Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (46 page)

“I promised you Liberty Quill.”

“By God! I ain’t goin’ ta stand fer it!”

“You obey my orders, or by God, you’ll get no money from me. Get the nigger out here.”

“Have ya gone loony? I ain’t puttin’ my pecker where no nigger’s been, by God!”

Hammond’s shoulders reared back even more, and his head slanted back.

“I give the orders. Hump her, screw her, board her, I don’t give a goddamn what you do to her, but bring that nigger out and let him watch. He’ll be so horny by the time you’re through, he’ll split her in two.” A mad gleam glowed in Hammond’s eyes. “Lay back, Miss Quill, and spread yourself for the pleasure of my . . . associates. My moment of revenge has arrived.”

“No, please!” Mercy sobbed frantically. “Please . . . please . . . no!” She twisted and turned, trying desperately to break loose from the hands holding her.

“Beg, you slut!” he shouted. “I only wish Farr Quill was here to see it.” Hammond reached out and yanked down the front of her dress, found the nipple of her breast, and squeezed viciously. A shrill scream tore from Mercy’s throat. Hammond laughed. “Get the nigger.”

Mercy’s frantic eyes turned to the cage. The whiskered man lifted the bar and opened the door.

“Come on out ’n’ see the show nigger boy. Yore goin’ ta get ya some a that pussy when we is done. I jist bet ya’ve got a stick as big as a fence post in yore britches right now.”

“Gerrit! Please . . . Gerrit!” Mercy sobbed. The big Negro looked at her, blinked his eyes several times, and moved slowly out into the room. “Gerrit, help me!”

The riverman wrapped her hair around his hand and, twisting it up tight, held her head tilted up to him.

“He ain’t goin’ ta help ya. Ain’t nobody goin’ ta.”

As soon as as he slammed her down on the bunk, she struggled to get up. Hammond laughed shrilly. He put his foot on her hair and held her. Almost out of her mind with terror, she screamed and screamed.

“Shut up, ya uppity slut!” Hammond drew back his arm and slapped her across the face with such force, it knocked her head against the wall. Her screaming stopped and was replaced by a moan of pain. She felt something heavy drop on her. Her eyes flew open to see the whiskered man’s face just inches from hers. The tip of his tongue was running over loose lips that were spread in a wolfish grin.

“Danny,” she whimpered. “Danny, Danny . . .” Something snapped in her mind, and she screamed again and again and again.

Mercy never heard the guttural sounds that came from Gerrit’s throat, as if the low rumblings had started deep within him before errupting in a roar that she heard over her own screams. Vaguely she felt the weight lifted from her when Gerrit plucked the man off her and flung him to the floor.

Hammond Perry looked up into the face of a madman. He had never seen such a terrifying sight and was momentarily stunned. The Negro’s eyes were wild, his mouth an open red cavern. Earsplitting shouts of high fury filled the small cabin, and the air fairly crackled with his rage. The hands that reached to encircle Hammond’s neck were as large as a washpan. Hammond knew one moment of intense terror before he was lifted from the floor by the neck like a chicken. Gerrit shook the small man until his neck snapped and his tongue came out. Then he threw him against the wall, where he lay twisted, broken, and lifeless.

Mercy saw what was happening as if she were living a nightmare. She was mad. She had to be. Nothing like this had ever happened. Her mind whirled through a black void, spinning her dizzily into oblivion.

The whiskered man recovered from his terror and drew the gun from his belt. He took aim and fired as Gerrit’s hamlike fist swung. The bullet struck, Gerrit stumbled back a step. Then he charged the man, roaring like a mad bull. The terrified man tried to fight him off with the butt of the pistol, but it was a puny effort. The maddened strength of the beast increased. Gerrit picked him up bodily and slammed his head against the stone chimney. It split like a melon.

Gerrit stopped suddenly and stood swaying. A blank look came over his face, his rage leaving him as quickly as it had come. He held his hand to his side, where blood seeped through his fingers and dripped to the earthen floor. He turned his eyes to the woman who lay on the bunk as still as death. Her face was ghostly white amid the masses of gleaming blond hair that spread across her bared breast. Gerrit turned his head this way and that and mumbled, “Purty, purty.”

Melcher cowered in the far corner, his gun in his hand. His life depended on one shot. Slowly he eased himself to his feet, his eyes on the Negro, who looked more animal than man.

“Ya bloody beast!” He snarled. He held the gun at arm’s length and aimed it at Gerrit’s heart.

