The Man from Shenandoah (5 page)

BOOK: The Man from Shenandoah
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Carl grinned. “Colonel Mosby kept us riding fast enough to beat the bullets. That’s not saying we didn’t lose a few men here and there.” His expression changed. “We lost more than a few. I reckon we paid a powerful price.”

“Amen, brother.”

“Leastwise, you made it home, Rule. Pa just told me about Ben yesterday. That’s a mighty blow, I tell you.”

Rulon nodded, clapped Carl on the shoulder, and took a chair. “Pa, what brings you into town in the middle of the mornin’?”

“I’ve come to fetch your sisters home to help your ma. We’ve got a right smart job of work to do in the next fortnight. Well, so do you, come to think of it.”

“What’s that you mean, Pa?”

“I’ve sold the farm, and we’re going to the Colorado Territory to hunt up Uncle Jonathan. I aim to thumb my nose at these Yankees, light a shuck out of here, and make a new life growing cows for all them miners to buy.”

“Do miners need lots of milk and butter, Papa?” asked Julianna. She looked around, confused by the hoots of laughter that greeted her question. “Well, do they?”

“I don’t mean milk cows, daughter. We’re going to raise beef critters.”

“Are you asking us to go with you, Pa?” Rulon asked.

“I’d like it, Rulon. It’d be best to keep the family together. You need good clean air to help you mend proper, and Mary here could use a change, her feeling so poorly just now.”

Mary sank to her knees beside Rulon’s chair, looking anxiously up at him. “I don’t feel like I can leave Pa and Ma and go traipsing over the countryside dodging Yankees, Rulon. Please say ‘no’,” she implored him.

“Don’t you go to fretting, Mistress Mary,” Rod chuckled. “I aim to fix things with your pa right now. Marie, you girls gather up your things into a bundle and get ready to leave with us.”

Rod turned to Rulon. “I’ll leave Clay to help you get things together. He’s a handy young’un, for his age.”

Marie wagged her finger at her father. “Pa, don’t let Clay hear you talking like that. He’s done more than his share of the work since Carl took off to ride with Mosby. Then when James got drafted, well, he was the man on the place, and he’s mighty proud of the job he done.”

Rod laughed and tipped his hat onto his head. “Comin’, Carl?”

“Ready, Pa.” Carl rose to his feet and accompanied his father through the door.

