Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River]

by River of Tomorrow

  Mercy’s mind ran rampant over the events of the last two days, especially about the runaway horse that charged down the trail toward them and the two men who were waiting to kill Daniel. She looked around for her brothers.

  “Where’s Lenny and Bernie?”

  “On the porch, I think,” Mike said.

  Mercy went quickly to the porch. “Lenny,” she called, “are you and Bernie out here?”

  Lenny got up from where he sat on the porch, leaning against the house. “We’re here.”

  “Why don’t you come in?” She went to them. “Please, come in. Let me fix you something to eat.”

  “We ain’t hungry.”

  “Damn you! You’ve got to be. You haven’t eaten all day.”

  “We had somethin’ this mornin’.”

  “Don’t you dare leave without talking to Daniel.”

  “He might not be talkin’ fer a while. We got ta be gettin’ on back.”

  “Not for a day or two. Please, Lenny. Daniel will want to know as much as you can tell him about the men who were trying to kill him. He’ll want to know if you had anything to do with a big gray horse that came running toward us yesterday.”

  “Oh, that.” Lenny grinned and glanced at his brother. “Bernie stung him a bit with his slingshot. The feller ridin’ ’em flew off’n him like he was a bird.”

  “Was he waiting . . . for us?”

  “I dunno. He was in the bushes. Bernie didn’t think it’d hurt none ta upseat him.”

  “Oh, you two are the damnedest—”

  “Ya ain’t ort ta swear, Hester,” Lenny said sharply.

  “I’ll swear if I want to! I’ll swear every day for the rest of my life if you don’t come in. It’s . . . it’s only good manners to accept your Sister’s hospitality.”

  “If’n yore goin’ to make a big to-do about it, I guess we got to. C’mon, Bernie,” he said as if he were being led to his hanging.

  Mercy opened the door and preceded them into the house. They came in behind her with their peaked hats in their hands, their wild strawlike hair looking very much like sloppy haystacks, and their eyes on the floor.

  “Gavin, Eleanor, I want you to meet my brothers. Lenny and Bernie Baxter. These are my friends, Mr. and Mrs. McCourtney.”

  Gavin stepped forward and offered his hand. “Howdy. It’s pleased I am to be knowin’ ye.” His huge hand swallowed first Bernie’s, then Lenny’s, and he shook them vigorously.

  Both Baxters murmured, “Likewise.” But they were eying Eleanor’s porcelain, doll-like beauty, as if she were something not quite real. Gavin was used to his wife’s effect on men, and his craggy face broke into smiles.

  “This little hunk of hair and bone is me wife. She ain’t nothin’ like what she looks. She’s meaner than a dog with his tail in a crack. I keep her in line by whippin’ her hinder two, three times a day.”

  Eleanor held on to her husband’s arm with her two hands and smiled sweetly at Mercy’s brothers.

  “Don’t ye be believing the likes a him. He be nothin’ but a Scot with an Irish gift a gab,” she said, mocking Gavin’s Scottish accent to perfection, then gave him a saucy grin.

  The brothers looked even more uncomfortable, their eyes going from the big man to his small, beautiful wife. A deep laugh rumbled up out of Gavin.

  “I heard Mercy say ye ain’t et,” Gavin said. “My wife will be fixin’ ye somethin’. She not be much ta look at, but she can cook.”

  “Ah . . . huh . . . no. We don’t need nothin’.”

  “If my big, ugly husband says eat, you’d better eat.” Eleanor’s tinkling laugh was infectious. The brothers grinned bashfully and followed her to the kitchen.

  “I’m going to sit with Daniel, Gavin. Don’t let my brothers leave. They just might disappear without me thanking them. I owe them so much.”

  “Nora’ll be seein’ to them. Why don’t ye rest, lassie? There be plenty here to sit with Dan’l.”

  “I’ll sit with him while you change your dress. Then I’ll put it in a tub of cold water to soak.” Tennessee spoke from the doorway.

  When Mercy came back down from her room in the loft, she could hear Eleanor talking to her brothers in the kitchen, heard their low, hesitant voices answering, and then Eleanor’s laugh.

  “You’ll have to bring in some firewood, Lenny, if I’m going to heat up this old stove. It’s right outside the door. You’re not getting by without doing anything, Bernie. Take the lantern and go out to the smokehouse and get a slab of bacon.”

