by Zina Abbott
“Don’t lie to me, girl. I can tell from looking at you you’re Injun.”
Libby felt like sinking into the ground with humiliation. It had been the bane of her existence that she, more than her siblings, showed her native ancestry in her appearance. The almost coal-black eyes, the long, black hair, some of her facial features—they all marked her in spite of her paler complexion and the wave in her locks. Through her life, she had suffered rejection because of it—everything from people acting stand-offish to those who whispered that her mother was not really her mother, but that her père had brought home a bastard child born to an Indian woman for her mother to raise. During her dark times of doubt, only her mother’s declarations that Libby had been born to her assured Libby of her true place in the family.
Now, she felt rejected once again by a man who had sent for her and agreed to marry her. Libby refused to give up easily. “I tell you the truth, Mr. Chambers.”
Everything you know about me is a lie.
“If my mother was Indian, then I would be Indian. But, my mother is white, so I am white. That is how the law says it is for those who have Negro blood. Whether or not a child of mixed blood is considered black and a slave or white and free depends on what the mother is.”
“You stupid woman! That only counts for the condition of the child, whether it is free or slave. If you got any Injun blood in you, you’re a breed. I ain’t marrying no Injun, full or breed.”
Libby swallowed. She also did not wish to marry this man, but what could she do if she didn’t? The physical characteristics she possessed that repelled him were the same that would keep everyone else from being willing to offer her a job.
Chambers pointing an accusing finger at her. “You tricked me! You never told me you have Injun blood. You told me you were white!”
Libby picked up the presence of a gathering crowd in her peripheral vision.
“No, sir, I never said anything about my ancestors. And I am white. I never met my native grandmother or lived among her people. My mother is white. I was raised in the white world. I read your letters, and you never said anything about expecting a wife to have a certain appearance. I made sure before I agreed to come. Yet, sir, I believe I can safely say you lied to me about your age. Your letter said you are twenty-eight.”
Someone in the crowd hooted in derision. “Chambers, you old geezer. You have no call to be writing off for a wife, let alone telling her a whopper like you being in your twenties. You’re fifty if you’re a day.”
Chambers wobbled on his feet as he turned to his accuser and spoke with a snarl. “I’ll write whatever I please. I wanted someone young and strong enough to do the work around my ranch. No one like that would come if I told her my real age.”
“Ranch? Is that what you call that miserable excuse for a hovel? Ranches have livestock, Chambers. I don’t figure a broke-down mule and a lame dog count as livestock.”
“How do you plan to support a wife, Chambers? The only thing you know how to do is bend your elbow when someone puts a bottle in your hand.”
“He just wants something female in his bed without putting out money for it.”
“A wife still has to eat.”
Libby’s gaze traveled from one stranger to another as they made their disparaging remarks about the man who had sent for her. She had to get away from him. He was no better than him. She could not marry Uriah Chambers.
Chambers stepped towards her until he stood three feet in front of her. “You made yourself out to be something you ain’t.”
A voice from the crowd hollered a taunt. “Sounds like the pot calling the kettle black, Chambers. You ain’t no young man, and you ain’t got no house fit for a woman, decent or otherwise, to live in.”
He took another step forward and held out his hand as he growled his demand. “I ain’t marrying you. Give me back my money.”
Libby swallowed and suppressed a shudder. The nuns had taken the money that was sent and used it to provide her the minimum of clothing they thought she would need and enough food to last the trip. “I will, Mr. Chambers, but I don’t have it now. As soon as I find work, I’ll start paying you back.”
“How much did you put out for her, Chambers?”
Libby narrowed her eyes when Chambers quoted a price. The mother superior had told her what the train ticket and fee would be for the man to send for her. What Chambers claimed was twice as much. She shook her head. “No. I know how much it cost. It was half of what you said.”
The man raised his hand as if to slap her. “Are you calling me a liar, squaw?”
Libby’s calm disintegrated. She felt the people standing behind her step closer, but she did not know if they would help her or stand up for Chambers. Then she felt a hand with a light touch rest on her shoulder. She wondered if it belonged to the woman who had spoken words of support to her earlier. It bolstered her courage. She stammered out her words. “I…I’ll repay you the amount you spent to send for me, Mr. Chambers, as soon as I can.”
Chambers continued his demand. “You’ll pay me now, or I’ll find someone who will.”
Before Libby could step away from his grasp, Chambers reached forward and grabbed the front of her gown. She screamed as the fingers of his other hand clutched her by the hair, and he began to drag her away from the crowd.
“The whorehouse is always looking for new girls. They’ll pay me up front for you, and let you work it off.”
The next thing she knew, it felt like a thousand hands grabbed at her, pulling her every which way. Even as Chambers’ fingers yanking at her hair felt like he would soon leave her bald, other shoulders worked their way between her and her attacker. She could tell from the blond hair worn long one set of well-formed shoulders belonged to the young man with the limp. Would she be pulled limb from limb before it all ended?
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CHAPTER 10
~o0o~
A pistol shot ringing out stopped everyone long enough for a gravelly voice to penetrate the melee. “Everyone stop now before I plug the next bullet into one of you owlhoots. Whoever you got ahold of, you let go and stand back three feet.”
