by Caryl McAdoo
“What? You don’t know your own daddy’s name?” The man laughed. “That’s what I am, your pap, and that’s the gods’ truth, son.”
Henry stood, staring at the man. He wanted to tell him that he knew full well who his father was, a respected man of letters, but he didn’t say anything. Figured he’d best get on home. He shook his head, spit on the sawdust floor, and walked toward the door.
Footfalls pulled him around. The man ran toward him but stopped short. “Where you going, boy? Just now, I told you a thing. Ain’t you going to say otherwise? Or is it you don’t know for sure that I ain’t your pappy?” The guy leaned forward, exposing his chin, like he was begging Henry to take a swing. “Maybe it’s ’cause you know your mama’s honor ain’t worth defending. Is that it?”
For a heartbeat, he stared at the man. He clenched his fists but kept them at his sides. No matter how good it would feel, smacking the brute wasn’t worth it. He turned away and grabbed the door’s latch. An open hand slapped the back of his head. He spun around.
“Where you going, son? I thought we’d share a beer, talk a bit about that handsome mama of yours.”
“Don’t hit me again.”
The man stung Henry’s cheek. “What about slapping?” He laughed even louder. “Does that count?”
Henry’s fists balled. He swung and kept on swinging. The drunk went down. Henry jumped on top of him, pounding on his face. The man’s friend joined the fight, pummeling his head and back, but Henry kept on swinging anyway. Inside, he screamed at himself to stop, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He jammed his fist into the disrespectful, loathsome man’s face time after time.
Until a hand grabbed his arm.
The tavern disappeared. He looked up.
Sue kneeled beside the wagon he and the boy slept under. She stared at him. Her hand still held on to his arm, gently shaking it. “You awake now?”
He shook sleep and the bad dream away and peered into her eyes. “I am. What’s afoot?”
“You were shouting in your sleep to stop.”
“Was I now?”
She nodded. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.” What he wanted was to pull her to himself and smother her with kisses. Instead, he played the gentleman’s game and only smiled. “I’m sorry I woke you. Let’s get some rest. Maybe aim for another early start tomorrow.”
She scratched her ear, nodded, then crawled back under her wagon and the soft piles of his furs.
* * *
SUE LAY THERE AWAKE with her mind going as fast as that storm had blown in. The frogs sang to each other, and if she listened, really listened to their song, she could imagine they were croaking their praise to the Creator. A breeze rustled the drying leaves, and they, too, sent their song to the heavens. The owl joined in with his whoo and made her think he might be asking who was more glorious than God. Could there be any more beautiful a symphony?
She didn’t want to think about Henry at all, but that’s exactly where her thoughts kept returning. His eyes haunted her; in a good way, but still, she wanted her musings to go somewhere else. That look, though; had there been something there? Like he wanted to hug her and kiss her. But she couldn’t let that happen, no matter how she felt.
Besides, she wasn’t sure she’d even seen it. Could be that was only what she wanted, all wrapped up in her sinful nature. She’d probably only invented what she hoped to see there in his eyes—or what the devil wanted her to see.
He didn’t have to be such a handsome man. Not in a pretty-boy way, but a rugged, manly kind of way. Why he hadn’t been around more sure posed a mystery. Especially since every other single man on the Sulphur Fork Prairie had eventually come calling to court her. Young and old alike, from nineteen to seventy-two years old. She smiled remembering. What an old geezer he was! Probably showed up on a dare.
It was all confusing. None of them had ever made butterflies swarm her belly like Henry though. But him not being a believer . . . She sighed. Maybe he had no interest in marriage and being tied down anyway. What she knew was that she was absolutely not interested in that kind of relationship with any man unless it led to marriage, and that debate—so far as Henry Buckmeyer was concerned—had been settled in her mind after the first hug.
She would never marry Patrick Henry Buckmeyer. She’d never tie him down. And she’d never marry an unbeliever. Besides, he’d admitted out of his own mouth that he was a killer—had killed seven men.
