The Gentle Rebel (2 page)

He looked down on her, thinking not for the first time what an attractive girl she was. She was tall, and Kelly guessed that her five feet eight inches came from her mother’s side, for her father had been slight—only a little over five six at best. She was no lightweight, and her transformation from childhood to womanhood was obvious—her blossoming figure was revealed by the simple gray gown she wore. Her shoulders were square, her arms rounded and strong. She had very black hair, thick and slightly curly. Her eyebrows, thick and dark, arched over eyes so dark that the pupils were difficult to see—eyes wide and almond shaped with long curling lashes. Her nose was straight and her rather square face and firm chin announced more than a hint of stubbornness.

She looks well enough,
Kelly thought, but after they had talked of the map, settled the details of the price, he ventured to ask, “Now, Julie, tell me what’s bothering you.”

She looked startled; then a flush touched her cheeks. “Why—Rev. Kelly . . . !” Actually she had asked for this visit to try to tell him of her desperation, but now that he stood there, she could not force herself to say it.

“You know, Julie, I promised your father on his deathbed that I’d take care of you. As a matter of fact, if it weren’t for your uncle, my wife and I would have had you come to live with us. We talked about it.”

“Oh, could I do that, Reverend?” she asked quickly. Her eyes pleaded with him as she said nervously, “I’d do all the work! And I’m a very good cook, you know!”

Her quick response caught Kelly off guard, and looking
into her face, he wished he had not mentioned the matter. “Why, my dear, we would love it—but Mr. Sampson is not at all sympathetic to the idea.”

“You talked to him?”

“Why, yes, I did. It was only a few days after the funeral. I told him that it might be better for you to stay with us, but—”

“He said he wanted to keep me, didn’t he?”

Aaron Sampson had said much more than that, Rev. Kelly remembered grimly. The burly man had cursed, his beefy face red, ending up by saying, “You preachers is all alike—out for all you can get! That milksop of a brother of mine, you pulled the wool over his eyes, but you don’t get nothing off me, see? The girl stays here, and I’ve got the law on my side!”

Kelly’s pale, thin face grew red at the memory of how the big man had practically thrown him out of the house, sending him out the door with a shove. “I’m afraid there’s little hope that your uncle would permit you to come here, Julie,” he said regretfully.

“I—I’m afraid of him, Rev. Kelly!”

“Afraid of him? Has he hurt you, Julie?”

“N-no.”

“Mistreated you, has he?”

Her face burned, and she said in a whisper, “He—he won’t leave me alone!”

Kelly felt a quick thrill shoot along his nerves—half anger and half fear. There was no mistaking the girl’s meaning, but he stood there feeling impotent, having no clue as to how he could help her.
Her father was a fool!
he thought angrily.

Silas Sampson had been a good man, but weak in many ways, Kelly recalled. His wife had died when Julie was only six, and he had never remarried. Some had thought it wonderful the way he had let his daughter fill the place of a wife, but Kelly had thought it abominable, seeing that the child had been robbed of much that all children ought to know. But to be fair, he would have to admit that Silas had been a loving father; nothing had been too good for his Julie!

A year ago, he had fallen ill, very ill, and as his condition worsened, he became almost frantic. Kelly remembered well his visits, when the sick man had cried out, “I’m not afraid to die—but what will happen to my girl when I’m gone?”

The thought had tormented him, and nothing the minister or anyone else could say gave him any peace. Finally, he had surprised them all with a solution. He had sent for Rev. Kelly, and with fever glazing his eyes, he had said, “I—I have one relative, Reverend—a younger brother. We’ve not been close—in fact, Aaron and I haven’t spoken in many years. But now I must call on him! He’s all I have left!”

It had been, in Rev. Kelly’s judgment, a bad decision. When Aaron Sampson had come to Philadelphia to live with his brother, he had been so unlike the frail cartographer that it was difficult for Kelly to believe they were related. Aaron was overbearing, arrogant, crude—in every respect the opposite of Silas. He had moved in, taken over the affairs of the business, and, with unbelievable callousness, waited for his only brother to die. Indeed, by the time Julie’s father had slipped away, Aaron Sampson was spreading his elbows wide on the board.