  Mercy listened long enough to hear Lenny and Bernie scrambling to obey Eleanor’s sweet-spoken commands before she went into the room where Daniel lay. She stood beside Tennessee’s chair and placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder. Tennessee’s arm came around her thighs, and Mercy leaned against her.

  “Oh, Tenny! We were so happy when we left Evansville this morning. We could hardly wait to get home and tell everyone our news. We were going to stay here tonight, and I was going out to the farm tomorrow. When I think how close those bullets came to—”

  “Don’t think about it. He’s going to need you tomorrow . . . or rather, today. It’ll be morning soon. Why don’t you lie down beside him and rest? There’s plenty of room. I’ll be here to call you the minute he wakes up.”

  “Tenny, I’ve got so much to tell you, I don’t know where to start. It all began to happen after you and Eleanor left to go to Vincennes. Oh, how I wished you were here.”

  “I know. Mike told us part of it. The rest can wait until you’re rested. Lie down. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Mercy went to the other side of the bed and stretched out beside her husband. Just that morning she had lain in his arms and they had been so full of life and plans. She reached for his hand, held it in both of hers, and stared at his profile. Until today she had not seen him lying down or sleeping. He was always big, strong, taking care of her. Now she would take care of him.

  Mercy closed her eyes, intending to rest them for a moment. Fatigue overtook her and she went to sleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Mike and Gavin sat at the table drinking coffee; Eleanor was at the end, busily writing a letter to Farr and Liberty Quill.

  “The sooner we get this letter to Farr, the better.” Mike watched Tennessee move noiselessly into the room, pick up the brew she had made for Daniel, and leave.

  “I wish we be knowin’ if Perry had a hand in shootin’ Daniel.”

  “It all happened mighty sudden for him not to have. Who else would have wanted to get inside the mill and kidnap George? If they were just after Negroes to work their damn salt mine, they could have taken any Negro they saw in the fields. They wanted George because it would hurt Farr and Daniel. Poor Turley. There was no reason to kill him. That Perry is a crazy man! He hired someone to kill Daniel because he sent him on a wild-goose chase after Levi Coffin. That’s how I see it.”

  “Ye may be right, but what’s it got to do with Knibee? Nora heard Turley say the mon’s name.”

  “What did you find out when you rode out to his place?”

  “Nothin’. His woman said he be in Springfield. The looks on his younguns’ faces said it was news to them.” Gavin drained his cup. “Meanwhile I got no idey where to look for George. I feel like I be lettin’ the lad down jist sittin’ here.”

  Eleanor looked up. “Someone’s got to run the mill, Gavin. Wait until Farr gets here, or until Daniel is well enough to talk. He may have some idea where Perry would have taken George.”

  “Nora, me love, tend to yer writin’. I be doin’ my own decidin’ ’bout what to do.” Gavin spoke to his wife with a note of exasperation in his voice, but Eleanor didn’t seem to notice. She continued to write.

  “I can’t tell it all. Oh, won’t Liberty be surprised to learn that Mercy and Daniel are married. It’s what she hoped for. Not that she ever said . . . exactly. But I could tell—”

  “Who did ye say ye would be sendin’ to Vandalia with the letter?” Gavin looke
d up to see Mike’s eyes following Tennessee as she moved from Daniel’s room to go up the stairs to the loft.

  “Quentin Burgess,” Mike said absently. After Tennessee disappeared, he added, “That crazy kid of Old Man Burgess’s. He’d ride to hell and back for a price. I’ll pay him half now, and half when he gets back. That’ll keep him honest.”

  “It’s done.” Eleanor sprinkled sand on the paper to dry the ink. “I told Farr about Perry coming here, about Daniel and Mercy going to Kentucky, about George and Turley, and about Daniel getting shot. And the wedding.”

  “Ye was bound ta not forget that, was ye? Weddin’s and birthin’s is all-fired important, huh, lass?” Gavin laughed at the face Eleanor made at him. She knew to what he was referring. They had not told anyone other than Tennessee that Eleanor was expecting a baby. The news was so wonderful, they were keeping it to themselves to savor for a while.

  Eleanor carefully folded the paper, sealed it with wax, and passed it down the table to Mike.

