Touched

by Carolyn Haines

  “Like her mother,” John said.

  They were trying to put a better angle on Duncan’s dream, and for Duncan they were succeeding. She was smiling a little, a hesitant smile. Telling the dream had been the right thing. It had cleansed her of it. I got up and took her cup to make her some more tea. Dawn was just beginning to break, and we had agreed to try to clear the road to town if we could. It was going to be a long, hard day, especially without Floyd to help John on the saw. But I wanted the road cleared as soon as possible, just in case Will got back sooner than anyone thought. I didn’t know what Duncan’s dream meant. I didn’t believe she was going to drown. But I wanted Will to return. Sanity would return with him, I was certain.

  Thirty

  WE were up and through with breakfast by seven o’clock. Only Duncan looked as if she’d slept at all, an irony, to be sure. None the worse for her dream, she teased me and her mother about the dungarees we wore. JoHanna had insisted that if we were going to work like men, we should dress like men. Skirts were dangerous around saws and trees. It took little to convince me. Even though the pants she gave me were big, I snugged them at the waist with one of Will’s cut down belts and felt a freedom I’d left behind in childhood. I was standing in front of the chevalier in JoHanna’s bedroom, hands on my hips, admiring my masculine silhouette, when Duncan caught me.

  “You’re getting to be just like mama,” she warned. She was standing in a shaft of white-yellow light that flooded into the room from three big windows that also washed the bed in sunlight. She, too, wore pants. A jaunty tam sat on the side of her head. “Pretty soon all the men in town will be afraid of you, too.”

  “I can only hope.” The words came out with an anger I hadn’t been aware of until I spoke.

  She realized what she’d said, and she flushed. “I’m sorry, Mattie.” She leaned against the doorway. Her legs were getting stronger, but she still found it tiring to stand for any length of time without support. “I’m sorry for everything that happened to you. But the bruises are going away. And your ribs must be much better.”

  Staring at myself in the mirror, I’d failed to notice the green bruises beneath my eyes and the scab on my cheekbone. I had looked at myself but had failed to see the remnants of the beating. The features of my face had not registered at all, but I was healing, and soon all exterior physical traces of Elikah’s beating would be gone. I felt like working. In fact, I was eager to help clear the road. I needed hard labor. Something inside me was growing, and it was pushing against my skin, wanting out. But I was afraid to let it out, afraid of what it might become. If I could work until exhaustion, perhaps I could exorcise it that way.

  “I’m going to be fine.” I realized Duncan was watching me in the mirror, waiting for some answer.

  “When Daddy gets home, he’ll beat the hallelujah out of Elikah for you.” Duncan’s offer was made with quiet force.

  I turned around to face her directly. “I don’t want Will to do that.”

  “You don’t?” Duncan’s face fell. “Why not?”

  Why not? The idea of Elikah’s face, smashed and broken, pleased me greatly. Somewhere in the midst of the storm, an idea had stolen over me. The only way to get on with a bully was to bully him back. That was true. The only sign of fear I’d seen Elikah display was when he was on a collision course with JoHanna. He did not fear her physically, but he did fear what she would do to him in town. Doc Westfall was bound by his oath not to discuss his patients. JoHanna was not. She could, and would, tell everything he’d done. And he couldn’t intimidate her the way he did me.

  “Are you going to put him in prison?” Duncan asked.

  “Where did you get that idea?” It hadn’t even crossed my mind. He was my husband. No court of law would put him behind bars for hitting me.

  “I heard Mama and John talking. John said maybe the best thing would be to get a good lawyer and bring charges against him. John said even if he wasn’t convicted, the shame of it would likely make him behave. If he didn’t kill you outright before you got a chance to testify.”

  Formal charges were a thought, but along with Elikah, I would be shamed, too. The night in New Orleans slammed into my mind, a seething twist of images that made me break eye contact with Duncan.

  “What’s wrong, Mattie?” She came into the room, her steps slow and careful. Reaching out, she put her hand on my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know that the court is the place to fight this out.” I forced a smile. “I sort of like the image of Will’s knuckle prints in Elikah’s face.”

