Dorothy Garlock (5 page)

Zan shook his head sadly. “People is worser than varmits. They’s crowded in clear to the mighty river, now they’s crossin’ ’n spreading their ruin.”

“It’s something that can’t be stopped, Zan. The country is growing; people are spreading out. Folks like you and me are going to have to find us a spot, hole up, and make the best of it.”

Annie Lash moved toward the door. The wind threatened the light, and the small hoard of oil was finally going to peter out. The men didn’t seem to notice the flickering light, or even remember that she was in the room. She placed the pistol on the table when she passed it and grabbed the straw broom. Mud and water littered the floor, and as she swept, her irritation grew. Not an hour ago she had been sitting quietly, waiting for her candy to cool. Then, all of a sudden, her house was full of muddy feet. Not a man had stopped on the step to scrape the mud from his boots. Well . . . maybe one man. She hadn’t noticed the mud after Jefferson Merrick came in.

She looked out the door into the black night. The rain had stopped and she could see a few stars. The campground would be a sea of mud, and she pitied the women who had to keep the wagons clean. Cleanliness was a mania with Annie Lash. She couldn’t abide dirt on her person or in her house.

Behind her the lamplight flickered and died, but the soft glow from a candle Jeff lit from the glowing embers of the fire pushed back the darkness. Annie Lash closed the door before the draft created by the door and the chimney was too much for the small flame. When she turned, both men were looking at her.

“Would you rather discuss my proposition with Zan alone?” Jeff asked, looking full into her eyes.

She hesitated a moment before she answered. “No. You may as well know when you leave here if I’m going with you or not. Your being here won’t make any difference in what Zan advises me to do.”

“You know him well.” He gave her a faint smile and his eyes darted to Zan.

“Yes. Perhaps not as long as you have, but just as well. Shall we sit down?”

Jeff gestured toward the rocking chair and remained standing until she was seated. Annie Lash noticed the courtesy and her curiosity about this man grew.

“Do you want me to put the words to Zan, or would you rather do it?”

Zan hung his hat on the peg and looked at the mud that clung to his moccasins. “I ne’er thout ’bout the mess I was a draggin’ in, gal.”

“It’s all right, Zan. Sit down and listen to what Mr. Merrick has to say, then tell me if I should consider his offer.”

“Do you remember my brother, Jason Pickett, Zan?” The old man nodded, and Jeff turned his eyes on Annie Lash. “Jason and I had the same mother, but different fathers.”

“If’n I recollect, Jason was short on brains ’n long on temper,” Zan said dryly.

“Six years ago I started a place up on the Missouri. I knew the minute I set eyes on that land, Zan, that that was the place I wanted to be, where I could build something solid and enduring. Will and I came back, cleared the land, and built a cabin. Then we got a message to meet with a representative of Tom Jefferson. How could I refuse, Zan? Will and I have known the President all our lives. Tom was my pa’s best friend. I was his namesake. The mission took a year and a half. In the meanwhile, I put Jason and his wife and two black men that I had freed on the place to look after it and clear as much land as they could for planting. Will and I returned to find Jason had been gone for almost a year. Callie has been alone out there with the two blacks. Thank God, they’re dependable men and didn’t run off and leave her. When I get my hands on Jason, I’ll beat him within an inch of his life.”

The coldness of his tone made Annie Lash glad his anger was not directed at her.

“It should a been done years back. I allas knowed he was a no-good. His pa gived him too much. When hit was gone he’d a’ready been spoiled rotten. Ain’t much ya c’n do with a grown man spoiled rotten.”

“I reckon you’re right, but that still leaves me with the problem of what to do about Callie. She’s worked herself almost to death and she’s sickly. She’s also got two little boys to look after. Her husband deserted her and she had no one but me and Will.”

“Wal, what ya awantin’ with my Annie Lash? Air ya awantin’ to marry up with her and take her upriver?” Zan asked bluntly.

Annie Lash’s neck and cheeks grew warm. Jeff captured her eyes with his, the amber flecks appeared in them again, and the corners of his wide mouth twitched.

“She already turned me down. She said she wouldn’t marry me. I want her to go back with me and take care of Callie and the babes. It’s not right for Callie to be out there alone. She needs a woman with her.”

Zan turned his steady gaze on Annie Lash. “What air ya athinkin’ ’bout that? Hit’s the best offer yet. You’d not have to bed no man ya didn’t want. Hit ’pears to me like ya ort to study on hit.”

