Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (11 page)

“Humpt!” Juicy snorted. “I knowed that afore he got off’n the horse. Take Colby or young Rain.”

Liberty watched the two men walk over to the porch of the long building. Farr was doing most of the talking, and she imagined he was telling his friend about the massacre. She stood still, looking around her. It was a wonderful, beautiful land. It was good to see an open stretch of sky after so many days in the dense forest. The grass in the meadow behind the station was a rich green, knee-high, and moved gently in the southern breeze. She had noticed that the earth was black when they passed a turned field. Here they would stay, she decided. It had been in the back of her mind since Farr told her about the land beyond the Wabash and the abandoned homestead.

Her only disappointment was that the people she had seen so far were a religious sect that was not friendly to outsiders. There would be no friendship there, but so be it. More people would come. She and Amy had been a long time without friends, they could wait a little longer. She would ask Farr how she could send word to Hammond Perry that she was here, and if he wanted to see her he would come.

Suddenly she noticed Mercy heading across the yard toward Farr on her stubby little legs. The single garment she wore hung on her small body like a rag. Amy had braided her hair and tied the ends with strips torn from the shirt. Her bare little feet were tough, and she seemed to not notice the wood chips she crossed to reach the hardpacked dirt in front of the porch. Suddenly she stopped, squatted down and picked up something from the ground with her chubby fingers.

“No, Mercy!” Liberty dashed to the child and grabbed her hand, but she was too late to keep her from popping her find into her mouth. She looked up at Liberty and smiled broadly, spit dribbling from her chin. Liberty shoved a forefinger into her mouth to extract a gooey mess. “Oh! Ugh, Mercy! Nasty! Nasty!” She slung the child on her hip and hurried to the waterbucket. “Get me a wet rag, Amy.”

“What did she do?”

“She ate some . . . some—”

“Oh! Phew! It looks like chicken doo!”

“It
is
chicken doo! Oh, Lordy!” Liberty poked the rag in the child’s mouth until she gagged. “Don’t put that old nasty stuff in your mouth, Mercy. It’ll make you sick.”

“Ma’am . . .” Daniel tugged on her dress and Liberty looked down into a worried little face. His large, round, brown eyes were pleading. “Don’t whup her. Please! She don’t know no better.”

“For goodness sake! Of course I won’t whup her! She’s just a baby, Daniel. You’ll have to help us watch to see that she doesn’t put such stuff in her mouth. There. I’ve cleaned out as much as I can. Give her a drink of water, Amy.”

“Mercy ate some chicken doo, Mr. Quill.” Amy gave him a slanted look and waited for an answer.

Liberty looked around to see Farr standing nearby. She would have been surprised to know that while he watched her with Mercy, his thoughts rocked to and fro with the futile rhythm of a rocking horse. She was a spunky woman, he thought. But how would she manage out at Shellenberger’s place? Would her father help her plant and tend a field? he wondered. If she decided to go to Vincennes, Farr knew he would take her. But he couldn’t see how he could ask her to take Mercy and the boy with her. She had enough on her plate as it was with her sister and her father.

Farr decided his only alternative was to ask the Sufferites to care for Daniel and Mercy until he could get them upriver to Carrolltown or find homesteaders to take them. Hell! The last thing he wanted to do was to leave them at the mercy of righteous folk who thought it a sin to do anything but work. They had beat the fun and laughter out of their own children, and he hated to think of what they would do to two that were not their own.

Farr waited so long to speak that Liberty became uncomfortable and the color in her cheeks deepened. Feeling ridiculously self-conscious, she looked away.

“I’m going back to get your wagon.”

Her eyes swung back to him quickly. “You can’t. You’ve not had any sleep and you’ve walked all the way.”

“I’ll get a couple hours sleep and by that time my friend Colby Carroll and a young fellow that stays here with us may be back. One of them will go with me. You’ll be all right here with Juicy.”A sudden bright smile spread across his face. “Juicy likes nothing better than good cooking. Likes pretty girls, too,” he said with his eyes on Amy. He laughed when she blushed miserably and avoided his eyes. He reached over and plucked Mercy from Liberty’s arms. “What have you been up to, little wiggle wart? Have you been giving Liberty trouble?” His big hand spread over her stomach and his fingers tickled her. Squeals of happy laughter erupted from the child.

