Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (42 page)

“Well!” She gave him a sassy grin. “You’re just going to have to work harder at getting that job done, Mr. Quill. Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

*  *  *

Night came early. It was clear and cold. A large red moon came up over the treetops. Although eager to get home, the settlers decided to stay the night and see the Luscombs decently buried in the morning.

Guards were posted, even though Farr was reasonably sure the danger had passed. The women and children were settled for the night in the house, three or four to a bed, and on pallets spread on the floor. The men and older boys bedded down in the empty barracks building where a fire had been going all day in the fireplace. It was not as warm as the house, but it was reasonably comfortable.

Florence and Harriet Thompson took their blankets into Colby and Juicy’s room, getting as far away from the others as they could. Mrs. Thompson was still smarting from the beating her pride had taken the last time they were there.

As far as Willa knew they had not spoken to anyone. They watched her with hate-filled eyes. It had made her extremely nervous for the first hour or so after they arrived. But then she became so busy she almost forgot about them. She had given all her attention to the three older Luscomb children and their grandmother. Amy had solved the problem of feeding the baby for the day, but the Sufferite woman had left the stockade, and some other arrangement would have to be made.

When the house was quiet, Willa lay on her pallet, wide-eyed and awake. The infant was beside her. She wondered what she would do to keep it quiet if it awakened and wanted to eat again. The last of the milk had been doled out to the children before anyone thought to save some for the baby.

An idea that she wanted to talk over with Liberty had been in the back of her mind all evening. She remembered from her childhood in London that many babies were raised on goat’s milk. Sugar Tree loved children. She and Mr. Washington had a couple of goats—if Sugar Tree hadn’t butchered them. Willa thought now that that was a likely possibility. She hated the thought of the Sufferites taking the Luscomb baby. She hoped there would be some way the children could stay together, but that too was a remote possibility.

The immediate problem was feeding the baby. She decided she would get up early, really early, go to the barn and milk. Perhaps the infant would sleep until then.

*  *  *

In the wee hours of the morning the baby began to whimper. Willa woke instantly and put the sugar tit in its mouth. It sucked noisily and drifted back to sleep. She got up and knelt beside Amy’s pallet.

“Amy,” she whispered. “Wake up.”

“Huh?”

“I’m going out to milk. Move over by the baby and keep the sugar tit in its mouth.”

Amy grunted and shuffled sleepily over to the other pallet.

Willa pulled a sliver of wood from the coals in the fireplace, blew on it until it blazed, then lit the lantern. She took Colby’s coat from the peg on the wall, threw it around her shoulders and went out into the cold darkness. The stars were bright. The moon, having nearly completed its journey across the sky, shone faintly through the trees to the west. It was good to be out of the stuffy cabin. Nothing stirred. Usually when she came out to milk the geese waddled out to meet her. But not that morning. They were in a pen down by the springhouse to keep them out from underfoot.

Willa reached the barn, pulled open the heavy door, and slipped inside. She heard the lowing of the milch cow, raised the lantern and saw her at the end of the barn, tied to a rail. There were six stalls in the barn, three on each side, and a long narrow aisle between. Loose hay was piled at the end and the cow was chewing contentedly. Willa took a bucket from the nail on the post, hung her lantern on the nail, and hunkered down beside the cow.

“Bossy, bossy,” she crooned, her head snug against the side of the cow. “We got to have milk for the babe.”

Her strong, experienced fingers pressed the cow’s udder, then she grasped a teat in each hand. The stream of milk from first one teat and then the other hit the bottom of the bucket with a familiar swishing sound.

“Bossy, bossy, good bossy,” she continued to murmur to the cow as she milked. Willa liked to milk, liked the smell of the cow, the warm milk. Bossy was such a calm, contented animal.

One of the horses moved restlessly in its stall. Willa looked over her shoulder and thought that perhaps it was the colt, or maybe the mare was coming in heat which would make the stallion restless. She continued to milk until she heard a scraping sound, then a muffled curse. Fear brought her to her feet and turned her around. She gasped.

Stith Lenning stepped out into the aisle from one side and another man came from the other. The man stepped back, and Stith Lenning walked down the aisle ahead of him.

