by Zina Abbott
Carlotte looked from one to the other. Finally, she turned to her son. “Otto, do you not have a greeting for our guest?”
Otto came to himself and offered her a smile. “Hello, Libby. It’s a pleasure to see you today since I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow. Thank you for coming over.”
“I’m happy to see you, too, Otto. Mrs. Palmer sent me over with onions and pickles for your mother’s potato salad and some things for you in case you forgot to bring your own.”
Otto’s gaze dropped to the small tin and the jar in Libby’s hand. “Thank you. I remembered my salicylic powder, but I forgot my joint salve.”
“You might want to drink the willow bark tea rather than take the powder all at one time.
They each have the same pain-killing properties, but the tea goes in your body more evenly, and I don’t think it will upset your stomach like too much of the powder does. I know it tastes bitter, but if you sweeten it, it is palatable.”
“Do you recommend I sweeten it with maple sugar?” Otto thought he saw a slight tremor course through Libby. He reached for her offerings to distract her from realizing he watched for her reaction.
“You may sweeten it with maple syrup. Honey is also good, and honey is helpful for healing. There are those who will put honey on a wound and cover it with a cloth to keep infection out.”
“Thank you, Libby. I’ll try the tea.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Libby turned and nodded to Carlotte. “Goodbye, Mrs. Atwell. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you get ready.”
Carlotte walked with Libby to the kitchen door. “Mary keeps you busy, ya? We see you tomorrow.” Once Libby was gone, she turned to Otto, who now stood in the kitchen. She held out her hands to take the tea. “I make tea and put plenty of honey in it. You feel better.”
“Thank you, Mutti.”
Her gaze on her son, Carlotte shook her finger in the direction of the door Libby had just exited. “I like her, but something, she hides.”
“Perhaps. She seems to be happy working for Mary.”
“You, Otto, your heart you do not hide. You care for her.”
“I offered for her, Mutti, and she refused me.”
“Ya, I hear. I also hear what a bad day for her it was. You show her what a good man you are, and you offer again.”
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CHAPTER 17
~o0o~
Over the course of the evening, Otto drank several cups of the willow bark tea. Before he went to bed, much to Carl’s displeasure whose room he would share, he had thoroughly rubbed Mary’s joint salve into his lower back and hip. Carl threatened to force him to sleep in the barn with the horses. Henry stuck up for him, reminding Carl he should be happy he didn’t need to slather the smelly goo on his body to chase away the aches and pains.
By morning, Otto decided it had been worth it. His old mattress in the loft bedroom had been soft enough it had not further aggravated his bad hip. He went downstairs, barely feeling the ache of putting weight on his right foot.
Once breakfast and morning chores were completed, Jefferson and Carl left for Palmers’ to help get the half beef on a spit and ready to cook over a bed of coals while Henry took Otto out to see the two new fillies born to the family’s mares that spring. Much to Hannah’s chagrin, their mother put her to work hauling water from the well to the vegetable garden. Although they relied on the summer rains to keep the field crops watered, Carlotte made it clear to all in her family she refused to risk her vegetable patch to the whims of summer weather. Soon, Otto and Henry joined her and helped her finish the job so she could clean up and primp for the coming celebration with family and friends.
Soon it was time for Otto to clean up for the celebration. All the while he told himself he looked forward to a long visit with family. A small part of him whispered he really wished to spend as much time as he could with Libby. The question was, would she willingly spend time around him? Or, would she make it clear she hoped to avoid him whenever possible?
He left the house with Henry. After glancing at his brother, Otto did a double-take. “Henry, why are you bringing Pa’s rifle? Just because it’s Independence Day, I’m not sure he’s going to want you wasting bullets and risking one of them will fall on the livestock by shooting it off.”
“I’m bringing it just in case.”
“Like I said, why? We’re just getting together with family and a few friends to celebrate. What do you think is going to happen that you’ll need a weapon?”
