Dorothy Garlock (28 page)

She was cleaning the surgery when Silas returned.

“Dey gone.”

“Thank you for helping. I’m sorry you had to suffer his insults. I wanted to sew up his filthy mouth.”

“Yes’m.” Silas’s lips parted in a grin, showing two rows of exceptionally white teeth.

“Did Caroline’s house flood?”

“Yes’m. Water come up fast. We was gettin’ ready. We knowed Doctah would come.”

“I’m sure you’re tired. If you want to lie down, there’s a daybed in the storage shed. I’ll stay with Caroline until Dr. Forbes gets back.”

“Yes’m. She scared of folks. She don’t see nobody. Don’t go nowhere since her papa die.”

“I thought that might be the case. I hope she’s not afraid of me.”

“She poor little scared girl. She not what folks say,” Silas said softly. His eyes bespoke intelligence and integrity. He had such a quiet, gentle way with the girl that April sensed he loved her as if she were his own daughter. It was no wonder Doc trusted him to guard her.

“Ignorant people can be cruel.” April reached for the phone when it rang. “Hello? Hello, Doc. Has Mrs. Appleby had her baby?”

“Not yet, but Corbin has had a fit or two.”

April was too tired to laugh. “I sewed up a six-inch gash in Morton Gilbert’s thigh. We did not get along well.”

“He was drunk and mouthy?”

“You know him, then. My bedside manner went out the window. I’d not been able to manage without Silas to bring him in.”

“Everything all right?”

“Just fine. I’ll bed down on your couch until you get back.”

“It may be an hour before Annabel gives birth. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’ll be here, Doc.”

April turned off the lights in the clinic. She and Silas went into the other part of the house. Caroline was curled up in Doc’s chair. April kicked off her shoes and sank down on the couch.

“Doc called. He thinks it’ll be an hour before Mrs. Appleby has her baby.” April stretched. “I’m tired. I bet you are, too. Why don’t you lie down back there on Doc’s bed, Caroline? He’ll wake you up when he comes home.”

Caroline’s questioning eyes went to Silas. “Ya needs to rest. Doctah say so. He be sour-mouth if’n ya don’t.” She got up like an obedient child. “I be on dey porch. Missy nurse be here.” He spoke gently.

On impulse April said, “I’m glad you’re here, Caroline. Don’t worry. Doc knows what he’s doing, and he’s got friends here who will help him.”

Caroline nodded, then disappeared into the bedroom.

Chapter 22

C
ORBIN HAD MET
J
OE AND
J
ACK
on the front porch and told them his wife was going into labor. He said that he was waiting for Dr. Forbes and that a team of mules couldn’t pull him from this house until his wife and baby were safe.

“The people down there are a tight-knit group and will help each other,” Corbin said. “If a crowd gathers, it will happen uptown. Hang out on the edge of it, but let your presence be known. Joe can mingle and find out what’s going on. Don’t let them rile you and don’t try to handle a group of fifteen or twenty men alone. I called Marshal Sanford to ask for help. He wasn’t in his office, but the deputy will relay my message. I’m sure that he’ll either come himself or send help.”

Jack listened carefully to his friend’s advice on how best to handle the refugees from the flooded river bottom.

“No one complained at first because it raised the river and fishing was better. Fewer of the fish went on downriver.”

“I’ll be surprised if a bunch of hotheads don’t go down-river and attempt to blow out that damn rock pile. I can’t say that I blame them. The district judge told the town of Calmar to stop dumping rocks in the river and to take out the ones they’d put there.”

“Evan said they are claiming the river straddles the county lines,” Joe said. “And they’ve not had orders from the northwest district to take out the blockage.”

“It’ll come out one way or the other. I’m hoping it can be done in an orderly way. If not, someone could be killed.”

“We best get going. Give my regards to Annabel and tell her that I want a girl this time,” Jack said as they were leaving. “She can name her Jackiebel.”

“She’ll go for that, I’m sure.” Corbin grinned, then said, “Good luck, Jack. You’re getting a dose of law enforcement real quick, but I’m confident you’ll handle it.”

