Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (39 page)

“It’s the best I got,” he announced. “You gents can bed down in the storeroom.”

“That will be fine,” Rain said, crowding into the small room and moving along the wall to make room for Gavin.

The trader lingered in the doorway for a long moment, then went back to the store. Rain Tallman was a legend in the land west of the big river. That he had arrived at the settlement with two women would be the talk for months to come. Jean Pierre would be the one to tell about how he came riding in one day and as cool as you please said he wanted a room.

“Ahh . . .” Jean Pierre sighed. “He is a man, that one. Which one will he have, or will it be both?”

The room was small, the cracks in the log walls filled with mud plaster. One high window was covered by a thin deerskin. Under that a crude bench was nailed to the wall. The bed was built into one corner, a platform a foot off the floor, covered with a straw-filled pad. A candle in a glass holder sat on the mantel. If Amy hadn’t been so tired and so depressed because of Tally she would have laughed at the irony of that touch of refinement in the rough setting.

A girl came to the door with a bucket of water and a tin basin. She had large dark eyes and long black braids. Her skin was light, but her Indian blood was evident. Rain took the bucket and basin.

“Thank you, Tennessee.”

“Come sit down, Gavin.” Eleanor gestured toward the bench against the wall. The big Scot eased himself down and Eleanor sat beside him. “This is only slightly better than camping,” she said with a giggle.

“There’s something about being enclosed in these dark walls that makes me edgy.” Amy wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. “How long will we be here, Rain?”

“It depends on what the letter says.” Rain took it from his shirt and looked at the writing on the envelope. “It’s from Will.”

They all waited expectantly for Rain to open his letter. He stepped to the door and looked out, then slit the end of the envelope with his knife and pulled out the sheet of paper. He read the missive slowly, tilting the paper to the light so he could see. Then he read it again before he spoke.

“It’s from Will,” he said again and glanced at Eleanor. There was a frightened look on her face as if she expected a death notice. “The letter is addressed to me, Eleanor, but it concerns you. Do you want me to read it aloud?”

She nodded stiffly. Rain moved closer to the bench, stood with his shoulder against the wall, and began to read aloud:

  Belle Point

22 May, 1819

Dear friend Rain,

I reluctantly take pen in hand to inform you of the conditions here at the post. As deadly as any threat that might arise from the Indian conflict, ague and bilious fever have afflicted the men of the garrison, the settlers about the post, and the Indians. More than one hundred have already succumbed to this malady.

Conditions here at the post have not progressed as I had hoped when I entrusted you with the mission of bringing Miss Woodbury to Belle Point. There are no women here at the post except for the wives of two enlisted men who work as laundresses, and no suitable housing. There is much unrest among the tribes and my duties keep me away from the post much of the time.

The conditions here have made it necessary for me to make a grievous decision. Therefore, I must inform you that I am unable to have Miss Woodbury and her aunt with me at the present time. It may be years before this post will be secure enough for me to bring them here. Please assure Miss Woodbury that I am aware of my commitment to her and will honor it at a later date should she still be desirous of accepting my hand in marriage.

In the meanwhile, Rain, if you will find quarters for them in Kaskaskia or Saint Genevieve, I will make the necessary arrangements with General Smith at Belle Fontaine to set up a fund to meet their living expenses. And you, my friend, will be reimbursed for both time and money, and I will be forever in your debt.

Your servant,

William Bradford, Major

Belle Point, Arkansas Territory

Rain held out the letter to Eleanor. “Do you want to read it?” She shook her head numbly, as if she hadn’t yet absorbed the meaning of the message. Rain carefully slipped the paper into the envelope and put it back inside his shirt.

“Does it mean I don’t have to marry him?” Eleanor sat with her hands tightly clasped in front of her.

“Will wouldn’t have
forced
you to marry him. He’s a kind man who feels responsible for you.” There was a faint note of irritation in Rain’s voice.

“I appreciate that,” Eleanor said gravely. “I don’t want him to feel responsible for me. Aunt Gilda played on his family honor to get his promise to marry me. I’ll write to him and tell him he doesn’t need to worry about me.”

“That’s up to you. I’ll take you to Saint Genevieve if that’s where you want to go. But first I want Will to know about Perry.”

