Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (43 page)

Palmer ignored Maude and turned to the man beside him. “Lenning minded his own business far as I know. Right well set up too. What’d he be draggin’ off a bond gal fer? ’Pears like he coulda bought her if’n he’d wanted her. It don’t make no sense a’tall.”

“There wasn’t any milk and the Luscomb baby was hungry. That’s what Willa was doing in the barn.” Maude spoke with exaggerated patience as if she were talking to a child. “More meat, Mr. Palmer?” She looked pointedly at the big piece on his plate.

“I don’t recollec’ that I was atalkin’ to ya.”

“Elija, dear,” Maude said with her usual sweet smile, “put more meat in the skillet. If we keep Mr. Palmer’s mouth full he’ll not be able to
blab
so much.”

“Why . . . why,” Amos Palmer sputtered. “Ain’t nobody ever goin’ to hear my woman backsassin’ like that. If’n ya was mine I’d learn ya yore place.”

A long forgotten manhood made itself known to Elija. He bristled with indignation. Before he stopped to think of the possible repercussions, he faced Palmer squarely and spoke sternly.

“Watch yore mouth if’n ya ain’t awantin’ a real plaguey hobble. Nobody’s talkin’ such ta my woman!”

Palmer’s mouth dropped open. He started to say something, thought better of it, then turned and elbowed his way to the back of the crowd.

“You’re such a sweet man, Elija,” Maude whispered. She smiled proudly up at him and squeezed his arm.

“Naw, I ain’t,” he said with a new dignity, but somewhat stunned that Palmer hadn’t hauled off and hit him.

*  *  *

Juicy and Colby stood over the riverman who sat slumped against the wall of the barracks, his hands and feet tied. Through the blur of pain in his head, he had told them his name was Hoffman.

“I ain’t done nothin’,” he whined. “I was scared a that big feller ’n done what he tole me.” He looked fearfully at the tall, light-haired man they had pulled off him when they first brought him into the stockade.

“Bullshit!” Colby snorted. “I ought to put a bullet right between your eyes!”

“He ain’t worth the waste a one.” Juicy let go a stream of tobacco juice that landed dangerously close to the man.

Farr came toward them with a shovel on his shoulder. He and some of the men had dug the graves on a grassy knoll on a slight rise across the road from the homestead. He had asked Peewee Luscomb if he wished to take his kin back to their homestead and he had shaken his head numbly and asked Farr to pick a place.

A grave for Stith Lenning had been dug some distance from that of the Luscombs.

“What are we going to do with this piece of horseshit, Farr? I’m for hanging him.” Colby glared down at the terrified riverman.

“Naw, Colby boy.” Juicy cut off another chew of tobacco and stuck it in his jaw. “That be over in a wink. What say we burn ’em?”

“No!” Hoffman screeched. “I ain’t done nothin’. I tole ya I warn’t goin’ to hurt the gal!” The man was livid with fear and Farr decided to let him suffer for a while.

“Let’s get the burying over, then we’ll vote on hanging or burning.”

B
y mid-morning the burials were over, and the settlers began to pack their wagons for the return trips home. The boy, Peewee, would take his family, except for the baby, back to the homestead. Farr had talked to him and to the grandmother and told them he was sure that one of Mr. Washington’s goats was giving milk. He asked them if they had any objections to Sugar Tree taking care of the baby if she were willing. The grandmother had said they would be grateful for her help.

The Thompsons and the Palmers pulled out ahead of the rest and headed north. A half hour later the othor wagons were ready to go. The children had been bundled up against the cold late November wind, and the adults stood in the yard beside their wagons, visiting. Unless there was more trouble, it would be spring before they saw their neighbors again. Liberty and Farr stood among them, saying their good-byes.

“Patrol comin’! Patrol comin’!” The call came from one of the men who had led his team outside the gate.

There was instant excitement among those waiting to leave. Some people walked, some ran to the gate and waited for the soldiers, hoping against hope that they were not bringing news of another raiding party. They stood silently and watched the procession as it approached.

Sitting ramrod straight, Hammond Perry led a platoon of twelve men down the road and into the stockade. With a clatter of hooves, the disciplined soldiers rode into the area, turned and formed a single line behind the sergeant and the lieutenant.