Liberty felt a small hand creep into hers. She looked down to see Daniel gazing with rapt attention at Farr and Mercy. Then she remembered seeing his father’s stern face and hearing his harsh voice shouting at his son. It was no wonder the child was fascinated by the play between the man and the child. There was an unmistakable look of longing in Daniel’s brown eyes. Liberty lifted her eyes to Farr’s and saw that he was looking intently at the boy. He stood Mercy on her feet and squatted down on his heels.

“How old are you, Daniel?”

“Four.” He held out four fingers.

“That old? Then I reckon you’re old enough to look after my pet crow while I go back to get Mrs. Perry’s wagon? He usually hangs out around the barn. Sometimes he flies down and sits on my shoulder. Let’s go see if we can find him.” Farr stood, removed his hat and hung it on a peg above the water bucket. He reached down, lifted Daniel and set him astride his neck. The boy’s smile came quickly, then faded just as fast, as if it was something he shouldn’t do. Farr’s eyes caught and held Liberty’s. He saw the tired lines in her face shift into a smile. “Make yourselves to home. I’ll send him back in a while. I’ll bed down in the barn for a few hours of sleep before I go.”

Liberty felt hot tears behind her eyelids and closed them to trap them there. Farrway Quill, frontiersman, had seen the loneliness in the small boy’s face and had responded. She swallowed the assortment of lumps in her throat, opened her eyes, and stared hard at his back as he walked away with the small boy perched on his shoulders.

*  *  *

The large square room attached to the long building was gloomy, Liberty observed from the doorway. It smelled of ashes, tobacco and hides. There was a table and stools for sitting, beds in three of the corners, and a cobblestone fireplace in the fourth. The beds were pole beds, up off the floor and covered with patchwork quilts. The nicest thing in the room was a walnut cupboard, whittled and carved and put together with pegs. It had double doors at the top and three deep drawers at the bottom.

“Come right on in.” The old man stood in the doorway going into the long building. His gravelly voice boomed in the silence. “Make yoreselves to home. If’n the younguns is hungry, stir ’em up some vittles.”

“Thank you. We have cornmeal—”

“Ain’t no call to be a usin’ it. I’ll fetch ya in a bait a deer meat from the smokehouse. There be milk ’n butter in the root cellar. I got to fetch clabber milk anyways to send down to Mr. Washington. Colby brung us in some wheat flour, but ain’t none of us no hand at makin’ up bread.” He tilted his head to one side, his blue eyes twinkled, and the whiskers around his mouth shifted so that Liberty knew he was smiling.

“I’ll make bread, but it’ll take some time.”

“We can wait. Times me ’n Farr’d give a prime pelt fer a hunk a good wheat bread.”

“How far is the Shellenberger place from here, Mr. Juicy?” Liberty reached to catch Mercy’s hand before she pulled a wooden trencher off the table.

“Ain’t no need to be puttin’ mister to my name, Mrs. Perry. I be jist Juicy to one ’n all.”

The old man’s sharp eyes gleamed as he watched her, his smile wide across his whiskered face.

“Then don’t be putting a mistress to my name, Juicy. I’m just Liberty, or Libby, if you prefer.” There was a friendly sparkle in her eyes.

Juicy laughed, and turning, poked at the cookfire with a long iron poker before be spoke.

“The Shellenberger place ain’t but down the road a piece. Good stout cabin is what it is. Hit was all Shellenberger knowed how to do, I reckon. Good builder, but he warn’t no hand a’tall puttin’ in a crop.”

“Is the cabin on the road where people pass?”

“If’n they be on the river or the road they go by if’n they be aimin’ fer Vincennes or Shawneetown.”

“It’s near the river then?”

“Right slap dab on, but on a rise. Ain’t much risk of gettin’ flooded out.”

Liberty brushed a strand of hair back off her forehead, then slowly turned her face toward the open doorway and looked out into the bright sunlight. Her mind was busy sorting out the sudden flood of ideas that had flowed into it while talking to the old man.

“I reckon the younguns is hungry,” Juicy said. “I’ll fetch the milk ’n meat. Got taters, too, tho’ they be sprouted some.”

“Sprouted? Shouldn’t they be planted by now?”

“I ain’t much hand at puttin’ in a patch. We get sich from them folks ya passed back yonder, or from folks that trade fer salt ’n sich,” he said and was gone.

He returned with a large crock cradled in one arm and a small one in the other. He saw Liberty eyeing the fly floating on the top of the milk.