The brothers were quiet as Joe drove out of town and turned north on the river road. Water hadn’t come up over the road at that point, but the ditches alongside it were full. As they moved along the road, Jack stood on the running board and hopped off to meet every car and truck filled with families moving out. There were several wagons piled high with belongings and kids, and pulled by teams. The men looked grim, angry. Some of the women were crying and trying to calm the excited kids.

“Are all your folks out?” Jack would ask. “If you don’t have relatives to go to, you can camp in the park, on the baseball diamond or the school yard.”

As they neared the end of the residential section of Shanty Town, Jack got back into the car. “There’s only a couple more houses down this way. I don’t see any lights. We have to drive down there anyway to find a place to turn around.”

Joe stopped the car when they came to a place where the water was halfway across the road.

“We’d better turn around here if we can. I’d hate to have to back up all the way to town.” Joe cocked his head to one side. “Did you hear—?”

“I heard a shout.” Jack got out of the car.

“Hey! Hey!”

“Somebody’s running this way.”

“Hey! I need help!”

Joe stood on the road in front of the car and watched a boy run toward him.

“I can’t get my mama out!” He was so breathless he could hardly talk.

He came into the lights of the car barefoot, with wet rolled-up pant legs. He bent over and put his hands on his knees, taking in great gulps of air. Then he raised his head and looked at the two men in front of the car.

“Oh, shit. It would have to be you.”

“Catch your breath, Sammy,” Joe said. “Is your mother in the house?”

“Yeah. The water’s not up to the bed—yet.”

“Is she sick?”

“She’s drunk. I can’t get her up.”

“Is the water up over the road down there?”

“Not all the way.”

“Can we drive down there?”

“Yeah. The road isn’t flooded yet.”

“Do we dare drive farther, or shall I walk back with Sammy?” Joe asked Jack.

“If the water isn’t up over the road, we can drive. It would save time. But we’d better make it snappy.”

Joe got behind the wheel. “Hang on to the running board, Sammy.” He started the car and, after skirting the water, picked up speed until they came to another place where water was halfway across the road. He slowed the car to a crawl until they were on high ground again. “How much farther?” he yelled to Sammy.

“Stop when you get to the big trees on the right.”

After they had stopped, Joe looked toward the house. It was a good two hundred feet from the road. Jack’s flashlight shone on the water surrounding it.

“No need for both of us to get wet.” Joe took off his shoes. “I’ll go. See if you can turn the car around. You know where the lane is, so lead the way, Sammy.”

The water that came up to midcalf was cold. Joe followed along behind the boy, feeling his way toward the faint glow that came from inside the house. His tender foot struck a rock, and he swore.

“Do you have electricity, Sammy?”

“No. I left the kerosene lamp on.”

“Then we don’t have to worry about electric lines falling in the water.”

“Smart-ass lineman came out and turned the electricity off at the pole.”

“Can’t blame him. He had his orders.” Joe stepped in a hole and almost fell. “Dammit to hell.” He swore loud and long as he tried to regain his balance. His pant legs were wet all the way up to his crotch. It was damned uncomfortable. He decided then and there that if he could, he’d blow that rock pile down at Calmar clear to hell.

They sloshed along until they reached the house. Sammy had closed the door in a failed attempt to keep out the water. A foot and a half of river water and mud covered the floor. The boy had made an effort to save a few things by piling them up on the table and the kitchen cabinet. Blankets and bedding had been thrown up over the exposed rafters in the kitchen.

“She’s in here.” Sammy picked up the lamp and pushed through the water to a small room off the kitchen.

His mother lay sprawled facedown on a bare mattress. The bed took up most of the room, with just a walking space between it and a chest of drawers. Sammy set the lamp on the chest and hurried to pull his mother’s dress down over her bare buttocks.

Joe jerked a blanket from the end of the iron bedstead and spread it over the woman. With Sammy’s help he rolled her in it, then lifted her up and flung her over his shoulder.

“If there’s anything here you want, kid, you’d better get it now. I don’t think you’ll be back for a while.”

“I already did. My clothes and my schoolbooks are in a sack tied in the oak tree out by the road.”

“Yeah? That was smart.”

“I’m not the dumb-ass you think I am.”

“That remains to be seen.”

Joe felt his way out of the house and down the lane behind Sammy. Marla Davidson was a small woman; but by the time they were halfway to the road, she was taking on weight, and he began to breathe heavily. He labored through water and mud the last dozen yards, feeling as if each of his feet weighed a hundred pounds.