“We’ll go over and catch Rand in his store. He won’t know what hit him.” Rod laughed as he mounted his horse.

~~~

When he entered the Hilbrands Mercantile a few minutes later, Carl sniffed the spicy odors of the candy counter, just as he had in years past. This was a friendly place, as well known to him as his home or his saddle.

Rod walked in as though he owned the mortgage, moving with an easy, strolling gait. “Rand,” he greeted his friend, hand outstretched.

“Well, Rod Owen, you old nag-rider, you found you another son.” Randolph Hilbrands took

Rod’s hand and shook it. “Seems like a new one comes home every day.”

“Just got in yesterday. Colonel Mosby kept his boys in after school let out.”

“You, with five sons left to you, you can joke. Me, with five daughters, and only one married, well, I’m past laughing.” Rand stroked his thin black moustache.

“Now Rand, it hardly seems likely that your girls are all of a marryin’ age. Why, wasn’t Amanda just having a child about the time I left for the fighting?”

“That would be Eliza. But Ida, now. She fancies herself quite a lady, and her not yet seventeen. Always going around worrying about when she will marry. I’m afraid Mandy’s filled that girl’s head with a mess of nonsense.” Rand shook his head and eased his tall, fleshy frame back onto his stool.

“She’s just the age of my Marie. I reckon she’s the same way.”

“Not like my girl Ida. You never heard the like of the plans she makes to catch her a beau. It’d curl your hair, Rod.”

Carl felt the heat of embarrassment creeping into his face, and turned away from Mr. Hilbrands’ somber description of his daughter’s antics. Looking around at the displays to find one out of earshot, he bumped into the saucy Miss Hilbrands herself, who had just entered from the street.

“I declare, you are the clumsiest—” As Ida got a good look at the object of her verbal attack, she backed up a step and started over. “I
am
so sorry,” she drawled. “Silly me, can’t help but trip on this old floor. Now let me think. You must be Carl Owen, Rulon’s brother. I declare, you have grown up so nicely.”

Carl stared at her, hoping his mouth wasn’t open. Ida Hilbrands had grown up very nicely herself. Above a pair of merry blue eyes was the blondest, silkiest mop of curls he had ever seen. Her nose was tiny, with a hint of mischief to its tilt. Her mouth looked as though it laughed a great deal of the time, and was just now curled upward as she smiled gaily at her prize.

Ida threw back her head and gave a little sigh, and Carl became aware of other curved portions of her body.

“Carl Owen, I declare, has the cat got your tongue? You haven’t said one little word since you bumped into me!” Ida smiled encouragingly, tapping her foot.

“I—I’m truly sorry, Miss Ida. I’m not used to being home yet, and in the company of such a pretty little thing as yourself. You have surely changed since last I saw you.” Carl recalled a vague person with long braids and knee-length skirts.

“Have you been home long?” Ida inquired sweetly.

“I arrived last evening. Got my parole last week near Charlottesville.”

“All this talk of paroles! Makes our men folks out to be a passel of criminals.”

“We was prisoners of war. The paroles mean we’re on our honor to come home and wait for an exchange. I got my parole, like I said, then snuck me a Yankee rifle. Almost got caught, but I slipped away.”

“Well, I never heard of such a thing,” Ida exclaimed. “Why on earth would you want a dirty Yankee rifle?”

“Because it’s an almighty good one, a repeater. I needed me a good firearm.”

“I don’t know anything about rifles and such,” Ida murmured, looking at Carl with dreamy eyes.

“I have to see if Pa needs any help,” Carl gulped, anxious to be away from the gaze of those eyes. “It was wondrous fine to see you again, Miss Ida.”

“You’ll have to come around and see us from time to time, now that this nasty war is over,” she countered.

“I’d be pleased to,” Carl nodded. He looked down and stared at his boots.

Ida tossed her head, greeted her father, and went into the back room of the store, sending one last smoldering look towards Carl.

He dropped a sigh of relief, then walked over to where his father and Ida’s were deep in discussion.

“I’ve got my store,” Rand said. “I can make a living. You go ahead on. I’ll not set the Yankees to your trail.”

“I hope you’ll give it a bit more thought, Rand. You’ve got goods here for a store in the Territory. Look around you and see the conditions hereabouts. Folks are starving, and all you can do is hand out credit and pray they’ll get a good crop to repay you.” Rod paused to scratch his nose. “Those miners in Colorado Territory have good hard money, gold dust and nuggets, mostly, and dug fresh out of the ground by their own hand. The things they lack are the goods you have right here. It don’t seem right when you could make a bunch of money, were you in Colorado. It’s not fair, somehow.”

Carl wondered how long the silence would last. He glanced at Rand, and nearly laughed out loud at the hungry look that came across the older man’s face.

“Gold dust and nuggets, you say?” Rand passed his hand over his face. “I’ll go with you Rod, but with all this inventory and my house goods, too, I’ll be needing an extra driver, and I’m willing to pay a good wage. Will you give me Carl, here?”

Rod turned to his son, eyes twinkling. “Will you drive Mr. Hilbrands’ wagon, son?”

“I reckon. You’ve got help a-plenty with the other boys.”

“It’s done then, Rand.” Rod shook hands with his friend. “Have your wagons ready to go in a fortnight. We’ll meet at my farm, and get an early start.”

“Good. I want to get out there before some other merchant garners all the business.” Rand chuckled, and rubbed his hands along his apron front.

Rod waved good-bye and left the store, followed by Carl.

“Well, Pa,” the young man said, once they were outside. “It didn’t take so long to change his mind.”

“I reckon I saved the best for last, son. I knew Rand Hilbrands could never stand the thought of good hard gold a-slipping through his fingers.” Rod mounted his horse.

“It surely was comical to watch his face change.” Carl swung into his saddle. “Who else do you aim to see here in town, Pa?”

“I’m going over to speak with the blacksmith. I hear he’s been itching to go west since his wife died last winter. If he goes with us, Tom can take his little ones along, not leave them with the Campbells.”

“Isn’t Tom O’Connor some kind of kin to the Campbells?”

“Closer than most. Mistress Molly is Tom’s sister. Now if Angus will agree to go with us, the whole passel of them can stick together and make a new start in the Territory.”

“Why don’t I go give the girls a hand, Pa? You don’t need me to talk to Mr. O’Connor.”

“Have them ready to go when I get back. Look, there’s Angus Campbell himself, crossing the street up yonder. I may be gone for a while, son. I’ll see you back at the house.” Rod nudged his horse into a trot, and little puffs of dust arose as he went up the street.

Carl turned off toward Rulon’s house. The sun had come out bright and strong, and it felt good and warm on his back. He grinned. “Hush, we’re going west.”

As he reached the corner, Carl saw a group of mounted men dashing up the cross street in front of him. Panic rose in his throat as he recognized the Yankee patrol that had jumped him, and he wheeled his horse to find a place of concealment. Then he realized where he was, turned Sherando again, and tried to calm his pounding heart. The soldiers were probably racing through the streets of Mount Jackson to make a ruckus, and he felt foolish to be caught in their trap.

“Easy, boy,” he told his horse. “It ain’t likely they’ll take after me in town.”

The Yankees drew up at the far end of the street, then turned and started back to town. As they thundered toward him, Carl noticed a young girl opposite him, evidently trying to decide whether to cross. She hesitated a moment, then bolted out into the street. In the middle, she looked around at the approaching soldiers, tripped, and fell into the road.

Without thinking, Carl spurred his horse into the street, leaned out from his saddle, and plucked the arising girl from the muck. Sherando carried them across the road while the Yankees whooped and whistled as their horses rushed by, venting their disappointment. Carl got down the street, turned a corner, then pulled up and set the girl on her feet and slid off his horse.

“Hush my mouth! That was the foolest thing I ever seen a body do!” Carl made no attempt to stop the hot words from tumbling out of his mouth. He glared at the girl, standing in the street with her chin up and her eyes flashing, auburn hair disheveled, the front of her clothes mud-caked and dripping. “You surely could have been killed, and that’s a fact! You keep clear away from that gang of Yankees, you hear? Darn fool girl, anyhow.” He got on his horse and left her standing there, pridefully biting back tears of relief. Then he rode away, shaking mud and slime off his arm, and muttering to himself.