Henry turned to him. “You never know, do you? You remember that time that renegade freighter threatened Aunt Mima and tried steal Kizzie from Uncle Sidney’s house then almost stabbed Leander to death? By the time Pa and you and Grandpa Palmer got there with your guns, Leander would have already been dead, and Kizzie took, if Charlie Gray Cloud hadn’t followed his brother and blasted the varmint to smithereens. I figure, if something comes up where a gun is needed, it won’t do no good if it’s back here at the house.”
Otto sighed and shook his head. “All right, but you better sneak it inside the Palmers’ barn and don’t let Pa see you have it, or you’ll hear about it.”
“I know. That’s why I’m coming with you.”
Once they reached Palmer’s yard, Otto walked over to join the men. He greeted his Uncle Sidney, whom he hadn’t seen since they stopped by his house on the cattle drive, and exchanged pleasantries with his Aunt Mima and cousins. However, once the Palmers arrived, no matter how unaffected he tried to make himself appear, he felt the focus of his entire body and soul was on Libby, even when he wasn’t looking at her. He did his best to not stare at her, but found he studied her every movement out of the corner of his eye. His plan to rid himself of his desire for her by being around her was not working. He wished more than ever to claim her. But, how to persuade her to take a chance on marriage to him—to a man with a crippled leg—that he did not know how to accomplish.
Soon it was time for the big meal, and all present began to heap their plates with food. Libby helped see to the bowls to be sure all got enough to eat. Otto smiled to himself when it became apparent Mary made every effort to push him and Libby together. He noticed she behaved as though she was unaware of it taking place. She did not encourage Otto or take the opportunity to spend more time with him. Neither did she try to avoid him completely. Charlie had told him to court her as a white man courts a white woman. His mother had urged him to show her what kind of a man he was. He didn’t want to be pushy or embarrass her, but it seemed any small overture he made towards her had no effect. As the afternoon progressed, he began to feel catching the interest of one Libby Jones was futile.
Otto rejoined several of the men who stood around the carcass of the remains of the side of beef on the spit as his father, uncle and others prepared to lift it off the forks that had held it over the coals. He felt someone slap his arm just before he heard Henry’s voice.
“Otto. Who’s that talking to Libby?”
Otto almost lost his balance as he spun around in the direction of Henry’s pointing finger but quickly righted himself. His breath hitched as he saw the stiffness in Libby’s back as she stood holding a bowl in her hand. She stood on the far side of the table made of sawhorses and planks and faced the trees lining the Smoky Hill River. Several yards away, standing at the edge of the trees, a grizzled-looking man with long, bushy salt-and-pepper-colored hair and a full beard of the same motioned her to come to him. He dressed as a backwoodsman in all buckskin.
~o0o~
Libby’s expressionless stare at the man before her did not reveal the horror she felt inside now that he had found her. She wished to collapse and lament that her failure to keep running had allowed him to find her. However, she knew she needed to keep her wits about her if she wished to keep her freedom—the freedom she had enjoyed this past months—the liberty she had claimed just as she had claimed a name, Libby, based on it.
She could not let him take her. She flicked her eyes from one side to the other, hoping no one saw the man who had come after her. Somehow, she must drive him off. Then she must run again and hope he didn’t catch up with her a second time.
Libby found her voice and injected as much confidence and determination into is as she could. “Leave here, Warren Murray. You are not welcome.” Libby shuddered as the calculating smirk she knew so well appeared on his face.
Warren Murray shook his head. “No, Ginny, not without you. You thought you could hide from me, but not forever. You belong to me, and I will take you with me.”
“No!” Libby swallowed back the hoarseness and her throat threatened to close up on her. She backed up and almost lost her balance as she bumped into the wooden planks of the table. “You have no claim on me, Warren. I won’t go with you.”
Libby heard others join her. Always before she had been forced to face Warren alone. However, how long would this family stand with her once they knew even part of her history?
