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Authors: Annie Lash

Dorothy Garlock (15 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock
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“You’ll come now, hear? Hit’s a pity it takes a buryin’ fer us to bunch up, eat, ’n have us a good palaver. What air ya a waitin’ fer, Silas? Landalivin’! I thought ya said we had to be a scutterin’ on home. Hit’s goin’ to be near dark if’n ya don’t get a move on.”

“Thank you, Biedy, for all you’ve done to . . . make the day easier.” Annie Lash held her hand out, and Biedy grasped it and gave her a brief hug.

“Why I didn’t do nothin’ a’tall, girl. Nothin’ any neighbor wouldn’t a done. You make them men hitch up the wagon, Callie, ’n haul ya over fer the day. Ya got the garden in, ain’t ya?”

“It’s mostly in. I’m waiting for the dark of the moon so I can plant potatoes.”

“Hit’s the way to do it. Plant ’em when the moon is full ’n all ya get is runts. I did it oncet a thinkin’ the moon didn’t know what I was a doin’ down here, ’n we was eatin’ them blasted turnips all winter! Watch what yore a doin’, Silas. You’ll dirty up my good dress.”

Silas climbed up to sit beside his wife and slapped the reins. The mules moved. “Giddap, thar. We can’t be a waitin’ fer Biedy to stop talkin’, or we’d be standin’ here this time tomorry. Bye, folks.”

“Why, Silas Cornick! What a thing to say! Bye, Annie Lash. Bye, Callie. Amos, did I tell ya that Walter’s got a whistle fer ya? Bye, Abe. Oh, I ne’er did get to hold that little dumplin’. We’ll be back—” Her voice was lost in the jingle of harnesses and the rumble of the wagon wheels.

Annie Lash watched the wagon leave with regret. Biedy Cornick had a way of filling a void, of taking over so that all a person had to do was respond once in a while. Now Annie would have to get her thoughts together and figure out what she was going to do.

Callie had been a surprise. Although she had been shy, she’d been friendly and helpful, too. The resentment that Annie Lash had felt in the air when she first arrived seemed to have disappeared. However, she wasn’t needed here as Jeff Merrick had led her to believe. She had to make her thoughts known to him. She couldn’t stay here on sufferance when Callie seemed to be perfectly able to cope. Had he intended Annie Lash to be a servant? If so, why hadn’t he said so?

Not being one to dawdle once her mind was made up, she turned and headed straight to where Jeff stood beside Will and Light. His eyes caught hers as she approached and she looked at him squarely before shifting her eyes first to Light and then to Will. She spoke to him.

“Thank you for what you did for Zan,” she said, her words not stressed by any emotion. “Zan would have liked it, if he knew that it was you who did it for him.”

“No thanky needed, ma’am. Zan was one of the first real men I knowed. Guess Jeff told ya ’bout us meetin’ up with him on the Trace?” Will took his hat off when he spoke to her.

“Yes. Zan would have enjoyed visiting with you about old times.” She smiled wanly before addressing the other man. “Mr. Light, ah . . . Mr. Lightbody—”

“Call me Light,
mademoiselle.
I have become used to the name.”

She held out her hand and he gripped it strongly. “Thank you, Light. Zan was happy these last few days—happier than I had ever known him to be.”

“He was a man I could have learned much from. I was glad to call him friend.”

“And he you.” She tilted her head and looked up at Jeff. “I would like a private word with you.”

If he was surprised by her request he didn’t show it. He was watching her, amazed at how well she was holding together despite all she’d been through. Zan was right, he thought. His little gal was no rattlehead. He reached out and cupped her elbow with his hand and they moved away from the other men.

“I was expecting it.”

The sun, a crimson, glowing orb, had disappeared long ago behind the towering trees in the west and the air had turned cooler. After going a short distance, Jeff released her elbow and Annie Lash wrapped her shawl closely about her shoulders. He didn’t stop walking until they were among the trees, out of sight of the house. He leaned against a large oak, crossed his arms over his chest, and surveyed her with his eyes. He started at the top of her head and took in every feature of her face before moving down her body and then up to her throat and breast. His eyes lingered there long moments before moving to her face again.

She shifted, uncomfortable under his intense gaze. “Why did you lie to me?” she demanded. “You said Callie was sick and couldn’t care for her children. You brought me here under false pretense!”

