Reconstructing Jackson

by Bush, Holly

  “We did leave,” Henry said, evenly staring at Reed. “I forgot something and had to come back.”

  The cook noticed a pot of something boiling and hurried away.

  “Is there going to be trouble, Reed?” Henry asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “That pistol’s been wet, you’d be better off buying a new one at the Mercantile,” Henry said.

  Reed looked up at Henry. “Then someone would know I bought it.”

  Henry met Reed’s eyes and was quiet a moment. “Tell me if there’s something you need help with.”

  “I will.”

  “Henry,” Mary Ellen called as she came into the kitchen. “I’ve been waiting … Oh. Hello, Reed.”

  She stared at him, red-faced and clearly upset. “Mary Ellen,” Reed said with a nod. “I’ve come to buy a jar of the pickles your cook puts up. They are delicious, and I’ve been missing them as I’ve been missing my time here with you and Henry. But I fear you don’t feel the same.”

  Mary Ellen clasped her hands at her waist. “I won’t deny, Reed, I’ve been very angry with you. Beulah was a friend as well as an employee, and I miss her dearly. I am tired, so tired, of those in this town and elsewhere, still fighting the war. How could anyone consider a living, breathing, thinking human being somehow less than a whole person? I shall never understand it. But you did not kill her. And I imagine you felt you were doing your duty when you defended that person, even though you and I both know that he viciously murdered Beulah. You’re going to have to let me grieve, Reed, but you don’t deserve my bitterness.”

  “We will leave it at that then, Mary Ellen, and hope time allows us to heal,” he said. “I believe Belle is missing you, though. She has few friends and considered you one of them.”

  “You’re right, of course, Reed. I’ll call on her soon. Are you coming into town for the Founder’s Day activities?”

  “Dr. Lowell just invited us to his home. Perhaps we’ll see you there,” Reed said.

  “Capital!” Henry said and pulled Mary Ellen’s arm through his. “We’ll see you then. Now we must be off, or we will be late for the recital.”

  Bill Jenkins arrived later in the day with the pup. Nathan named the dog Patches, and they fell asleep together in front of the fireplace, even though Reed tried to insist the dog sleep outside. That night Reed waited till Nathan and Belle fell asleep to clean and oil the pistol. He’d found a box of bullets in one of the kitchen drawers, probably left from when Mr. Walker was alive. He would have to find a place to test the gun and practice although he had a limited supply of ammunition. Reed wondered if his worry was for naught. Maybe he was being overly suspicious as Belle said. But he was certain, absolutely certain, that someone had been watching Belle and Nathan as they sat on the tree stump in the yard on the day Jed was released.

  Reed began training Patches like he’d trained the hounds at Bristolwood and found the dog to be responsive and smart. Although generally attached to Nathan, the dog waited at the door in the evenings for Reed to come and for their walk together to commence. Reed taught the dog commands and practiced with the six-shooter when he and Patches followed a dirt path deep into the woods. Reed could not get further than a fallen tree blocking the path. It looked as though it had come down in a wind storm with broken limbs, but all the small branches had been cut away, he imagined by someone wanting good dried timber but unable to manage cutting the main tree trunk. He went to the tree often and Patches waited patiently while he pulled himself up and down out of his chair holding on to the broken limbs he used as elevating hand holds. He tentatively put some weight on the wooden leg which he wore regularly.

  One fall evening as Reed practiced getting in and out of his chair, he heard voices in the distance over the crest of the hill behind the fallen tree. The following day he took a fork in the main road he’d never ventured down. Not far was a turn onto a road that Reed recognized as the one Belle’s family farm sat on. He wheeled back to his tree path and thought about distances and angles. He was fairly certain that Belle’s family home sat over the crest of the ridge he was staring at and wondered if Jed took that very same path and cut away at some point in the undergrowth to come out in the vicinity of Belle’s kitchen garden.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Belle walked out of Dr. Lowell’s office on the first day of October as happy and excited as she’d ever been. She was expecting a baby. All her dreams seemed within her grasp. While Reed had been distracted since the trial, their everyday life had settled into a happy routine. Reed had more clients every day and was planning on adding a room to use as an office with an outside entrance the following spring if Mrs. Walker agreed to sell. Belle held Nathan’s hand and began down the sidewalk towards home. She couldn’t wait to tell Reed when he got back from the courthouse that day.