The warm glow on Annie Lash’s cheeks turned to scarlet. To make matters worse, her glance at Jeff told her he knew how mortified she was at the mention of bedding a man. Damn him! she thought. And damn Zan, too. What got into him, talking like that? She’d not be pushed—

“Wal, Annie Lash?” Zan prompted.

“I’m studying on it, Zan, like you told me to do.” She spoke with a strong hint of impatience.

Jeff leaned back in the chair, ankle crossed over knee. Zan sat silently on the bench, his hands clasped together, his thumbs twirling around each other. The only sound was the squeak of the chair as Annie Lash rocked. Finally, she spoke to Zan as if they were the only two people in the room.

“Is he trustworthy, Zan?”

“Trusty as any man I ever knowed.”

“It’s a long way. He says they’re bothered some by the Osage.”

“There’s worser thin’s.”

“Well, my land, Zan! What’s worse than being scalped by the savages?”

“Bein’ raped by river rats.”

“I’ve not been out of Saint Louis since I came here with Pa.”

“Ya don’t like town, no ways—”

“What if I want to come back?”

“There ain’t nothin’ fer ya to come back to, Annie Lash.”

“There’s you, Zan. I don’t think I could bear it if I thought I’d not see you again.”

“Ain’t no worry ’bout that, gal. I jist figgered I’d mosey along to see ya get settled in.”

“Oh, Zan. You’d go, too?”

“Ain’t I said hit? I ain’t alettin’ my little gal go off with no raskallion what’s run the Trace.” His eyes twinkled. “He be a rough ’n tumble man, but as fer as I knowed allus on the side of what’s square ’n right. But that’s as fer as I knowed. He’s aged since I seed him last.”

Jeff’s laughter filled the room. Annie Lash could feel the rush of affection between the two men. It was strange. This was the only man she had ever known Zan to loosen up and tease with. He was almost like a different person. There was a new vibrancy about him and he was more talkative than he’d been in a long while.

“You old scutter! I guess in order to get Annie Lash to come help me out, I’ll have to take on a battle-scarred old grizzly b’ar.”

“Humph! Jist consider yourself lucky, ya young skutter, that I didn’t nail yore hide to the wall when I found ya lallygaggin’ ’round here.”

Her future was being decided, Annie Lash thought irritably, and they sat there funnin’ with each other!

“You’d have had your hands full, old man. I was taught to fight by the best man to cross the Alleghenies and go down the pike.”

Zan let out a loud guffaw. “Time ya was asayin’ somethin’ worth a listen to.”

“Zan . . .” Annie Lash’s patience was wearing thin.

“Have ya turned yore mind to what ya’ll do, Annie Lash?”

“That’s what I want to talk about, Zan. If you can be serious long enough. Do you think I should go upriver with Mr. Merrick?”

“Hit’s more’n what I’d hoped fer ya, gal.”

She turned to Jeff and studied him before she finally spoke. “I’ll go with you, Mr. Merrick—if I can take my things.” Her eyes left him and sought the familiar furniture her parents had brought over the mountains from Virginia.

“Take what you want. There’ll be plenty of room.” He got to his feet. His head almost touched the rafters and Annie Lash was shocked once again by how big he was. “I’ll be here an hour before daylight with a wagon.”

Zan followed Jeff to the door.

“Are you going, too, Zan?” She had hoped he would stay so he could tell her more about Jefferson Merrick and why he had decided to go along.

“I’m goin’, gal. Drop the chain, Annie Lash.” He turned as if remembering. “Why’d ya open the door fer ’im?” He jerked his head in Jeff’s direction.

Annie Lash raised her shoulders. “I don’t know. I just thought . . . He seemed—”

“Women!” Zan snorted. “C’mon, Jeff. We got us a powerful bunch of catchin’ up to do.”

Annie Lash shut the door and automatically dropped the chain in place. One short hour ago she had been wondering how she was going to fend off the attentions of Walt Ransom, how she was going to free Zan to go upriver, what direction her life was going to take. Now it was settled. In one short hour a body’s whole life can be shifted in a new direction.

It was like a miracle.

Shortly after the first glint of dawn appeared in the east behind a bank of low clouds, a freight wagon loaded with barrels, wooden crates, an assortment of tools, coils of rope, and numerous other items pulled to a creaking stop in front of the cabin. Annie Lash had heard the jingle of the harness and the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves on the hard-packed clay. She opened the door a crack, and after seeing Zan’s fur hat and hearing him swear as he crawled down from the high seat, she swung it wide.

