, and a gold watch chain strung across his chest came out of the bank with a young lady on his arm. She wore a fashionable pink-and-white–striped dress and a lacy bonnet. Her small waist was emphasized by the yards and yards of fabric in the voluminous skirt. Dwarfed beside the big man, she walked with dainty steps, lifting her skirt when necessary with a gloved hand.

Addie’s eyes were not the only ones watching the couple. Men stared; women gawked. A man driving a wagon down the street turned around on the seat so that he could get a better view. The couple seemed unaware of the interest they were creating and continued down the walk to the hotel at the end of the street, where they disappeared inside.

Only mildly interested in the well-dressed couple, Addie pulled the chair to the window and settled down to wait for John.

Van Buren was not only the jumping off place to the West, it was a river town. The streets teemed with a variety of humanity: rivermen, Indians, soldiers, farmers, drifters, and a few Negroes. Deserters from both the northern and the southern armies were coming in out of the hills. While they were eating, John had explained that some were headed south to Texas, others to the far West.

“Anytime you have a war,” John had said, “you have renegades. They swarmed over Texas after the defeat of Santa Anna: stealing, picking up the leavings, killing when it became handy. It’ll be the same after this war. It’ll take a while to clean them out.”

“Will we run into them on the way to New Mexico?”

“It’s possible but not likely. They usually travel in packs of four to a dozen and prey on homesteads or small trains. That’s the reason the judge wants to travel along with us. Don’t worry,” John had said, when he saw the look on Addie’s face. “It would take a small army of them to be effective against us.”

Addie’s mind was brought back to the present when four riders entered the street from the far end of town. Even from a distance Addie could tell that the men were riding exceptionally fine horses. Their slick dark coats gleamed; their manes were brushed and lay on one side of high-arched necks. They had long, sweeping tails that had been perfectly groomed. The men who rode the horses wore the blue uniforms of the Union Army. They sat straight in the saddles, heads up, shoulders back, as if they were on parade.

As they passed beneath the hotel window, Addie saw that the men were as well groomed as the horses they rode. One man in particular caught her attention. Beneath the dark-brimmed hat, his hair was light, curly, and reached almost to his shoulders. He had a handsome blond mustache and goatee and reminded Addie of pictures she had seen of General Lee. She was not at all surprised when the soldiers stopped at the hotel at the end of the street and tied their horses to the rail. Three of the men entered the hotel, and the fourth took up a position at the head of the horses, as if he expected someone to steal them.

Addie heard a soft tap on the door and turned from the window. When John entered the room, she stood and faced him and was once again reminded of how big he was. His hatless head reached almost to the top of the doorway.

Had she been able to think clearly, Addie would have wondered why she didn’t feel threatened by his size and the fact that they were alone in this small enclosure and he had a perfect right to do with her as he pleased. None of these thoughts, however, entered her mind.

“Did you get a wagon?”

“A dandy.” He tossed his hat onto the bed. “It was a stroke of luck that we came today.” He poured water into the bowl from the pitcher and splashed his face. “Wally, at the livery, told me about a Dutchman who came to town yesterday in an exceptionally good wagon and wanted to sell it. Wally said that the man had been on his way to Texas when his wife died. He didn’t want to continue on with four motherless children.” After drying his face, John placed the towel back on the rack and peered into the mirror over the washstand. “I need to visit the barber for a shave and a haircut.”

“What will that poor man do?” Addie asked. “Are any of the children old enough to take care of the others?”

“I didn’t ask. He’ll take his children back to Indiana, where he has relatives.”

“He lost not only his wife but his dreams of starting a new life in a new land.”

“Some people aren’t suited to blaze new trails. They’re better off settling in one place and staying there. The Dutchman is an excellent craftsman. The wagon he built attests to that. But he wasn’t trail-wise, nor had he been wise in his choice of companions for the trip. There’s a good chance he’d not have made it to Texas, and if he did he might not have been able to stick it out.”

“How did his wife die?”