  “If I can get Quentin started with this, Farr will have it by late tonight.” Mike put the paper in his pocket and got to his feet. “I’ll look in on Daniel before I go.”

  Daniel and Mercy were still sleeping. Tennessee, coming into the room, responded to a touch on her hand and followed Mike out onto the porch.

  “What chances does he have?” Mike asked.

  “Good, unless fever sets in or the flesh starts to rot.”

  “You look tired.”

  “I’ll sleep when Mercy wakes up.”

  Mike took her hand. “Did you see the ring on Mercy’s finger?” Tennessee nodded wordlessly. “Someday there’ll be a ring on your finger like that.” He squeezed her hand and hurried away, as if he feared what she would say.

  Tennessee stood on the porch in the early-morning light and watched him. What did he mean? A great wave of joy washed over her. Oh, she prayed, let it mean what she hoped it meant. She waited until he was out of sight before she went back into the house.

  * * *

  The day was one of the longest Mercy had ever known. Daniel roused at intervals to drink water or when the warm poultices of slippery elm were applied to his wounds. Bernie had brought a supply of reeds, and Mercy ran her knitting needle through them to hollow them out so that Daniel could drink without raising his head. Eleanor made a broth, and Mercy spooned it into his mouth. He drank cup after cup of the tea Tennessee brewed from her supply of dried, powdered ginseng root.

  The townspeople began to appear on the doorstep as soon as the news spread that Daniel had been shot. Eleanor, gracious as usual, thanked them for their concern, accepted the offers of food, refused their offers to sit with the sick, and most of them were smiling when they left the Quill House.

  Granny Halpen was not to be put off by one who accepted her honey cake but who refused her the full details of what had happened to the two who left town under darkness of the night.

  “Mercy and Daniel took a belated honeymoon to Kentucky, that’s all,” Eleanor said sweetly. “They were married last Christmas, but Mercy wanted to keep it a secret because of those silly old school people who thought married women shouldn’t teach.”

  “Humph!” Granny snorted. “Why didn’t she tell ’em she was proper wed?”

  “Pride. Now, Granny, you’d have gotten your back up, too, if you’d been accused of fornicating with your own husband. Mercy just made up her mind that if the people here wanted their children to be ignorant, it was their decision. She and Daniel decided to use the time to go visit her real family. They are rich plantation owners down in Kentucky, you know. On the way home they were waylaid by robbers. Now isn’t that just a cryin’ shame?”

  “Humph! It ain’t what I heard. It ain’t what I heard a-tall.”

  “Well, now you know the truth of it, and we would just be ever so grateful if you’d set folks straight.” Eleanor smiled her friendliest smile. “Liberty and Farr will be pleased to know you’re concerned for Daniel. They’ll be coming home soon, and I shall tell them about this lovely honey cake you brought in our hour of need. ’Bye, Granny.”

  Eleanor closed the door, leaned against it, and held her hand to her mouth to keep from giggling until after the old lady left the porch. The sight of Eleanor, doubled up with giggles, afforded Mercy her first smile of the day.

  Jasper and Gus came from Daniel’s farm in the late afternoon. They stood at the back door, their hats in their hands, worried looks on their faces. Mercy went to talk to them to assure them that everything was being done for Daniel that could be done. A big, coal-black woman with a white cloth tied around her head, fat cheeks, and large, intelligent eyes, stood beside them. She listened intently to everything Mercy said. The big wicker basket she carried was loaded.

  “My woman comed ta help Mistah Dan.”

  “Hello, Minnie.”

  “Yess’m.”

  “Daniel has told me what a good cook you are. I’ll be coming out to the farm to live when he’s . . . better. We were married a few days ago.”

  “Wedded! Lawsy! A wife is jist what dat boy need.” Her wide mouth spread into a smile.

  “I’m glad you came, Minnie. We can use your help. Thank you for bringing her, Gus. When Daniel wakes up, shall I tell him that things are going well at the farm?”

  “Yess’m. Plantin’ is done. We help Jeems get his plantin’ done, ’n’ we make a pen fer Gerrit, like Mistah Dan say.”

  “I’ll tell him. Maybe in a few days you can come back and talk to him.”

  “Yess’m.”

  “Come in, Minnie.” Mercy went back into the house.

  “Ya watch them younguns, Gus,” Minnie called. “Make ’em mind. I be home when Mistah Dan don’t need me no more.”

