Fight for Glory (My Wounded Soldier #1) (8 page)

Tom
Tanner

Chapter
Ten

I did not drink
at all the night after I’d lain on Addie’s floor. A thought had struck me in
the field as if I was hearing it for the first time. She had said that if I
left to head west, I would take a goodly part of her heart with me. I tried to
get my mind around carrying a piece of such a beautiful heart. Matters of the
heart were matters of love. I was not as ill prepared to understand such as one
might think. I felt love for her. It made me want to stay as I was not an
unfeeling beast. And it made me want to run. What a hornet’s nest this was.

Two mornings
later I caught Gaylin red-handed, all but accosting the missus on the porch. She’d
gone out there to stroke Ma’s orange cat. It got hot as devil-fire in that
kitchen with all the cooking going on. We’d set up tables under the oaks for
dinner that afternoon. Well there she was getting a couple of minutes to
breathe, and there he was walking on his hands in the yard and making her
laugh. His shirt rode up, and he didn’t have his long johns on, I don’t know
why, but there was his stomach as bare and hairy as hogback before
it’s
scraped.

I swear the scene
washed red, so I made myself breathe slow
cause
I
could do ugly things when in this humor. I had lingered at the table to speak
to Pa, so I closed the door soft now, neither of them aware of me. She was
laughing at him, clapping her hands. The threshing machine was down again and
they were in the fields tinkering with it, but there was plenty of work to do
in the meantime. Seth was already cleaning stalls and why this one thought it
was the Sabbath and time for him to put on a show was anyone’s guess.

Now he was
showing her how he could hold himself up by his two hands, his body held
straight as a board. I had to shake my head on that one for if this is all he
knew about posing for women, I reckoned I had not done my duty toward him as an
older brother.

“Stalls
awaitin’
,” I said, stepping out.

“Best get to it
then, Tom,” he said, back on his feet, his chin looking like mine felt about
now.

We stared at each
other for a beat. His lips looked sewn up tight. I knew mine were.

He looked away
and nodded to Missus, then stalked off to the barn. He’d have the energy for
mucking now, I knew, he was that mad and it had been building.

“Tom,” Missus
said low, like she had the whole thing figured out.

“What?” I said
liking that braid that had been swinging down her back while she helped serve
at breakfast. The men had noticed too. The two without wives blushed furious
when she came round with the grits. She gave me twice as much as them, and I
was ready to burst now from eating more than I liked so early, but they were
looking on, and I wasn’t going to shame her by leaving any.

“He’s just so
full of life, that one.”

“We’re all full
of life, Missus, until we’re dead.” I said, not knowing what in tarnal I was
talking about. “You don’t want to encourage, ‘that one.’”

“Encourage him? To
do what?” she surprised me by asking. This was the first time she had
challenged me, even a little, aside from the truth that her very existence
challenged me everyday to keep to my plans. But now, was she sticking up for
this brother?

“He has work,” I
said, making no sense even to my ears.

“He’s a good hard
worker,” she defended him. “Gaylin and Seth are keeping my farm going. They
carry a double load because of me and never complain. I am so indebted to you
and your family’s kindnesses.” Here she came, that little face, so pretty, skin
like cream, that dark hair, and the braid lying on her breast. Lord.
Her little hand on my arm.
Warmth and
sweetness.

I swallowed
cause
things welled up around her, don’t ask me why. “Missus,”
I said, “no debt.
None at all.
We…Ma and Allie, all of
us…like having you…and the children.” Sweat was starting to roll, even in this
shade and nice breeze.

“I feel like a
part of your family, Tom. I love you all like my own.”

Was that the
love, then? A family love? That had to be so. She loved me in the bundle, in
the pile. It would be okay then. So why did I feel such a dousing of melancholy
at the thought that I was no more to her than Gaylin was to me?

I nodded, like a
brute. I had not one generous word in my head. I went in the barn then the way
a murderer might seek a church. That barn door was a mouth of sanctuary. So
perplexed was I that I did not see him until he was upon me. Or his fist was. He
hit me hard in the shoulder. I welcomed it.