“Snakebite. She was washing in the river and a water moccasin got her.”

“Ohh . . .” Addie shivered.

“The wagon is as well built as any I’ve seen. The Dutchman’s taking his belongings out now. We can leave early in the morning and be back in camp by noon.”

“Why did you camp so far from Van Buren?”

“The animals had pulled the load down from Saint Louis, and they needed to rest and graze. The area around Van Buren is usually grazed out this time of year because of the number of trains that stop here. We plan to stay for only a day when we stop here to meet up with the Van Winkle party. By the way, the judge is in town. I’ll call on him after we visit the store.”

Addie put on her bonnet and looped her drawstring purse over her arm. Then John opened the door and followed her into the hallway.

“Addie, we have a good supply of dress goods in the freight we’re taking back to my father’s store, so you’ll not need any more. But I want you to buy anything else you think you’ll need for yourself, Trisha, and the children.” He smiled down at her. “I don’t imagine you’ll need to buy stockings. I’ll never again wear any but the ones my wife knits. My feet have never felt better.”

“You bought the socks from Mr. Cash?”

“Sure did. They cost me two bits a pair and are worth every cent.”

“Fifty cents?” Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Now you know why I married you: for a lifetime supply of Addie Tallman’s knit socks.”

As he squeezed her arm, his dark eyes teased her. She walked beside him down the stairs, floating along with him on a cloud of happiness.

He was not like any other man she had ever known.

In the lobby of the hotel, John paused to speak to the man at the desk, then took Addie’s arm again and they walked along the street to the big mercantile on the corner.

CHAPTER

*  16  *

A
ddie was amazed at the amount of goods on the counters, the walls, and even hanging from the ceiling of the large store. It must be twice again as large as the store in Freepoint, she thought. It was late afternoon, and there were quite a few other customers in the store. Addie couldn’t see them because of the stacks of goods on the tables. In most places they were piled higher than her head. Passing along the narrow aisles, she could, however, hear the murmur of voices.

“Goods were scarce in Freepoint during the war,” Addie commented to John.

“Most of what’s here has come in from the North since the end of the war.”

A young man with a white apron wrapped about his waist hurried toward them. His hair was parted in the middle and plastered down. A waxed mustache adorned his upper lip.

“Mr. Tallman, it’s a pleasure to see you. We heard you’d be passing through town.”

“Addie, this is Ron Poole. His father owns the store. Ron, my wife, Mrs. Tallman. We’re here to buy shoes for our children.”

“Your children? Ah . . . well, right this way.” He led them to shelves crowded with shoe boxes. “Children’s high-tops are on the top shelves, ladies’ on the bottom shelves. Boys’ boots are at the end of the aisle. Now, what can I show you?”

Addie selected shoes for Trisha and the children, holding the paper tracings of their feet against the soles of the shoes to make sure of the sizes. Then, at John’s insistence, she chose a pair for herself, serviceable black shoes that laced to above the ankle. After picking out brimmed hats for the boys and heavy duck britches for Colin, Addie hesitated over a riding skirt for Trisha.

“Trisha loves to ride,” she said, by way of explanation, as she placed the skirt on the stack of goods they were going to buy. “The owner of the plantation where she was raised had a large stable. She told me about going out into the pasture at night and riding the horses because she wasn’t allowed near them during the day.”

“Do you like to ride?”

“I don’t know. I’ve not ridden anything but the work-horses.”

“Pick out a skirt for yourself. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to ride when we get home.”

Home.
It was the first time he had used the word in connection with her, and, to her surprise, she began to tingle as if she had been pricked with a thousand needles.

John moved along the tables and shelves selecting many items, much to the delight of the store owner’s son, who scurried after him to carry the articles to the counter and add them to the bill he was tallying. Addie lingered beside the table of chalkboards and
McGuffey Readers.
Her fingers caressed the covers of the
Primer,
the
First
and
Second
readers, and the
Speller.

“Do you want them for the children?” John was close against her back and had spoken softly in her ear.

