Touched

by Carolyn Haines

  I saw JoHanna’s gaze flash to the side mirror and remain several seconds. Trying not to draw Duncan’s interest, I turned slowly to look behind us. The men remained clustered in the woodyard, pitchforks and saws hanging at their sides in grips that had gone loose and limp. They were knotted tighter, a smaller group, as if they huddled to speak. To plan. Even as I watched, a teenage boy broke from the group and started to run, his thin legs pumping hard. He was headed toward the center of town, cutting through the back lots and back yards. I felt the power of the men’s gazes as they turned their attention from the boy back to us and watched as the Leatherwood house blocked us from their view. My hand slid into my pocket and felt the gun. It didn’t make me feel safe, but it made me feel better.

  The Leatherwood house was separated from the feed store by a three-acre field that was now the parking place for two older vehicles and three wagons, one belonging to Doc Westfall. The curtains were closed on all the windows in the house, and JoHanna took a left on Paradise and then another left on Canaan to stop at my front door. Even as the wheels ceased to move, my panic grew. There was safety in movement. Flight. But one glance at JoHanna’s throat told me she knew the danger, and she had a plan of her own.

  I looked at the house I had come to as a new bride. The front porch swing was still hanging but two shutters were missing. The barn in the back looked to be fine, and Mable was standing at the gate chewing a mouthful of grass as if she’d weathered the storm without trouble. We’d gone past Jeb Fairley’s house, and I was relieved to see that his magnolia grandifola had made it through the hurricane. I was afraid the big tree had been knocked down.

  JoHanna put her hand on the key but she didn’t stop the engine. “Run on inside and get some more clothes,” she said. “I’ll wait here with Duncan. I’m counting on the fact that Elikah is too cheap to miss opening his shop today.” She didn’t say it, but I knew this was my last chance to claim whatever I wanted from Elikah’s house. In JoHanna’s mind I was not coming back here. Not for any reason.

  “I don’t want any of my clothes.” Looking at that house gave me the creeps. Even the front porch, once my haven, had been despoiled by Elikah’s touch. I didn’t want anything to remind me of my life with Elikah Mills. What I wanted was a fresh start someplace else.

  “Are you sure?”

  Was there anything in that house I’d miss? Anything I considered mine? I nodded my head. “I’m sure. We can go.”

  JoHanna eased off the clutch and we turned around and headed down Canaan to Mercy. We took a right and slowed as we went by the grocery where John would buy our food.

  Something had broken the store window and several men were busy inside mopping and cleaning. At the sight of the red touring car, all of them stopped work and stared out at us as we drove by. As if magically drawn, they dropped their mops and brooms and stepped through the broken glass window and out onto the street.

  They followed us. They did not hurry, but they followed, and I felt the skin along my spine prickle and dance.

  We took a right at Redemption, headed east again, and I braced myself. The stores along the main road were not badly damaged, some of them not at all. But we would go by the barbershop, and there was a chance I would see Elikah. And that he would see me. My fingers sought the carved handle of the derringer in my pocket. I wondered if JoHanna knew John had given it to me. Probably not, or she would have demanded it herself.

  Elikah’s shop was on one side of the street and the boot shop on the other. All three of us looked to the boot shop. The window was clearly broken, and the shop was dark inside. Perhaps Floyd and Mr. Moses were in the back, or maybe they’d gone to his house over on Liberty Street for more supplies. I studiously avoided looking to the left, to the barbershop. JoHanna slowed, but she didn’t stop.

  “Should I stop and look for Floyd?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so.” I looked to the end of town. There were wagons and trucks parked along the street but it was clear that business was much slower than usual. The sun beat down on the red dirt road without mercy, and I wiped the sweat from my forehead before it could sting my eyes. “We ought to keep moving.”

  JoHanna reluctantly pressed the gas, her gaze lingering on the boot shop. “If there’s anything up with Floyd, John will find out.”

  In the backseat, Duncan was unusually quiet. She cuddled Pecos to her side and stroked his head as she stared into the boot shop. “I wish we could talk to him,” she said softly.

