Crash! Thunder rolled over them, a simultaneous flash of million-watt white light totally illuminating the trees and ground around them. James turned around and realized what was wrong. “The horses!” he yelled. He heard them whinny again, but they were no longer under the tree just a few yards away, but were galloping, their frightened protests now indistinct—muffled by distance as they headed away.
Leah was suddenly alert—no longer foggy-headed or disoriented. She knew who she was and where she was, and at the word ‘horses,’ was on her feet. She ran toward the small glade and the sounds of nickering and foot stamping, but couldn’t see the runaways. A bang and then a flash, and the landscape lit up again. The geldings had panicked and were running away at full speed. Another bang and flash, and she saw it. One of the horses was prancing, lifting his legs high as he danced around the hobbling rope that had come unknotted. “Shit!” she screamed.
James knew better than to run after her. He hastily dressed and waited for her return. She came back, buck-naked and beautiful, with a static-electricity charged Medusa hairstyle.
And extremely pissed.
He didn’t say a word. He knew the horses must have come un-hobbled and that was why they were able to run away so quickly. And she was the one who had tied the ropes around their fetlocks.
The thunder and lightning continued, but the time interval between the flashes and the cracks grew. “One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand,” he counted softly. “Three miles away now and headed away from us,” he announced. “I’m sure we’ll be fine, with or without the horses. Come on, get your clothes on. The flies will be out at sunrise and they bite. I’d offer to make coffee, but I don’t want to use up the water. Will you be okay?”
Leah glared at him then softened her look. “No,” she said, then changed her mind. “Maybe,” she grunted. She slipped on her bra, picked up her dress, shook it out and threw it over her head, and started buttoning it. “Yeah, probably.” She sniffed then started to cry softly. “Damn, it’s all my fault!” she exploded with exasperation.
“No, it’s the thunder’s fault. And we both know who’s in charge of that,” James said, looking up. “Maybe the Man thought we needed another challenge. I mean really, this has been relatively easy so far. Come on, this will toughen us up.”
“Yeah, what doesn’t kill us will cure us…or something like that,” she grumbled. “And, well, I like winning the race; it’s just the running that sucks. You’re right, though, I’m sure we’ll be fine. At least, the clouds are moving away. Hopefully, we’ll be able to see which way is east now. Come on. Let’s look at the map together. I’m pretty sure I’ll feel better if I have something tangible to focus on.” Leah wiped her face with the back of her hand, then pulled her hair back into a bun, using her green lacquered pick to hold it in place.
“You sure are beautiful,” James said. He shook his head back and forth slowly in amazement. “How did I wind up with someone so great?” He leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on her lips.
Leah, feeling insecure about her morning mouth, only gave him a token kiss in return, then pulled back. She rolled her eyes and answered with a heavy dose of sarcasm, “My mother was already taken.”
She saw the immediate hurt in his eyes and backpedaled quickly. “I’m sorry. I’m lousy at making jokes. I didn’t mean it. Really, I didn’t. I…I…I promise never to bring it up again, okay?”
James shut his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, making sure he thought about what he was going to say before blurting out how cruel she was to say such a thing. He opened his eyes and nodded. It was better to say nothing than something wrong.
“Breakfast?” he asked, changing the subject. He picked up her backpack. “Granola or protein bar?”
“Protein bar,” Leah said glumly. “The granola is too salty and will make us thirsty...thirstier.” She looked up and saw the pink shades of dawn creeping into the sky. “Hey, look!” She pointed to the east. “See, things are starting to look better already.”
James used his cane to steady himself as he sat down to put on his socks and shoes. He was still hurt by Leah’s joke about how she thought her mother was more attractive to him than her, even though she was—or had been—an older woman. He sighed as he realized that if the misunderstood conversation had been reversed, he’d want her to forgive and forget quickly.
“Here, let me,” Leah said, and squatted down to finish tying his shoes. “And I don’t know why you think you did something special to get me. It’s me who was blessed with you.” She grinned then did a double pop of her eyebrows. “And I’ll show you just how much I really appreciate you when you get enough blood built up to nourish both heads at the same time.”