We tusseled
around, me not wanting to hurt Gaylin knowing I’d answer to Ma, who grieved
already for Garrett, and him taking stock of how strong I was or wasn’t. I knew
he would not hold back. His lack of confidence would make him strike hard. The
shoulder told me that.

As we fought we
moved the length of the barn’s first leg. It was shaped like the letter L. It
was one of the biggest barns in Bond so we had plenty of space to chase each
other, drag each other, and throw each other down. We were on the ground now,
wrestling. He had me in a hold, and I let him have control so he’d grow cockier
than ever. And he did. I hoped to spare his face, Ma’s sake again, but I could
make no promises as he tightened his arms around my ribs. He had no idea I was
resting. I wasn’t as young as I used to be, though I did not know thirty
summers yet, more like twenty-six. But I knew to save myself for when the anger
reached its summit. His, not mine.

I soon renewed,
and broke his hold, although my middle ached some. Seth had drawn near, the
only witness so far, and he tried to speak reason, but neither of us listened. This
pup kept his eyes on me, and he was breathing like a foaling sow.
So
I waited, and he charged me. I stepped aside as I’d no
wish to take the brunt. He swept me with his arm and pulled me round, even as
he crashed into a feed barrel and spilled its yellow grain. The animals not set
to pasture were having some say.

So now my fists
were up. Come on, boy, I was thinking. I told myself to ease it down, but I was
barely listening and that wasn’t good.

He righted
himself and charged again, swinging his big fists like a spring pump. I laughed
a little as I dodged him
cause
the anger in him took
over. He was sloppy and wild. Had I taught him nothing? I guessed I’d been gone
so long and neglected my duties with him and Seth. He was incensed when I
reached between his flailing fists and slapped his face so hard his chin hit
his shoulder. He stopped and shook his head twice. I was sorry Ma. But bets
were off now. I would take him down just enough.

I kicked his feet
out from under him, and sat on that belly he’d been so eager to show. I slapped
him again for sassing me too many times.
Then once more for
good.
He wanted to hit back, but his arms were pinned under my knees and
legs, and he was bucking like a bang-tailed horse, so I got off before he threw
me to the rafters.

He was swinging
blind now, just wanting to do some damage. And I tripped him. He went down
hard, but he rolled quick and got up. Seth was saying that’s enough now, but it
made no dent against us. So now he came, and he got in a punch or two, but I
got in more, and there was blood from his nose and lip, and his eyes grew to a
slit
cause
I had that right hook. I’d just got his arm
behind him and held him against the wall when I heard Addie’s voice behind me
talking so fast I’d have to listen to decipher the words. I left off then,
stepped away from Gaylin and he turned toward me, wanting another go-round, but
seeing Missus, the shame held him, and he shook his arm, and she went to him.

I know my jaw
dropped, went to the one who bushwhacked me. Her looking at me the way she must
have looked at that yank she shot. Eyes scolding, as her little mouth comforted
him, all kinds of baby-coddling words as she walked him past me, me the devil,
and then she called Johnny too, like he wasn’t to be left in my company.

Seth was smiling
a sad smile at me and shaking his head. He had a broom and went for the mess
we’d made. Well I knew what to do about this. I walked the length to my room. I
dropped to my knees and felt for the bottle there. It must have rolled to the
wall, because I had to reach, and I felt every hit then, every kick,
every
slam. Damn that barrel-headed kid.

“Tom?” It was
Johnny. Could a man find no peace? There were too many folks round here. A man
had no privacy. I hailed the day I could leave this place in my dust. And some
hope came to me then. I had what I needed to kick this door closed. Let her go
to the likes of him and whoever came after. It had nothing to do with me. I was
free.

But I was not so
free. That night after we returned from the field, I was moving slow as I went
in search of some supper. I dreaded entering the house as I had worked through
dinner and the judgment I knew awaited from the lynch mob that had once been my
family and supporters.

