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Authors: Annie Lash

Dorothy Garlock (33 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock
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Jeff reached out, yanked the gun out of his hand, and slapped him on the side of his face.

“Get yourself together!” he commanded sharply. “Your assassin friend is dead! Go get something to cover him with. Hurry up!”

Jason stumbled away, keeping his eyes away from the gruesome sight on the ground.

A few minutes later, Annie Lash heard the sound of a running horse. She looked up to see Will riding recklessly into the yard. He pulled the animal up so sharply it sat back on its haunches. He jumped from the saddle and ran to where Jeff was covering Hartley’s body with a canvas.

“What the hell happened? I heard a shot.”

“Jason was shooting at Antone.”

“Who is it?” he asked anxiously and lifted the canvas.

“Hartley. He had grabbed Amos and the wolf-dog killed him. Jason thought Antone was in on the plot to kill us.”

“Then ya was right?”

“I was right. Godamighty, Will! It was close. The sonofabitch was going to kill all of them in order to get to me,” Jeff said as if he couldn’t believe it.

“The sonofabitch fuckin’ bastard!” Will cursed. “God, Jeff, if ya hadn’t a got ’em . . .” His words trailed off.

“I didn’t, the wolf-dog did.”

Annie Lash and Callie, unable to bring themselves to go inside the kitchen, sat on the benches under the porch roof. Each held a child in her arms. Callie crooned to Amos, trying to assure him that he was safe. Jason walked restlessly up and down.

Will came around the end of the house. He ignored Jason and went straight to Callie.

“Ya a’right?”

She nodded. “Oh, Will! It was terrible. I was never so scared in all my life. Poor Amos . . . poor baby . . .”

Jeff, with his hand firmly attached to Antone’s arm, spoke from the end of the porch. “Let’s go in and have a cup of tea. I think we deserve one.”

Will took Amos from Callie’s arms and carried him into the house. The thundercloud look on his face dared Jason to comment. He sat down on the bunk with the boy on his lap. Jeff came in pushing Antone ahead of him. The black man hovered near the door as if he were about to flee. His eyes were large and fearful and kept wandering toward Jason.

Annie Lash set out mugs and poured tea, avoiding the pot of fish chowder as if it were the plague.

Jeff stood beside Antone. “We have this man to thank for our lives,” he said. “He made sure that I saw him pour the contents of a bottle Van Buren gave him in the soup.” He waited a moment for them to absorb what he was telling them. “I was sure Van Buren was here to kill me after Annie Lash found the snake in my boot. I was watching for him to make a move, but, my God, I never dreamed he would attempt to kill all of you in order to get me!”

Annie Lash’s face went white. “Oh, Jefferson—why?”

“It’s a long story, sweetheart—one I’ll have to tell you now. First, we’ve got to get rid of this batch of poisoned soup and make sure none of the animals get to it.”

“Suh,” Antone spoke in a shaky voice. “I put rivva water in de chowdah.” He reached inside his shirt and brought out two small bottles. One was empty and one full of a clear liquid. “Mastah say dis make de flavah, but I seed ’em put hit on meat fo ol’ dawg down to Saint Louis. Ol’ dawg fall daid.” He shook his head. “Me doan kill li’l chil’, me doan kill missy.” His eyes rolled toward Annie Lash and he held out the bottle to Jeff.

Jeff took the bottle and looked at it. “He would have killed you when he realized what you’d done.”

“Yas’sah.”

“How long have you been with him?”

“Hartley won him in a poker game last winter,” Jason answered, impatience making itself known in the tone of his voice. Then, as if compelled to say what was on his mind, he blurted, “I don’t understand any of this. Why was he going to kill me, too?”

“Stupid, as usual, Pickett.” Will spoke from the corner of the room where he sat cradling Amos in his arms. “He was working for Aaron Burr. His job was ta keep me’n Jeff from gettin’ to Virginny to testify at the trial. If he’d a killed ever’body here, he was goin’ to try to ambush me, ’n there’d be no witnesses. Ever’body he hired to do his dirty work bungled the job. He had to try ’n do it hisself. Jeff had it figured out after the snake crawled out of his boot.”

“But why was the sonofabitch going to kill
me?
We were going into the keelboat business together!” Jason said with disbelief. He took a square of cloth from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his face.

