Some Dark Holler (The Redemption of Ephraim Cutler Book 1)

by Luke Bauserman

  Peyton stepped in front of her. “Isabel, give me a chance. We had a grand time dancing together. I can make you happy like that again, I promise. All you have to do is let me try.” He grabbed her hands and gently pulled them down from her face. “Can’t you see? I’m sweet on you.”

  “Let go!” Isabel said through clenched teeth, ripping her wrists from Peyton’s grasp.

  Peyton stayed where he stood, mouth open, as Isabel stormed out the back door of the store, not bothering to remove her coffee-sack apron. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and marched into the woods. She needed to be alone.

  19

  The Clearing

  Ephraim hid on the outskirts of Sixmile Creek, crouched behind a boulder, watching the back of Coleman’s Dry Goods through the trees. Nancy had left an hour ago, promising to do her best for Ma and to return with news. Ephraim had wanted to hide closer to the cabin, but Nancy had told him that would be a poor idea.

  “The folks a-huntin’ ye will be keepin’ a close eye on that cabin. With your ma fixin’ to die, they’d be right in thinkin’ you’ll try to look in on her,” she’d said.

  Ephraim gnawed on a piece of dried meat that Nancy had given him. His stomach rumbled, and he thought of how little he’d eaten over the past few days. His appetite was returning.

  Cold from the rock seeped into his body. He moved away from the boulder, staying low, and sat down in a patch of sunshine. The warmth felt good.

  He felt a twinge in his wounded arm and rubbed it. It seemed to throb with a pulse of its own. He laid it in his lap.

  As he waited for Nancy to return, his eyes grew heavy. After a few minutes, his chin began to tilt toward his chest, and his arm fell back to his side.

  He was awoken by the sound of distant sobbing. His head snapped up, and he scurried back to the shelter of the boulder. Whoever it was, they were downslope from him. He waited, making sure that the person wasn’t drawing any closer, then crept out from behind the boulder and picked his way through the trees toward the sound.

  In a small meadow he found the source of the sobbing. It was Isabel, in her coffee-sack apron, sitting in the dry grass, her face cradled in her hands.

  Without thinking, Ephraim walked toward her. She looked up and started.

  “Ephraim! What are you doing here?”

  He sat down beside her. “Hidin’. What are you doin’?”

  Isabel’s mouth became a hard, thin line. “None of your business.”

  “Oh.” Ephraim looked down.

  Isabel’s face contorted with a strange mixture of anger and relief. “I’m up here because of you! You killed Silas Henson! Why? Didn’t you stop to think that you’d wind up being hunted like some stupid coon?” She wiped her reddened eyes. “Didn’t you think… that I’d be worried sick about you?”

  Ephraim pulled a dry blade of grass from the ground and wound it around his fingers. “I don’t know how to explain what happened,” he said softly. “Ma… she ain’t been well for some time. She’s been goin’ on and on about Pa. Takin’ out his pistol. Talkin’ to it.” The blade of grass broke, and he picked another. “She wanted me to kill a Yankee for Pa. I told her I wouldn’t do it. Told her it was wrong.”

  Isabel’s expression softened.

  At the sight of her warm face, a dam broke within Ephraim. The words rushed out of him. He told her everything, absolutely everything, that had happened since he’d left her at the stir-off.

  “So a monster really did chase you and the Fletcher boys through the woods?”

  “Yeah. Nancy said it was a hellhound.” Ephraim held up his arm. “I got the bite marks right here.”

  “And this stranger you keep seeing—you think he’s the Devil?”

  Ephraim shrugged. “That’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”

  “I think I saw him too,” Isabel said.

  “What? Where?”

  “At the Ewings’ stir-off, after you left. And again at church. He sat next to me, then left when Reverend Boggs asked who he was. It was strange. He smelled really bad.” She sat up straight. “Wait a minute—he asked me about you. He asked for your name.”

  A chill ran over Ephraim. “Why?”

  Isabel shook her head. “He didn’t say.”

  Talking to Isabel was comforting. Ephraim felt like he should be more concerned about all that was going on, but somehow, just telling Isabel about it all seemed like a step in the right direction, the seed of a solution. He remembered the last time he saw her, dancing with Peyton. It seemed like years had passed since then.