“No!” she exclaimed. “I don’t want to be obligated to Will.” Then, with the look of a new awakening on her face, she blurted, “You may think I’m wicked and ungrateful, but I feel free! Free!” The smile she turned on Gavin was radiant. “For the first time in my life I’m free to do what I want to do. I don’t have Papa, Aunt Gilda, Will Bradford, or anyone saying I must do this, do that. You don’t realize how wonderful it is.”

“Well, I guess that’s one way of looking at it. Write your letter to Will. I’ll send one too and tell him he needn’t provide for you, if that’s what you want.” Rain pulled himself away from the wall. “Gavin, I take it you and Eleanor are a team.”

It was the first Rain had acknowledged that there was a special feeling between the Scot and Eleanor. Gavin’s face turned brick red.

“Aye. I love the lassie,” he said firmly, looking Rain straight in the eye. “But I not be knowin’ ’bout hitchin’ with her. I got thinkin’ to do, mon.”

“That will have to be settled. My offer still goes to take her where she wants to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere without Gavin,” Eleanor said quietly.

Rain shrugged and slipped his arm around Amy. “We’ve got some deciding to do too, sweetheart. We can leave word here with Jean Pierre for Farr and Libby and go on and start our cabin, or we can backtrack and meet them.”

“I remember what you said the night you came to Quill’s Station. I’m eager to see your high valley and the river where you sat daydreaming.” Her eyes caressed him, full of love and happiness.

Smile lines crinkled the corners of Rain’s eyes. He tilted his head and placed a kiss on the end of her nose.

“I was hoping you’d say that. I remember you sitting behind me, quiet as a mouse.” He kissed her nose again. “Gavin, do you have a yen to homestead? There’s plenty of room, and soon we’ll be joined by Farr and Libby. Farr wants to build on the river where he can trade.”

“Yes, he does,” Eleanor said quickly. “And so I do.”

“Hold on, lass. There be more to homesteadin’ than wantin’ to. I be studyin’ on the matter.”

“What’s there to study on?”

“‘What’s there to study on?’” he echoed. “By holy hell, lass. I be tellin’ ye I got no money to buy stock, tools, seed—Ye be needin money to be keepin’ body and soul together till the land pays.” There was something agonized in the blue eyes that looked down at her.

“Have you forgotten that you’ve got money coming? You haven’t drawn a cent of your pay since leaving Louisville,” Rain said. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and let the women digest all that’s happened. I’ll bring in the packs so you can wash before supper.”

The room was almost completely dark when Rain returned with their bundles. Amy had found tinder, flint and steel and had lit the candle, mentally thanking the landlord for the luxury, knowing that candles were costly on the frontier. They took turns washing in the basin, pouring the dirty water in the tin chamber pot that sat in the corner. A feeling of security about four walls and a closed door comforted them when they undressed.

“I never thought I’d be so happy.” Eleanor was in high spirits. She had washed her face and was now brushing her hair. “Just think! I can do what I want to do, and more than anything in the world I want to spend my life with Gavin. I never knew there was a man in the world who was so strong yet so kind.”

“Settling on new land is a hard life. There will be times when you’ll be cold and hungry, maybe even sick. You saw how Vonnie lived.”

“But she was happy. I’ve thought of how hard it would be. But everything we have will be due to our own efforts. The home will be our home, the children ours. Oh, Amy, I want lots of children. I wished for a brother or sister when I was young. It’s so lonely being an only child.”

Rain knocked on the door and said, “Vittles on the table in Hoffman’s quarters.” The women blew out the candle and followed him through the dark storeroom.

In the landlord’s quarters they sat on benches at the long narrow table and were served by Mrs. Hoffman and Tennessee. The trader’s wife had an impressive build, a bronze face and dark, shoe-button eyes. She wore her dark hair parted in the middle and pinned in a tight knot at the back of her head. In honor of the guests, she had pinned a brooch at the neck of her long, doeskin dress. Her daughter was a willowy girl of no more than twelve years. Tennessee moved quietly and with dignity even though her linsey-woolsey dress was too small for her growing body. It was drawn tightly across her budding breasts and showed her bare legs and feet. Six more children, who looked to be scarcely more than a year apart, lined up against the wall waiting their turn at the table.

The meal was simple but good. In silence Mrs. Hoffman served venison steak, dandelion greens and sweet potatoes on wooden plates. Mr. Hoffman wolfed down his food, then leaned back in his chair and puffed on a clay pipe, sending clouds of tobacco smoke toward the ceiling.