“Ya bastard!” Will snarled. “Can’t ya think of nothin’ but yore . . . blasted self? What about Callie and the boys? What about Annie Lash?” In his anger, Will stood up. The only thing that kept him from hitting Jason was the child that clung to his neck. “How come ya let that murderin’ shithead get his hands on this here youngun?” he demanded.

Jason started to reply, then changed his mind. Self-preservation was uppermost in his mind. Nothing that had happened here today was going to change his plans, and so he’d be better off if he didn’t antagonize Will Murdock. If the man was willing to fork out the money so he could have Callie and the kids, Jason would damn sure take it and let him have them. Besides, he hadn’t been able to get the girl, Maggie, off his mind. He was going to have her. He’d have money now to take her to New Orleans. His heart began to hammer at the thought.

“Do you know if Van Buren carried Antone’s papers with him?”

Jeff was talking to him, and he pushed thoughts of Maggie to the back of his mind. “I don’t know for sure, but I think so.”

“Well, he’s going to lose him in another poker game.”

“What do you mean, lose him in a poker game? You can’t do that. Hartley’s dead and that nigger’ll go to pay off some of his debts. He owed me, too.” Jason looked sulkily at Antone. “I figure I’ve got as much right to that nigger as you have.”

“You figured wrong, Jason. This
man
is going to be free.”

“But . . . that nigger’s worth a fortune!” Jason sputtered.

“Don’t cross me, Jason!” Jeff shouted, his voice trembling with anger. “This is a man! He’s not a horse or a mule. He’s a man with a brain! He used that brain today and saved our lives at the risk of losing his own. You’ll not make any mention of him when you leave here. Is that understood?”

Jason’s lips curled in a sneer. “Papa was right about you, Jefferson. You’re a fool! You’re a sanctimonious fool and you’ll never have any more than this chicken coop here in the back of nowhere.”

“I feel sorry for you, Jason.” Jeff looked at his brother so steadily that he turned his eyes away.

“What are you going to do about that beast that killed Hartley?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing!” The look on Jeff’s face dared his brother to argue the matter.

Annie Lash watched and listened to what was going on as if she were suspended somewhere in a void, somewhere outside herself. The information Will let drop so casually about him and Jeff stunned her. A fluttering that began in her heart settled in the pit of her stomach and refused to go away, even as she pressed her hands tightly to it.

Jeff hadn’t bothered to tell her he was going to Virginia or when he was going. Virginia seemed half a world away from Missouri. What was she suppose to do while he was gone for a year, or possibly more? Of course, she would stay here and occupy the homestead! He wanted a wife. A wife to give him a son so the Merrick name wouldn’t die when he did.

Annie Lash felt drained, remembering. Jeff had said on the raft that he wanted to leave something behind to show that he had passed through life. He was going to use her as if she were a brood mare to be assured his lineage was continued! Perhaps his seed was already growing in her belly. He had known he was a hunted man and that there was a good chance he’d be killed.

She looked at him with new eyes. He had been very clever in winning her over. Her stomach did a slow turnover and tears of disillusionment filled her eyes.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

An hour after he died, Hartley Van Buren was buried without ceremony of any kind. Henry and Jute dug the grave; Jeff and Will placed the canvas-wrapped body in it. They filled it, marked the spot with a flat board, and went back to the homestead.

Antone sat on a stump in the yard. He was still dazed by the midday events. He had never been thanked for anything before. He’d never had a white man shake his hand. There was no one to say, “Do this, do that.” No one objected if he sat on the stump or went to the creek for a drink of water. He had even eaten his fill of the fish chowder that no one else seemed to want. It was all very confusing.

“Dat boy gwine need he’p to straight his head out,” Henry said sorrowfully. “If’n y’all doan mind, me’n Jute’ll take ’im ’n tell ’im how it gwine to be.”

“That’s a good idea, Henry. It’s going to take him awhile to get used to being free. If anyone can help it’s you and Jute. Tell him that if he wants to stay here and work, he can have wages, not as much as you and Jute to start, but later, when he learns. And he can have a mule and a piece of land to build on.”

“I tell ’im, Masta Jeff. Him do ’pear like a city nigger. But we he’p ’em if’n he wants de he’p.”