In his colorful uniform of blue and red, Hammond Perry stood out from his buckskin-clad troops like a small peacock in a barnyard, Liberty thought, and a wave of apprehension seized her. He walked his horse to the center of the compound. There was hardly any sound at all except for the creak of saddle leather, the stamping of hooves, and the sharp chatter of a squirrel high in the oak tree. His eyes settled on her face, then on Farr’s. He sat his horse and carefully scrutinized every nook and corner inside the stockade.

When he spoke, it was to make a crisp announcement.

“Go on back to your homes. The danger is over for now. The Delaware have gone downriver.”

Hammond walked his horse back to the troops and spoke in low tones to the sergeant. A wary look came over the sergeant’s face, then he frowned.

“Sir? I’m beggin’ yore pardon, sir—”

“It isn’t your job to question my orders. Do it!”

“Yes, sir.” He turned to the troops and shouted, “Dismount.” The men swung from their horses and stood at their heads.

Hammond looked down the line of troops, then nodded to the sergeant. He moved his horse to the side and turned to face the crowd.

“Rifles at the ready!” the sergeant shouted.

The men responded instantly. They dropped to one knee, lifted their rifles and aimed them at the group standing in the yard.

“My God! They be agoin’ ta shoot!” someone shouted, and the crowd began to scramble for cover.

A woman screamed, a man cursed, and frightened children began to cry. Some of the people ran behind their wagons, some ran inside the barracks, some stood as if rooted to the ground.

“What the hell are you up to, Perry?” Farr strode forward with Colby and Juicy beside him.

“I’m placing you under arrest, Quill. Seize him!” he ordered sharply.

Farr made no move to struggle when the two burly troopers pounced on him, knocked him to the ground, then hauled him to his feet. Liberty came running across the yard, wormed her way between the soldiers, and grasped Farr’s arm.

“What’s happening?”

“Stay back out of the way, sweetheart. We’ll find out soon enough.”

“Farr! Oh, darling—”

“Remove the wench from the prisoner,” Hammond ordered crisply.

The sergeant took Liberty’s arm. “Come away, ma’am,” he said gently. “It ain’t goin’ to help none to make him mad,” he murmured for her ears alone.

Liberty was in no mood to heed his warning. Anger, like a living thing, rose up from the very core of her being. It jarred and then shook every reasonable thought from her mind. She jerked her arm from the sergeant’s grasp.

“You vile, stupid, feather-headed, jackass!” she shouted. “You slimy toad! You’re a
little
man, Hammond Perry, trying to make up for your lack of size—”

“Libby, hush.” Her father’s voice only goaded her to say more.

“You’ll never be half the man Farr Quill is if you live a hundred years. I’m glad your brother didn’t live to see you again. He thought you were so grand, but you’re nothing! Nothing! He was ten times the man you are. You’re hateful and spiteful and ugly—”

“Enough!” Hammond roared. His face was beet red. He gripped the ends of the reins as if he intended to strike her. “I’ll not take insults from such as you!”

“You’ve no right to arrest Farr!” Liberty was not the least bit daunted by his anger.

“I have been authorized to arrest him for treason. Now it’s treason and
murder.
I was told by Amos Palmer that he killed Stith Lenning this morning.”

A murmur rose from the people who had come out from behind the wagons and gathered in a small knot. Mrs. Brown stepped forward.

“T’wasn’t murder, Lieutenant. Lenning was takin’ off one of the women here—”

“Were you there? Were you a witness to the killing?”

“Well, no, but—”

“I suggest you take your family and go on home. This is no concern of yours.”

The sergeant gently pulled Liberty back. “Why is he doing this?” she whispered frantically.

“He’s showin’ us who’s boss, ma’am. Don’t worry ’bout your man. He’ll get a trial. I’ll see nothin’ happens ’tween here ’n Vincennes.”

“He killed him, guvner. I saw him do it. Cold blood, it was!” the riverman yelled. “They be goin’ to kill me too. Burn me, they said.”

Hammond turned cold eyes on the riverman. He studied him for a moment before he spoke. “Untie that man and bring him here.”

“That bastard was helping Lenning.” Colby’s voice rolled out over the murmur of disapproval from the crowd.

Hoffman’s feet were untied. He stumbled in his haste to get to Hammond’s horse. “I warn’t doin’ nothin’, guvner. The wench was awantin’ ta go with us. She be sweet on Lenning ’n—”

Colby turned suddenly and struck the riverman across the mouth. It was a wicked, powerful blow, and the man staggered and fell in a heap. He lay on the ground with blood trickling from a smashed lip. Colby heard the click of metal and found himself looking down the barrel of Hammond Perry’s rifle.

