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Authors: Leaving Whiskey Bend

Dorothy Garlock (12 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock
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At the mention of Hallie’s name, the woman’s stony visage seemed to crack. She peered over the stock of the rifle, confusion and indecision written on her face. “What did you do with her?”

“Nothing,” Eli shouted. “I just told you. My uncle and I found her walking sick with worry along the shore of the river. She told us that her friend had fallen into the water and had vanished from sight. Hallie went with my uncle to search upstream and I went the opposite way. I found the girl lying unconscious out on the end of one of those fallen trees. There wasn’t time to get help, so I went in for her myself.”

The woman stared hard at Eli, as if she were a city banker weighing nuggets of gold, trying to figure out what his words were worth. Time seemed to stand still as she stared intently at the man lying on the ground before her, her jaw knotting and unknotting as she thought. Slowly, the rifle barrel lowered, and he sighed with relief. But before he could utter a grateful word, there was a rustle in the bushes, which parted to reveal his uncle and Hallie.

“Pearl!” Hallie shouted and ran forward. “You found her.”

“I didn’t—he did.” She jerked her head toward Eli.

Gathering her younger friend in her arms, Pearl held Hallie tight. “Oh, honey! I didn’t find no sign of Mary and I’d just come back toward the river when I run into this here fella fishin’ her out of the water. I thought for sure that he was one of Chester’s cronies come to spirit her back to Whiskey Bend!”

“I thought I’d lost you both,” Hallie sobbed.

“Thank God, we got Mary back.”

As the two women rushed to where Mary lay on the ground, Hank hurried over to where Eli sat and knelt beside his nephew. Pushing back his hat, he wiped his brow with one wrinkled hand and looked over to where Mary’s body lay. “I see you had better luck lookin’ than we did.” He sighed. “Although I reckon you ain’t none too pleased with what you found.”

As Eli stared at his uncle through the rain, he remembered the cold feel of Mary’s skin when he had first touched her.
Surely, she must be dead!
No one could possibly spend that much time in the Cummings and hope to still be alive.
Still, he wasn’t certain. The thought that the girl could still be alive suddenly raced across his mind, and he found himself scrambling to his feet—sore body be damned—and hurrying over to where she lay upon her back in the grass.

Mary’s eyes were closed, wet hair and dirt plastered to her face; she looked to be sleeping peacefully. Eli Morgan was certainly no doctor, but he’d spent enough time in the army to know how to discover if death had arrived. Placing one hand above the woman’s left breast, he felt past the cold of her blouse and the skin beneath, searching for a sign that her heart still beat.

“I’m afraid there ain’t gonna be much of a point in all of that,” Hank said as he stepped in behind him. “I’ve seen about the same on calves that have been caught unawares in a flood.”

Anger flared for an instant in Eli’s chest and his words were harsh. “Hush that talk! It’s hard enough to hear through all this without you babbling on!”

Hank nodded. “I reckon you’re right about that, son.”

Eli became aware that Hallie and Pearl were beside him. Neither of the women said a word, although both of them were clearly racked by emotion. As he looked up into Hallie’s tear-filled eyes, he was struck by the thought that he never wanted to see her cry again.

“Is she gone?” Hallie asked, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer.

Even as the storm continued to rage and pound the earth all around him, Eli searched for some sign, some faint pulse that would tell him that Mary still lived. All around him was noise; especially loud was the pounding of his own heart. Still, he kept on. He wasn’t going to quit until he was sure that all hope was lost.

He felt something under his fingers.

At first, he worried that he had imagined it, something that he had wanted so badly that it had become real. But as he continued to hold his hand in place, he felt another beat and then, after a long pause, yet another. He couldn’t deny that it was real and that that particular truth had meaning.

Mary was still alive!

Chapter Eleven

A
S THE LONG
night gave way to dawn, exhaustion weighed on Eli as heavily as iron shackles. The last several hours had offered no relief. As soon as they had been certain that Mary was still alive, the women had stripped their friend of her wet clothes and wrapped her in a dry blanket. They’d laid her on some evergreen boughs placed close to the fire that Hank had built in a clearing back from the river under an overhang. There they had waited for the rain to finally let up. When it had, they’d loaded Mary into the wagon and headed for the ranch.

