A Quilt for Christmas (20 page)

“Oh, I got the right farm.” He slowly dismounted and stood before Eliza. “I got the right farm, Eliza Spooner.”

Eliza stared at the man. The beard covered his face, but his eyes were familiar—dark eyes, deep, maybe cruel. She did not like them. “Who are you?”

“Don't you know?”

Eliza shook her head.

The man gave a mirthless smile and said, “I'm Hugh Stark, and I come for my wife.”

“Hugh!” Eliza's hand flew to her mouth. “But you're dead. I saw the letter.”

“Oh, I wasn't dead. I just didn't want to be a soldier no more.” He chuckled as if he had just shared a joke.

Eliza stared. “How can that be?”

“I put my truck on a dead Yank, and I give a man a dollar to make sure the gov'ment thought I was the one that was dead. Then me and another fellow took off. You heard of Quantrill?”

Eliza had indeed heard of the outlaw who terrorized Kansas with his gang of bushwhackers. They sympathized with the South and were no better than thieves and cutthroats. “You were one of Quantrill's Raiders? But you enlisted for the Union.”

“I never cared about the Union. Nor the South, neither, if you want to know the truth of it. I just wanted to get off the farm, and I had me a gaysome time of it. But I come back for Missouri Ann, so you tell me where's she at. And you be quick about it. I ain't got time to waste. They say there's a price on my head for what I done with Quantrill, so ain't nobody in Wabaunsee County to know I'm here.”

“What makes you think Missouri Ann is with me?”

“Oh, I come across Dad and them down south of here. Funny thing running into them like that, right there on the road. They thought I was dead. Missouri Ann done a good job of telling it. Why, they was never so happy to see a body as they was to see me. Mother even said it was like the resurrection of Jesus Christ.” He paused, thinking that over. “I guess it was at that.” He smiled, and Eliza thought there was never a man so unlike Jesus Christ as Hugh Stark. And one who so little deserved resurrection.

“At any rate, Amos said Missouri Ann'd been living with you, but he believed she had married the blacksmith, damn her soul. I went to the smithy, but it's been sold. Missouri Ann shouldn't have done that. She should have acted like a proper widow, waiting for her husband to come back.”

Eliza blinked at the irrationality of what he'd said.

“You know as well as me that marriage ain't legal, me being her real husband and alive and all. Mother says to leave be, that there's plenty of girls younger and prettier who'd have me. But I fancy Missouri Ann. Besides, she belongs to me, and ain't nobody else going to have her.” He looked at the house, but then turned back to Eliza and stared at her with his angry eyes.

“Missouri Ann believed you were dead. She had a right to marry again. You leave her alone. She's found a better man than you.”

Hugh smirked. “Ain't nobody better than me, not for Missouri Ann anyway.”

“Oh, I know about you, Hugh Stark. Missouri Ann told me how you held her down, forced your seed into her.” Eliza blushed at words that burned her tongue

“I didn't force nothing on her. She wanted it. She's a wildcat, that one. Hell, I might not even have been the first one. If Nance hadn't looked so much like a Stark, I'd of thought she might not be mine.”

“How foul!” Eliza shouted. “You profane her. You have no right.”

Eliza was so loud in her declaration that Luzena came outside and walked toward her mother, a carving knife in her hand. “You want me to ring the bell, Mama?” she asked. The bell would summon Davy.

“That isn't necessary. Mr. Stark is just leaving.” Eliza feared that with his quick temper, Hugh might find a reason to attack Davy, and she knew Starks fought dirty.

At the name Stark, Luzena jerked up her head, then moved to her mother's side. “Which Stark?” she whispered.

“
Hugh
Stark. He wasn't dead after all, just a common deserter,” Eliza replied.

Hugh smirked, then looked over the girl, grinning at her. “You're just about the size of Missouri Ann when I first knowed her—knowed her like the Bible says.”

Eliza clenched her jaw. “You'd best be on your way, Hugh. We do not care to have you here.”

He laughed, then took a step forward, towering over Eliza and Luzena. “Now you tell me where Missouri Ann's at or maybe I'll just take this girl. She looks ripe enough.”