  When he had a room built for his office, he’d just have to add another room for Nathan and the baby. A baby! Belle heard someone calling her and turned.

  “Belle,” Mary Ellen said and waved. The two hugged when they were finally together on the busy street corner. “I had a wonderful time at your house last Saturday. You are such good cook!” She turned to Nathan. “And what a reader you are. To recite that poem all by yourself in front of the adults. You did very well.”

  “It was so nice that you came. It seemed like things would never get back to normal there for a while,” Belle said.

  “I know,” Mary Ellen said and looked at Belle sideways. “You look like the cat that ate the cream, Belle. What is it?”

  Belle smiled and then cried. “I’ve got to wait and tell Reed first.”

  Mary Ellen looked at the door to Dr. Lowell’s office that Belle had just come out of and her hands went to her face. “Is there a happy event coming in the spring? Oh, no. You must talk to Reed first. Then you must come directly to my house after supper.”

  Belle smiled, nodded and turned to go. “I’ll be there as soon as I’ve finished the dinner dishes.”

  * * *

  Reed rubbed his eyes and blew a breath. It was eight o’clock, and he’d just finished the work he’d promised to a new client. He was tired, his leg ached and his eyes burned from reading small print. Others were still working at the long tables set up for the mapping and transfers of deeds. He shoved all his books and papers in his satchel and wheeled out of the new Land Grant Office. Reed turned the corner and saw Henry trying to open the front door of the court house.

  “Henry! What are you doing? The courthouse closed hours ago,” Reed called across the street. Henry ran to him and stopped just shy of his chair. He was white faced and sweating. “What is it, Henry?”

  “It’s Belle. Mary Ellen found her. She’s alive, but she’s been beaten badly. Nathan is gone.”

  Reed turned his chair so quickly he nearly upended himself.

  “Put your hands in, Reed. I can push you faster than you can wheel,” Henry said and took off in a flurry, pushing Reed past ruts and mud holes. Reed held the arms of his chair to keep from flying out when Henry turned the last corner and Reed could see his home.

  “Who goes there?” he shouted to a figure going through his gate.

  “Jim Lowell, Reed. Henry sent me while he was searching for you. The sheriff will be here any minute.”

  Reed pushed past the two men and wheeled through his gate and charged through his back door. “Belle! Belle!” he shouted. He wheeled past broken china and chairs and saw a strip of Nathan’s plaid shirt caught on a rough floor board of the kitchen. “Belle!”

  He stopped dead at the doorway to his bedroom. Mary Ellen had apparently been able to get Belle on to the bed and was washing dried blood from her face. He hissed a breath. Belle’s face was a bloody mess, and both of her eyes were swollen closed. Her hand hung limply off the side of the bed and Reed could tell that two fingers were broken and blood ran from what looked like a stab wound above her wrist. Jim Lowell came behind him and went to the other side of the bed.

  “He doesn’
t know, Jim,” Mary Ellen said and worried her hands.

  “Go on out of here, Henry. Reed, you too. I’m going to examine your wife.”

  Reed started to protest, and Henry shushed him and wheeled him into the kitchen. Henry put a kitchen chair upright and sat down in it across from Reed and looked at him. “Belle’s expecting a child. Mary Ellen saw her as she come out of Jim’s office today. Belle wanted to tell you first, but Mary Ellen guessed. Belle said she’d come to the hotel as soon as the dinner dishes were done to share her news, and Mary Ellen got worried when Belle didn’t show up. That’s when she came out here and found her.”

  Reed was struggling to absorb everything. He looked around the kitchen, the violence overwhelming him. The door to his bedroom opened, and Reed hurried in.

  “Belle’s expecting your first child in the spring. It looks as though the baby is fine although the next thirty-six hours are critical.”

  “And Belle?”

  “Cuts, bruises, broken fingers, a stab wound and certainly a head concussion,” Lowell said. “She’s going to need complete bed rest.”

  Mary Ellen turned to Reed and tears poured down her cheeks. “He pulled a fistful of hair out of the side of her head. I imagine she was holding on to Nathan.”