~~~

Carl dismounted at Rulon’s fence and tied his horse, then rapped on the door. Marie answered and looked him over a moment before letting him enter.

“Did you fall off your horse, brother?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Carl glared at her. “Don’t start in a-teasing me, Marie,” he warned, stalking into the room. “Where can I clean up?”

“The well is in the back. I’ll bring you soap and a towel if you’ll tell me how you got so dirty.”

“Keep them. I ain’t going to give you the satisfaction.” Carl left through the kitchen.

Marie heard the squeak of the windlass as she headed toward the stairs. “Stubborn,” she proclaimed. Before she had gone up two steps, someone rapped in the front door again. Marie sighed, came back down, and opened the door.

“Ellen Bates! Whatever happened to you?”

“Please let me come in. I’m afraid those nasty Yankees will bother me again.” Ellen’s voice quivered dangerously, and Marie stepped back to admit her. Then she closed and bolted the door.

Ellen Bates was covered in the front with a slimy layer of mud. She stood by the door, shaking and dripping on the floor. Marie grabbed her arm and led her to the fire.

“Set here by the hearth while I get some water to clean you up.” Marie went toward the kitchen, then halted. “Ellen, my brother Carl just went into the back yard with his arm all covered with mud, and in such a rage. Does he have anything to do with the state you’re in?”

Ellen moaned and covered her face with her hands. “Is that who he was? I’ll never be able to face him.” She got up and moved toward the door. “I have to leave.”

“Oh now, you ain’t going anywhere.” Marie barred her way. “I won’t let you go out there looking like you fell down in the road. Oh lawsy! That’s what happened, ain’t it.”

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