Now Eli pushed the team of horses forward. They had been riding hard for over an hour, froth and foam covering the mounts’ mouths. The storm had moved farther to the north and east. In the distance, a thick band of dark clouds still stretched across the sky, while above them and ahead only a couple of dark bruises remained to mark the passing of nature’s fury.

Eli shivered. He’d tried to gain warmth beside the fire, but it seemed that his best efforts had been for naught. Even with a lukewarm wind blowing, a sign that with the passing of the rain it would be another scorching summer day, a damp chill pervaded his body. Beside him in the wagon seat, Hallie sat huddled in a blanket.

Eli stole a glance into the back of the wagon, even as the wheels pitched and rolled over the rocky ground. Mary lay on a layer of blankets they’d arranged in the wagon bed, Pearl hovered over her, whispering words of care and concern. The girl had improved little since he’d managed to pull her from the swollen river.
It was a miracle she had made it this far.

“Is it much farther?” Hallie asked.

Eli turned to her and took in her face and all its details. Even in the early morning light, he swore that he could see for miles in her eyes, eyes that were clouded with weariness. Her arms hugged the blanket tightly to her. She was small but strong, a woman a man would want to take care of, to cherish and call his own.

“We’re almost there.” Ahead, he could see the familiar signs of the Morgan ranch come into view; the gnarled oak that he and his brothers had spent hours climbing as boys and then the splintered fence post he’d used as a target for his rifle. “The ranch is just up and over the next couple of ridges. We’ll be there soon.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I’m so worried.”

“As soon as we manage to get her settled, I’ll fetch the doctor. He’ll know what to do,” he said, trying to give it a weight of confidence. “But I still don’t reckon just why she’d have gotten into that water.”

“It—it was because of . . . a man,” Hallie explained hesitantly.

“Her fella?”

“He thought himself to be.” She nodded. “But he was not the sort of man to treat her right. He was . . . so cruel to her that she left. We were afraid he might manage to kill her.”

“Couldn’t you have gone to the law?” he asked.

“There isn’t any law to be found in Whiskey Bend,” she answered with a stiff shake of her head. “Not the kind that does right. The sheriff was just about as rotten as any of the lawbreakers.”

As he listened to Hallie’s words, a strange feeling washed over Eli. In that moment, all he wanted was to tell this woman that she and her friends would be safe at the Morgan ranch.
Safe.
The fact that he cared so deeply was a sensation that was entirely new to him. But at the same time, he didn’t know if she would be made welcome. His mother was unpredictable.
Surely she wouldn’t refuse shelter to someone so clearly in need!
Swallowing deeply, he tightened his grip on the reins, snapped the leather straps, and pushed the team forward.

Hank rode his mount beside the wagon, leading Eli’s black and tan. He was the first to sight the Morgan ranch. “I was beginnin’ to wonder if’n I was ever gonna lay eyes on this here ranch ever again,” Hank shouted. “But I guess even this here old fool’s prayers can be answered!”

As they rounded a small bend, the Morgan ranch came into view. Even with all the difficulties Eli had had since his return, this was still his home. Each and every thing that he saw was a welcome sight: the long ranch house, smoke pouring from the chimney; the cattle pens, with the sounds and smells that only heads of steer can bring; the barn, its eastern wall already gleaming wet in the early morning sun.

“Is this where you live?” Hallie asked as her eyes took it all in.

“Yes. This is my family’s ranch,” he replied. “We’ll get Mary into the house and in bed and give her something hot to eat and drink.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Not necessary,” he answered and meant it.

Hank led the way around the cattle pens and brought his mount to a stop in front of the house. Eli positioned the wagon before the steps and hopped down. The two men were lowering the wagon gate when the front door of the ranch house banged open and angry steps thudded across the porch.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Adele Morgan’s voice carried shrilly in the quiet morning. As Eli turned to face his mother, her face mirrored the passed storm: Her graying hair was piled high on her head like the most menacing of clouds, her jaw was set with the rigidity of thunder, and her eyes flashed with the anger of lightning.

“This woman was hurt over at the Cummin—” Eli began.