The door flew open. A woman stood there. Wet hair hung in strings about her face, her wet skirt wrapped about her legs. The rifle in her hands was unwavering. Which of the two were the greatest threat, the woman or the beast? Melcher made an instant decision. He fired his gun. As Gerrit fell, he flung the empty gun at the woman in the doorway and drew his knife. He took one step before the blast from the rifle threw him back against the wall. He hung there. His mouth was wide-open, his hands clawing at his chest where blood was spurting.

“Ya . . . kilt me.” He sagged slowly down the wall to the floor and sat there, his eyes open and staring.

*   *   *

Mercy fought her way to consciousness, moaning and sobbing in terror. She screamed for Daniel, for her papa and her mamma.

“I’m here, darling. I’m here.” Arms were around her, her mother’s reassuring voice in her ear. “Don’t be afraid. It’s over, darling. You’re safe now.”

Mercy sobbed uncontrollably and clung to Liberty, who held her and stroked her hair. It was agonizing minutes before the terrified girl grew quiet. Mercy raised her tearstained face and glanced around fearfully.

“Are they gone?” she whispered.

“They’re still here, but they’re dead. All of them,” Liberty added coldly. “Tennessee and I came as soon as poor Jeems dragged himself to the house.”

“They let Gerrit out . . . he killed Hammond Perry. I was glad! Mamma! I was so afraid—”

“Did they . . . hurt you?” Liberty asked, and pulled Mercy’s dress over her bare breast.

“They brought Gerrit out to watch. He . . . went crazy all of a sudden—”

“Gerrit’s dead.” Tennessee came and knelt down beside the bunk where Liberty sat holding Mercy. “He lived for a few minutes. I held his hand and soothed his forehead. He seemed to be in his right mind. He called me . . . Mamma.” Huge tears trickled down Tennessee’s cheeks. “Poor boy.”

Liberty clucked her tongue sadly. “Jeems will be lost without him.”

“Did they hurt Jeems?”

“He saw your light hair hanging down just before the man struck him down. He didn’t know if it was you or I. The poor old man, as badly hurt as he was, staggered all the way to the house.”

“Did Gerrit kill all of them?” Mercy avoided looking at the bodies on the floor.

“We’ll talk about it when we get home. Daniel will be out of his mind with worry. He was worried because you were not in the house when it started to rain. I was just going out to look for you when Jeems came staggering up to the door.”

“Liberty got the guns. We left Eleanor to cope with Daniel, and Minnie with Jeems.” Tennessee found an old coat and covered Gerrit’s face.

“I thank God Farr taught me to use the rifle.” Liberty helped her daughter to her feet.

“I was sure I’d never see any of you again. Hammond Perry wanted to make sure that I knew who he was. He said he wished Papa was there to see what he was going to do. Hammond said . . . that they would leave me here with Gerrit, and that Gerrit would be hung—”

“Gerrit saved you. That will be a comfort to Jeems.”

Liberty looked down at the man who had dealt her and her loved ones so much misery over the past twenty years. He lay there, like a small poisonous snake, looking even smaller in death.

“This was a fitting end for you, Hammond Perry. The world would have been a better place if you never had been born.”

Liberty Quill took her daughter’s hand, and they walked out into the dark, wet night.

*   *   *

Minnie was waiting on the stoop with a lantern when the three wet, tired women approached the house.

“Dat you? Dat you?” Minnie called. “If dat not Miz Quill, I goin’ ta shoot.”

“It’s us, Minnie. Don’t shoot.,” Liberty called, and then added to Mercy and Tennessee, “She doesn’t even have a gun.”

“Ya bringin’ dat chile back?”

“Yes, and she’s all right.”

“Praise de Lord! Hal-le-lu-jah!” Minnie shouted. “Mistah Dan, she a-comin! Miz Quill done found dat chile! Hurry on up in here,” she said, scolding. “Mistah Dan ’bout fit ta be tied, he so worried.”

Minnie’s arms crushed Mercy against her voluptuous softness.

“I’m all right, Minnie. Just wet.”

“Just wet? Den what yo dress a-doin’ all tore up?” she demanded.

“We’ll tell you about it later, Minnie,” Liberty said, and held open the door.

The first thing Mercy saw when they all crowded into the house was Daniel, sitting in a chair right in the middle of the kitchen with a rifle across his lap.

“Thank God you’re here,” Eleanor exclaimed. “He was going outside to look for you.”

“Danny!” Mercy ran to him, knelt down, and buried her face against his side. The rifle was lifted from his lap, and his hand cupped her head and held it to him.

“Sweetheart, love! Oh, God, I was so worried.”