  “Me, too.” Duncan grinned. “Daddy is an excellent boxer. Did you know that?”

  “Will?” He was so perfectly dressed, such a gentleman, I could hardly picture him, fists lifted, punching another man in the face for sport.

  “He was on the boxing team at his university.”

  I had suspected Will had gone to school. “Where was that?”

  “Oh, some place in Virginia.” Duncan shrugged. “He said he liked it well enough but was glad to get out.”

  “And then he became a salesman?” I had spent many an hour wondering about Will. Where had he come from? How had he met JoHanna? Was it like it had been for Jeb Fairley and Sadie, love at first sight? But while those perfect fantasies had entertained me, there was also a much darker edge to my fantasies about JoHanna and Will. John Doggett. I no longer hated him. We were linked by circumstance and our mutual love for JoHanna. But because I could even like him, it made me feel disloyal to Will. I could only wonder what Duncan felt. And why JoHanna put her in such a position. It was clear that Duncan loved her father better than anyone on earth. Maybe she didn’t realize what JoHanna’s relationship with John would do to Will. Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I didn’t understand anything at all about life.

  “Are you girls ready?” JoHanna appeared in the doorway. The pants she wore emphasized her rounded butt and a waist still small. She wore one of Will’s too-big shirts tucked in her pants, the collar unbuttoned down to her cleavage. She looked smart, and sexy. I glanced back at the mirror. I looked like a boy. My recent illness had robbed me of the curves I’d been developing.

  “Come on, you two. John’s got the car packed, and I want to get into Jexville, get Floyd, and get on the road to Fitler.”

  She didn’t say it, but she’d begun to worry about Floyd. She’d halfway expected him to walk out for breakfast. It wasn’t that far, and he often appeared at the back door just as she was putting the food on the table. It was a special treat for Duncan, to have Floyd at the beginning of the day.

  We hurried out into the sunshine that was already too hot. October was only a week away, yet it felt like July. John waited behind the wheel of the car, a fact that made me stop in my tracks. It struck me as wrong. Dead wrong, but I got in the backseat with Duncan and the rooster and didn’t say anything.

  “When we get the road cleared, I need to go to the grocery store and get some supplies.” JoHanna settled into the passenger seat.

  “Not in those pants, you’re not.” John spoke matter-of-factly, but his tone made JoHanna’s head whip around.

  “I—”

  “I don’t want to have to bury you before the sun sets. JoHanna, the town is already buzzing. You want to pour salt on the wound? And I’m not going to ride in with you either. There’s enough talk.”

  JoHanna looked straight ahead. In the backseat, Duncan punched me lightly on the knee. She made a face. “How are we going to get some food?” she asked. “We need some milk and bread, and some of Mara’s sweet rolls with cinnamon. And cornmeal. And—”

  John rolled his eyes at her in the backseat. “Poor starving child,” he said. “I’ll get out of the car before we get to town. I’ll walk in and get whatever you want. I think it would be fine for you to drive around town, let folks know you aren’t afraid. Just don’t start new trouble by getting out in those pants. You can pick me up on the way home with the groceries.”

  “I see you’ve thou
ght it all out.” JoHanna’s voice was impossible to read with her face looking out the front window of the car.

  “I’m not trying to boss you, JoHanna. I’m afraid. That town is hotter than a hornet’s nest. I don’t think you realize. The men … they’re afraid. And fear can bring down some powerful actions. Ones that people regret later, but it’s too late by then.”

  JoHanna’s shoulders relaxed, and so did mine. “You’re right. We don’t want to provoke them any more. It just makes me furious to think that I have to kowtow to their stupid rules and codes.”

  “I hardly think you kowtow,” John said, his deep voice rich with amusement. “If it weren’t for the storm and the damage, I’d say wear your pants. But folks are upset. They’ve been hit by a force they can’t control, and it has them looking for someone to blame. As you well know, that’s you. And Duncan. And me and Mattie if we get in the line of fire.”

  “You’re right.” JoHanna yielded with a degree of grace. “That’s a good plan, John. Now let’s get on to the first tree.”