  “Hello?” Reed heard from his kitchen door.

  “It’s the sheriff,” Henry said and went to the kitchen.

  Reed wheeled to Belle’s side. He touched her arm. “Belle. Belle, darlin’. Can you hear me?” His voice cracked, and he took a deep breath. “Belle, talk to me.”

  Belle’s head slowly turned towards him. Her left eye was open a slit and the white was red with broken vessels. Her lip trembled, and she made a crying, rasping noise that tore at Reed’s heart. “I’m going have a baby, Reed.”

  Reed nodded and concentrated on keeping his voice even. “I know, Belle. You’ve got to rest and do exactly what the doctor and Mary Ellen tell you to do.”

  Belle’s lip trembled, and she moaned. “Jed took Nathan. He said he’s going to sell him!”

  Belle screamed wretchedly and arched forward. Mary Ellen held her while Dr. Lowell gave her medicine-laced tea.

  Reed turned and wheeled to the kitchen. Deputy Pearson was carrying in Patches. The dog whimpered when he saw Reed.

  “Heard something moaning in the woods,” the deputy said. “Found this one caught in a trap he was dragging. Doesn’t look like the bone’s broken, though. But got a nasty slash.”

  The deputy laid down the dog, and Henry gathered water and rags and knelt down to look at the dog’s leg.

  “Belle said her brother Jed’s going to sell Nathan,” Reed said to the sheriff.

  The sheriff directed the deputy to ready the horses. “Nathan is Amos Black’s son that you and Mrs. Jackson took in, right? The deputy and I are going to the Richards’s farm right now. Are you staying here, Henry?”

  Henry nodded. “Mary Ellen will be staying, and I will too.”

  “Good. Do you have a gun, Mr. Jackson?”

  “I have a shot gun. It’s in my bedroom.”

  “Well, I’d keep it and the shells handy tonight,” the sheriff said as went out the back door. “If Nathan gets sold and moved tonight, he’ll never be found. We’ve got to get him while Jed still has him. But whatever you do, let us handle this. Stay put, Mr. Jackson.”

  Patches limped to Reed and put his head under Reed’s hand. “You knew what was going on and were trying to get home, weren’t you, boy?”

  “Didn’t know these woods have traps,” Henry said. “Too close to town.”

  “I don’t think they did have traps, Henry,” Reed said. “Jed set this one, I’m certain.”

  “It’s good the sheriff is already on the way to Jed’s. Maybe there won’t be trouble,” Henry said.

  Reed looked up at him with a half-smile. “The trouble’s already here, Henry. Look at my home. Look at my wife. Nathan is gone. There’ll be no avoiding it.”

  Henry nodded and started to straighten up the kitchen. Reed wheeled into his bedroom and picked up the shotgun and the box of shells from the dresser. “Jim, do you have some ointment I can put on Patches’ leg so it doesn’t get infected?”

  “I’ll look at the dog, Reed. Mary Ellen’s going to put Belle’s nightgown on her, and then I’m going to stitch up that stab wound and the cut on her chin,” Jim said and reached in his bag.

  Reed waited till the doctor was out of the room. He reached between the mattresses on his side of the bed till he found his pistol. Mary Ellen watched him. Reed opened a dresser drawer and dumped bullets in his vest pocket. He checked the cylinder of the gun to make sure it was fully loaded. Reed tucked the gun between his hip and chair and looked up at Mary Ellen.

  “She loves you, Reed. You must be careful. But if Nathan isn’t found, I’m not sure what she would do. She loves him as much as she loves that child growing inside her.”

  Reed looked at Belle. She must have fought valiantly to guard herself and Nathan. “When she wakes, tell her I love her and will love her for all eternity whether I’m on this earth or in the great beyond.”

  Mary Ellen’s lip trembled. “I will tell her those exact words if necessary, Reed. But I’m counting on you to tell her yourself.”

  Reed wheeled into the kitchen where Henry was sweeping and Jim Lowell had just stood up from wrapping Patches’ leg. Reed watched the doctor go into his bedroom, went to the back door and pulled on his jacket. He unhooked the sheath that held a Bowie knife and checked the blade. He tucked it in his belt.

  “The sheriff will handle this, Reed,” Henry said.