“Danny, I thought I’d never see you again.”

“What happened to her?” Daniel’s eyes were as cold as steel as he looked into Liberty’s.

“Hammond Perry,” Liberty said quietly. “Hammond Perry took her to Jeem’s cabin. Nothing happened. Gerrit saved her.”

“And . . . Perry?”

“He’s dead.”

“The men with him?”

“Dead too. We’ll tell you everything, but first I’ve something to tell Jeems.”

Some of the tenseness went out of Daniel’s shoulders. He hugged his wife to him and kissed the top of her head.

Liberty went to kneel down beside Jeems, who had never in his life remained seated in the presence of white people. He sat now at the table because Daniel had insisted that he sit there and eat the food Minnie had prepared.

“Jeems,” Liberty said gently, “Gerrit is dead.”

“Lordy, Lordy!”

“He died saving Mercy from being raped and killed by the men who hurt you. I’m so sorry.” She patted the old man’s arm. “Gerrit was very brave. We’re proud and grateful for what both of you did for us. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep the man from shooting him.”

“Gerrit dead. Oh, Lordy. I gots ta go ta him.”

“No. Stay here with us tonight. Tomorrow we’ll see that Gerrit has a burial. He wasn’t alone when he died. Tennessee held his hand. And, Jeems, he called her . . . Mamma. Wherever he is, he’ll not have to be locked up or afraid. He’s with someone who loves him.”

“Lordy. Oh, Lordy, Miz Quill . . .” Tears streamed down the old man’s face. Minnie came to put her arms around him, and Liberty stood to wipe her eyes.

Eleanor and Tennessee wiped away tears, and Mercy, her head against Daniel, suddenly looked up into his drawn face. Sweat was beaded on his forehead, and he was clenching his jaws so tightly together that the muscles jumped.

“How did you get out here to the kitchen?” Mercy asked.

“He hopped on one foot and used the rifle for a crutch,” Eleanor said. “Gavin is the stubbornest man in the world, and Daniel is right behind him.”

“You’ve got to get back in the bed,” Mercy exclaimed, suddenly realizing the effort it must have taken for him just to get out of bed, much less come into the kitchen. Dark spots of blood were on his shirt. “Your shoulder is bleeding again!”

“Tenny and I will take care of him, Mercy,” Liberty said. “Get out of those wet clothes, honey. You’re as exhausted as he is.”

Farr was in Liberty’s thoughts, as he had been since the morning he’d left to look for George, as he always was when he was away from her. He would be angry with himself for not having been there when Hammond Perry had come. Farr had not expected him to come to Quill’s Station, but as always, Perry had done the unexpected, and Mercy had almost been lost to them forever. Hammond had met his end by two whom he considered less than human: Jeems and his demented son, Gerrit. Who would have thought, Liberty mused, that Gerrit, unmanageable for most of his life, would have a lucid moment and see the wrong being done to Mercy?

Farr, darling, hurry home, I miss you so
! Liberty worked to help change the bandage on Daniel’s shoulder and to settle him comfortably in bed. Oh, how she loved these two, who had been orphan waifs so long ago. They were as precious to her as her own flesh and blood. Hester Baxter, whom Amy had named Mercy, and Daniel, the serious little boy, had grown up to be in love and married—to each other. How fast the time had gone by.

Hurry home, Farr, I’ve so much to tell you
!

*   *   *

They were finally alone. The door was closed, and Mercy snuggled close to Daniel’s side, her head resting on his uninjured shoulder, her face tilted to his. They talked and talked, between soft kisses. Mercy told him every detail that she could remember about her ordeal. He told her that he had died a thousand deaths while she was gone.

“I never thought when I went out to find the cat that so much would happen. If not for Gerrit, and Jeems coming to get Mamma—” She felt a chill and shuddered.

“I’ll see that Jeems is taken care of for the rest of his life.” He hugged her to him and tried to push away the chilling thought that he had almost lost her.

“I’ll hurt you,” she whispered, and moved away slightly.

“Come back—you’ll not hurt me! Sweetheart, I hope never again to feel the pain that I felt in my heart when you couldn’t be found. They tried to keep it from me that Mamma and Tenny had gone out looking for you, but I knew in my heart something was wrong. I have never felt so helpless, or had so much fury. If something had happened to you . . .” he whispered in an agonized voice, and buried his face in her hair like a child seeking comfort. “I just want to kiss you and kiss you and hold you. But I know that bastard hit you and you’re bruised and sore.” He moved his head to kiss her lips, his mouth so tender on hers, so reverent, that it almost brought tears.