Arriving in Pleasant Mound; that’s what she’d think about. Seeing the Foglesongs again and Becky playing with Sassy. And the Howletts; Sue enjoyed Shannan so much, and it would be good to have the long trip to visit with her and Berta and Benny. The women always shared their fresh revelations. Why didn’t more men spend as much time in the Word as women?
Henry not being a believer was dreadfully worrisome. How could he have read the Bible through so many times and not have seen the Truth? And her Levi, too, he’d never asked Christ into his heart. Maybe because he’d been forced to grow up way too quick, and even though she’d done her best and truly loved the boy, he just always seemed unsettled.
Oh, she needed to quit thinking and get some sleep! Counting her blessings might work. Maybe that would help her keep her mind off Henry. But it didn’t. She kept counting him! Henry, Henry, Henry! Why had he been yelling “Stop” in his dreams? When had he killed those men? And why? Were they the ones who haunted his dreams?
She yawned and finally dozed off with the heathen on her mind.
* * *
HENRY SLAPPED THE MULES’ BACKS. “Hey, now.” The beasts lumbered forward amidst the rattle of the trace chains and the wagon’s wood creaking and straining. As the day before, Rebecca rode with him to see to Blue Dog’s comfort, even though her mother had put up a little fuss. He couldn’t see what it mattered all of a sudden.
As far as the dog was concerned, though, he’d seen how the old boy sprang into action when he was needed last night. But he sure enough played the invalid again that morning. How could anyone claim dogs were only dumb animals? Not his Blue.
His little miss tugged on his sleeve. “Mister Daddy?”
He loved hearing that; it warmed his heart. He didn’t want to ever stop hearing her call him that. “What, Rebecca?”
She sniffed and looked up. Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t want you going to the bad place.” Concern etched her face.
“Don’t intend to, sugar. Why would you think such a thing?”
“But last night, you told that bad man that you killed seven men.”
He nodded. “I did, that’s true.” How much should he tell her about his life? “I’ve got a past I’m not so proud of.”
“One of the Ten Commandments says don’t kill.”
“But every time, it was in self-defense; I didn’t have a choice. I’m sure the man upstairs understands.”
Her concern eased. “I hope so, because I wondered if I still wanted to go to Heaven if you weren’t going to be there.”
His breath caught in his throat. She loved him that much? How could he ever love any little girl more? Not sure she wanted to go to Heaven if he wasn’t going to be there. He wanted to hug her tight and never let her go, but he just tousled her hair instead. “Seems Blue was a bit more spry this morning.”
She shook her head. “No, he’s still real sore and needs plenty of rest. I don’t want him doing anything for a couple of more days.”
He smiled and nodded. “Whatever you think, Doctor Rebecca. Noticed your stitches held tight, even after last night.”
“Yes, sir. I did, too. I truly am an excellent seamstress. Mama taught me.”
Sue, who had insisted on taking the first walking turn, stayed close to the front wagon, spending her time talking to the boy, best Henry could see. He still hadn’t resolved what exactly her pushing him away so abruptly meant. Didn’t like it much that she was the one who woke him from his nightmare either. Seemed if he mentioned or even thought about his past, he relived it i
n his dreams.
Had there not been plenty of witnesses to what had happened, he might have landed in the calaboose. But everyone agreed it was self-defense, though maybe a bit too vigorous, so no legal ramifications followed. The fact he’d been only fifteen, and the logger a grown man known for being a troublemaker, silenced even the other lumberjacks. Furthermore, Henry had cuts and bruises aplenty.
For a while, he’d let his life play out, but thinking on the progression of years, he came to concede that the tavern fight had been the first peg to fall that brought him all the way to Texas. He couldn’t imagine being a woman widowed at only nineteen and pregnant in the wild territory. He shook his head.
Sue slowed her pace and came abreast of his wagon. “Ready to switch?”
“Past ready.” He handed the reins to Rebecca and jumped down.
