Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (15 page)

“He’s a hunter,” the boy said, and Addie felt a surge of sympathy for the boy who had been deprived of a normal, carefree childhood. “He said he was gonna hunt meat for a wagon train that’s crossin’ Oklahoma Territory to New Mexico. He ain’t a bad man, Miss Addie, but I’m thinkin’ that Mr. Tallman don’t like him much.”

An owl hooted. They stopped talking and listened. The owl hooted again.

“It’s quiet, ain’t it? It’s nights like this that haints come out. I betcha there’s a buryin’ place ’round here,” Trisha whispered fearfully.

Addie looked toward the eastern sky and saw the moon coming up over the hills.

“Mr. Tallman said that we’ll travel all night and should reach his men by tomorrow evening.”

“Then what’ll we do?” Colin asked.

“To tell the truth, I don’t know. Right now we’ve got to trust Mr. Tallman.”

“He might’a jist pulled foot and took off,” Trisha murmured. “Took his horse. Ain’t no reason he
got
to come back.”

“He left his saddle,” Colin said quickly. “He’d not leave for good without that.”

“Not that I’m scared or nothin’ if’n he don’t come back. Long’s I got this here gun in my hand, I ain’t scared a nothin’ but . . . haints.” Trisha attempted a brave front, but her voice quivered.

The three waited silently by the wagon where Dillon and Jane Ann lay sleeping. Addie’s eyes swept the darkness for movement. She shivered in the night air and hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. The quiet became almost absolute, broken only by the occasional flutter of a bird or the distant call of a coyote. A cloud floated over the three-quarter moon.

“Addie, it’s me.” John’s voice came from the direction of the stream. Then the sound of horse’s hooves on the rocky bank reached them.

Addie felt tremendous relief when he came in sight leading his horse.

“You all right?” he asked.

“We’re fine. The animals have been watered and rubbed down. Did you see anything?”

“No. Simmons said he could lead them away; I guess he did. But come morning they’ll be on the trail again. They’ll not give up easily,” John said, recalling the trussed-up Renshaw cousin sitting in the fresh cow manure. He retied his horse to the back of the wagon. “Let’s get started. Pull out and go ahead, Colin. Give the team their heads, and they’ll stay on the track. Move them along at a good clip. You got the rifle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I could ride with Trisha, and Colin ride with you, for a while,” Addie suggested.

“No. Colin’s a good hand with the horses and Trisha with the rifle. They make a good team.” He put his hand beneath Addie’s elbow and urged her up onto the wagon seat. “Younguns asleep?”

“It’s way past their bedtime. Even the excitement of the trip couldn’t keep them awake.” Addie unrolled the food she had saved for him, and after he put the team in motion, she broke open a biscuit, put a piece of meat inside, and handed it to him. “I didn’t have time to cook up something to bring. I hope this holds off your hunger pangs for a while.”

John took a bite. “It fills that hollow spot that’s been nagging at me.”

“There’s a churn full of milk back there. We may be making butter.” She laughed softly. “I baked three loaves of bread this morning. We have jam and honey to go with it, so we’ll not go hungry. Dillon and Jane Ann were too tired to eat much tonight, but they’ll make up for it tomorrow.”

John finished off two more biscuits before he spoke. His mind grappled with how to approach Addie with his proposition. The more he thought of it, the surer he was that he wanted Addie and her family to fill the empty rooms in his hacienda. That he had taken responsibility for their safety didn’t enter into this decision at all. He could almost guarantee that if he put them in the care of a friend of his in Fort Smith or sent them north to Quill’s Station, they would have protection from the Renshaws; but he wasn’t sure whether the magistrate had the authority in Fort Smith to take the orphans.

He turned to look at the fair-haired woman with the violet eyes who sat beside him. Her face was turned toward him, as if she were studying him. The moon shone on her face. Courage was there in plenty, and strength. She was exactly the kind of woman he had been waiting for, one who wouldn’t buckle at the first sign of trouble. Looking at her now, he recalled words he had read somewhere before:
There
are in a man’s life certain ultimate things, and just one ulti
mate woman. When he finds her, he does not pass on unless
he is a fool.