  My attention was focused on Duncan when JoHanna slammed on the brakes, tossing me into the dash, and Duncan and the rooster against the backseat. Scrabbling to right myself, I looked out the front window to see five men blocking the road, Sheriff Grissham in the center. My first thought was of Floyd. He would slink into his gunfighter’s crouch and draw down on these men, standing as if this were a shootout in the Wild West. Grissham’s right hand even hovered in the air, and I wondered if he wore a six-shooter beneath his coat.

  JoHanna stopped the car, but she had no intention of killing the motor. She put her arm out the driver’s window, leaned over slightly and called out, “Afternoon, Sheriff.”

  For a long time no one moved. The men stood there, blocking the road but undecided what to do next. JoHanna leaned on the door, as casual as a cat in the sun. Behind us, the men from the grocery and the feed store were coming. Had Elikah joined them as they passed his barbershop? I could not stop the lurch of fear that came with that thought.

  “Have you come to see your handiwork?” Grissham’s voice was strained. His fingers flexed over his right hip and I knew he had a gun.

  “I came to see how the town had fared. I noticed someone was trying to get out to check on us. The road was mostly cleared. That was a nice thought since Will is out of town.” JoHanna’s foot eased on the gas pedal, making sure the car would respond if she let off the clutch. “I was sorry to hear about Chas Leatherwood.”

  “I’ll just bet you were,” one of the men sneered at JoHanna. He took a step closer to my side of the car, and even from a distance I could smell the liquor on his breath.

  “I am sorry.” JoHanna saw the man’s eyes dart back to Duncan, who sat very still in the middle of the backseat with Pecos in her lap. “I’m not so sorry that I wouldn’t run over you like a bug, Boley Odom, if you make a move toward my daughter.”

  She spoke in the same soft voice she’d used before, conversational. It took a few seconds for the words to register on the man. When they did, he stepped back a few paces before he caught the sheriff’s eye and stopped.

  “Folks in town got some concerns about you, JoHanna. You and that girl. Folks believe you’re in league with Satan.” Grissham’s eyes were colorless. I couldn’t tell if he believed what he was saying or not.

  “Folks can believe whatever they want. I don’t think there are any laws in this country stopping folks from believing foolishness. It’s an American right.” She smiled. “Just as I have a right to drive down this road. Unless you have some legal accusations to make against me.”

  “Maybe you should be taken in. For your own protection.” He matched her smile with a cold, hard grin.

  “Sheriff, as long as you’re willing to suffer the repercussions of such an act.” JoHanna’s voice was knifelike, cutting. All softness was gone. “You know that Will and I will take this as high as we have to. Will had some business with Senator Brady just last week. I’m certain the Senator will be glad to give you an interpretation of a sheriff’s rights to detain a law-abiding citizen for her own protection. If you want to send a wire, I’ll be glad to wait for a reply.”

  JoHanna had pushed him too far. I saw the man on the far left bring the gun out from behind his back. It was a casual movement, and all the more deadly for that. He wasn’t afraid or excited. He was calculating. The man named Boley Odom also brought a pistol out of his belt.

  I could see the pulse jumping in JoHanna’s neck. Each tiny jump matched the harsh thud of my own heart. I reached over t
he backseat and took Duncan’s hand, squeezing it hard to let her know to be still.

  “Turn off the car, Mrs. McVay.” Grissham’s voice was deadly.

  “I think not, Sheriff. I have some errands to tend to, and I want to take my daughter home. If you want to come and get me later, come on. I suggest you send that telegram before you do anything you’ll regret.”

  The power JoHanna threatened was a thousand miles away, far removed from this moment in Jexville. Will’s connections to Washington had been the one thing that had kept JoHanna safe. Now it wasn’t enough.

  The men from the feed store and grocery had come up behind us. In looking back to check on Duncan, I saw that two of them were armed. We were blocked in. JoHanna would have to drive over the men in front, or back over the ones behind to get away. I didn’t think even the big Auburn was fast enough to do that without all of us getting shot first. My only consolation was that Elikah was not among them. I knew none of the men except Boley Odom, Clyde’s brother, and the sheriff.