Luzena looked up at her mother, then slowly moved her hand to give Eliza the knife. But Hugh saw the weapon, and before Eliza could grasp it, Hugh brought his huge hand down on her arm, and the knife fell to the ground.

“Mama!” Luzena screamed, grasping her mother's arm, but Hugh yanked her away, dragging her toward the horse. Eliza rushed forward, as Luzena whimpered, “Don't let him take me.”

“Let her go!” Eliza screamed, but Hugh only laughed and tightened his grip on Luzena's arm.

“Help me, Mama,” Luzena cried.

“You tell me where Missouri Ann's at?”

“I won't,” Eliza replied.

Hugh twisted Luzena's arm until she screamed and cried, “Tell him Missouri Ann went off to Oregon. It doesn't matter. It's a big territory. He'll never find her.”

Hugh laughed as he released Luzena, shoving her to the ground, and turned to Eliza. “Well, now, I guess I got what I come for. I'd take this one with me, but she's not woman enough for a Stark. I'll tell Missouri Ann when I catch up with her that you said howdy. She'll say it back, that is if I let her.”

“No, Hugh, you mustn't go there,” Eliza protested. “She has a new husband, a good one. Shame on you for following after her.”

Hugh mounted his horse, and pulled back on the reins so hard that the horse took a step backward. “Mother fancies that baby. Maybe I'll bring Nance back instead of Missouri Ann.” He spurred the horse and took off down the lane.

Luzena lay in the dirt until Hugh was gone, then Eliza helped her stand. “Is your arm all right?”

“I screamed louder than necessary.”

“You were a brave girl,” Eliza said.

“He wouldn't have taken me, would he?”

“No.” But Eliza wasn't so sure. “Whatever made you smart enough to say Missouri Ann had gone to Oregon?”

“It was all I could think of. I couldn't say Colorado. I guess I can outthink a Stark.”

“You do it even better than Missouri Ann.” Eliza paused a moment. Then she said, “Luzena, I believe it is best that we don't tell anyone about this, even Davy. Mr. Stark said it's not known he has been here, so no one but us will be aware he is alive.”

“But what about Missouri Ann?”

“She should know least of all. You see, since Mr. Stark is alive, Missouri Ann is still married to him. That means she is…” She paused, but continued when she decided that Luzena was old enough to understand. “She is living in sin with Mr. Ritter. But if she does not know it, is she really living in sin? I believe the knowledge Hugh is alive would only bring her grief. Can you keep the secret?”

Luzena smiled at her mother. “You know I can.”

*   *   *

They never heard of Hugh Stark again, or any of the Starks, for that matter. People believed they had settled in Texas or perhaps had gone on to Arkansas or Alabama. But at any rate, they disappeared from Wabaunsee County.

Some weeks later, Eliza received a letter printed in a childish hand that she recognized immediately as Missouri Ann's. Eliza had picked up the letter at the post office and put it into her basket so that no one would see it. She believed it prudent to keep Missouri Ann's whereabouts to only the members of the quilt group. Outside, she stood by herself in the sun, too excited to wait until she returned home to read the letter. So using her fingernail, she picked at the wax on the envelope and removed the letter, noting as she did that the envelope was postmarked Georgetown, Colorado Territory.

Dear Friend Eliza

Me & Print Ritter & Nance has arrived in Colorado & we are living in the mountains. Print & his brother are looking for a gold mine. I like Print fine but I don't like mountains. They are too big. Print says when we get our stake we will go back to Kansas, that is if the Starks has gone off. I ain't so much afraid of them out here. You will never guess who I saw when we went through Denver. It was Clara the colored we hid. She made it safe & she takes in laundry. She come right up to me on the street her not even knowing who I was & says in the funny way she talks you got washing you need done lady? Well, I says you look like Clara & she says I am Clara & I say I'm Missouri Ann & I'm married now & I'm Mrs. Ritter. She did my washing & didn't charge a cent. She says if you come to Colorado she'll do yours free too because you was so good to her. She asked what you done with the quilt square & I told her mine was right there with me in the wagon but I didn't know nothing about what you done with yours. Well we are fine. Nance talks a good bit now & next year me & Print have got up our own baby. I am sorry I left you when you was grieving so bad & I hope you are better. Please write to your old friend & tell me the news. Print says to give Mrs. Spooner his regards & regards from your friend Missouri Ann, too.

