Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (40 page)

“Don’t think about it.” She put another blanket over him when he started to shake. “We’ve got to keep you warm.”

Lenny brought the reed. “Whuskey’ll keep him warm, Hester. Water it down if’n it’s too strong fer him.”

Mercy poured whiskey in the cup and added water. Daniel sucked it up through the reed and made a face.

“I know you don’t like it, love, but it’ll help.”

He drank the whiskey. After a while he slipped into insensibility and dreamed he was being poked viciously with a pitchfork, and then being chased down a dim, narrow road. There was a light at the end, if only he could reach it in time. That dream faded into one where Mercy was standing against the trunk of a tree and a snake was dangling from the limb over her head. She was unaware of it, and he didn’t have a voice to call out to her.

When he roused, it was dark. Mercy held the reed to his lips, and he drank cool water and sank into a dreamless sleep.

The moon was up and shining through drifting clouds when they passed the dark homestead where Belinda Martin lived. Farther down the road, old Mr. Blalock’s dog came out and barked as they passed. The old man yelled, and the dog slunk back under the porch.

It was the middle of the night when they came to Quill’s Station. Not a light flickered anywhere. Mercy told her brother to stop at the store and bang on the door to wake Mike. He came hurrying through the store carrying a lantern. Cautiously he held it up to see who was at the door. The light fell on Mercy, standing in the wagon so he could see her. Her hair hung down her back, her dress was stained. Mike hurried out the door. Now he could see that her skin seemed to have shrunk and that her eyes were circled with dark lines of fatigue.

“My God! What’s happened?”

“Daniel’s been shot. He’s hurt bad, Mike. It happened about the middle of the morning, down below New Harmony. I didn’t know what else to do but to come on home.”

“You did right, honey. Sweet Jesus! Take him on up to the house, and I’ll go get Eleanor and Tennessee.”

“We had a hard time getting him in the wagon. We hurt him. I don’t think we can get him out.”

“You’re home now, honey. Gavin and I will take him in.” Mike turned away from her, but not before she saw the contemptuous look he shot at Lenny. Mercy caught the look, and her anger flared.

“Mike! Lenny and Bernie are my brothers. Don’t you
dare
look down your nose at them! If not for them, we’d be . . . dead!” She began to cry. Loud sobs that came roaring up out of the depth of her misery.

“Why, honey, I didn’t mean anything. Don’t cry! You’ve been through a lot and you’re worn out.”

“I don’t care! We’ve got to get help for Daniel.”

Mike looked at Lenny. “Could you ride on the wagon? If I took Daniel’s horse, I could get there faster.” Lenny slid down. Mike started to mount. “You been riding this sucker bareback?”

“’Pears that I have,” Lenny said dryly.

“Jesus! Give me a boost up.” Mike set the lantern on the end of the wagon. “Take this with you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Bernie pulled the wagon up close to the front door. Mercy and Lenny went into the house. It was cold and damp from being shut up for more than a week. Lenny built up a fire in the hearth. She lit the lamps and kindled a fire in the kitchen stove, knowing they would need hot water. After she prepared a bed in the room off the kitchen, she went back to the wagon to wait with Daniel. It seemed to her an awfully long time before she heard hoofbeats coming up the drive.

*   *   *

Pain awakened Daniel when they moved him from the wagon to the house, and again when Mercy and Tennessee had stripped him to wash away the blood so they could see the wounds. It had been so painful to watch as Tennessee probed into gaping holes for foreign matter and then stitched his flesh that Mercy had run out of the room in tears. Gavin had come to help the calm Tennessee, who went about doing what had to be done.

Now Mercy stood beside the bed and watched the flicker of lamplight play over Daniel’s still features. Her own eyes were glazed with fatigue. She bent and placed small, feathery kisses on his mouth, his cheeks, and his eyes. When she straightened, she saw Mike, Eleanor, and Gavin watching her.

“He is my husband!” she lashed out with unreasonable anger. “I have every right to kiss him if I want to.” She burst into tears.

“Ah . . .” Eleanor came to her and put her arms around her. “Of course you do. I was wondering when you two would wake up and realize you were meant for each other.”