James reached over and ran his hand down the side of her dusty, tear-stained face. “The biggest blessing is to know how much you’ve been blessed, and boy, don’t I know it. Come on, help me to my feet. Let’s walk into the sunrise and see if there’s a town underneath it with someone who knows where to find the Pomeroys.”
“Amen to that,” Leah said, as she grabbed his elbow to help him to stand. “A double amen.”
***57 New Folks in Town
Gibsonville, NC
It really wasn’t much of a town—just a small tavern, a blacksmith shop, and a general store. They had only seen one person on their way in, but chose not to engage the old man and ask him directions to the Pomeroys’. They simply smiled as they passed. The town was now in sight, and he hadn’t looked too friendly anyway.
“ʽNever speak when you can nod,’ Marty used to tell me. It could be dangerous if we said the wrong thing. Of course, then there’s my accent. I don’t know if I can do an American accent on a consistent basis. People around here are probably still anti-British.”
Leah wasn’t too sure about that. A large majority of these early Americans were from England. She decided not to waste her time—and her breath—with arguing the point, though. Instead, she’d be extra cautious and do all the talking, at least with first contacts.
The tavern sign was a welcome sight. Real food, and maybe a beer, would be great. They were both thirsty and their water bottles were empty. The tree-lined creek at the far end of town was visible from where they stood, but they both wanted something closer and more substantial. As they neared the steps of the little tavern, they noticed a rough-hewn log had been set up diagonally across the door, barring entrance. “I guess that means it’s closed,” James huffed in disappointment.
“Do you have enough energy to get to the creek?” she asked tentatively.
She was exhausted, but he had to be even more so because of donating blood. He needed fluids and real food. He needed rest, too, but hadn’t been able to get much of that on their two-day trek either. The snacks in her backpack had been enough to get them this far, but they only had one protein bar and a double fistful of granola left. If they could get food locally, they could keep the emergency stash. Hopefully, someone here knew the way to the Pomeroy homestead and it wasn’t far.
“On second thought, you stay here in the shade. I’m going to check out the store. Maybe they have something that’s easy to prepare, or better yet, ready to eat. I doubt they sell ready-made sandwiches and bottles of beer around here, but it sure would be nice.”
James leaned back against the building with a thud, then slid to the ground. He was spent, but hated to look like a slacker, letting his woman investigate the new town while he sat and waited. “I’ll be right here where you left me,” he said wryly, “unless someone wants an eighty-kilo doorstop.” He looked up to make sure she got the joke. She had. She bent over and kissed him on the top of the head.
“I still don’t know what I did to deserve you, mister. A more generous man I’ve never met. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Ӂ ӁӁ
The door to the store had been left open, probably waiting for a stray cool breeze—or any breeze at all—to come through. Leah looked around. Wooden barrels and bulging clot
h sacks were clustered on the floor in the corner, and glass jars of various sizes and colors sat haphazardly on the cattywumpus shelves. To the right of the door was a hand-rubbed and polished wooden display unit with a couple dozen iron pieces in it, a sharp contrast to the rest of the disorganized store. She recalled seeing some of the implements at the museum, but didn’t recall what they were. She shook her head, befuddled. Gee, I saw these only last week and still can’t remember what they’re used for.
She shuddered, then inhaled deeply, shoulders back, elbows in, trying to pull herself together emotionally. There shouldn’t be anything in here to be afraid of, so she’d put on her big girl pants and ignore the sudden prevalence of negative energy. As far as she could see, there was no one else in the store, but she’d check to make sure. “Hallo,” she called out, her voice shaking at first, then becoming stronger. “Is anyone here? Hallo, Hallo?”
A man stomped in through the outside door, wearing a glower that made her shiver despite the heat. “What do you want?” he demanded.
Leah was taken aback by his rudeness, but didn’t return the bad manners. “Do you work here?” she asked politely.