“I nearly worried myself sick waiting up the entire night for the two of you to return,” Mrs. Morgan interrupted. “Only the Good Lord Himself could have known what was happening to you in that storm. Then, instead of bringing home the missing cattle like you were supposed to do, you show up here with these women! Were you carousing all night?”

“Carousing?” Pearl shouted, her dander rising.

“We don’t have time for this,” Eli said with exasperation. Nodding to Hank, he reached into the wagon and gently pulled the blanket holding Mary’s limp form toward him. He was just beginning to lift her when his mother’s words rang out.

“You will not bring that woman into my house!” she declared loudly.

“You can’t mean that!” Eli barked, the words exploding from his chest.

“I most certainly can! And I do!” his mother answered him pointedly. “I am not the sort of woman that just lets any harlot, split tail, or dance hall whore come traipsing through her front door.”

Eli could not believe the words that were coming from his mother’s lips. He knew her to be a stubborn and difficult woman; when her dander was up, she could be as unmovable as the most obstinate of mules! But this—this was something he would never have thought her capable of.

“Are you callin’ my friend a whore?” Pearl yelled, her face a crimson mask.

“Pearl, please!” Hallie pleaded, stepping in front of the older woman as her friend took a menacing step toward the stairs. She knew Pearl to be willing to resort to violence to protect those that she cared for; the bullet lodged in Chester’s leg was testament to that fact.

“We don’t have to take this shit from her!”

“Yes, we do,” Hallie explained to her friend tearfully, her voice choking with worry and fear. “Mary is badly hurt! All the time she spent in that cold water could be the death of her! It will be if we don’t get her to a warm bed and a doctor to her side. There isn’t time to get her anywhere else—it has to be here!”

“But that old bag ain’t gonna let us in!”

“Adele, please,” Hank interjected, trying to reason with his sister. “What these gals is sayin’ is nothin’ but the out-and-out truth. If’n we don’t get her to warmth quick, it’s gonna be too late—fetchin’ the doc or otherwise. It ain’t the right and Christian thing to keep her out here.”

Adele’s face twisted in anger. “Don’t you dare talk to me about the right way of doing things! I haven’t forgiven you for sending that telegram to Eli and dragging him back into our lives. You never have learned not to meddle in other’s affairs!”

“Be reasonable, Adele,” Hank continued.

“I don’t want to hear your lame excuses!”

“Please, ma’am,” Hallie said, stepping slowly forward. “I realize that this is a great imposition, but my friend is awful sick. She needs care. As soon as she is well enough to travel, we’ll leave.”

“Just stop yourself right there, missy,” Adele interrupted. It certainly would have taken a hard person to not have been moved by Hallie’s words, but Adele’s stony expression never once softened. “You don’t need to worry about imposing upon me because you won’t be! You just hop yourself back up in that wagon and drive it off of this here ranch. This is my land and I say who is going to be on it and who isn’t!”

Eli was stunned into silence. A roaring anger raged through him. It burned so brightly, so fiercely, that it threatened to consume him. At that moment, he didn’t give a good goddamn what his mother’s wishes were. He was taking Mary into the house and that was the end of it! He was just about to make his demands known when the front door opened for a second time.

“What is all this commotion?”

Abe Morgan strolled out onto the porch to stand beside his mother. Even after a few weeks back home, Eli was still in a state of shock at how much his brother resembled the former president. The surprise was especially great now, at this early hour. Abe wore a black, double-breasted suit with buttons that shone brightly; his thumbs were planted firmly in the coat pockets. The thick beard that covered his jawline but not his upper lip was trim and neat. Even the way that he carried himself was formal, presidential.

“What in the hell?” Pearl exclaimed.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to be a bit more cautious with your language, young lady,” Abe reprimanded her. “I come from people who, in their backwoods lives, were prone to speaking with a loose tongue, but I can assure you, it’s certainly not very becoming as you get older. I dare say it’s a habit you should rid yourself of.”

For a long moment, all was silent. The strangeness of what they had seen, of Abe’s sudden appearance, seemed too great for Hallie or Pearl to comprehend, let alone to give voice to their thoughts. In the end, it was Abe who spoke again.

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock
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