Now looking down into Julie’s pale face, Kelly was appalled. He knew only too well the power of men over women in the courts. No girl of Julie’s age would have a chance against a full-grown man like Aaron Sampson. And the minister knew for a fact, having been told by that babbling fool of a lawyer, Will Spelling, that Julie’s father had given Aaron Sampson everything! Nothing for the daughter.
The man was a fool!
Kelly thought again, but he only said gently, “Try not to worry, child. God is not unaware of our problems. I’ll have another talk with your uncle.”

“Please try to get him to let me come here!” Julie whispered, and the fear in her eyes was a living thing as he nodded.

After she left, Kelly walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table with his wife. She was a large woman, as thick as he was thin, a condition that gave rise to some ribald talk from
the cruder elements of the town. But she was wise and had lived long enough with the tall preacher to know his thoughts. “You’re worried about Julie, aren’t you, Zachariah?”

He picked up the glass of cider she placed before him, tasted it, then set it down. “That man is after her, Bess!”

She stared at him, her lips growing white with pressure. “What will you do?”

He suddenly smote the table with his fist and shouted, “Nothing! Not a blasted thing!” Then he stared at her with a hopeless anger in his blue eyes, adding in a whisper, “There’s not one blessed thing anyone can do, Bess!” He rose to his feet, and there was misery in every line of his tall body, for he was a true shepherd, and he loved this girl. The thought of Aaron Sampson’s gross figure drew his lips together into a grimace, and he said bitterly, “The only hope—and it’s a foul thought—is that he’ll marry the poor child!” Then he left the kitchen, and went to the church, praying long—partly for the child and partly for himself, for forgiveness. For he was filled with a raging hatred for Sampson, and he well knew that until
that
changed, he could pray for nothing else.

Business was booming, and for the next month Julie was kept so busy (as was her uncle) that her fears subsided. Her father had trained her, and although it had been necessary to hire an assistant to fill the gap her father had left, the shop had prospered. Perhaps it was the constant talk of war with England that created a demand for maps, but whatever the cause, Julie had worked long days and many nights to keep up with the orders.

The new cartographer was a taciturn man named Isaiah Johnson. He was a good workman, but a heavy drinker, so he brought no levity into the shop. Aaron knew a little of the work, and was determined to learn more, and this was, perhaps, the reason why he had left Julie more or less alone. For all his crudeness, he was no fool; a shrewd man, he realized that the girl was profitable.

More to the point, he had gone into details with Will Spelling, and discovered that his grip on the property was not as firm as he had thought.

“Your name is on the paper,” Spelling had pointed out, “but so is Julie’s. In law, you and Julie are more or less partners—with you being the junior partner.” The lawyer was a small man with close-set eyes, a catfish mouth, and no scruples. He smiled now, adding, “That’s the way your brother wanted it, Aaron.”

“Junior partner?” the huge man snorted, a wicked light in his small eyes. “Well, well—junior partner, is it? Well, there’s a way around that!”

“I’m sure you’ve thought of it,” Spelling said with a small smile. “And the girl’s a likely looking filly!”

“Aye! And I think she’ll make a better wife than a senior partner to me! Yes, indeed, Lawyer Spelling—I think we’ll be needing to do a little more of your blasted paper work soon!”

It was nearly midnight when Julie made her way wearily up the steps, her fingers stained with ink and her eyes burning with fatigue. She undressed and washed, and had just donned her heavy nightgown when the door opened suddenly.

“Julie—we’ve got a little talking to do!”

Sampson stood there filling the doorway, and Julie’s heart leaped with fear as she saw the cruel smile on his thick lips. Quickly she reached for the robe that lay on her bed, but as large as he was, Aaron moved quickly. He stepped forward, caught her by the arm, and the power of his hand was awesome.

“Please—” She swallowed and could only whisper, “Let me go, please—we’ll talk in the morning.”

He said nothing, but his grip on her arm tightened, and then his eyes glittered. His eyes ran over her, and she struggled vainly to pull away. “You ain’t a baby, Julie,” he said thickly. “You’re a full-growed woman!”

Her ears were ringing, and the rank smell of the man sickened her. There was no one in the house; even if she screamed,
no one could hear, and if anyone did, it was unlikely they would come. She stood there trembling and trying to break his grip, but it was hopeless.