“I’m no fool.” He realized he had spoken aloud when he heard a small sound from Addie. “Talking to myself,” he said quickly and grinned. “It means that I spend too much time alone.”

Addie nodded thoughtfully. “I did that when I was alone.”

“When was that?”

“Off and on for the past eight years—after Mama and Papa died. Then, even before Dillon was born, I talked to him and my sheep. Of course, I didn’t know then that Dillon was a
him.
” She laughed nervously.

With the moon lighting the trail, they could clearly see the other wagon. It was quiet except for the jingle of the harnesses, the creak of the wagon and the sound of the horses’ hooves.

“Why did you tell Colin to go ahead?”

“I was afraid his team might get too close to my horse and get kicked. Victor is a mountain-bred horse with strong survival instincts. He’ll let me know if another horse is coming up behind even before I can hear it.”

“Mr. Tallman—”

“Can’t you make yourself call me John?”

“I really don’t know you that well.”

“How long will it take?”

“Well . . . I don’t know the answer to that. But I do want you to know how much the children, Trisha, and I appreciate—”

“Addie, if you tell me one more time how grateful you are, I just might dump you off that seat and drive on without you.”

“Oh, you!” She laughed. “All right. I’ll not say it again . . . tonight.”

“Not tomorrow, not tomorrow night, not ever again.”

After a few moments of silence, Addie said: “Trisha and Colin are anxious about what we’re going to do. So am I. I only know that we’re headed west and Fort Smith and Van Buren lie in that direction.”

“—And my freight wagons.”

It occurred to John that Addie knew nothing about him except what little he had told her the first day at her breakfast table and the little bit more he had told her just after they had left the farm. She needed to know him and his way of life in order to make a decision that would so drastically affect her and her family.

“Do you trust me, Addie?”

“Heavens! If I didn’t, I certainly wouldn’t be here now.”

“Why? Why do you trust me?”

“I guess . . . because you helped us that first night. And, well . . . you
seem
trustworthy.”

“That’s not much of a reason.”

“I didn’t have much choice, now did I?”

“No, I guess not. I’m not much of a talker, especially about myself. But in view of . . . well, what I plan—concerning you—I think it only fair that I tell you a few things.”

“Concerning me? What do you mean?”

Ignoring her questions, John began: “I’m thirty years old. I come from good stock. My father and mother are well respected in both Arkansas and New Mexico Territory. My father refused to take sides during the war, and my brother and I shared his beliefs. On my ranch in New Mexico Territory near what’s known as Elk Mountain, I run five hundred head of cattle and almost that many head of horses. My men and I break them for the army.”

John had talked rapidly, as if he wished to get the ordeal over with, but now he slowed as he began to describe his home.

“The ranch buildings sit on the long, gentle, easterly slope of a wide shallow valley. A clear spring-fed stream flows near by. Peachleaf willows and cottonwoods border the stream. Also nearby are tall lily plants called yucca. Soap is made from the yucca roots. To the south and west of the valley is a sweeping view of grassy plains and in the distance the Continental Divide.

“My house, or ‘hacienda’ as the Spanish call it, is built of stone and adobe in the shape of a U. The walls are two feet thick, the roof flat. It’s warm in the winter and cool in the summer. The center of the U is a courtyard; it has a deep well and is shaded by pinon trees.”

John grew silent and seconds passed.

“It sounds lovely,” Addie said, to fill the void.

“Most of the rooms are empty,” he said softly. “There are no children playing in the courtyard. A Mexican couple lives there while I’m away, and my father rides over once in a while to keep an eye on things.”

Silence.

Addie glanced at him. He was looking straight ahead, his elbows resting on his thighs, the reins held loosely in his hands.

“Do you know what I’m leading up to, Addie?” When she didn’t answer, he said: “I’m asking you to come with me to New Mexico, live in my house, fill those rooms with children. You need someone to protect you. I need someone to share my home.”

Addie was stunned. She couldn’t have spoken if her life depended on it. The silence between them lengthened. He was obviously waiting for her reaction. Addie cleared her throat. She felt the intensity of his gaze focused on her and suddenly grew quite warm and breathless.