“Colin hasn’t had a chance to go to school. Jane Ann and Dillon are ready to start. I could teach them with these books, but the price is . . . dear.” Her voice was a soft as his.

“You can’t put a price on education. Get them and the
Fifth
and
Sixth
readers too.”

Addie held the four books as if they were treasures. She looked at them, then up at John. Her violet eyes questioned his.

“Will you let me pay for them out of the farm money?”

“I thought we had settled that. What is mine is yours and what’s yours is mine.” He reached around her, bringing his chest against her back, and took the books from her hand. At the same time he picked up the other two. “You’ll need slates and chalk pencils. Get plenty of chalk.”

While Addie was choosing the slates, John went to the table where knives of various shapes and sizes were laid out in neat rows. A couple came toward him down the narrow aisle. The man wore the uniform of the Union, the woman a fashionable pink striped dress. John gave them only a brief glance and dismissed them. In the flicker of an eye he had sized the man up as a dressed up dandy, enjoying the war now that it was over. The soldier was giving his full attention to the woman. She was young and pretty and was looking up at him as if he were the only man on earth.

After much consideration, John selected a folding jackknife for Colin, took it to the counter, then went back to where Addie stood beside the books.

“Can’t decide on the slates?”

“I have the slates, but I don’t know how much chalk to get.”

“Two boxes. It won’t spoil.” He was so serious that she laughed, and her laughter was so infectious that he laughed too. Her musical tones mingled with his deeper, hearty rumble. “I like to hear you laugh, Addie.”

John was fascinated by the sparkle in Addie’s eyes and the smile on her lips. He failed to see the Union officer and the woman who had stopped at the end of the aisle, nor did he notice the way the man’s feet seemed to be frozen to the floor as he stared. Then he turned the lady and urged her toward the door.

“Come on, let’s tally up,” John said. “I’ve got a surprise waiting for you at the hotel.”

“A surprise? Good or bad?”

“What would you consider a bad surprise?”

“Preacher Sikes or Ellis Renshaw waiting for me.”

John laughed.

The store owner winked at his son. John Tallman, usually stern and unsmiling, was plainly smitten with his new wife and was indulging her in whatever she wanted. Too bad, the proprietor mused, that she didn’t want one of everything in the store.

On the way to the counter, John picked up a set of toy soldiers, a sack of marbles, and a small glossy-headed doll.

“John! No!”

“Addie! Yes!” He laughed again.

Suddenly he realized that he had laughed more today than he had during the previous month. The thought sobered him momentarily. Had he fallen in love with this woman? He liked her, admired her, and had married her because at this time of his life he wanted his own family. Also, he felt a certain obligation to her. But love, as his father defined it, was something rare and wonderful and enduring. Had John stumbled into it by accident?

It was dusk when they reached the boardwalk in front of the store. Lamps were being lit along the street.

“We’ll pick up our purchases in the morning on our way out of town,” John said, and stopped her hand when she moved to put the bonnet on her head. “Leave it off. You have beautiful hair, Addie.”

“It isn’t really proper to be on the street without a bonnet.”

“Being
proper
is something we won’t worry about. Shall we eat before we go back to the hotel?”

“I hadn’t thought about that. I’m too excited about all the things we bought and . . . the surprise.”

“It pleases me to see you happy. You’ve not had much happiness, have you?”

“Oh, yes!” She looked up at him earnestly. “I was very happy the day I found Trisha in my barn, the day my son was born, and when Colin and Jane Ann came to live with me. I’ve had a good life, John. I don’t want you, or anyone else, feeling sorry for me or my children.”

John thought it strange that she didn’t mention Kirby Hyde in connection with her happy times.

“I don’t feel sorry for you, Addie. I admire your courage. Not many women could have endured what you have and come out of it as sane as you are.”

“Sometimes I don’t think I’m sane at all. A week ago I was working my garden, hoeing my cotton, tending the sheep, and taking care of my family. And now here I am in a strange place, planning to take my children to a strange land. And I’m—”

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River]
9.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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