  The severe wind damage to the trees shocked us, and then finally numbed us as we made our way slowly toward Jexville. In places the stands of timber had been twisted and torn, in others they had been snapped only feet from the base. John explained to Duncan how the pines worked off a deep tap root. In contrast, some of the water oaks and red oaks had been pushed over, their shallow, extended root system exposed to the hot sun. Lying on their sides, too big to be righted, they would die a slower death. JoHanna looked at the casualties, then turned away.

  “What about the people?” Duncan asked.

  “We’ll find out in town,” JoHanna told her in a tone that halted further questions.

  We removed five trees from the road by lunch time, but only one of them was really big, a virgin loblolly that had somehow missed the logger’s saw. When the pine was moved from the road, we drove on a little more, surprised to find that someone had already started clearing out Peterson Lane, working from the town side toward us. Since the road was clear, we pulled the big Auburn into a grove of mostly undamaged smaller trees and had our picnic. We weren’t completely hidden from the road, but John took care to park in such a manner that we were partially concealed and so that we could get out in a hurry—headed for the open road toward town. As we unwrapped the sandwiches and poured the glasses of sweet tea I listened intently for the sound of approaching vehicles or wagons. There wasn’t a sign of anyone coming our way.

  “Do you suppose the rest of the main roads are cleared?” JoHanna asked, puzzled by the fact that a dead-end road had received such attention.

  “Could be.” John stared down the hot, red-dirt lane. His face had a closed look, as if whatever thoughts he had were too private to share.

  JoHanna read him easily. “You think they were headed out to the house, don’t you?” she asked.

  “It did cross my mind.” He stood and took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. The egg salad sandwich JoHanna had made was half eaten on the pale yellow linen napkin beside him.

  “Why did they stop?”

  “Maybe the work of removing the trees burned out their anger.” He shifted his position against a sycamore tree that had been stripped of every leaf. “Maybe all of the roads have been cleared and they were working on this one when dark fell.” He drew one knee up to assume a posture of comfort, but his eyes belied his casual pose.

  Staring at his face I felt a chill touch me. He had not told us everything about his adventures in town the day before. His caution had been deliberately understated so as not to antagonize JoHanna further. But he was worried. And as he leaned forward to pick up his sandwich, his pants shifted up above his boot. Tucked in the top was a pistol.

  He must have felt my gaze upon it because he looked at me and waited until he caught my eye. He didn’t have to speak to tell me to keep my mouth shut. In that strange way he had, he communicated clearly with me. The gun was to protect JoHanna and Duncan, and me, if it came to that. But it was not necessary to call attention to it. It would be better for JoHanna if she did not know.

  I heard him clearly, and I got up and walked the short distance to the car to pour us all some more tea. Behind me I heard his soft tread in the green pine needles that had been stripped from the trees and scattered to carpet the ground.

  “Can you use a gun, Mattie?” he asked softly.

  I concentrated on filling my glass with tea. Once, when Jojo was drunk, he’d forced me to fire his gun. I could remember the feel of the gun in my hand, the cold metal and the kick when the trigger was pulled. Jojo had found it amusing because he put the gun in my hands, stood behind me, and held my hands on it as he pointed and aimed it at Callie as she ran around the yard. His finger had made my finger pull the trigger while Callie screamed and ran and I fought to stop Jojo from killing her. The smell of his rot-gut whiskeyed breath made me nauseous, but I couldn’t faint because I couldn’t allow him to kill Callie. I had to wrench the gun down when I felt his finger beginning to squeeze the trigger. Jerking the gun, I watched the dirt kick up at my feet as Callie screamed and ran to hide behind another tree or an old barrel.

  John’s hands caught me on the shoulders. “Mattie?”

  I took a deep breath of the clean, sweet air. There was no smell of whiskey, no smell of gunpowder and fear. I looked up at him as he lightened his grip on me. “I’m okay.”

  “Can you use a gun?” Urgency rippled through him.

  “If I have to.” Had I been able to wrench the gun from Jojo’s hand, I could have shot him. To save Callie, I could have killed him. And I could do it again for JoHanna and Duncan.