“Yes, I did,” he admitted. “I wanted to get you out of Saint Louis before some rejected suitor put a knife in Zan.”

“Oh . . .” She looked at him long and hard. She knew he regretted the term he’d used and she didn’t want to taunt him with the obvious. “If that was the case, why didn’t you say so?”

He lifted his shoulders in a gesture she had come to recognize as characteristic of him when he considered another’s opinion unworthy of words. It angered her.

“You brought me out here to help a woman who doesn’t want or need my help and I lost Zan in the process. I’ll not stay here as extra baggage. I’ll not be thrust upon your household because there’s nowhere else for me to go!” She spaced each of the words to give emphasis to her statement.

“Extra baggage? Anyone who can do a day’s work on a homestead is not extra baggage. You saw how thin and run down Callie is. Her lot hasn’t been easy. She was here alone when the baby came. Henry sent Jute to fetch Biedy or she’d have died with only Henry and little Amos to hold her hand. I thought I saw a way to make things easier for her and to pay Zan for past favors.”

She turned her face toward him and looked at him quietly. The silence stretched between them like a taut thread. She drew in a ragged breath. “If what you say is true, I can understand why you did it,” she admitted reluctantly. “But Zan is gone and Callie has had the running of the house for so long it would be difficult for her to let go even a part of it to a hired girl.”

“Did she say that?”

“No. But I know how I’d feel in her place.”

He waited for her to continue. When she did not, he asked, “How would you feel?”

“I’d probably resent it. I wouldn’t want another woman in my house.” She dipped her head and plucked at her skirt. “If Zan had lived I was going to ask him to take out a homestead with me.” She looked up and her clear eyes met his.

“He’d have done it, even if he didn’t want to. You meant the world to him.”

“Can a woman take out a claim for herself?” The question was out. What now? she wondered in agonizing silence.

He shook his head, but he didn’t laugh as she expected him to do. “I’ve never heard of it. I don’t know if the law would stand. It’s hardly a thing a woman would do, or
could
do alone. You’ve got to raise a crop and build some kind of a place on the land, and you’ve got to live on it.”

“I could do it,” Annie Lash said simply.

He shook his head. Now, he laughed. “I don’t know but what you could, if you set your mind to it. But there’s no need even if the law would allow it. You’ve got me to take care of you. You can help me improve on this place. I’ve only started to do all I’ve planned to do.”

“I have some money—almost a hundred dollars. And Zan . . . would want me to have whatever he left. It’s enough for a start,” she said stubbornly.

“Get it out of your mind, Annie Lash,” he said firmly. “If necessary I’ll build another cabin if you don’t like being in the house with Callie.” His hands snaked out and grasped her shoulders.

“I don’t want you to build me anything! I want my own place!” she snapped. Her eyes became two bright, angry stars.

“I wouldn’t be building it for
you!
I’d build it for Callie and the boys. My
wife
stays in
my
house.” His words wiped out her thoughts completely.

“You’re . . . out of your mind!” she snapped, appalled at the nerve of the man. “I’m not marrying you!”

“Are you going to live with me in sin?” His rugged, intense face was close to hers and she could see his lips twitch.
He was laughing at her!

She gasped, her pulse racing, then chills caused her legs to shake. He had not said one word about love, about wanting or needing only her.

“What I said on the raft still holds,” she said cuttingly. “I’ll not marry in order to have a roof over my head. That’s my final word on it!”

“Things have changed since then. What choices do you have? Oh, I don’t doubt that Biedy would take you in. She’d like nothing more than to match you up with Isaac. He’s old enough to make babies and Biedy would delight in having grandchildren.”

“You’re disgusting!” she declared staunchly. Her hands went instinctively to his chest to push him away from her. “I can go back to Saint Louis and take a boat down to New Orleans and get a job as seamstress or caring for children.”

“There’s plenty of darkies for those jobs. And don’t count on Will or Light to help you. They already know my plans for you.”

His cool taunts struck sparks against the temper she was so certain she could control. The very fact that he could ignite it so easily was added fuel to the blaze.

“You are lower than I thought!”

“Why are you so stubborn?” His brows drew together as he studied her mutinous face. “Do you dislike me so much? I could swear you didn’t dislike me when I lifted you down on the raft from the bank. What have I done to change your opinion of me?”