“I’m afraid! Oh, Eleanor! I’m so afraid.”

Gavin put his hand on her shoulder. “Buck up, lassie. Dan’l be a strong mon. He’ll come through, ye’ll see.”

“Tennessee gave him something to make him sleep,” Eleanor said. “Come sit down. Oh, my, so much has happened. I can hardly take it all in.”

Mercy’s mind ran rampant over the events of the last two days, especially about the runaway horse that charged down the trail toward them and the two men who were waiting to kill Daniel. She looked around for her brothers.

“Where’s Lenny and Bernie?”

“On the porch, I think,” Mike said.

Mercy went quickly to the porch. “Lenny,” she called, “are you and Bernie out here?”

Lenny got up from where he sat on the porch, leaning against the house. “We’re here.”

“Why don’t you come in?” She went to them. “Please, come in. Let me fix you something to eat.”

“We ain’t hungry.”

“Damn you! You’ve got to be. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“We had somethin’ this mornin’.”

“Don’t you dare leave without talking to Daniel.”

“He might not be talkin’ fer a while. We got ta be gettin’ on back.”

“Not for a day or two. Please, Lenny. Daniel will want to know as much as you can tell him about the men who were trying to kill him. He’ll want to know if you had anything to do with a big gray horse that came running toward us yesterday.”

“Oh, that.” Lenny grinned and glanced at his brother. “Bernie stung him a bit with his slingshot. The feller ridin’ ’em flew off’n him like he was a bird.”

“Was he waiting . . . for us?”

“I dunno. He was in the bushes. Bernie didn’t think it’d hurt none ta upseat him.”

“Oh, you two are the damnedest—”

“Ya ain’t ort ta swear, Hester,” Lenny said sharply.

“I’ll swear if I want to! I’ll swear every day for the rest of my life if you don’t come in. It’s . . . it’s only good manners to accept your Sister’s hospitality.”

“If’n yore goin’ to make a big to-do about it, I guess we got to. C’mon, Bernie,” he said as if he were being led to his hanging.

Mercy opened the door and preceded them into the house. They came in behind her with their peaked hats in their hands, their wild strawlike hair looking very much like sloppy haystacks, and their eyes on the floor.

“Gavin, Eleanor, I want you to meet my brothers. Lenny and Bernie Baxter. These are my friends, Mr. and Mrs. McCourtney.”

Gavin stepped forward and offered his hand. “Howdy. It’s pleased I am to be knowin’ ye.” His huge hand swallowed first Bernie’s, then Lenny’s, and he shook them vigorously.

Both Baxters murmured, “Likewise.” But they were eying Eleanor’s porcelain, doll-like beauty, as if she were something not quite real. Gavin was used to his wife’s effect on men, and his craggy face broke into smiles.

“This little hunk of hair and bone is me wife. She ain’t nothin’ like what she looks. She’s meaner than a dog with his tail in a crack. I keep her in line by whippin’ her hinder two, three times a day.”

Eleanor held on to her husband’s arm with her two hands and smiled sweetly at Mercy’s brothers.

“Don’t ye be believing the likes a him. He be nothin’ but a Scot with an Irish gift a gab,” she said, mocking Gavin’s Scottish accent to perfection, then gave him a saucy grin.

The brothers looked even more uncomfortable, their eyes going from the big man to his small, beautiful wife. A deep laugh rumbled up out of Gavin.

“I heard Mercy say ye ain’t et,” Gavin said. “My wife will be fixin’ ye somethin’. She not be much ta look at, but she can cook.”

“Ah . . . huh . . . no. We don’t need nothin’.”

“If my big, ugly husband says eat, you’d better eat.” Eleanor’s tinkling laugh was infectious. The brothers grinned bashfully and followed her to the kitchen.

“I’m going to sit with Daniel, Gavin. Don’t let my brothers leave. They just might disappear without me thanking them. I owe them so much.”

“Nora’ll be seein’ to them. Why don’t ye rest, lassie? There be plenty here to sit with Dan’l.”

“I’ll sit with him while you change your dress. Then I’ll put it in a tub of cold water to soak.” Tennessee spoke from the doorway.