“I tole ya she’d come out. Didn’t I tell ya? Didn’t I, Mr. Lenning? The Injun said she’d come afore daylight. She ain’t a bad looker fer a bond gal.”

“What do you want?” Willa backed against the cow. The words came out in a choked whisper.

She had never seen Stith Lenning up close. Looking at him now she could see why Liberty feared and hated him. His eyes were such a light gray they barely had any color to them at all. His face was broad, his mouth and nose big, and his hands—the one that came up and clamped over her mouth before she could scream was big too.

Fear made Willa almost crazy. She lashed out with her hands and feet, her blows landing on his chest and chin, but her puny strength only irritated him. He held her away from him. With one hand over her mouth and the other at the back of her head, he lifted her by the head until she stood on tiptoe.

“Be still,” he snarled, “or I’ll break your damn neck. Get a rag to stuff in her mouth.”

Willa was more frightened than she’d ever been in her life. Oh, Colby! Farr! Somebody! Please come, she thought. In desperation she began to struggle again. Stith swung her roughly about. His hand left her mouth, but the instant it did, the other man filled it with a dirty rag. Willa gagged as the rag was tied securely in place. Her hands were pulled behind her back and bound tightly.

Now that she was silenced, the other man moved close and ran his hand down over her breast. She struck out at him with her foot and he grinned, showing stubs of broken teeth. He was fairly young, but his face was scarred from many fights and his eyes were bloodshot and watery. He wore a knit cap on his head and a heavy wool coat. It was the clothing of a riverman.

Stith looked at her closely, and when the man lifted his hand to her breast again, Stith knocked it away.

“We got what we come for. Let’s go.”

“I ain’t had me nothin’ like this fer a long time. I’d shore like ta see what’s under them skirts.”

“It’s the same as under any skirt. You can have all you want of it as soon as we get her down to my place. Now get up in the loft and drop down. I’ll get her up there and lower her down to you.”

Willa’s eyes went wide with fear. She hadn’t known there was a place to get out of the barn from the back. The barn was built out of upright logs, the same as the stockade, and they had used the barn as a section.

“Ya want that I tip that lantern in the hay?” The weasel-faced man was already on the rungs leading to the loft.

“No, you fool. It’d draw attention and we need to be long gone from here before she’s missed. Get on up there.”

Stith yanked on Willa’s arm and shoved her toward the ladder. She shook her head. There was no way she could climb it with her hands tied behind her back. Stith seemed to realize that. He picked her up and flung her over his shoulder. Jackknifed, she had the wind knocked out of her. Her head swam and she thought she would throw up. She knew if she did she’d choke to death.

Stith went up the ladder to the loft. Bending low because there wasn’t room in the loft for him to stand erect, he felt his way along the wall to the end of the barn. He set Willa on her feet and with one hand clamped to her arm, he stuck his head out through an opening and looked down.

“Psst! Are you there?

“Yeah.”

I’ll drop her down.

Willa began to struggle again, her fear giving her strength.

“Goddamnit! Be still!” Stith jerked her to him and slapped her so hard her head struck the wall. Stunned, she sagged against him. He picked her up and pushed her feet and legs through the opening. Then, with his hands beneath her arms he lowered her.

Willa vaguely realized the man below had grasped her around the legs and heard him say: “I got her. Ya can let go.”

The full length of her slid down the man’s body. Her skirts came up to her thighs, and she felt a rough hand between her legs. The shock of it brought her to full awareness, and she threw herself away from him, stumbled and fell. Seconds later Stith dropped down beside her.

“Damn you to hell! I said leave her be for now.” Stith bent over and yanked Willa to her feet. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I was jist afeelin’ her twat,” the man whined.

Stith’s hand on her upper arm was like a vice. It propelled Willa’s feet forward. They had gone only a few stumbling steps when they heard a dull thud. Stith stopped and swung halfway around. The man beside them dropped like a stone. Willa was grabbed from behind and yanked out of Stith’s grasp with such force that she was thrown to the ground.

“Get out of the way, Willa!” Farr’s voice came out of the darkness. Willa rolled and rolled until she came up against the back of the barn.

“Gawddamn you, Quill!” Stith bellowed with rage.

“You stupid, raping, son of a bitch!”

“Is talkin’ all you can do?”