In a more graceful motion than he’d seen her make a week and a day before, she climbed into the wagon with it still moving. He smiled at her. She smiled back, but at best, he’d rate it a weak grin. Not the dazzling one he loved so much. What was wrong with her? What had he done to get her so upset with him?
He walked beside the wagon for a bit, then looked up. “If I’ve got it right, we should reach Titus’s Trading Post midmorning.”
She nodded. “Good. Maybe things will at last be easier from there on.”
“I was thinking, even if we’ve missed our neighbors, there should be others coming from the west heading for Jefferson. If you’re a mind to, we could team up with some of them.”
“Sure, that’s a good idea, but I hope we haven’t. Becky and I have good friends traveling with the train, and I’m really looking forward to spending time with them.”
So she wanted to spend her time with anybody but him? He had no idea what had upset her or why she acted all of a sudden like he had the plague. Could it be because he’d admitted to killing those men? If it bothered her, why wouldn’t she talk to him about it? Women. They were such enigmas. Did he really want to tie up for life with any of them?
He dipped his hat once, then increased his pace until he walked beside the lead wagon.
* * *
SUE HANDED THE REINS TO Becky. “Hold these a minute, please.” She yawned and stretched.
“Tired, Mama?”
“Yes, I am. Didn’t sleep so good last night.” Between Henry’s nightmare and her taking so forever to go to sleep, it had been too short. She took the driving back. “How about you? Were you able to get some rest?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m not tired at all.”
Sue watched Henry walking beside the front wagon talking with her nephew and wondered what the conversation might be about. Had finding out Henry was a murderer changed Levi’s opinion of the man as it had hers? She was actually glad to know the truth. It shored up her decision to steer clear of him. And how had it affected her daughter? She looked down at her. “What are you thinking about, Becky? You sure are being quiet.”
Her little girl rubbed Blue Dog’s side. “Oh, I was thinking about Mister Henry.”
You, too, huh? Sue put her hand to her mouth. Praise God she’d only thought that! She should have known. That man! How did he weasel his way into everyone’s thoughts like he did?
“I really like him, Mama. Don’t you?”
She knew she’d better weigh every answer. “I like him all right. He’s helped us a lot.”
Becky twisted away from the hound and faced her. “Yes, he certainly has, and don’t you think he’s powerful nice, too? Why, he saved us from the bear and those wolves and that awful Littlejohn man. And he thought of calling the Indians, too, and—”
“To tell it true, it was Blue there that saved you from that bear. Mister Henry arrived a little late on that one.”
“That’s right, but Blue is his dog after all.”
“I’ll concede that it is a good thing he’s been with us on our trip, Rebecca.”
“Good, because I think we really owe him a heap.”
“Well, when we sell our cotton, we’ll pay him for helping us, so that’s his job. It’s why I hired him, to help us.”
She hoped her daughter understood that it wasn’t all out of the goodness of Henry’s heart that he was along. While she did agree a hundred percent that he had been a blessing, she preferred not to encourage the girl’s obvious infatuation with the man. No way would she put her in a position to be hurt by the likes of Henry. She needed to have a talk with him and tell him to back off.
This was not going the way Becky had hoped that it would, Sue was certain. She knew her daughter well enough to know she was trying to get her to think differently about Henry. She probably hoped that he would be her new father, and thought that Sue was muddying the water being so negative. She’d heard her daughter pray for a daddy, and her being without one broke Sue’s heart.
But Henry was not that man, even if Becky thought he was, wanted him to be. She hoped her little girl didn’t already love him. No doubt she’d blame her mother for messing everything up when it didn’t turn out as she would like.
“Mama? How much do you think I’m worth?”
“Why, you are priceless, my dear.” She hugged her, one armed. “You’re my gift from God and worth more than all the money in the whole world.”
“All right, fine. I thought you might say that.” Becky giggled. “So what I want to know is if you want me to be happy for my whole life.”
“That’s a silly question! Of course I do. I’ll always want the very best for you.”