When Mercy came back down from her room in the loft, she could hear Eleanor talking to her brothers in the kitchen, heard their low, hesitant voices answering, and then Eleanor’s laugh.

“You’ll have to bring in some firewood, Lenny, if I’m going to heat up this old stove. It’s right outside the door. You’re not getting by without doing anything, Bernie. Take the lantern and go out to the smokehouse and get a slab of bacon.”

Mercy listened long enough to hear Lenny and Bernie scrambling to obey Eleanor’s sweet-spoken commands before she went into the room where Daniel lay. She stood beside Tennessee’s chair and placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder. Tennessee’s arm came around her thighs, and Mercy leaned against her.

“Oh, Tenny! We were so happy when we left Evansville this morning. We could hardly wait to get home and tell everyone our news. We were going to stay here tonight, and I was going out to the farm tomorrow. When I think how close those bullets came to—”

“Don’t think about it. He’s going to need you tomorrow . . . or rather, today. It’ll be morning soon. Why don’t you lie down beside him and rest? There’s plenty of room. I’ll be here to call you the minute he wakes up.”

“Tenny, I’ve got so much to tell you, I don’t know where to start. It all began to happen after you and Eleanor left to go to Vincennes. Oh, how I wished you were here.”

“I know. Mike told us part of it. The rest can wait until you’re rested. Lie down. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Mercy went to the other side of the bed and stretched out beside her husband. Just that morning she had lain in his arms and they had been so full of life and plans. She reached for his hand, held it in both of hers, and stared at his profile. Until today she had not seen him lying down or sleeping. He was always big, strong, taking care of her. Now she would take care of him.

Mercy closed her eyes, intending to rest them for a moment. Fatigue overtook her and she went to sleep.

M
ike and Gavin sat at the table drinking coffee; Eleanor was at the end, busily writing a letter to Farr and Liberty Quill.

“The sooner we get this letter to Farr, the better.” Mike watched Tennessee move noiselessly into the room, pick up the brew she had made for Daniel, and leave.

“I wish we be knowin’ if Perry had a hand in shootin’ Daniel.”

“It all happened mighty sudden for him not to have. Who else would have wanted to get inside the mill and kidnap George? If they were just after Negroes to work their damn salt mine, they could have taken any Negro they saw in the fields. They wanted George because it would hurt Farr and Daniel. Poor Turley. There was no reason to kill him. That Perry is a crazy man! He hired someone to kill Daniel because he sent him on a wild-goose chase after Levi Coffin. That’s how I see it.”

“Ye may be right, but what’s it got to do with Knibee? Nora heard Turley say the mon’s name.”

“What did you find out when you rode out to his place?”

“Nothin’. His woman said he be in Springfield. The looks on his younguns’ faces said it was news to them.” Gavin drained his cup. “Meanwhile I got no idey where to look for George. I feel like I be lettin’ the lad down jist sittin’ here.”

Eleanor looked up. “Someone’s got to run the mill, Gavin. Wait until Farr gets here, or until Daniel is well enough to talk. He may have some idea where Perry would have taken George.”

“Nora, me love, tend to yer writin’. I be doin’ my own decidin’ ’bout what to do.” Gavin spoke to his wife with a note of exasperation in his voice, but Eleanor didn’t seem to notice. She continued to write.

“I can’t tell it all. Oh, won’t Liberty be surprised to learn that Mercy and Daniel are married. It’s what she hoped for. Not that she ever said . . . exactly. But I could tell—”

“Who did ye say ye would be sendin’ to Vandalia with the letter?” Gavin looked up to see Mike’s eyes following Tennessee as she moved from Daniel’s room to go up the stairs to the loft.

“Quentin Burgess,” Mike said absently. After Tennessee disappeared, he added, “That crazy kid of Old Man Burgess’s. He’d ride to hell and back for a price. I’ll pay him half now, and half when he gets back. That’ll keep him honest.”

“It’s done.” Eleanor sprinkled sand on the paper to dry the ink. “I told Farr about Perry coming here, about Daniel and Mercy going to Kentucky, about George and Turley, and about Daniel getting shot. And the wedding.”