Mrs. Print Ritter that was Missouri Ann Stark

As Eliza folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope, she thought about the child that Missouri Ann would have, and it struck Eliza then that life didn't stop. Will was dead, but Missouri Ann was going to have a baby. Birth and death were God's way, she told herself. Joy and sorrow were joined together.

*   *   *

Missouri Ann's letter reminded Eliza of the quilt square depicting a woman and a buggy that Clara had left for her. So after she returned home, Eliza removed the square from her sewing basket and took it and her scrap bag outside, where she sat on a stump and thought how she would incorporate the square into a quilt. She could use it as the center block of almost any design. Or perhaps she would make one of the Album quilts she had read about in
Peterson's Magazine.
She could make other squares depicting the barn, the fields, the church, the children, her quilt group. As she reached into her scrap bag to see what other colors she had, Eliza peered through the thick trees that hid the farm from the road, and glimpsed a man. She wouldn't have paid much attention except that he was going east along the road instead of west. Most of the soldiers headed west, so perhaps he was a settler returning to his farm.

Although it was midsummer, they still came, those discharged men. In the beginning, they had been strong-bodied, but the ones who stopped now were often the sick ones, lame, held up by friends, all of them headed for home, or maybe a better life somewhere to the west.

This man was tall and walked with a limp, and Eliza thought he would go on past, but he stopped and stared at the house for a long time before he turned down the lane. It crossed Eliza's mind as it had every time a soldier passed now that maybe he was Will. If Hugh Stark could come back from the dead, why couldn't her husband? But Will was no deserter. Besides, she could tell from the shape of the man that he was no one she knew. A sadness still came over her each time she saw a soldier and knew he was not her husband.

Eliza stood and walked to the well as the man reached the barnyard. He would want water. Maybe she'd invite him to supper, that is, if he was a Union man. She couldn't tell from his clothes.

As the man reached her, Eliza saw that he was not just thin but emaciated, his cheekbones protruding as if his face were only skin and bones. She thought she would at least offer him a little bread. “The water bucket's on the side of the well, and there's a dipper,” she said. “How long since you ate?”

“Thank you, ma'am. It's been more than a day, and months since I had what you'd call a meal.”

From the man's way of speaking, Eliza knew he was a Southerner.

He lifted the dipper from its hook and took a fulsome amount of water, drinking it down. He filled the dipper a second time and drank. Then he replaced the dipper and turned to Eliza. “Would this be the Spooner farm?”

Eliza was taken aback. Why would a Confederate be asking about her farm? But she nodded and said, “It is.”

“I asked for directions at the store.” He paused as if getting his courage up. Then he asked, “Would Mr. William Spooner be about?”

“Mr. Spooner is dead. He died in the Battle of Saltville in Virginia.” Eliza clenched her jaw. What right did this man, this Southerner, have to ask about Will?

“I feared as much, and I am most sorry to hear that.” He removed his cap and bowed his head for a moment before looking Eliza full in the face. His face was as gray as his eyes. “Then you'd be Mrs. Spooner, Mrs. Eliza Spooner.”

Eliza gave a single nod, wishing the man would get on with it, then leave. A Southerner asking about Will left a bad taste in her mouth.

“I have traveled from afar to Wabaunsee County to find you, then,” he said. “You see, ma'am, I have come to thank you. You saved my life.”

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

August 18, 1865

Eliza stared at the man as if he had escaped from an asylum. He did not appear demented, but who could tell? If the war had softened the minds of Union soldiers such as the Espy boy, then surely Confederates had been affected, too. Perhaps the man was suffering from soldier's heart, that fatigue that came from seeing too much war. She was a little afraid of him. What he said did not make sense, because she had never met him. How could she have saved his life?

As if he knew what Eliza was thinking, the Confederate gave her a slight smile and said, “You need not fear me, ma'am. I am right in my head, only a little weak for I have walked from Kentucky to this place.”

Eliza looked into his sunken eyes. “To see Will?”