Through the fog of her anger she realized the look in his dark eyes reflected a new and perhaps more dangerous element. A very male hunger stirred there now, and she was horrified to discover something very female in her was both attracted and repelled by that look and the closeness of his body as he pulled her toward him. Wordlessly, she stared up at him. With a cool air of possessiveness that defied her to protest, he slid his hands from her arms down to encircle her waist. She sucked in her breath, refusing to give him the satisfaction of closing her eyes against the expression of victory on his face. She must not let him have full control of the situation, she realized dimly. She must maintain her dignity, keep her pride intact.

“You’re not the kind of man I want to spend the rest of my life with, Mr. Merrick.” She spoke slowly and unemotionally. “Is that so hard for you to understand? I want more out of life than a house to tend and food to eat. I want more than being a vessel to satisfy a man’s lust. I want more than what Callie got when she married your brother. The man I marry will have to want the same things that I want, and that is to build something permanent together. When I meet him, I’ll know him, and I’ll put all my thoughts, my toil, my smiles, my pain, and . . . my love into my family.” In spite of all she did, she couldn’t keep the tears from welling in her eyes. “I’ll not stand on the fringe of a man’s life and hunger for something I know can be real and beautiful. I want to love and be loved. I want my man to be the other part of myself. I want us to be truly one in every sense of the word. I’m sure this is too complicated for a man of your sensibilities to grasp. I’m also determined to hold out for what I want or have nothing at all.”

She was completely wrung out by the time she finished and would have liked nothing better than to lay her head on his chest and cry. She held back the sobs, but there was nothing she could do about the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

She felt the deep breath that shook his body. His hands at her waist tightened and he drew her to him. A gentle hand on her head brought it to his shoulder and the dam that had surrounded her emotions broke. She cried long, low, agonizing sobs that rose from the center of all the pain that had come from the loss of her pa and the cabin on the Bank, the killing of the man on the trail, and Zan. Gentle arms held her while the grinding sobs wrenched her slight body. Gentle hands smoothed the tangled hair from her white face as she clung to him. Finally, the racking shudders ceased and she leaned against him, utterly exhausted.

Jeff held her, wondering about the depth of this startling, lovely creature that had come to him like a gift from heaven. He felt a stirring of excitement and hope that he might possess what she sought. His chest warmed from the quickening of his heart, and he questioned himself silently. Could he live up to her expectations? Would she ever voluntarily choose him to be her life’s partner? He’d been wrong. He’d been brash, too sure of himself, too uncaring of her feelings. Good God! He’d been dumb, stupid and blind! How could he make her understand?

“Annie Lash, I don’t know much about women or what they want. I’ve been too busy trying to stay alive and carve out a place for myself here in this wilderness. Callie and the wives of a couple of friends of mine who have places up on the big river are all the decent women I’ve had much to do with. I’d like for you to meet them sometime. Rachel is married to my friend Fain MacCartney.” He smiled suddenly. “You remind me of Berry Witcher. She’s the spunkiest woman I ever knew until I met you. She and Simon live up on the river, north of where the Missouri flows into the Mississippi. When I saw you, I knew you were a decent woman, like Rachel and Berry, and I guess I wanted to get you out of Saint Louis as much for your sake as for Zan’s. I’m sorry for what I did and said that night on the raft. I don’t know what came
over me.”

Rough fingers wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’ll not bother you about marrying me. Stay and help Callie with the work. You’ll more than pay your way. After awhile, if you’re still of a mind to, I’ll find a way to get you to New Orleans and help you find a means of staying there. I’ll not be doing it for Zan, but for you.”

His mouth was close to the top of her head and she could feel his breath stir her hair. Slow, hesitant fingers lifted her chin and his dark eyes looked down into hers soberly and intently: hers were shimmering with the moistness of her tears.

“I’m a rough, hard man, Annie Lash. The softness was crushed out of me a long time ago.”

Annie Lash felt as if she were adrift on a cloud. The tears had released the tight knot of pain in her heart and euphoria spread throughout her taut body. She felt a wondrous warmth and a rightness to the feel of his arms and his fingers that wiped the tears from her cheeks. She felt no awkwardness about the arms she had wrapped about his hard body, no guilt about the comfort she received from leaning on his strength. His blond head and huge shoulders seem to block out the world. There was a tiredness to his face she hadn’t noticed before. Was that tender regard that she saw in the depth of his eyes? It was almost enough to make her weep again. Her breath bubbled through her parted lips.

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock
2.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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