Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (35 page)

“Now see here, I ain’t agoin’ ta be talked of like I warn’t even here. Ain’t nobody can say Amy ain’t mine. Ask Libby. She were there when Amy was born. Stith knowed her ma too, ain’t that right Stith?”

Farr turned his frosty gaze on Elija.

“You’re just about as rotten a father as I’ve come across. I’ve no proof that you didn’t sire Amy or Liberty. God only knows how two fine women could have come from the likes of you.”

Stith shouldered Elija aside. “I’m getting tired of this pussyfootin’. We come to get the girl, and by Gawd—”

“Shut your mouth and step aside,” Nathan Heald said sternly. “This is none of your affair.”

Stith’s light eyes looked down on the shorter man as if he’d like to run him through with a saber. He seethed with the desire to lash out at the captain, but he didn’t dare.

“Are you the law here or not? I’m athinkin’ yo’re scared a this backwoods clod!”

“Open your mouth again, Mr. Lenning, and I’ll order the troops to seize you and give you ten lashes.” Nathan Heald’s eyes were dark with anger, his voice more deadly because he spoke softly. He deliberately turned his back and spoke to Farr. “Let’s get on with this.”

“Amy,” Farr called without taking his eyes off Hammond. “Come out and say hello to your pa.”

Elija started forward when Amy and Liberty came from the cabin, but Farr stepped in front of him. Amy went to where Colby, Rain and Juicy stood beneath the oak tree. She caught hold of Juicy’s arm, and they moved forward a few paces.

“Hello, Papa.”

“Amy, I’m wantin’ ya to come—”

“Say hello to my husband, Papa.” She hugged Juicy’s arm and smiled up into his face.

There was flat silence while the statement and its ramifications were absorbed. Elija looked as if he had been struck in the stomach. Stith let out a bellow of rage and took a threatening step forward. The captain flung his hand out in warning and Stith moved back. Amy pressed close to Juicy and he put his arm around her.

Liberty watched Amy. She couldn’t believe the show she was putting on. She fingered Juicy’s beard and pressed her head to his shoulder. She had told her to act as if she were happy, but now she was afraid Amy would overdo it. Elija watched too. He sagged in defeat as Liberty had seen him do so many times before, but there was no pity in her heart for him this time.

Juicy held out his hand to Elija. “Howdy . . . Pa.”

There were loud guffaws from the troops, who had inched up to hear what was going on. Hammond whirled to glare at them and they fell silent.

“Ya didn’t—ya didn’t wed this ole man?” Elija wailed.

“I married him. I am Mrs. Deverell, Papa. Isn’t it grand? You wanted me to have a husband, and I loved Juicy right from the first.”

“But . . . but he be old. He ain’t—cain’t—”

“Hold on, Papa!” Juicy pointed his gnarled finger at Elija. His white beard flopped on his chest as he shook his head angrily. “’Cause ya cain’t, don’t mean I cain’t. I ain’t havin’ no sich talk made ta my wife. Not from her pa, not from nobody.”

“This seems to settle it,” Captain Heald said. He made no attempt to disguise the fact that he was pleased.

“I beg to differ, Captain.” Hammond cleared his throat noisily. “Bedding this, ah, woman, doesn’t make for a legal union.” He eyed Amy rudely.

“Why, ya young whippersnipe! It be legal,” Juicy roared. He dug beneath his tunic, pulled the marriage paper from his belt and waved it under Hammond’s nose. When Hammond would have taken it, Juicy snatched it back and handed it to the captain. “Preacher Ellefson read the words ’n put his name ta the paper. Wedded and bedded. Ain’t a damn thin’ ya can do.”

Stith let out a roar of rage. Before anyone realized his intentions, he lowered his head and charged at Farr, striking him in the chest with his head. The attack caught Farr unaware. The momentum carried both men six feet before they fell, Stith sprawled on top of Farr.

Rain sprang. As quick as a flash of lightning he was on Stith’s back, his hand in his hair pulling his head back. The blade of his hunting knife was pressed to Stith’s throat.

“Hold it, Rain. Don’t kill him yet.” Colby stood over them and touched Rain on the shoulder, then said to Stith, “Get off him, you piece of horseshit.”

Stith was afraid to move. The blade bit into the skin of his neck.

“Let him up, Rain.” Farr gasped. “Let me get my breath. I’m going to stomp his ass into the ground.”