“No, by God! I’m going to kill you!”

“Have a go at it then,” Stith snarled.

Farr saw the gleam of the knife blade and drew his from his belt. Both men knew this fight was to the finish, that one of them would die. Farr was determined it wouldn’t be him. He knew better than to get in close to a man Lenning’s size when he had a knife in his hand. He backed off and waited. Stith moved to the side, then back, waiting for a chance to move in. Farr knew these tactics and turned slightly to the side, giving him the chance. Stith lunged. Farr’s move was lightning fast. He drew back his arm and threw his knife with the speed of a well-aimed bullet. Momentum kept Stith coming even after the knife pierced his heart to the hilt. Farr stepped out of the way. Stith passed him and fell.

Farr stood over him for a moment, then turned him over and pulled the knife from his chest. He had been a man and now he was nothing. Farr felt not an ounce of pity for him, for what he was doing to Willa was a vile, treacherous thing.

“Willa,” he called softly. “It’s me, Farr. You’ll be all right now.”

“Mmmm. . . .”

He found her, lifted her into a sitting position and took the dirty rag from her mouth. Willa gagged and gagged, and when she stopped gagging, she began to cry. Farr untied her hands and helped her to her feet.

“Is he . . .”

“He’s dead.” Farr put his arm around her and she leaned against his shoulder. “He wasn’t a knife fighter, but he chose the weapon. It was him or me.”

“There’s a hole in the back of the barn.”

“I found it. I saw the light and came out to see if you were all right. I heard a noise in the loft. When I got up there, they had already dropped you down and Lenning was going out the opening.”

“They were going to take me to his place and he was going to let that other man—” Willa was shivering from the cold and from nerves.

“Don’t think about it.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Are you all right? I’ve got to tie up the one I knocked out. Then we’ll go around to the gate.”

The shock of being taken by force and seeing a man killed had shaken Willa so much that her weak knees could scarcely hold her. When Farr awakened Colby, she fell sobbing in his arms. Farr left her with him, went to Liberty’s pallet and touched her cheek with his fingertips. She was instantly awake.

“Come,” he whispered. He wrapped the blanket around her and they went out into the crisp morning air.

“What’s happened?”

“I just killed Stith Lenning.”

“Oh, my goodness! Are you all right?” She wrapped her arms about his waist. “What in the world was he doing here in the middle of the night?”

He told her about Willa. “She’s with Colby now. Poor girl, she was scared half out of her wits. Colby loves her, you know.”

“I know. But not like I love you. Darling, I’ll be so glad when all the people leave and we’re alone again. But you don’t need me to tell you that now. What do you want me to do?”

*  *  *

Stith Lenning’s body was brought in and laid out some distance from where the Luscombs lay in their hastily built coffins. The men wandered over to look at him.

“Don’t look like it was much of a fight.” Amos Palmer stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“He daid, ain’t he?” Juicy snorted.

“Ain’t no marks on Quill, is they?”

“’Course they ain’t. Farr’s as good with a blade as anybody I ever did see. He can pin a fly ta the wall if’n he takes the notion.”

“I just said there ain’t no marks on Quill.”

“I heared what ya said, dadblameit! Are ya sayin’ Farr didn’t give ’em a chance at ’em?” There was a threatening edge to Juicy’s voice.

“I ain’t asayin’ nothin’. I ain’t the big muckity-muck ’roun’ here.”

“Ya be a whisker away a bein’ nothin’ a’tall.” Juicy spoke slowly and his hand moved down to the knife in his belt.

“Now simmer down.” Edward Brown stepped in between the two men. “We’re all jumpy. We can’t be fightin’ amongst ourselves. We got these folks to bury. Think of those poor younguns without no ma and pa.”

The men gathered around the breakfast fire. The talk was of nothing but the attempt to kidnap Willa and the killing of Stith Lenning.

“Women what go flauntin’ themselves is trouble sure enuff. It was untimely early fer her ta be out thar in the barn. Seems like somethin’ ain’t right somehow.” Amos Palmer, stung at backing off from an old man, continued to voice his opinion.

“What do you mean? Do you think the girl wanted to be dragged away by those men?” Maude was turning meat in the big spider skillet and whipped the smoke away from her face with the end of her apron.