  “I’m just going outside for some air.” Reed started out the door, and the dog followed him. “Back inside, boy. You’ve done enough.” But Patches would not be discouraged.

  “What will you do from your chair?” Henry said as he followed Reed outside. “I’ll come with you.”

  Reed turned his chair around abruptly. “You will do no such thing. You will lock every door and guard Mary Ellen and Belle with the shot gun if necessary. I cannot do what must be done if I am worried that someone could double back here. I must know they are safe. I must.”

  Henry backed up without a word, and Reed heard the latch drop. Patches limped along beside him as Reed wheeled himself down the road in the moonlight. He prompted Patches, and the dog led him to the opening of the path. Reed stayed to the middle of the worn trail, trying to avoid the piles of dried leaves and their clatter on his wheel chair. Near the fallen tree, Patches stopped, and his ears stood up. He sniffed the air and murmured a low growl.

  “Hush,” Reed said softly. He wheeled onward to the fallen tree and off the main path as far as his chair would allow. He stuck the pistol in his belt with the knife and pulled himself up with the limbs, maneuvering five steps to just beside the spot where someone would duck under the fallen oak. Patches was by his side. He leaned against the tree and waited.

  It was not long until he heard gun shots in the distance. He checked his gun one last time in the stripe of moon light splaying between the trees. Patches stiffened, and his nose went in the air. Reed held his breath and listened. Far off, he could hear the slap of footsteps in the still night.

  Within minutes Reed could hear voices. Two men talking and an occasional moan. Reed peered over the tree trunk and saw two figures hurrying towards him pulling something between them. Reed unsheathed the Bowie knife and laid his gun on a wide cut out of bark. As they got closer, Reed realized that they were dragging a large burlap feed bag, tied shut. When the men stopped, the bag lurched and rolled and one of them kicked it. Reed knew from the cry that ensued that Nathan was in that bag.

  “Hurry up now,” Jed said. “We’ve got to meet Shanksford ‘fore midnight.”

  The other man huffed and puffed. “I’m tired, Jed. I need a rest. This boy’s heavy, and he’s fighting, and I don’t think the sheriff followed us. No way he could make it through the brush on horseback.”

  “The sheriff’s a dumb son of a bitch.
He ain’t following us. You’ll feel fine when you get your gold. Now duck down under that tree there and drag this nigger boy through. I’ll be right behind him.”

  Reed watched as the man’s back side appeared out from under the trunk. Then his back and shoulders. When his head cleared, Reed reached down, pulled the man upright by the scruff of his neck and slit his throat with one sweeping move. He pushed the gurgling, dying man to his left and leaned back against the the tree trunk. Reed dropped the knife in the dirt and picked up his gun. Sweat rolled in his eyes, and he wasn’t sure if the stump of his leg would hold him upright much longer. He blinked and took a deep breath.

  “What was that? What are you doing over there? Pull on this bag, you idiot!” Jed shouted.

  Patches’s teeth were bared, but he did not make a sound and neither did Reed. He watched the burlap bag inch through the opening. With one last shove Nathan was on Reed’s side. Jed followed and stood up straight.

  “Where the hell are you, Sam?”

  “Out for an evening stroll, Jed?” Reed said and lifted the gun as a glint of moonlight reflected off the metal.

  Jed jumped and snarled. “What do you think you’re doing here, cripple? You’re nothing more than a nigger loving …”

  Reed fired one shot through Jed’s left eye.

  The kick of the gun was just enough to make Reed lose his balance. His right leg, already trembling, teetered, and without full control of his left and the wooden leg, he tumbled to the ground, smacking his elbow and head sharply on rocks. He lay still; trying to slow his heart and calm his breathing. He heard Nathan sniffling as Patches whimpered and pawed and pulled on the bag.

  “Nathan. It’s Mr. Jackson. It’s over. You’re safe.” Reed felt around for his knife and belly crawled on the dirt. “Watch now. I’m cutting this bag. Lie still.”

  Reed tore the bag the rest of the way, pulled the rag out of Nathan’s mouth and cut the rope around his wrists and ankles. Once free, the boy launched himself at Reed as he sat in the middle of the path in the dark shadow the tree trunk cast. Reed cradled the shaking boy in his arms as he cried and gasped for air.