  “Get out of the car.” All disguise of civility was gone from the sheriff’s voice. “There’s some feeling in town that you and that crippled girl know more about Chas Leatherwood’s murder than you let on.”

  “Hold it, Sheriff.” The male voice came from up above, and I swiveled to the only two story building in Jexville to find Doc Westfall’s window open and a shotgun pointed at the street. Doc’s white hair was a nimbus behind the gun as he sighted down the barrel at the sheriff’s chest.

  “Doc,” Grissham called the words out loud and strong, “better back out of this while you can. This isn’t about doctoring.”

  “No, it’s about stupidity and fear.” Doc never lowered the shotgun. Behind him I saw a slight movement. John Doggett. He had gone to Doc when he saw JoHanna in trouble. Or had I imagined the passing of a shadow behind Doc’s white hair?

  Grissham spoke again. “You don’t want to spend your last days in jail for murder, Doc.”

  “The way I figure it, Quincy, I can shoot you in the gut and if one of your gunslingers doesn’t kill me, I can make it down the steps and patch you up before you die. It would hurt something fierce, but it wouldn’t kill you. Worst I’d get is attempted manslaughter. And by the time I went to trial, I daresay the sentiments of the town would have changed a good bit. Folks would come to their senses and be ashamed of how they were afraid of a nine-year-old girl. Now back off and let Mrs. McVay and her daughter pass.”

  “You’re gonna regret this.” Grissham didn’t move for a few seconds, but when he took the first step back, I knew we had won. I released my grip on the derringer and put my shaking hand in my lap.

  JoHanna eased the clutch, taking care not to make the car jerk or shudder. We drove slowly through the men, clearing the end of town without further incident, and headed for open country. We had topped two hills before I saw JoHanna breathe.

  “I don’t think this worked out the way I had hoped,” JoHanna said, her eyes on the road.

  “I hate them.” Duncan spoke with such vehemence that JoHanna touched her foot to the brake, slowing the speeding car. I kept my eyes on the road, looking for the trees that might wreck us because JoHanna wasn’t paying attention.

  She reached into the backseat and grabbed Duncan’s knee. “Don’t hate them, Duncan. I don’t hate them. I’m even sorry for some of them. For Agnes. She’ll be lost without Chas to tell her what to do.” Her voice saddened. “They fear us, and we pity them.”

  Her words were like a slap. “It’s gone beyond that now, JoHanna. Save your pity; they would have hurt you. Or Duncan. Or …” I stopped myself before I said Floyd’s name. “This isn’t some lesson you’re going to teach them. You act as stupid as they do. They aren’t going to suddenly understand. They don’t want to understand. They want to lash out and hurt. It gives them pleasure to do that.”

  JoHanna’s face colored, and her foot hit the gas pedal, sending the car forward with a spurt of gravel. “You’re right, Mattie.” She pressed harder on the gas. “We’ll drive for a while, give Doc a chance to settle them down. Maybe now that we’ve had a confrontation, they’ll let it go. John will be able to tell us.” Her face cleared as the breeze struck her cheeks and cooled them. She pointed toward a stand of loblolly pines that were twisted and broken. “Looks like the wind did about the same amount of damage out this way. See how all of the trees fell in the same direction. That’s a strong force of wind. Now a tornado will lay the trees in different directions because the wind currents are circular and tight.” She pointed out other damage as we drove, allowing us all to calm before we had to turn around and head back toward Jexville.

  “Mama, turn to the right up here.” It was the first words Duncan had spoken since her angry outburst. The road she pointed to was narrow, a red slit between two tall water oaks. If Duncan hadn’t seen it, we would have passed it by.

  “Why?” JoHanna asked. “It’s hardly a road.”

  “I want to see something,” Duncan whispered. “I don’t remember Jexville in my dream, but this road … I saw this road, and the family on it.” A frown creased her brow.

  “Duncan, it looks muddy. We can’t afford to get stuck out here now. Especially not today.” There was no traffic coming in either direction, and JoHanna slowed the car and stared at the red-dirt road. “It has a peculiar name, but I can’t remember. I think it’s a dead end, maybe a few farm families on it.”