He suddenly pulled her closer, putting his massive arms around her, and said, “You need a husband, Julie! And I’m him!”

“No!”

“I say you’re going to marry me, girl, and don’t make no mistake! The law says I’m your guardian—but we can’t live here together alone—why, it wouldn’t be decent!”

He leered down at her, grinning at the irony in his own words. “I’ll leave!” she cried out. “I’ll give up my share of the shop. I’ll go live with the minister!”

“No, you’ll marry me, Julie, and that’s final!” Sampson drew her closer and attempted to speak more lightly. “Why, I know you’re young, Julie, and I reckon you’re afraid of men—seeing you ain’t never had no fellows, that’d be natural. But I aim to treat you right—and Silas, he made me promise to do it.”

“No!” Julie tried to pull away, but his arms held her in a powerful vise. “Father never said that!”

“Sure he did!” Aaron laughed, then pulled her face up and kissed her. “That’s just a sample, Julie,” he said. “I’ll have a talk with that preacher tomorrow. Don’t think we ought to put this thing off. You don’t need no big wedding. Just have the parson come in tomorrow and do the job—or if he won’t, I reckon I can find one who will!”

He laughed down at her horror-stricken face, kissed her again, then released her so abruptly that she nearly fell. “You get a good night’s sleep now. I want you rested up, ’cause tomorrow you’ll have a husband to keep happy!”

The door slammed, and in the silence Julie stood there, tears running down her face. She listened as his footsteps faded, then his door slammed. More than anything she wanted to fall across the bed and weep, but she knew that would be futile.

Finally, she went to the bed, knelt down, and for a long time she was still. The room was cold and quiet, and there was no sound at all except for a muffled word now and then as she prayed. Thirty minutes passed, then an hour. At last the clock in the hall struck one—a ghostly tone in the silence of the night, a round, mellow tone that seemed to touch her, for she suddenly raised her head, tears making crystal tracks down her cheeks.

But there was no fear in her dark eyes, and she slowly got to her feet and stood staring out the window into the darkness. The snow on the rooftops had turned to silver through the alchemy of moonlight, and there was not a soul stirring on the street.

Julie said, “Amen!” and then she knelt again, this time to pull a small traveling bag from underneath her bed. Opening it, she began to throw her clothes into it, her face set like flint. When the valise was packed, she paused, then picked up the Bible from the desk, placed it gently on the top of the clothes, shut the case and fastened it.

At last she walked to the door, pulled it open firmly, and without a backward glance, passed through the dark hall and out of the shop into the blackness of the night.

CHAPTER TWO

RUNAWAY

Julie climbed down from the Conestoga wagon and, reaching up, took her small bag from the muscular hand of Matthew Perkins. The big man said as he passed it along, “You better think about going on with us, missy. Be right glad to have you.”

“Do come!” his wife Ruth urged. She was a worn, middle-aged woman with still a few remnants of beauty, and she added a smile as she leaned over her husband to make a final plea to Julie. “You’re all alone, and we’d be proud to share our home with you.”

Julie looked up and for a moment was tempted, but quickly decided that their home was too close to Philadelphia. They had picked her up as she trudged along in the snow three days earlier, and they were such plain, simple people it had never occurred to them to doubt her story. She had told them that she was an orphan who was going to New York to work and live with an aunt. The lie had pained her, but she finally had said to herself, “It’s
almost
the truth—I
am
going to live with an aunt.”

She had left home with one thin fragment of a plan. Her mother’s sister lived in Portsmouth, on the southern coast of England. The sisters had been close, and even though Julie’s mother had been dead for years, Mrs. Collingwood had written at rare intervals, expressing some interest in her niece. Silas had spoken at times of a visit, but nothing had ever come of it. As Julie had prayed, the thought had come to
her, and she conceived the idea of going to New York, there booking passage to flee the Colonies. She knew that Aaron would have the law looking for her, and the New World was a small place in which to hide—but England!

So she stood there in the snow with the Perkinses, looking very young. But there was a firmness in her voice as she shook her head and said, “I’m so grateful to you both, but—my aunt would be very disappointed if I didn’t come! God bless you both!”