“I had hoped, Addie, that you might consider a liaison between us as beneficial.”

His cold, impersonal words unlocked her mind and jarred her back to reality. Determinedly, she raised her chin, looked him in the eye and spoke coolly.

“Are you suggesting an indecent liaison?”

“Not unless you consider marriage to me indecent,” he said with the same coolness in his tone.

“Why would you even consider marriage to a woman you don’t know? Especially me, with three children and a dear friend who will have a home with me for as long as she wants.”

He answered her question with one of his own.

“Would you consider traveling almost a thousand miles across Indian Territory to live with me on my ranch without marriage?”

“Of course not! What do you think I am? A . . . trollop?”

“If I thought that, I’d not have asked you to take my name.” His tone was firm and decisive. The tension between them intensified.

Addie swallowed bravely and looked him in the eye. “Mr. Tallman, I am honored . . . I guess, that you consider me a candidate to be your life’s companion. I must, however, refuse your proposal. As soon as we reach our destination, you must feel free to go your own way. You have more than fulfilled your gentlemanly duties.”

When John laughed, Addie’s mouth snapped shut and a flush covered her face.

“I’m glad you find my decision so . . . entertaining.”

When he said nothing, she turned to look at him. A broad grin splashed across his face. He let his gaze drift over her smooth forehead, the curve of her brows, her sweet rosy cheeks. When his eyes focused on her lips, she parted them and drew in a quivering breath.

“You’re a prize, Addie. So prim and proper, yet when you get your dander up, it’s as if you were bred back to a wildcat.”

“That’s a compliment?”

“I meant it as one. Let me set you straight about a few things. I don’t consider myself a
gentleman.
I didn’t help you because it was the
gentlemanly
thing to do. I was brought up in a hard land that breeds hard men and was taught to use my instincts. I knew the instant I saw you in the store that you were a woman with high moral standards. I respect women and children and despise cowards and bullies. That’s all there is to it.”

No words came to Addie’s mind. She was still reeling from his proposal of marriage.

“Well, what do you say? I’ve already told you more about myself than I’ve ever told another woman. There it is, take it or leave it.”

“I’ll leave it, but thank you very much.”

“You’ve not only yourself to consider,” John went on as if she hadn’t spoken—“but the children and Trisha. There is a deep-seated desire for revenge in hill people. That’s the reason for so many feuds among them. I don’t doubt that the Renshaws will make it their primary aim in life to avenge what was done to a Renshaw. I can leave you in Fort Smith, a mere two-day ride from Freepoint, where the Renshaws will find you in less than a week; or I can take you with me out through the territories to New Mexico, where you and the children will have not only my protection but that of my men. The choice is yours.”

“I already told you—”

“Then consider Colin and Jane Ann. Renshaw filed to adopt Colin. That crazy hill preacher thinks you’re unfit to raise Dillon.”

“Oh, my goodness. Every time I think of that, I feel like I’ll shatter into a million pieces.”

“Are you still grieving for Kirby Hyde?”

There was a moment of astonished silence; then: “No!”

“Did you love him?”

“No! Er . . . yes! It’s none of your business.”

“Tell me about you and Kirby.”

“There’s nothing to tell. I married him; he went to war and didn’t return.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“Hummm . . .”

There was a long silence between them after that. Both were wrapped in their own thoughts. The air grew cool. Addie knelt on the seat and spread a cover over the children sleeping on the mattress. When she sat down again, she pulled her apron up to cover her arms and locked her eyes on the outline of the wagon ahead.

In her mind she replayed the events of the day, from early morning to the last word uttered by the man sitting beside her. After she had explored every possibility for preserving her independence and safeguarding her family, she could come to only one conclusion. The four people who depended on her were her first concern. To keep them safe, she would sacrifice her dream of meeting a man who would love her for herself alone.

Having made her decision, she tried one last time to retain some control of their future.

“Mr. Tallman, I will go with you and work as a housekeeper in your home—”

“Addie, that isn’t what I had in mind. I can hire someone to cook and clean.”

“But if we are wed, and later you should meet someone else, you might be sorry you’re tied to me.”