Otto, along with most of the crowd around the woman named Libby and Chambers, stepped back, but only enough to assure Chambers did no additional harm to her. He looked at the man with the metal star on his chest who appeared to be only a few years younger than Chambers.
“Chambers? Is that you in there? I should have expected I’d find you in the middle of trouble. Turn loose of that woman’s hair, now.”
His hand still clutching the front of Libby’s gown, Chambers turned and scowled at the lawman. “I ain’t the one causing trouble, Sheriff. This squaw owes me, and I expect to get my due.”
His claim set off a new round of arguing and taunts.
The voice of the sheriff rose above the din once more. “All of you, quiet, before I start filling my jail cells. Now, Chambers, I don’t know yet exactly what that woman has done, but you let go of her right now, or you’ll be the first to go with me.”
Chambers released Libby and stumbled back, a scowl still on his face.
Once again, the crowd quieted.
Otto stayed close, but, not wanting to frighten the woman named Libby any more than she already was, he also stepped back. With a sense of gratitude, he watched Mary move next to her and put her arm around Libby’s shoulders. It was then Otto noticed Libby was not a tall woman.
Mary patted Libby’s upper arm as Libby flinched. “It’s all right, Miss Jones. I’ve got your bonnet, and my husband picked up your valise. Come back here and stand with us until this is settled.”
The sheriff walked until he stood between Chambers and Libby. With his hands on his hips and his feet spread, he faced Chambers. “All right, Uriah, I’m giving you two minutes to say your piece. Make it good, because that’s all the time I’m willing to listen to you.”
Chambers tried to reach around the sheriff to
point at Libby, but the lawman slapped his hand down. “She cheated me, Sheriff. I sent off for a wife, paid good money for her, and she comes here and turns out to be Injun. We had an agreement, and she broke it. She won’t give my money back, so I was going to take her to Madam Daisy’s and let her work it off there. You know, get my money up front, and let Daisy and this squaw work it out amongst themselves.”
A chorus of snickers and comments followed. “What he ain’t telling you, Sheriff, is he made himself out to be twenty-eight and a successful rancher. If anyone wrote a pack of lies, it was him.”
“All right, that’s enough! You say another word, Uriah, or move from where you’re standing, I won’t just put you in my jail, I’ll bury you under my jail.” The sheriff turned to face Libby. “Now, miss, I guess I need to hear your side of things.”
Libby glanced at his face, then away as she sought to calm herself. She had seen the expression like the one worn by the sheriff before in people who looked down on her because of her Indian features. She suspected the man would doubt her story, but she did not know what else to do but tell the truth. “I worked with a woman who helped me write letters to Mr. Chambers through a marriage service. I read the letters, and she wrote the letters back for me since I don’t write well. We decided on Mr. Chambers because he said he was twenty-eight, not too old, and because he claimed to have a large ranch with much livestock. Although I am white and was raised as a white person, I am aware of my appearance which shows some native ancestry. The woman helping me and I were very careful to learn if Mr. Chambers was concerned with the appearance or background of the woman he wished to marry. He only claimed he wanted someone young and strong enough to help on his ranch.”
“She didn’t tell me she was Injun.”
Libby swallowed, but she said nothing in reply. She refused to defend herself again.
The sheriff pinned her with a piercing look. “You still want to marry this man?”
“No, sir. I’d rather not. I feel Mr. Chambers didn’t tell me the truth about himself. I don’t know where I’ll go, but I don’t wish to marry him.”
“You said you’d pay me back.”
Although the bulky form of the sheriff blocked her view of Chambers, she heard the words clearly. “I did say I would pay him back. My problem is, I don’t have any money to do so right now. When I find work, I can start paying him back then, but only the amount he paid for the fee and train tickets. He claims he paid twice that, but the woman who helped me told me how much it cost for him to send for me.”
Mary Palmer stepped forward. “She should not have to pay this man’s inflated claim, Sheriff. We heard the earlier discussion and know how much she said he paid. If she’s willing to work for us at least long enough to pay us off, we’ll pay this woman’s debt and let her come home with us.”
“Now, Mary. Are you sure?”
Mary turned to her husband. “We have to do something, Edward. And you know we can use the help at home.”
Edward smiled at Libby, who stared at them with disbelieving eyes. “My wife has a point, Miss Jones. If you are willing to work on a farm several miles west of here, we’ll hire you by paying this off. You may stay with us until you decide what you want to do.”
Otto began to berate himself for not seeing the obvious. With such a shortage of women in the region, he knew most of them from the families surrounding Abilene, or even Salina where his parents lived, would never give him a second look—not when they had several able-bodied men to choose from. However, this woman was in dire straits, and she had come here to marry. He could not say he loved her, but he did admire how she had handled herself throughout this entire situation.
Otto began to calculate in his head the money he had earned from the sale of his wheat and what he would need to live on until he had another crop to sell. All three of his cows had thrown healthy calves, so he could look toward being able to sell at least two of them when the time came. Things would be tight, but he could make it. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t be put off by his obvious physical shortcoming.