  “I’m sorry I left the stir-off like I did,” he said.

  “What upset you?” Isabel asked.

  “I thought you were vexed because I didn’t hold your hand. I was goin’ to, but then I saw your pa watchin’ me.”

  Isabel laughed. “He wouldn’t have said anything. Why’d you think I was vexed?”

  Ephraim stared at the ground, his face turning red. “Because you danced with Peyton instead of me on the last dance.”

  “Ephraim, I was just being polite. Aunt Eliza told me a lady never turns down a dance.” She picked up a corner of her coffee-sack apron. “A lady never does this either,” she said with a grin, and blew her nose on the apron.

  Ephraim laughed.

  Isabel sniffed. “So what happened to Jubal Early?”

  “What about him?”

  Ephraim looked at the sun. It was sinking in the west. Why hadn’t Nancy returned yet? His mind instantly began to play out dreadful scenes: his mother dying, or already dead. I can’t let her die without sayin’ goodbye, he thought. I’m the only family she’s got left.

  “Everyone thinks he’s the one that let you out of jail.”

  “What? No, it wasn’t him. It was Reverend Boggs,” Ephraim said distractedly. “He gave Jubal some drugged coffee. It put him to sleep.”

  “Well, where’d Jubal go then? Nobody’s seen him since he was guarding the jail.”

  Ephraim shook his head. “I don’t know.” An ache radiated from his bandaged arm. It spread through his bones with the intensity of a sore tooth in a winter breeze. He groaned and pulled his arm in tight to his stomach, pressing it there with his uninjured arm.

  Isabel’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s this hellhound bite. It’s really hurtin’ all of a sudden.” He held it tight until the ache dulled. Then he lowered his arm and got to his feet. “Listen, Isabel. I think I need to go see Ma.”

  “Are you crazy? Everyone is looking for you!”

  “I’m really worried about her. Nancy should’ve been back by now. Look, it’ll be dark soon. I made it out of town without anyone catchin’ me; I can sneak back in. Will you wait here for Nancy in case we don’t cross paths?”

  “Ephraim, the Henson family is all here, and the only business they’ve got in Sixmile Creek is to find you and hang you.”

  Ephraim sighed and rubbed his arms. “I know that.” He felt himself starting to choke up. “But Isabel, my ma is probably dyin’ up at the cabin. I’ve got to see her. This might be the last time…” He blinked away tears.

  Isabel sighed. “I’ll pray that no one catches you, and yes, I’ll wait for Nancy.”

  Ephraim grabbed her hands in his. “Thank you. There’s only a few folks left in this town I can trust: Nancy, the reverend, and you.”

  Isabel’s cheeks flushed pink. She lowered her eyes. “Just don’t do anything stupid, Ephraim. Don’t take any risks you don’t have to.”

  “I won’t,” he said, releasing her hands.

  “And if you make it back there, don’t forget to get your shoes,” Isabel said, pointing at Ephraim’s bare feet.

  20

  Shallow Grave

  Isabel took a shaky breath and began pacing through the dry grass. This would have to be kept secret. Not even her parents could know that she’d found Ephraim. But it was such a relief to know he was still alive. If only there was a way to get that hat back from Lester Ewing.
/>   She stepped over a patch of disturbed earth. She kicked at it absently, scuffing away a swath of loose soil. Something white poked through, and Isabel knelt to examine it. She took the object between her fingers and pulled, then released it with a gasp.

  A human finger protruded from the dirt, stark and pale as a drowned earthworm.

  21

  Ma

  Ephraim skirted the settlement, sticking to game trails, as he made his way toward Laurel Knob. He slowed his pace when he neared his cabin. Nancy’s warning echoed in his mind: the Hensons probably expected him to try to visit Ma.

  He crept toward the cabin, darting from tree to tree. For caution’s sake, he waited just inside the tree line for a few minutes, watching the yard. The yard was empty, and he saw nothing to alarm him, but still he waited.

  Finally, he lowered himself onto his belly and slithered through the dry weeds to the smokehouse. As he reached it, his arm suddenly swelled with a throbbing ache, even worse than it had before. He had to press his back against the smokehouse wall and grit his teeth. He would need to tell Nancy that the poultice wasn’t working.