“Good, proud that’s settled.” The girl returned her attention to her patient. A diligent doctor indeed.
Sue shook her head and smiled. Her little one never failed to astonish her with bizarre conversations. Sue only wished she could be sure that Henry didn’t reside at the bottom of her daughter’s deep thoughts, but she feared he was exactly the motivation for Becky’s strange musings.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
LIKE HENRY FIGURED, he pulled the first wagon’s team to a stop in front of Titus’s Trading Post a bit before high noon. On both sides of the well-worn road, a smattering of buildings stood in various stages of completion. He liked progress, and Pleasant Mound looked progressive. Might even make a town before too long.
The other wagon pulled in behind him. He looked back at Sue. “What do you think, boss? Want us to unhitch ’em?”
“Let’s hear the news, and then we can decide.”
He chuckled on the inside. Exactly what he’d supposed she’d say. “Sounds good.” He locked the brake and tied the reins off, patted Blue, then jumped down. He held his arms out. Rebecca fell into them like she’d been doing it her whole life. He put his mouth close to her near ear and whispered, “See if you can find something you want, my treat.”
“Anything?”
He laughed. “Maybe not anything, but if you really want it, I’ll see if I can’t dicker for it.” He set her on the wooden porch leading into the trading post.
Sue hurried past, giving him a disapproving look on her way into the building.
What had he done to deserve that?
Women, would he ever understand them?
* * *
ONCE INSIDE, when her eyes had adjusted enough to find the proprietor, she held her hand out across his countertop. “Sue Baylor, sir, from Sulphur Fork. Has the cotton train from up my way made it through yet?”
“Yes, ma’am. They pulled out yesterday morning before the sun showed.” The man held out his hand. She grabbed it and shook halfway between the light touch of the gentlewoman she’d been raised and the firmness of the granger she’d become. “Andrew Titus, ma’am. This is my trading post. So you folks from up by the Red?”
She looked down as though studying his wares, but her true purpose was to hide her disappointment. Only a day behind. If she just had listened to Henry, they could have beaten them here by what? Two days. She chided herself and felt bad about it all over again, then met the man’s eyes.
“Very nic
e to make your acquaintance, and yes, sir.” She smiled. “I have a little over nine hundred acres about twenty-five miles south of the river.”
Becky strolled past, carefully scrutinizing all the merchandise the man had on display. She looked up at Mister Titus. “Yes, sir. We’ve got a right good block of black dirt four miles south out of Sulphur Fork.” Becky grinned at Sue.
She chuckled. “My precocious daughter, Rebecca.”
Levi hurried by as though above window-shopping. “Any paraffin, sir, and oil for the canvases?”
Sue nodded in his direction. “And Levi Baylor, my nephew.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir.” Titus pointed. “You’ll find both in the back left corner.” He looked past Sue to the outside. “That your husband watering your mules?”
Her heart skipped a beat, startled her. “Hired man.”
Titus nodded. “You heard the news?”
“What news?”
“The cotton buyers are leaving out early, not staying much longer in Jefferson. Sent word down the trace. That’s why your neighbors lit out ’fore sunrise.”
“When? Do you know?” She looked toward Henry. A rock grew in her belly. “Any idea of how much time I might have?”
The man counted on his fingers, then pulled a stubby pencil from behind his ear and scribbled on a pad. “If I’m counting right, you’ve got three days at most.”
“Counting today?”
“No, ma’am. Four counting today.”
Sue did the math. It meant better than thirteen miles a day, if they could make another eight today. “Why are the buyers leaving so soon?”
“Seems the election is doing funny things to the price of everything, especially lint.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Titus shrugged. “That’s what I thought.” He smiled. “Anything else beside the wax and oil I can help you with, Mis’ess Baylor?”
She shook her head. “Thank you, no, sir.” She had to get the wagons back on the trace. She turned and headed toward the door. Should she give up, turn around, and go home? How could she after all they’d been through? But was it a waste of time to go on and try to make it?