Otto stepped forward. He cursed to himself as his bad leg gave out on him enough his limp became obvious to anyone watching. He steeled himself and forced out the words, hoping he didn’t also trip over his tongue in the process. “Miss Jones. I’m Otto Atwell. I apologize for not speaking sooner before this man had a chance to attack you. I don’t want to discourage you from working for the Palmers, if that is what you want, for they are fine people. We’re family in a roundabout sort of way. However, you said you came here to marry…”
Jefferson interrupted Otto by clearing his throat. “Otto, I think I know where this is going. Are you sure about what you’re planning to say?”
Otto turned to his father. “Yes, Pa, I am.” He once again faced Libby and introduced the rest of his family and Shorty. “Miss Jones, the Palmers, here, are my uncle’s wife’s parents.”
Otto paused, and guessed from the way Libby’s lips were parted and her eyes moved from one face to another, she felt overwhelmed with all the family connections. He looked beyond his family group, only to realize the scene held the rapt attention of a growing audience of townspeople. He closed his eyes, certain he was making a fool of himself. However, he was not a coward. No matter the outcome, he would see it to its end.
“Miss Jones, I know we haven’t exchanged letters and you know nothing about me, but what you can see here right at this moment. However, knowing you came here to marry, and knowing you don’t wish to marry Mr. Chambers, I am making you an offer of marriage. If you agree, I’ll pay Mr. Chambers the fee you say you owe him…”
“She’s lying. I already said what she owes, and that’s how much I want.”
The sheriff spun on the ball of his foot to face Chambers. “Shut your mouth, Uriah. Way I see it, after the stunt you pulled, you don’t deserve a wooden nickel. I believe her over you. If one of these folks is willing to pay the amount she said, you’ll take it, and I don’t want to hear another word out of you about it.”
The sheriff turned back and fixed his glare on Libby. “Well, miss, it sounds like you got two good offers. Which one you going to take?”
Mary reached over to place a reassuring hand on Libby’s arm. “It’s your choice, Miss Jones. Mr. Atwell is a fine man and would make you a good husband. You won’t offend us if you choose married life and your own home with him over working for us.
Libby glanced at Mary before she looked over to study the handsome face of the man who offered to marry her. She feared she might be making a terrible mistake. However, if she was ever going to regain peace in her soul, she knew what she needed to do. Libby faced the sheriff. “I will accept the job with this couple.”
Otto stared at the profile of Libby Jones and hoped the pain of rejection he felt inside did not show on his face. He should have known better. No woman, not even one in as desperate a situation as hers, would willingly settle for being married to a cripple.
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NEAR ABILENE, KANSAS – MAY 1868
CHAPTER 11
~o0o~
Otto drove his wagon the entire way from Junction City to his home just west of Abilene. He had taken salicylic powder each time they had stopped to rest the animals. He also sat on a thick cushion fashioned from one of Grandma Mary’s quilts that had been passed down to him. Still, by the time he saw his house and outbuildings ahead of him, his back and leg burned and ached to a point they drove him to distraction.
Twice, his father had come to him and offered to tie his horse behind the wagon and drive for a time so Otto could stretch out in back to rest his aching hip joint. Otto knew he could have shifted the chicken cages and supplies to one side enough to create a place for him. However, he was mindful that ahead of him, Libby Jones rode with the Palmers, trading off with Mary and Edward driving the team. He refused—refused—to show any signs of his weakness as long as she was around. His pride would not allow f
or her to know on the very same day she had declined his offer, she had made a wise choice to not tie herself to someone who possessed the physical limitations he did.
Once in the yard, Otto set the brake and carefully eased his way off the wagon, praying his leg would not give out on him and send him tumbling to the ground. He hated picking himself up back on his feet after losing his balance and falling, especially with an audience.
Henry, who had been in the barn doing evening chores when they pulled in, had come out and stood with his arms akimbo as he watched the small caravan. Now, out of the corner of his eye, Otto realized Henry had approached his wagon and glared at the two cages in back.
“Everything go all right while we were gone, Henry?”
Henry shrugged. “Right as rain. No reason why it shouldn’t. See you came home with a passel of chickens.”
Otto twisted to better see his brother, wincing at the fiery dart of pain that shot his right hip. “That was the plan, Henry. Got me a good rooster and some nice laying hens, if I do say so myself.”
Henry snorted in derision. “Good rooster—that means he’ll peck you to death if you give him half a chance. At least, you brought back a wife to take care of them.”
Otto fought back the cold sense of failure that washed over him. “No, no wife. She’s going to work at the Palmers’ for the time being.”
“What?” Henry turned to stare at Otto, an expression of disbelief on his face. “Since when do the Palmers need help? Unless she’s already taken, you should have married her, Otto. You could use the help, especially with these chickens.”
Otto gritted his teeth with frustration. “Hush, Henry. It’s best you don’t shoot off your mouth about things you know nothing about. Besides, the Palmers are getting up in years. They really could use some help, especially when Edward’s knee starts acting up. Now, hold your voice down.”