  When he’d caught his breath, he rose and ran to the door of the cabin. He laid his ear against it, and heard the creak of his mother’s rocking chair. Was that Nancy, or someone else?

  Ephraim tiptoed around the side of the cabin and peered out at the hitching post. When he saw Reverend Boggs’s buckskin pony tethered there, quietly munching oats from a feedbag, his heart leaped. But if Boggs was here, where was Nancy?

  He returned to the cabin door, took a deep breath, and pushed it open.

  Reverend Boggs sat in the rocking chair next to Ma’s bed, his Bible open in his lap. He looked at the door as it opened, then did a double take.

  “Ephraim! Where have you been, son?”

  Ephraim stepped inside and barred the door behind him. “I went to find Barefoot Nancy. I had to try to—” He was cut off when the reverend rose to embrace him.

  “I wondered if that was what you’d done.” Boggs held Ephraim by both shoulders and looked into his face. “You’ve arrived just in time. I don’t think your mother is going to last much longer.”

  Ephraim felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. He rushed to the bed. His mother’s face looked ashen, and the rise and fall of her chest was barely discernible. He knelt down and took her hand. It was cold and sweaty.

  “Ma, I’m here.”

  She didn’t respond.

  Ephraim’s mouth went dry. He turned to Boggs. “Where’s Barefoot Nancy?”

  The reverend frowned. “I thought you said you went to find her.”

  “I did. She’s supposed to be here!”

  Boggs shook his head. “Ephraim, I’ve been here all afternoon. A few people from town have stopped by, but I haven’t seen Nancy.”

  Ephraim’s mind raced. Where had she gone? She knew that Ma was dying. Had the old woman forgotten?

  His mother squeezed his hand.

  Ephraim looked down. Ma’s eyes flickered behind their lids. She smiled feebly.

  The signs of life sent a tiny ray of hope into the jumble of Ephraim’s thoughts. Maybe they still had time. “Hang on, Ma. I’ll go find Barefoot Nancy. I’ll—”

  Ma’s eyes opened partway. She gripped Ephraim’s hand tighter, pulling him toward her. Her lips parted.

  Ephraim bent and put his ear next to her mouth. “What is it, Ma?”

  Her tongue worked mutely.

  Ephraim pulled back and looked at her again. Her eyes were fully open now, lucid. “That’s it, Ma. Hang on! I’m goin’ to find Nancy right now.”

  “Josiah?” The question escaped his mother’s lips like a moth fluttering through the crack of a closing door. A name from the grave.

  “No, Ma. It’s me, Ephraim.”

  She closed her eyes. Her hand went limp in his.

  “Ma?” Ephraim gripped his mother’s shoulders and shook. “Ma. Wake up!”

  He gathered her limp body into his arms. She felt lighter than he’d expected. He turned to Boggs. “You’ve got to help me! Let’s get her to Nancy.”

  The preacher removed his hat and held it over his chest. “Ephraim, I think—”

  “Just do it!”

  Boggs lowered his gaze. “Your mother has passed, Ephraim.”

  Ephraim looked as his mother’s still face, and he knew the reverend spoke the truth. Tears filled his eyes, running onto his cheeks.

  Reverend Boggs put an arm around Ephraim’s shoulders. “It was the Lord’s will.”

  Ephraim hugged his mother close. His sobbing grew stronger, until his whole body shook. “Why didn’t Nancy come?” he asked his mother’s still form.

  Boggs sighed. “I can’t judge you for seeking help. In a time of weakness, we will look to any source for hope. It’s human frailty, Ephraim.”

  Ephraim lowered his mother back onto the bed.

  “I mourn for your loss, son, and as much as I’d like to leave you here to grieve, this town is crawling with people looking for you. When I came up here to look in on your mother, there were three of the Henson men watching the place. I asked them to respect a dying woman and leave.”

  “I don’t care anymore,” Ephraim said. The worst had already happened. His fears had come true. He was alone now, the last of the Cutler line.

  “I won’t listen to that kind of talk,” Boggs said. “There are still people in this town who care about you, Ephraim, and I’m one of them. There’s hope for you yet.”

  22

  An Unsettling Notion

  Nancy appeared in the clearing behind the store just as the sun disappeared beyond the mountains. Her gaze immediately fell on Isabel.