“No, I don’t! What? Do I look stupid? Nobody’s here, so go away,” he snarled. The short, scruffy man with the week-old beard wore clothes of a decent quality, but he was filthy from the top of his tri-corn hat to his dusty shoes, their pewter buckles dangling, ready to fall off. He may have been a well-to-do man once, but appeared to have recently—very recently—either fallen on hard times or off the wagon. He didn’t reek of alcohol, though, so it was probably the former.
“I just want to get some foodstuffs and maybe a couple bottles of ale. My husband and I lost our horses, and we’ve been walking for two days, trying to find…”
“The devil sent you, didn’t he? That’s why it’s been hot as hell all week—he’s been making it ready for you two demons. Well, we don’t want any part of you. But, if you have money or barter goods to prove that you’re not from the evil one, well, then we might let you pass through.”-
Leah was speechless at his ravings. The man kept referring to ‘we,’ but was alone…unless he had a six-foot Palooka next to him that Leah couldn’t see.
“What’s goin’ on in here?” grumbled a large-bellied man as he waddled into the store, followed by a very pale and sweaty James.
Leah immediately rushed to her husband. She pulled the handkerchief from her bodice, shook it out, and wiped the beads of sweat from his brow. “You need to sit down,” she said. She stood up under his shoulder and led him outside to the porch bench. Hopefully, the big man would take care of Mr. Rudeness.
“These two demons just came out of hell, meanin’ to take us all back with ‘em. Or even worse, they’ll lead old Scratch right here to us!” the town trouble maker, Richard Short, screamed. His loud voice brought people out from the shade of trees and porches to see what was going on.
“What? Are you crazy, Dick?” the big man asked. “And why would havin’ money and barter goods make them not from the devil? Shoot, if they had money, now that would be strange, not the other way around.”
“Then why’s it been so hot? Hey, Cyrus, didn’t your well jest about dry up out there?” Richard Short walked away from Bill and into the crowd, waving his arms wildly, as if he were battling a swarm of wasps, trying to work the now expanding group of citizens into a frenzy.
“These two are here to make way for the devil. If we don’t do somethin’ about ‘em now, the heat’ll never stop. Right, right?” he asked one shocked man, and then another, his scraggly face inches from theirs.
“Now hold on there, fella. Don’t be gettin’ hasty now. They’re just new folks in town, right?” Bill asked the young couple.
James put his arm around Leah’s shoulder. Despite the heat, she was shaking, but it was with fear. Neither of them had anticipated hostility.
“Yes, sir,” James said firmly, “we just arrived here to see family. However, we’re not sure where they are. We thought they were nearby, but it appears we were mistaken. Now, if we can’t get any supplies, we’d appreciate at least some water, and then we’ll be on our way.”
“Don’t let them near the creek!” the rabble rouser screamed, “They’re gonna poison it so we won’t have any water. First they got the wells, next they’ll take the creek!”
The man had gone off the deep end with his screaming and hat-waving, and was now dancing like his feet were on fire, jumping from one shocked bystander to another, blabbering about the devil, pointing at James and Leah.
“Evie?” an unfamiliar voice called out from behind them.
Leah and James turned to see who it was. A dark horse was being reined in to a halt, stirring up dust. “Evie? Evie, when did you leave?” The man was excited, standing tall in the stirrups, ready to dismount, even before coming to a full stop. “I wouldn’t think you should be traveling yet. How are you feeling? Huh…hey! You’re not Evie…” stammered an embarrassed Lord Julian Hart.
Before anyone else could speak, Big Bill Leuga walked up to Julian’s horse. “Julian, it looks like we’re havin’ a bit of a problem with that confounded Dick Short fella. He thinks these two are from the devil. He wanted money or trade goods from them before he’d let them go. Sound familiar?”
Julian nodded his head in disgust, but before he could speak or reply, Leah walked forward, as if in a trance, and addressed Bill. “Where did you get those shoes?” and pointed to the dirty, but still neon green, Croc slippers on the fat man’s feet.