  “Please, Mama.” Duncan’s plea held something else, a whisper of something sinister. “It’s from the dream.”

  “We’d better not.” JoHanna eased off the gas and put the car in motion at a fast clip. “We’ll take the old Scott Dairy Loop Road.”

  “Mama!” Duncan grasped the back of the seat and shook it. “Please go back. Please. I have to see if it was …”

  Duncan was spoiled, but I’d never seen her pitch a fit. I turned back to give her a warning look, but her face stopped me. “What is it, Duncan?”

  She’d let Pecos go and he was perched on the top of her seat, the wind ruffling his feathers in what I thought must be as close to flight as an awkward old rooster would ever achieve.

  “There’s something on that road. Please. I have to look.”

  At the next opportunity, JoHanna turned around and we went back to the narrow red lane that cut between the oaks. We bumped along the ruts to Pecos’s indignant squawking. On the main road he could dream that he was an eagle soaring down the roadway. Here he had to hang on for dear life or be thrown out of the car.

  After a mile of bumping and jarring, JoHanna slowed the car to a stop and turned around in her seat. “Duncan, I’ve had about enough of you and this road. It’s going to knock the car apart. The only good thing I can say is that there haven’t been any trees in the way.”

  There were fields on both sides of the road, no trees to blow down, just flat, unkempt pastures fenced with rusted barbed wire.

  “Just a little farther,” Duncan urged. The darkness in her face had been replaced by confusion. “Please. Just a little more.” She was pale, the green tam only serving to highlight the alabaster of her skin.

  “What exactly is it you expect to find?” JoHanna turned completely in the seat. “We’re not going on unless you tell me.”

  “Remember the dream of the storm? I said it wasn’t anyone I knew. That there were bodies in the trees.” She gripped the front seat with her small, strong fingers. “This is the place.”

  Whether it was true or not, Duncan’s words were impossible to ignore. JoHanna eased the car forward. The road narrowed more, until the branches of small scrub trees reached out to grab at the side of the car. JoHanna’s foot eased off the accelerator and she began to look for a place to turn around. “We have to meet John,” she said. “I don’t think this road goes anywhere, Duncan.”

  “Listen,” Duncan ordered. “Listen.”

  JoHanna stopped the car, listening. In the distance there was the sound of an animal in distress.

  “Cow,” I fi
nally determined. “Sounds like it might be hung in a fence or in some kind of trouble.”

  “It’s not calving season,” JoHanna noted.

  I shrugged. A lot of dirt farmers didn’t go by season. They just waited for a chance to get their cow to the closest bull, and they didn’t care whether the calf was born in spring or winter.

  JoHanna eased the car forward, clearly unhappy about doing so. “This is beginning to give me the creeps,” she said, trying to make light of it. Duncan was anxious, and even though the sun was shining I felt a chill at the base of my spine. “You said no one around Jexville drowned. Folks around here would have to wade in a creek or lay out in their yards with their noses in the air to drown in the rain. It isn’t like we live on the coast.”

  JoHanna talked and Duncan dug her fingers into the back of the front seat. I found myself fondling the gun in my pocket. Never in a million years would I have ever guessed that a gun could have given me such a sense of safety. Scanning the sides of the road for trouble, I knew I would use the gun without hesitation. I would have used it in town on men I had spoken to when passing them on the street. I would not be a victim again.

  The desperate lowing of the cow grew louder and louder, until I spotted the animal in the pasture. She stood, legs straddling a big udder, crying her distress. At the size of her milkbag I knew the trouble. She hadn’t been milked in a long time. She was in great pain, and though I was a fair hand at milking, I didn’t know if I’d be able to bring the milk down and give her the relief she sought.

  “Can you help her, Mattie?” JoHanna asked as I swung open the car door and got out.

  “I’ll see.”

  The cow was in too much pain to run from me, so it was easy enough to examine her, but touching her strutted udder brought on an entirely different reaction. She cried in pain, and I had to steel myself to pull on the teats to make the hot, discolored liquid zip into the sparse grass. JoHanna was standing at the cow’s head, stroking her and talking. In the car, Duncan was crying at the cow’s suffering.