“Did anyone come through here yesterday or this morning riding a horse and leading one?” Rain asked casually.

“Pilgrims come through all the time. Renegades, deserters and thieves too. We get ’em all. Don’t usually pay no mind. Peter Hopcus was here today. He’s a homesteader east of here on the Current River. He said a young feller came by his place last night riding a horse and leading one. Said he called out a howdy and offered a meal, but was glad when the youngun passed on. Hopcus said he was surly and mean looking.”

“Any horses been stolen around here lately?”

“I ain’t heared a any round here. Hopcus said some was took east a him by river raiders. You looking for somebody, Tallman? Pete might still be around, if’n you want to talk to him.”

“No. We found a pilgrim up on the trail. Horse and gun gone. Didn’t want to bed down if there was a cutthroat hanging around.”

“I sure can’t guarantee they ain’t. But there ain’t any that I know of. We don’t put up with any tomfoolery. This is a post office of the government,” he said proudly. “The militia keeps a sharp eye on this place. Did you get the name of the man killed? I’ll put it in the Territory Record Book.”

“I knew him. I’ll give you the information later.” Rain was sorry he had brought up the matter when he saw the pained look on Amy’s face. “I want to send a letter to Will Bradford at Belle Point. Do you have any idea when a messenger will be going that way?”

“The mail will be comin’ in from the east any day now. What goes on west will go up the Arkansas. But I hear it’s floodin’ now. Might have to wait a week or two.”

Rain nodded. “Some friends of mine will be coming through in a few weeks. I’ll leave a letter for them, too.”

“You goin’ south?” Hoffman’s eyes went from Rain to Amy to Eleanor and back. The desire to know why Rain Tallman was traveling with two young women burned strong, but he didn’t dare ask the woodsman.

“We’ve not decided on it.” Rain shook his head when Tennessee offered more sweet potatoes. “If you ladies have finished eating, we can walk for a bit.”

Amy and Eleanor stood. Disappointed, Jean Pierre got quickly to his feet and bowed. Amy looked around to thank Mrs. Hoffman and Tennessee, but they had disappeared behind the curtain that divided the room.

“Thank Mrs. Hoffman for the fine meal.”

“Oui, mademoiselle.”
Jean Pierre bowed again and wondered if the tall one in buckskins was Tallman’s woman. She was a beauty in a completely different way from the black-haired woman who was small and had the face of an angel. The tall one was slim, but with generous breasts and rounded hips. Her movements were graceful, her smile quick and warm. Jean Pierre sighed for his lost youth.

Amy breathed in gulps of the warm night air as soon as they reached the porch. The heavy scent of the cooking and the closeness of the room had almost made her sick.

“I hate to be closed in like that. I love to be outside,” she whispered, and clutched Rain’s arm.

“You’re a mountain sprite.” He laughed and covered the hand on his arm with his. “Gavin, I left my rifle just inside the door. Wait here until I get it, and we’ll walk for a short way and talk. This place is full of ears, and Jean Pierre likes nothing more than to gossip.”

A few lights shone from the open doors of the cabins they passed as they walked down the moonlit road. Families gathered on the porches fell silent as the strangers passed. In the distance someone played a squeeze box and a woman sang. Children laughed and played and called silly things to each other. All were familiar, homey sounds that reminded Amy of her life at Quill’s Station.

At the edge of the village Rain stopped.

“A couple of years ago a preacher lived only a few hours’ ride from here. I’m thinking of riding out and seeing if he’s still there, and if he’s willing to come here to Davidsonville. We could be wed tomorrow or the next day. We’ll be here a few days while I gather supplies to last until Farr gets here. What do you say, Amy mine?”

“Yes! Oh, yes!” Amy hugged Rain’s arm. “We could be married before we go home to your land even though I feel we’re already married.”

“Gavin?” Eleanor shook Gavin’s arm and looked up into his face expectantly when he didn’t say anything. “What do you think?”

“I dunno, lass. It be happenin’ too fast fer ye to be knowin’ if it be what ye want. Ye be knowin’ only today ye have freedom to be goin’ yer own way. Ye should think afore ye be settin’ plans what will last a lifetime.” Gavin’s Scottish brogue was never more pronounced as he strived to make Eleanor understand the seriousness of the decision.