  John reached into his pocket and brought out a tiny silver derringer. “This is accurate only close up. There’s two shots in it, so make them count. Go for the heart. The chest is a bigger target and easier to hit. Also less traumatic afterward. And Mattie,” he said as he closed my fingers over the beautifully carved bone handle. “Use it if you have to. Don’t let them get Duncan, if they try. They’ll kill her. They may regret it later, but that wouldn’t bring her back.”

  “Does JoHanna have a gun?”

  He stared into my eyes. “No. I honestly think you’re more capable than she is. I’ve put my faith in you.”

  He started to turn away, but my fingers closed on his white shirt and held him. He turned back to face me, his features settling into a calm mask.

  “Why don’t we go back to the farm? We don’t have to go to town. Maybe if we wait a bit this will blow over. Why are we going in there to provoke them into hurting us?”

  “Because I’m afraid if we don’t go there, they’ll come out to us. If they surround the farm, take us by surprise, Duncan and JoHanna won’t have a chance. At least this way the main roads are cleared. She’s got the car, and there’s not another in Jexville that can come close to the speed of the Auburn. I can block off one end of town and hold them until she can drive away.”

  “And what will happen to you?”

  His grin was daring, another of his masks, the Errol Flynn derring-do man. “I’m tired of trying to write my book anyway. Once they calm down, they won’t take it out on a man.” He shrugged free of my fingers and went back to the area in the woods where JoHanna was gathering up the picnic supplies with quick, determined movements.

  As I watched the two of them I knew JoHanna was as aware of the dangers as John. She’d tried to hide them from me, and from Duncan. Now the pretenses were down. We were driving into a place where anything could happen. People I’d come to know, people she’d known most of her life, were capable of any betrayal. Even an attack on her child.

  When we got back in the car, JoHanna got behind the wheel, John in the passenger seat. At JoHanna’s instruction, Duncan held the rooster down beside her on the seat. In retribution, Pecos pecked me on the hip, causing me to scootch as far away as possible.

  Just at the railroad tracks on the west side of town, John got out of the car and I climbed into the front seat.
“Let them see you. Drive slowly, but not too slowly. Don’t stop. No matter what they do.”

  JoHanna nodded, her hands gripping the wheel. “I’ll head down toward Mobile and then turn around and come back and pick you up on the back road. Forty minutes.”

  John nodded. “Your list.”

  JoHanna pulled the piece of paper from the pocket of Will’s shirt. I saw it had only three items on it as I handed it over to John. Milk, sweet rolls, and cornmeal. All requested by Duncan.

  “There’s nothing on it I really need.” JoHanna reached after the list even as I handed it to John.

  “If there’s a problem, I won’t waste my time trying to find sweet milk for you.” He grinned, then stepped back from the car. “It’s up to you, Mattie,” he said softly.

  We drove away and left him watching us on the side of the road.

  Just on the west side of the tracks, JoHanna turned onto Redemption Road and headed toward town. We bumped over the tracks and slowed. The destruction at the feed store was awful. The store itself was mainly undamaged, but the big hay barn that had once stood behind it had completely collapsed. I couldn’t tell for certain, but it seemed that maybe the storm had blown a section of roof away, which in turn had allowed the rain to soak the huge stack of hay. Once the hay was wet, it must have started sliding into the support timbers. That was when Chas Leatherwood had gone out to try to shore up the support and keep the entire roof from caving in. But the hay, sodden with rain, was already beginning to slide. As we drove slowly by, we could see the pile of hay, dark and heavy. There was the musty smell of mold even though the sun was bright. John had said they’d gotten Chas’s body out from beneath the hayslide. He had suffocated, the weight of the hay and the lack of oxygen beneath it, combining to kill him. It would have been a horrible, frightening death.

  There were at least a dozen men working in the yard beside the barn, and as JoHanna drove slowly by, they eased their saws and ropes to a halt to stare at us. We didn’t wave, and we didn’t turn away. We drove on as if we were running an errand in town.