“That’s all you can do, Henry. Offer your help and see what happens. The man’s earned the right to make a few decisions for himself.”

Jeff was surprised to learn from Callie that while they were burying Hartley, Jason had saddled his horse and ridden off in the direction of the Cornicks.

“Did he say if he was coming back?”

“He didn’t take his things. Jefferson . . . will he leave tomorrow?” Callie sat in the rocking chair holding Amos. The child was still suffering from his experience with Hartley and refused to leave Callie’s arms, except to go to Will.

“Don’t worry. He’ll be leaving.”

Jeff left Will and Callie together and went across to Annie Lash’s room. She was bending over her trunk. She finished folding a dress, laid it in the trunk, and closed the lid.

“I’d like to look at Zan’s things if you have time to get them,” she said quietly.

“I’ll get them for you later this afternoon. Right now I just want to be with you, hold you.” He came toward her.

Annie Lash stepped away from him and stood behind a straight-backed chair, her hands gripping the top for support.

She broached the subject without hesitation. “I’ve been waiting to discuss some matters with you. This has been a difficult day for all of us, and especially for you. But what I have to say is important to me.”

“Can it wait while I kiss you?”

“No, it can’t wait.” She lifted her head a little higher, straightened her back, and forced herself to look directly at him, keeping her face calm and her feelings well bottled up inside.

Jeff waited. He couldn’t imagine the reason for the resentment she was showing despite all she could do to cover it. His dark eyes searched her face. The moment stretched.

Finally he asked, “What is it you want to say?”

She took a deep breath. “First, I want to hear what you have to say. Are you and Will going to Virginia to testify at the trial of Aaron Burr?”

“Yes, we are. I was going to tell you when—”

She held up her hand. “Stop right there. You were going to tell me, but you didn’t. I think now I was too hasty when I committed myself to marry you, Jefferson. I’ve known you for such a short time. I realize I know nothing about you at all.” He started to speak and she held up her hand again. “Let me finish. You were honest with me when you stated your case the night on the raft. You wanted a wife to produce a son, so a part of you would remain after you were gone. I said no to your . . . ah . . . proposition. Now I believe you changed your tactics. How conniving of you to bring me here, woo me with sweet words, and leave me while you go chasing off to Virginia—that is, if you live so long!” Her rising anger showed in her eyes and in the tone of her voice.

“And you think that what happened to us that night down by the river was a farce? An act on my part?”

“I’ve no wish to recall that night,” she said and hid her hurt with anger. Too many whispered words and stirring kisses had been exchanged in the dark of the night for her to feel comfortable airing the memory. She turned her face away from his probing eyes.

A strange, haunting expression came over Jeff’s face. “I would have told you in time.”

“When? In time for me to wave good-bye to you?”

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry.”

“Of course you don’t understand. You’re not the one who was deceived.”

“I never deceived you. I was trying to keep you from worrying, dammit!”

“That’s good of you, but I’m a grown woman. I intend to share everything with my husband. I think I told you that before.” She breathed deeply, trying to stay calm. “I want to leave here. I’ll stay until Jason goes, because I don’t want to cause more heartache for Callie.”

“And my heartache?”

“You cared nothing for mine. It appears to me that you and Jason have more in common than I at first believed.”

A look of angry frustration ran rampantly across Jeff’s face. “I made my commitment to go to Virginia long before I set eyes on you,” he said angrily. “You’ve no right—”

The spitting anger fairly sizzled in her clear, blue eyes. “But had you intended to share your life with me to the fullest, you would have told me that!” She shook her head and blinked back the tears.

“Let’s forget this senseless quarrel, sweetheart,” he said wearily.

“Senseless?” Her argument burst forth in a torrent of words. “What kind of marriage did you expect ours to be, Jefferson? Was this bond between us so fragile that I was not to even know you were targeted to be killed, that one day soon we would say good-bye and not see each other again for more than a year, if then? I warned you, Jefferson, that I wanted more out of marriage than that.”

His face was stiff with anger. “You have no right to ask me to choose between my duty to my country and you.”

“No, I don’t. I’m not asking you to do that. I’m
telling
you that I have made a choice. You’re not the man I want to be with for the rest of my life. Go to Virginia. I’m not asking you for anything except to help me leave here as soon as Jason goes.”

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock
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