  Minnie put her basket on the table and looked around at the neat kitchen. She liked what she saw and smiled again.

  “I brung Mistah Dan vittles what he like—hominy grits, greens with fatback, and sweet-tater pie.”

  “He’s not eating much right now. Jeems put the morning milking in the springhouse, Minnie. I expect it’s ready to churn. He’ll be bringing the evening milking before long. Before you start something, would you like to say hello to Daniel? He’ll be glad to know you came to help us.”

  “I sure would, missy. Dat boy, he is as close ta my heart as my own younguns.”

  Mercy sat down in the chair beside the bed and took Daniel’s hand. He turned his head carefully and looked at her.

  “You’re awake again. Are you thirsty?”

  “I’m about to float away, honey. I need . . . something . . .”

  “I’ll get it in just a moment. Look who’s come to help us. Minnie is here and she wants to say hello.”

  “Howdy, Mistah Dan. It do be a shame yo is laid low after ya done got yo-self a wife. Minnie been tellin’ ya to do dat. We gots ta get ya on ya feet, so’s ya can make us some babies. Ain’t dat right, little missy?”

  “Everything all right at the farm, Minnie?”

  “Farm’s fine. Younguns is all fine. Rosie lookin’ after ’em while I comed ta take care of ya.”

  “My wife will appreciate your help.”

  “Ya got ta pee, does ya, Mistah Dan? Don’t ya fret none. I brin’ ya somethin’ ’n’ ya can pee right where yo is at. I be right back.”

  She flounced from the room, her big hips going up and down beneath the loose shift. Daniel’s eyes caught Mercy’s to see how she reacted to Minnie’s blunt speech.

  “Are you worried that I’m shocked? Don’t be. I might have been a few weeks ago but not now. Gus and Jasper brought Minnie over. They said to tell you everything is all right out at the farm. The planting is done, they’ve helped Jeems, and they’ve built a pen for Gerrit.”

  “I want them . . . to be careful. Tell them not to leave the farm. We . . . don’t know what Perry is up to.”

  “I’ll tell them, and Jeems too.”

  Minnie bustled in with a jar in her hand, her loose slippers flapping against the floor when she wa
lked.

  “Minnie’ll take care a Mistah Dan’s hind end till he get well,” she said firmly, and went to the other side of the bed and flipped up the cover. “After dat, he be wantin’ yo sweet little hands on ’em. Ain’t dat right, boy?” She laughed, her belly jiggled up and down, and her red mouth opened wide, showing white teeth.

  Daniel looked at Mercy and grinned sheepishly. She leaned over and kissed him, then whispered, “I guess you’re not wanting my sweet little hands on you now. I’ll be back when you’re not so busy.”

  * * *

  Mercy called on all the reserve strength she possessed as the hours passed. Night came and dragged by slowly, with Mercy and Tennessee taking turns at Daniel’s bedside. The morning of a new day arrived, then noon, afternoon, and another long night. Mercy’s heart almost stopped each time Tennessee removed the bandages from Daniel’s wounds and stooped to smell the puckered flesh. Each time she stood and smiled reassuringly, Mercy’s heart thudded with relief.

  Daniel gritted his teeth at the pain and endured the discomfort of having his knee boosted on a pile of pillows. His leg felt as if it were being pricked with a thousand needles each time he moved it. He ate what the women brought him to eat, and drank the vile potion Tennessee brewed without complaint.

  By the morning of the third day, Gavin took Eleanor home, and the house settled into a routine. Minnie was capable of doing enormous amounts of work despite her large size. Daniel was comfortable with her and didn’t hesitate to ask for her when he had to perform his bodily functions.

  Lenny and Bernie came into the bedroom and stood beside Daniel’s bed. Mercy was with them.

  “Lenny and Bernie want to go home. They’ve come to tell you good-bye.”

  “I was hoping you would stay until I’m on my feet. I want to thank you proper for what you did.”

  “Ain’t no more’n what anybody’d done,” Lenny said, twisting his hat around in his hand. “Me ’n’ Bernie want ya ta know we ain’t a bit sorry fer gettin’ Cousin Farley ta wed ya up ta Sister. It was somthin’ what had ta be did. But we ain’t wantin’ no hard feelin’s over it.”