“Get back or I’ll shoot you where you stand for interfering with government business,” he snarled. “This man is witness to a murder.”

“He’s a goddamn liar!”

“That’s for the court to decide.” Hammond raised his voice. “Sergeant, get the woman, Willa Carrathers, out here.”

“What’s she got to do with it?”

“I don’t have to explain my orders to you, Carroll. Back off! Get a mount for Quill and one for the woman, sergeant, unless you want to ride double.”

“Lieutenant? Can I speak to you privately?”

“No, you may not. Do as you’re told or face charges yourself when we get back to Fort Knox.”

“Yes, sir. Johnson! Slane! Saddle up a couple horses.”

“You rotten son of a bitch! You’re not taking Willa!” Colby shouted and would have dived at Hammond if Juicy had not grabbed him.

“Hush, boy. Look at Farr. He knows the odds is piled agin us. Our time’ll come.”

Liberty had never felt so helpless in all her life. She had no doubt Hammond would order Farr shot if he resisted. Farr knew that, too. He stood perfectly still. She went to him and put her arms around his waist. The soldiers holding his arms made no move to stop her.

“What does it mean, darling? How can you be charged with treason and murder?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. He’s got something in mind. Don’t rile him anymore. He’s just stupid enough to open fire.”

“Where will he take you?”

“Vincennes. It’s the only place he can take me. It’ll be all right. I have friends there. Go talk to Willa and tell her not to worry. The sergeant is a decent sort. He’ll see that nothing happens to her.”

“Why is Hammond taking her?”

“He’ll try to use her as a witness against me.”

“But . . . treason?”

“There’s no way he can prove I’ve betrayed my country.”

“I love you. Oh, I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Colby was with Willa and she was crying. He had put her in his heavy wool coat and tied a shawl over her head.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’m coming too. I’ll follow you all the way, and when we get to Vincennes we’ll get this thing straightened out.”

“What have I done?”

“You haven’t done anything. He’s using you to get to Farr. All you’ll have to do is tell what happened, and we’ll be back home in no time at all. You’re not alone anymore, sweetheart. You’ve got me and Farr and Liberty. Come on, smile for me, pretty girl.”

“I’m scared, Colby.”

“Don’t be scared. I’ll not be far away. He can’t keep me from following. If anyone lays a hand on you I’ll kill him. I swear it.”

“Come on, ma’am, mount up.” The sergeant turned his back to Hammond and mouthed to Colby. “She’ll be all right.”

Liberty brought Farr’s heavy coat and he slipped it on before they tied his hands behind his back. She only had time to kiss his cheek before the troopers shoved him toward the horse and helped him mount.

“Stay close to Juicy and listen to what he tells you,” Farr said. “I’ll be back soon. Juicy,” he called, “get word to Mr. Washington.”

“I’ll do it, son.”

The sergeant allowed Colby to help Willa mount and then led her horse and Farr’s to the middle of the procession. The riverman was boosted up behind one of the troopers and the sergeant gave the order to move out.

Hammond Perry rode past Liberty. He tilted his stiff neck to look down at her. The gloating look on his face made her sick to her stomach.

“You don’t have much luck with your husbands . . . Liberty. Perhaps you’ll do better next time.”

The deliberate use of her given name was an insult that Liberty ignored. She ran to the gate, and when Farr passed by his eyes clung to hers even as he turned in the saddle to look at her for as long as possible. She could scarcely see him for the tears, yet she stood there until he was out of sight.

Liberty wanted to scream, to rant and rage at the injustice being done to Farr. She turned and went back inside the stockade. If Colby was going to Vincennes, she was going too.

The settlers were gathered in bunches, all talking at once. This was the most exciting thing that had happened in a long while.

Elija stepped out away from the Perkins’ wagon as Liberty ran toward the cabin.

“Libby . . . I be plumb sorry—”

She didn’t stop or look at him. “It’s too late to be sorry,” she said angrily. “I’ll never forgive you for telling Stith we were coming here.”

Colby was in the room he shared with Juicy. A blanket was spread on the bed and on it was a shirt and a bag of coins.

“I’m going with you.”