Jack had turned the car around. He opened the jump seat and helped Joe ease the woman into it. Sammy had disappeared as soon as they reached the road. He loped toward them now with a gunnysack that he flung in back with his mother.

“Let’s go. You’d better drive, Jack. Sammy and I will ride on the running boards. We’re wet and muddy. I don’t want to mess up April’s car.”

Joe, riding on the outside of the car, his feet bare, his pants wet, could feel the cold seeping into his bones. In several places water covered the road and splashed on his feet when they passed through it. It was not deep yet, but at the rate it was coming up, it soon would be. When they reached the lower area, where the houses were grouped closer together, Callahan and his boys were using their boats to check the houses to make sure all the people had reached high ground.

Joe yelled, “Everyone out down here?”

“Just about,” Callahan yelled back.

After they had left the river road, Jack stopped. “Where to, Sammy? Do you have relatives in town?”

Sammy stuck his head in the car. “Pa has some, but they don’t have any truck with us. Maybe Ma’s sister will take her. She lives down by the old blacksmith shop. She’ll be mad as a hornet because Ma’s drunk.”

“If her sister won’t take her, I can take her to the jail until she sobers up.”

Sammy bit his lip. “That might be best.”

“Where will you go?”

“I’ll manage. Just find a place for Ma.”

Joe never thought he’d feel an ounce of pity for Sammy Davidson, but he did when the boy followed along behind as he carried his mother into the courthouse, then down the steps to the jail in the basement. Jack unlocked a cell, and Joe placed Marla on a narrow cot and tucked the blanket around her.

“She’ll be all right here for the rest of the night,” Jack said to Sammy. “But come morning, I’ll have to let her out or file charges against her for public intoxication.”

“I’ll be back in the morning.” Sammy walked quickly out of the building to the car and retrieved the gunnysack. “Thanks,” he said to Jack and took off down the street.

The streets of Fertile had never been so busy this time of night. It was still more than an hour before dawn. Men had brought their families up to high ground and had gone back to salvage what they could. Women were sitting along the curbs. Children, scared at being snatched from their beds and brought to town, were standing close to their mothers or older siblings.

Jack, awed by the sudden responsibility of keeping the peace amid this chaos, kept an eye on the sky in the northwest, hoping the rain up north would travel east and not south. He didn’t know what he’d do with all these people if it should rain.

“You’d better go up to my room and change out of those wet britches,” he said to Joe.

“I was just thinking about it. You’d better come along. That horse’s ass behind the counter might not let me in your room.”

The hotel lobby was full of people when they reached it. The face of the man behind the desk was red with anger as he argued with a man who held the hand of a small girl. His wife was beside him carrying a sleeping baby.

“I don’t give a gawddamn what the policy is.” The man slammed his hand down on the counter. “You’ve got rooms to let, and I want one for my family, or I’ll crawl over this counter, and when I get done with you, you’ll look like hammered shit!”

“I can count.” The clerk had a superior look. “The owner of this hotel made it plain to me that some rooms were for two occupants only. Other rooms have cots. They are taken. The only rooms left are for two.”

“What’s the problem, Tom?”

“This jackass won’t rent me a room because of the kids.”

Jack moved behind the counter. “Sign the register, Tom.” Then to the clerk, “You’ve got seven keys here.” He pointed to the keyboard. “Which rooms are vacant?”

“Now, see here. You’ve no right to come in here and tell me how to run this hotel.”

“
Some
body better tell you. You’re doing a piss-poor job of it.” Jack plucked a key off the board and slammed it down on the counter. “Number ten.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Tom picked up his daughter and with his hand behind his wife ushered her toward the stairs as another man stepped up to the counter.

Jack took his own room key off the peg and tossed it to Joe before he spoke again to the clerk.

“First come, first served. It doesn’t matter if there are six to a room. Understand?”

“You’ll hear from the owner.”

“The owner is in Kansas City and doesn’t give a damn about what’s going on here. Now, am I going to have to stand here and see that you don’t turn anyone away because of your damn fool policy?” When the clerk didn’t answer, Jack spoke to the man who had signed the register and handed him a key. “Hi, Pete. Were you able to get your animals out?”