An arm slid around her shoulder. Mary. “Do you know this man, Libby?”
Warren narrowed his eyes, and his voice taunted. “Tell them who I am. Tell them how you belong to me.”
Libby turned her head and spoke softly to Mary. “He’s the father of my step-father.” She faced Warren once more. This man had dominated her life for many years, and kept her in line with his threats. She didn’t know if she possessed the power to stand up to him now, but she must try. Even though her insides quivered, Libby threw out what she hoped were brave-sounding words. “I don’t belong to you, Warren. You…you’ve forced me to your will in the past, but no more.”
Libby felt Mary step to her side and turn to study her profile. She glanced at Mary, then she quickly looked away.
What must she think of me now?
Warren shook his head and his eyes narrowed. “You lie. You came to me willingly.”
“Only because…” She couldn’t say it.
I had to. To protect my sister from you.
“I didn’t do it of my free choice, and you know it.” Involuntarily, she stiffened her body when Mary pulled her into a tight hug, but her words strengthened her.
“You’re among friends, Libby. Remember that.”
“Libby? Do you want us to run him off?”
Libby jerked to face Otto as he approached her on her other side. Soon, he stood next to her with a clenched jaw and his eyes burning with distrust. He focused on Warren. Otto’s presence both strengthened and comforted her. It also added to her humiliation.
With a sneer, Warren turned his attention to Otto. “Stay out of this, pup. You don’t know her. Her name’s not Libby.” He focused again on Libby. “Tell him, Ginny. Your name is Genevieve Marie Charbonneau.” Glee once again filled Warren’s face. “It took months, but I finally found you, my little Ginny. It was in St. Louis I learned you changed your name to Libby. The nuns were very helpful.”
Please don’t let him have learned everything!
“The man you were to marry, he also was happy to talk. Once I described you, he knew who you were and where you went.”
Libby heard people walk up behind her, but most stopped on the other side of the makeshift table
Edward Palmer walked around the table and stood next to his wife. “Mister, I don’t know who you are, but I want you to leave my property. I’m surrounded by Atwell property, and I’m sure they’ll agree, if you don’t get out of here and go back to where you came, we’ll haul you off to the marshal.”
Warren looked around and shouted loud enough for all to hear. “She is my woman. She goes with me.”
Libby bent forward, pressing the bowl into her stomach as she fought back tears. “I am not your woman. You…you forced me, but…”
Warren stepped forward and pointed an accusing finger at Libby. “You’re Indian, Ginny. So, I’m a squaw man. By Indian custom…”
“There was no Indian custom between us, not when your son and my mother know nothing of what you forced me to do.”
Warren stepped forward. “Enough, Ginny. That woman’s not your mother. Your father brought you to her to raise, but that’s all.”
With a cry at hearing the lie about her origins, Libby dropped the bowl and spun away from Warren. She buried her face and body in Mary Palmer’s waiting arms.
“You have caused a great deal of trouble. It is your fault I had to leave to find you. Do not make it worse. Come with me—now!”
Libby peeked over the older woman’s shoulder. She saw the men from the celebration now standing in a crowd behind Mary. She guessed the mothers had herded their younger children into the safety of the house. She felt humiliated these people she had come to know these past months now knew of her past. Yet, in spite of her aching heart she realized their expressions of disdain were directed at Warren, not her. She turned back, and from a source she could not identify, found the strength to scream at Warren Murray the words she should have said long ago. “It is not my fault. Not when you said you’d kill me, or the others, if I ever spoke of what you’ve done, or threatened to do. You are to blame, not me. The nuns…”
Unable to continue, Libby squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her fists to her lips. She shuddered as she sensed Otto put himself between her and her nemesis. She did not recall him carrying a weapon except a short knife in a sheath at his side. She prayed Otto would not try to go up against Warren.
None of the men had come to the family social wearing firearms. Never before had she experienced such a show of support, yet at the same time, she still felt terrified someone would get hurt because of her.