  “Where’s Ephraim?”

  “He left to go see his ma a little before sundown,” Isabel said. She had stayed as far from the dead finger as possible. If hadn’t been for her promise to Ephraim, she would’ve left the woods immediately after discovering it.

  Nancy shook her head. “That boy is a tomfool lunatic! He’s goin’ to get hisself hanged!”

  “I told him not to go, but he was real worried about his ma.”

  “Those Hensons are watchin’ the entire town. They saw me headed up to the Cutler place and asked all kinds of questions. It was like they knew he’d come to see me. I had to make up some cock ’n’ bull story ’bout how I heard Lucretia needed doctorin’.” Nancy sighed. “I best go try to find out what’s become of that boy.”

  Isabel put a hand on the old woman’s shoulder. “Nancy, before you go, there’s something you should take a look at. I’m too scared to do it myself.”

  The granny woman’s hazel eyes disappeared into the folds of a smile. She took Isabel’s hand between her own. “Aw, honey, ye ain’t the first young lady to come to ol’ Nancy because you’re afeared you’re bleedin’ to death.”

  Isabel’s face reddened. “No, Nancy, I—”

  “Why, I even knowed a few that took up sayin’ extry prayers every day to get right with the Lord afore they passed on.” Nancy chuckled. She patted Isabel’s hand. “It ain’t nothin’ to worry ’bout, every woman since Eve has been afflicted with it. Just get yourself a rag to stop the flow, and it’ll clear up soon enough.”

  “Nancy, I didn’t mean… I wasn’t talking about…” Isabel felt thoroughly flushed now. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I think there’s a body buried in the ground yonder.”

  Nancy’s eyebrows shot up. “A body! Why didn’t ye say so, dear?”

  Isabel led the granny woman across the clearing. They stopped and peered down at the finger.

  Nancy pushed up her sleeves and squatted by the lifeless appendage, her braids dangling as she examined it. She gnawed on her bottom lip, tugged on the finger, then brushed loose soil from around it until a pale hand was visible. “My dear, I believe you’re right. Go get us some sticks so we can clear this dirt away.”

  “You want to dig it up?” Isabel’s heart beat faster at the very thought.

  “Ain�
��t no other way to see who it is,” Nancy said. She looked up. “Whoever this is, they cain’t hurt us in the shape they’re in, dear. Go on now, get them sticks.”

  Isabel fetched two long branches from the woods. Working together, the two women loosed the dirt and swept it away from the corpse. Once they’d unearthed it, they stood over the head for a closer look.

  Jubal Early’s face had been flattened. His nose was broken and his lips were thick and black.

  Nancy gave a low whistle. “My lands! What happened to this feller?” She lifted one of her bare feet and scratched at the sole. “I wonder who he ran afoul of.”

  Isabel stared at the body. A dark realization crept over her. “I think I know.”

  Nancy cocked an eyebrow. “Who?”

  Isabel took a step back. “Reverend Boggs.”

  Nancy pursed her lips. “There ain’t a doubt in my mind that somethin’ ain’t right with that preacher, but I never reckoned he was killin’ folks in the woods between sermons. How do ye figure?”

  Isabel took a deep breath. “Did Ephraim tell you that Reverend Boggs helped him get out of jail?”

  “He did.”

  “Jubal was guarding the jail that night, but he went missin’ along with Ephraim. Everybody in town thinks Jubal helped him escape.”

  Nancy looked back at the body. “That so?”

  “Ephraim told me that Boggs drugged Jubal, put him to sleep, so he could get Ephraim out of the jailhouse.”

  “You’re sayin’ that the last folks to see this poor feller alive was Ephraim and the preacher?”

  “Yes. Now, think about this. Who’d have a reason to kill Jubal? You could say Ephraim did, because he wanted to escape, but Boggs had drugged Jubal, so there was no need.”

  Nancy nodded slowly. “But Ol’ Boggs wouldn’t want nobody tellin’ the town that he let Ephraim out.”

  “Exactly. So he took Ephraim home, then went back to the jail, dragged Jubal out here, and killed him.”

  Nancy rubbed her chin and looked toward Laurel Knob. “I ain’t one to go and swaller an idea without chewin’ on it some, but if this’s true, then I just had me an unsettlin’ notion.”