Rain removed the knife and stepped back. Stith got up and moved back until the tip of Rain’s knife poked him in the spine. He stopped.

“I’m not fightin’ a gawddamned kid!”

“No, but you wanted to take one to bed and ruin her.” Rain spoke so softly that no one heard but Stith. “If you ever touch her I’ll kill you.” He pushed the tip of the knife blade into Stith’s back to give emphasis to his words.

Farr got to his feet. Liberty grabbed his forearm with both hands.

“Are you all right? That was a cowardly thing for him to do!” She glared at Stith. “You’ve never done a
fair
thing in your life! Coward!” she flung at him.

“Stay back out of the way, Libby. I’ve wanted a piece of his hide since I first heard his name.”

“Don’t fight him. He—”

“Do as I say, Liberty Bell. Look to the kids. Colby, Rain, keep them out of the way.” He gave Liberty a gentle shove toward Colby. “The man wants a fight, Captain, and I’m going to oblige him.”

“I haven’t seen a good fight in a long while. Got your wind back, Quill?”

“Just about.” He breathed deeply, removed his buckskin shirt, his knife and a plunder bag that hung from the waist of his trousers. He handed these things to Rain while keeping his eyes on Stith. Lenning had removed his shirt and was talking to Elija. Farr nodded to the captain.

“Have at it,” the captain said and stepped back.

“I’m agoin’ to bust you up. I’m agoin’ to stomp your guts loose,” Stith bragged as he came toward Farr.

“You’ll not do it jawing.” Farr leaped and hit him. He threw the punch unexpectedly, a blow that would have stunned a normal man. Stith caught the fist flush in the mouth and reeled back, a tooth sheared completely off. When he spit it out his lips were covered with blood. For an instant he stared, unable to believe a man inches shorter and pounds lighter could do that. “That was for ramming me when I wasn’t looking.”

Stith charged with a bellow of rage, his boots pounding the grass. Farr threw up an arm to weather the windmilling attack, but a fist broke through, landing a blow to his jaw. Stith butted Farr’s chest with his head. With a grunt of pain, Farr went backward, his feet stamping for purchase. He gained his balance and struck Stith a glancing blow over the left eye, opening a deep gash, but the huge man gave no indication that he had even been hit.

Stith was a grappling type of fighter. He tried to hug Farr, but Farr kept batting his arms away. Stith lowered his head for another charge and Farr let him come on, but before Stith could hit him, Farr’s fist came up with such force that Stith’s head snapped up and his body arched backward. He staggered, but didn’t fall. The big man had the weight and the strength to plant his feet wide apart and become as rooted as an oak tree.

Stith stood panting, bleeding from the nose and mouth. He watched Farr move around him and he growled like an animal, deep in his chest.

Farr moved in swinging. Stith grabbed him around the waist and applied pressure. Farr arched his back as he stiffened to resist this tremendous force, but Stith’s arms had the strength of a bull as he squeezed. His heavy boots thrashed about, trying to stamp down on Farr’s moccasined feet. Failing in this, Stith began to bring his head forward in short, sharp raps, striking Farr in the face. He bloodied Farr’s nose and raised livid cuts over Farr’s eyes. Then Farr cupped both hands, drew his arms apart and slapped Stith smartly over both ears.

Stith screamed, dropped his arms to clasp his hands over his ears, and doubled over. The sudden concussion rendered him momentarily helpless and Farr sank down on one knee, painfully drawing gulps of air into his tortured lungs. Slowly he pulled himself up and moved toward Stith. He struck him on the base of the skull with his fist, but lacked the power to knock him to the ground. Stith grabbed Farr by the ankle and threw him backward, then jumped on him. Farr turned and took the huge man’s weight on his hip.

They were at the edge of the woodpile. Stith reached for a stake and swung it. Throwing up an arm, Farr deflected the blow with his upper arm. Pain shot through his arm and shoulder. For an instant he thought it was broken. A grunt escaped him and he heard a woman cry out.

Liberty felt as though her own body had been struck. She pressed both hands over her mouth. And then to her horror she saw Stith’s hand grope and find the axe. In blind urgency she ran forward. Farr was gripping Stith’s wrist, trying to keep him from raising the axe. The pile of stakes beside the woodpile were stout and over two feet long. Liberty grabbed one and swung, catching Stith on the shoulder. He yelped and dropped the axe to grab the stake. Liberty clung to it like a dog at the end of a rope.