“I allus forget ta cover it. Now Farr, he be more persnickety,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Him ’n that boy youngun is sleepin’ in the barn. The little feller is curled up right by him like a pup to his ma.” He hooked a stool from beneath the table and sat down. Mercy pulled her hand from Amy’s and went toward him. “I allus did like purty little gal younguns.” Juicy lifted her and sat her down on his knee. The child pulled on his whiskers and his roar of laughter filled the room. “Ya be a lively one, ya little scutter.”

*  *  *

After the noon meal Liberty pushed the pot containing what was left of the deer meat and potatoes to the back of the hearth to keep warm for Farr and Daniel and made up a batch of wheat bread. Elija sat on a bench just outside the door, and she could hear him telling Juicy about Middlecrossing, the wonderful life they’d had there, and the hardships he’d endured on the long journey to the Wabash.

Liberty gritted her teeth and continued to work. The heat from the fireplace had brought a rosiness to her cheeks and dampness to the curls around her face. As her mind churned with plans, the excitement in her body grew, encompassing her heart and expanding into her soul. Somewhere in her heart she had known all along that she had done the right thing in coming to Quill’s Station. Now she was sure of it.

Amy stuck her head in the door. “Mr. Quill’s coming,” she announced.

Liberty suddenly felt shy. She stood with her back to the doorway, her chest rising with the deep breath she permitted herself to draw. She heard Farr ask Juicy if Colby and Rain had returned, heard Juicy tell him no.

“Something smells mighty good.” His voice was deep and rich and came from a few feet behind her.

Liberty turned. The picture of him standing there with the small boy’s hand in his brought a lump to her throat. The silence went on for a long while before she spoke.

“Are you hungry?” she asked and knew immediately that it was a stupid thing to say. He hadn’t had a meal in two days. “There are meat and potatoes in the pot.”

“I’m hungry enough to eat a bear, but we’d better wash up first, huh, Daniel? I don’t think women like men sitting at the table with dirty faces and hands.” He looked down at the boy with a pretended frown, glanced at Liberty, and the two of them left the doorway.

Liberty had bowls of the steaming stew on the table when they returned. She set a cup of milk beside Daniel’s bowl and tea beside Farr’s. They ate in silence. Both were hungry. Liberty watched and refilled Farr’s bowl without him having to ask.

Daniel’s eyes seldom left Farr’s face. Liberty eyed him sideways with amusement in her eyes. Daniel was completely captivated by the big frontiersman. More than likely it was the first time a man had shown him kindness, Liberty thought, remembering his gruff, bearded father who appeared to be as old or older than Elija. He had had no patience with his young son.

When they were almost finished Liberty filled a mug with tea and sat down at the table. She wanted to talk with Farr alone before he left, and she figured this would be her only chance.

“I want to pay you for going back for my wagon.”

Farr looked up sharply. He was solemn as an owl. “Have I asked for pay?”

“No, but you’ve already done so much for us.”

“Out here people do for each other, Liberty. It’s the only way to survive. If you stay, you’ll have to take help as well as give it when it’s needed.”

“Yes, I can understand that. Juicy said the Shellenberger place isn’t far from here. I’m anxious to see it.”

“A half mile or so. It’s the first place north. There’s some cleared ground—”

“Enough for a big garden and a corn patch?”

“Plenty for that.”

“I want to plant fruit trees and berry bushes. Farr,” she said breathlessly, “what do you think about an inn? Juicy said people going from Vincennes to Shawneetown, either by river or the road, pass by that place. He said sometimes he’d give a prime pelt for a hunk of good wheat bread. I think there may be others who feel the same.”

“Seems to me Juicy’s been saying quite a bit. The Shellenberger cabin isn’t much bigger than this room, although it has a loft.”

“I’ll build an adjoining room for the travelers to sleep in. Pa will have to help. He can plant a corn patch and cut grass for hay. Amy and I will cook.”

“There’ll be a problem about supplies. The nearest mill is at Vincennes.”

“Why don’t you build a water wheel?”

“Why don’t I what?”

“Build a water wheel. Why go all the way to Vincennes when you’ve got the perfect place for a mill?”

He studied her for a long moment and saw the excitement in her eyes. When he spoke again, it was to Daniel.

“Did you get enough?” he asked.

Daniel nodded, his eyes still on Farr’s face.