“Oh, I did some tradin’ with Miss Evie. Hey, you do look like her. Is she your kin?” asked Bill.
“Yes, she’s her kin,” James answered for her, afraid that Leah would say something intimidating or politically incorrect in her current stunned state. He looked up at the man on the horse, the man whom the fat man had called Julian. “Julian Hart?” he asked softly and directly, not wanting anyone else to hear.
Julian sucked in a deep breath, realized that he was acting stressed—or guilty—so let it out softly with a smile and a quick, sharp nod. “Ah, Evie will be so happy that you’ve arrived. Excuse me,” he said, as he dismounted, “how rude of me. I’m Evie’s father-in-law. You can call me Julian.” Julian shot a glance over at James to tell him not to use last names right here and now. “If you would allow me, I’ll escort you to, um, your kin.”
“My name is James, and this is my wife, Leah. Do you happen to have some water? Mr. Short over there seems to think all the water in the creek belongs to him,” James said with unveiled disgust.
Julian wordlessly untied the canteen from the back of his saddle and put the strap in James’s hand. “Give me a moment, please,” he said, then turned around sharply.
The small crowd Richard ‘Dick’ Short had attracted was starting to dissipate, but that wasn’t what Julian wanted. He wanted to make a scene, to draw everyone’s attention to the problems the angry man kept creating. He had nearly caused his partner, José, to be killed earlier in the year and now was trying to wreak havoc on Evie’s family, too.
“This has got to stop right now,” he said, storming up to the trouble maker, grabbing him by the shoulder to turn him around, practically yelling in the crazy man’s face.
Dick kept backing away, but Julian moved forward, continuing his verbal attack. “You are being more than rude to newcomers and visitors to this area. You have attempted to extort goods from these two people who wanted nothing more than to get a drink of water from God’s creek. You do not own this property. You claim anyone new to this area is from the devil. If you knew your Bible, you would know you are supposed to love your neighbor, not threaten him. Now, if you do not cease and desist, we, the good citizens of Gibsonville and the surrounding areas, will have you forcefully removed from North Carolina and returned to England where the constables will take care of you and your lies and extortion. Do I make myself clear?”
Before Dick even had a chance to reply, the crowd responded. There were cheers and �
��you tell ‘im’s’ from the gathering that had regrouped when Julian started his tirade.
Julian wasn’t distracted by their presence, although he was aware of them. He was still face to face with the man who he could truly say he despised.
“Uh, all right,” Richard Short squeaked out. He paused, then asked, shoulders narrowed and face low, totally intimidated, “Can I go now?”
“You can go all the way back to England or Canada or…or hell, for all I care. Just don’t ever threaten anyone again or say that they’re from the devil, or you will have to deal with me. Do you understand?” Julian’s face was bright red from anger, although the heat didn’t help much. He turned away from the cowering excuse for a man, paused, then turned back to face him. “Is that your wagon?” he asked sharply.
“Yes,” Dick drawled, afraid of what Julian wanted.
“Good. I’ll be borrowing it for a bit. That is, if you don’t mind.” Julian said sarcastically, looking down his nose, as he finished his thinly veiled demand, daring the man to deny him the request.
“No, no, that’ll be fine,” Short said softly. “We can walk home, I guess.”
As Dick began walking away from the confrontation, several of the townspeople started jeering—taunting him as he tried to leave peacefully. Julian turned back on the group and eyed the offenders. “It’s over for today, folks. Leave the man be. He won’t be making the same mistakes.” Julian looked over at the man to make sure he had safe exit, then added, “Will you, Mr. Short?”
Dick didn’t say a word, but turned and nodded to Julian. He took off his hat again and gave a quick, short bow to both James and Leah. “Have a safe journey,” he mumbled, then turned back to scurry into the trees, now wanting to be invisible to the crowd he had caused to gather. “Come on, Harvey,” he called to the entity that no one but he could see, “let’s go home.”
Aye, I am a Fairy (The Fairies Saga Book 2) Page 48