I had dared to
lift a hand to the pride and joy, it seemed. Pa had already let me know his
great disappointment in just a few words and looks as was his wont. This made
twice I had resorted to violence, both times in front of Johnny, it seemed, who
liked to chase barn cats and hide in corners apparently.

The menfolk had
little to say about my bruises, and Gaylin’s limping. But they noticed and
their tongues would wag at the next farm. That farm would not be Addie’s as I
planned to get her crops in myself the old fashioned way, with knife and
scythe. Her husband had been no farmer, plain and true, and the crops were not
large, but every bit helped come winter, so I would see to this last thing
before I lit out.

I intended to
first sit on the porch to pick chaff from my cuffs and shirt, and to run my
hands through my shaggy hair, for I had enough marks against me with Ma, I was
sure, and I needed to take care of messing her house.

Before I could
reach such, Johnny met me in the yard, eyes wide and words rolling over one
another. Addie had broken a glass chimney, and some of the glass had gone in
the cut.

So I went in the
house, cuffs filled with chaff, and there she was, at table, her head bent over
the wound. “Where is everyone?” I asked.

“The boys have
gone to my farm. Your ma is out back, gone to the pond with Allie for a late
swim. They took the baby…well Ma did. She does these things to spell me. But
she works hardest of all.”

“Can I please go,
Ma? Please?” Johnny begged.

“Hurry on, then,
but if you speak with disrespect again, I shall use the rod.”

“Yes, Ma,” he
said, hurrying out.

“He disrespected
you?” I asked, amazed at the boy’s pluck. How could he disrespect his mother?

She kept her head
down, staring at the bloody bit of rag covering her hand.

“Missus?”
She was so still, I reckoned she fought tears. So
I pulled the chair out beside her and sat. Slowly I reached for her hand, my
bruised shoulder protesting,
my
knuckles worse for
wear as I held her little hand in mine and peeled the cloth away. She looked at
me then, and her eyes were glistening. It undid me to see the tear escape and
line her cheek, and she took her good hand and brushed at it.

“Addie,” she
whispered.

I nodded, but I
did not say her name, not with her looking so beautiful I was choked.

When I could
breathe some I kept my eyes on the cut that now showed itself, an angry red
gash. “Ma is comforted to have you here. The children…they are bringing her
healing,” I said, sounding more like Seth than myself.

She gasped a
little. I looked sharp at her, afraid I’d hurt her somehow, when I’d yet to
probe this wound. “I never pondered it that way,” she said. “I haven’t been
able to see past the extra work we bring. But if I allow myself…I see truth in
what you’ve said.” She beamed at me then, a smile so pure and lovely it would
have brought me to my knees quicker than Gaylin’s best tackle were I not
seated.

“Missus, what I
need for this is in my room.”

“I’ll come
there,” she said quickly, before I could make my mind up about it.

So I handed her
the bloody rag, and she covered her wound, and I led her out, and it felt like
sin somehow. We did not speak though she had much to say, I could feel it. The
betrayal I felt when she went to Gaylin was not between us, for I had let go of
that childish rumination once reason returned in the field. Of course she went
to him for he had suffered the brunt of it, and favoring me would do no good. I
was no tender baby. I didn’t need fussing over.

I led her into my
hovel. I was a neat man usually, but today, of course, I had slammed around in
here after my brawling, so a stool was overturned, and my Sunday suit was
knocked onto the floor. I picked this up with a quick swipe that left me aching
a little. But aching just meant I was alive.

So I had her sit
at my little table, and I moved aside my books, not wishing for her to look
them over or question me as I found reading personal. I brought the lantern
there and lit it easy, having her sit across from me, holding her hand under
the light, laying it there on the wood. I was embarrassed for her to see me,
backside in the air trying to find my bottle. It was there, and I wondered at
Johnny’s involvement in its placement, but I would save that for another time.

I tried not to
groan like a grandpa as I stood and the chaff fell from my various folds. I
went to the table and wished I’d had my wash-up already cause truth be told I
smelled like more than the field after the day I’d put in.