“Air ya ready, gal?”

“I’m ready.” She stood in the doorway in her plain woolsey dress. There was nothing fancy about it, no touch of color, no apron on its front. It was a serviceable dress, dyed nut brown and well worn. She had a dark shawl thrown about her shoulders, and a three-cornered cloth, tied securely beneath her chin, covered the thick braid she had pinned on the top of her head.

“Mornin’.” Jefferson Merrick loomed out of the darkness and stepped into the cabin.

“Mornin’.”

He looked around the room, then placed a box in the seat of her rocking chair, picked them both up, and maneuvered them through the narrow door.

Zan crawled over the wagon seat and onto the goods already loaded on the wagonbed. He stacked her chair, the walnut washstand, a round keg containing some of the things her parents brought from Virginia, and the feather mattress from her bed. Jeff threw a rope across and they tied them securely. Annie Lash carried out a stack of quilts, a small hand loom, and a few choice fur pelts Zan had given to her to make a warm cape.

The eaves of the cabin still dripped from the night’s rain, and fog lay like a cover of white snow over the river. It was a cold, damp morning. She mentioned it to Zan.

“Hit’ll brighten ’fore noon. Hit’s a’ready ablowin’ away. When they’s heavy fog hit allus means clearin’ weather. Ain’t that so, Jeff?”

“Usually,” he said and heaved Annie Lash’s trunk up onto the flat top of a crate on the end of the wagon. “Is this everything you want to take?” He looked directly at Annie Lash for the first time.

“Yes,” she said and a wistful note crept into her voice. She looked back into the almost empty room. Someone else would use the workbench she had kept so meticulously clean and the feet of some unknown person would muddy the plank floor. She had made a home in this small cabin, although she had never lost the feeling of temporariness while she lived in it. Now that it was emptied of homey things it looked lonely and forsaken.

“Stop your lallygaggin’, Annie Lash, an’ climb on up here.” Zan’s voice seemed loud in the foggy stillness. “Ya ain’t agrievin’ fer this ol’ place, air ya?”

“’Course not, Zan Thatcher!” Her voice was sharp because she was grieving in a small way. She couldn’t help feeling some attachment to the place that had sheltered her these past years.

Annie Lash picked up the cloth bundle that held her brush, a washcloth, a bit of scented soap, and a clean dress; things she would need during the journey to the faraway homestead. She blew out the candle, left the smoking stub on the mantle, and went quickly out the door. Zan reached for her bundle, then took her hand and helped her climb up the big wheel and onto the wagon seat.

“I didn’t know ya set sich a store by this old place,” he said with a hint of impatience in his voice. He moved to the far side of the seat and drew her with him to make room for Jeff on her other side.

“I lived here, Zan. And if I come back it’ll not be to this cabin. Someone else will have it by then. I can’t help it if I feel I’m leaving a part of my life behind, even if it wasn’t a happy part.”

Jeff picked up the reins and flicked the backs of the horses, setting them into motion. Crowded between the two men, holding the bundle on her lap, Annie Lash braced her feet against the lurch of the wagon. They made a wide circle and she caught a glimpse of the cabin one last time before they turned the corner. The team strained to pull the heavy load up the hill to the main street, which at this hour was deserted and dark. Behind a building a dog barked and a hoarse voice cursed it. Nearby a rooster crowed. A muskrat, lumbering toward the river, ignored their passing.

With her shoulders tucked behind those of Zan and Jeff, her hips and thighs snug against theirs, Annie Lash looked straight ahead. She was exhilarated, saddened, and frightened, if it was possible to have all those feelings at one time. She had longed to leave the Bank; she despised the stench of the slop and human excrement, the rough Pittsburgh rivermen who were forever drinking and brawling, and the constant fear of being subjected to their pawing and lewd suggestions. Now, at last, she was leaving it to go to a homestead deep in the wilderness with a man she had not yet seen in the light of day.

She glanced at Jeff, but could only see his clean-shaven cheek and the white-blond hair that his hat didn’t cover. Somehow she sensed that he had a frown on his face and wondered why. He had been politely aloof while loading her belongings on his wagon. Was he already regretting his offer of employment? Did he doubt now that she would earn her keep?