“Goddamnit, Libby!” Colby shouted. He and Rain jerked her back, leaving the end of the stake in Stith’s hand.

Stith, standing over Farr, raised the stake and brought it down. Farr, rolling to avoid the blow, saw the axe. He gripped it just above the blade and swung with all his strength. The handle caught Stith on the side of the head and stunned him. Farr got to his feet and swung again. The blow caught Stith on the collarbone and he yelled like a wounded bear. Stith tried to swing a backhanded blow, but he was disoriented and staggered blindly.

“Had . . . enough?” Farr gasped, dropped the axe and drew back his fist.

Stith looked at him stupidly. With the last of his strength Farr hit him. Stith’s knees buckled slowly. He shook his head like a bull and mumbled something through his smashed mouth, then sank to the ground.

A cheer went up from the troops who had been shouting encouragement to Farr from the beginning. It was enough for them to favor Farr if the lieutenant was against him.

Farr turned, his eyes seeking Liberty. They found her, and he reeled toward her on not-quite-steady legs. She met him with tears streaming down her face. His was bruised and swollen. Blood oozed from a dozen cuts. He shrugged off her hands when she reached out to touch him.

“If you ever . . . step into my fight again, I’ll . . . beat your butt!” he gasped. He wanted to say more, but it hurt too much.

H
ammond Perry stood ramrod stiff, his hands clasped behind his back, and watched the fight. He fervently hoped Lenning would gouge the bastard’s eyes out. In all his thirty years, Hammond had never hated a man as he hated Farrway Quill. Quill had been a thorn in his side since the first day they had met over a year before. And to further increase Hammond’s dislike, Governor Harrison held Quill up as an example of the type of person needed to settle and hold the territory until it could be brought into statehood.

On Hammond’s first mission to the area, the governor had sent a message to Quill. He and his troops had camped at Quill’s Station. Hammond had had a run-in with Quill that night over the disciplining of his men. Although the man he had ordered to be flogged had deserved the punishment for insubordination, Quill had interfered, and Hammond lost face with his men. After that Quill had bucked him each and every time they met. Quill had completely ignored Hammond when the governor entertained him and the officers at a dinner at the mansion a few months back, and Hammond still smarted from the snub.

This time Quill had gone too far, Hammond thought. He and the chit would pay for putting him down in front of Captain Heald and his troops. If Lenning didn’t kill Quill, he would, or better yet, he would find a way to get to Quill through the chit. He had seen Quill looking at her as if she were a gold nugget. Hammond was convinced Quill was as obsessed with his brother’s widow as Lenning was. Lenning hadn’t been able to talk about anything except how he was going to make her rue the day she refused him.

The troops behind Hammond were cheering. He turned to give them a quelling look, but they were so wrapped up in the fight they didn’t even look at him, and Hammond didn’t dare shout an order. Captain Heald was cheering too.

Not everyone in the territory was wrapped up in Farrway Quill, Hammond thought smugly. Mrs. Thompson and her daughter had had nothing good to say about him or the Widow Perry the night he and the captain had supper with them. The mother had pushed the fat girl, Harriet, his way, and Hammond had walked out with her. It hadn’t taken Hammond any time at all to learn everything that had taken place at Quill’s Station during the last few months. At Lenning’s homestead, Elija Carroll told him of Jubal’s death and of his daughter’s marriage to Quill.

Hammond’s eyes swept the compound and settled on the indentured girl the Thompsons had told him about. He had seen her before. Willa Carrathers had been in Vincennes with Norman Cooley and his wife. Cooley had spent a great deal of his time in the tavern swilling ale, and when in his cups, he talked. Several times Cooley had hinted about the girl’s mysterious past and her connection with someone high up in government circles.

According to the Thompson girl, Quill had demanded the indentured woman be turned over to him, and her father, afraid of Quill, complied. Having the girl in Quill’s household could be something he could use now against Quill, Hammond thought with a satisfied smile.

The fight was over. Goddamn Quill. If not for the chit, Lenning might have split his head with the axe. He barked an order to the sergeant, and two men went to help Lenning get on his horse. An idea was beginning to form in Hammond’s mind, an idea that would totally discredit Farrway Quill with the governor. He ran his eyes slowly over the girl, Willa. He would talk again to the Thompson woman, using the fact that she was angry with Quill and the chit for taking her servant. He would talk to Stith Lenning and use his hatred of Quill. He was sure he could find out all the tavern owner knew, and he would locate Norman Cooley.