Mary whispered her question so softly, it barely tickled her ear. “How long has he been forcing you, dear?”
“Years. I was ten the first time.”
Libby heard Otto’s intake of breath.
Now you know why I did you a favor when I did not accept your marriage offer.
Otto’s words came out strong and sure. “Libby is my wife. She stays with me. She’s going nowhere with you.”
Filled with fear, Libby jerked up her head until her gaze met Mary’s. How could he say that? Warren would not rest until he killed Otto if he believed she had married him.
Mary’s words were so low Libby barely heard them. “Let Otto help you, Libby.” Next thing she knew, she felt something being shoved on her hand. She looked down. Mary had taken off her wedding band and now worked to slide the gold ring on Libby’s finger.
Warren’s voice, full of derision once again, caught her attention. “She’s not married to you. Chambers in Junction City said she chose to go with the old couple. She wasn’t at your ranch when you left. She didn’t travel here with you.”
“She changed her mind. We married. I brought her here a few weeks ago to help the family get ready for today.”
“Prove you’re married to her.”
“I don’t have to prove anything to you.”
Libby turned back to face Warren, keeping all but her head and shoulders hidden behind Otto. “We were married by a Methodist circuit preacher. The record is in his journal.”
Warren shook his head in disgust as he spat out his words. “You and your mother and your Methodist preachers. You have no proof. Besides, if you used the name of Libby Jones, the marriage is no good.”
His admission he knew she was truly her mother’s daughter gave Libby a surge courage. “The Indian custom marriage you say you have with me is what is no good.” She fisted her left hand and held it out for Warren to see. “I wear his ring. I am his wife.”
Another lie I must confess someday. But if it saves…
Libby fought to quell the emotion her fears generated. “You have no claim on me, Warren. Besides, you already told me I was getting too old for you, and you’d soon find someone younger.”
Warren stepped forward. “I will not walk away, Ginny, especially until I know.” He fixed a piercing stare on Libby. “Tell me, Ginny. What happened to the child?”
Libby sh
uddered. “She died.”
Warren shook his head. “No. I know about that one. I mean the one you were carrying when you disappeared. Do not claim you left with no child, Ginny. I know your body, and I know what was in your belly.”
Libby bit her lip to stave off the pain in her heart. “It was also a girl. She also died.”
Warren’s breath began to heave as anger suffused his face. “You best not be lying to me, Ginny. If I find out you gave me a boy, and you let anything happen to him…” Warren pulled his knife from his belt, the kind commonly referred to as an Arkansas Toothpick, and charged towards Libby, his arm raised to strike.
Although it was no match for the long, heavy knife coming towards them, with one hand Otto reached for the four-inch knife he kept strapped to his side while he used his other to shove Libby behind him. He ignored the uproar of voices including his father’s warning as he stepped forward to prevent the stranger who claimed Libby from being able to reach her. He shook off the hand that grabbed his left arm.
A rifle shot rang out. The impact of the bullet hitting Warren Murray in his right shoulder sent his body spinning. He clutched the wound blossoming red with blood with his other. He recovered his feet after several stumbling steps and ran for the cover of the trees.
The unexpected sound of the shot momentarily startled those present into silence. Within seconds, pandemonium broke out, as men started shouting orders and making plans to chase after the man who had invaded the peace of their land and the joy of their celebration with the intent of stealing a young woman under the Palmer’s care.
Shutting out the whirl of activity taking place around her, Libby, aware only of the one thing she had learned from Warren Murray that meant the most to her, sank to the ground and buried her face in her hands.
He doesn’t know.
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CHAPTER 18
~o0o~
Otto’s body automatically started after the man Libby called Warren Murray to make sure he had left for good. A sane part of his subconscious warned him to go back for more weapons first. Just because the man appeared to only have the large knife with him didn’t mean he didn’t have a cache of weapons, including long rifles, stashed nearby.
