Sharon Poppen (2 page)

A ray of sunshine warmed Hannah’s eyelids. She woke slowly, processing the horrors she experienced. She worked at opening her eyes and managed at least a slit. She struggled to a sitting position and surveyed her cabin. Its ransacked appearance threatened to push her back onto the mattress, but she knew she had to act if she was to survive. She struggled to her feet, pulling the bed sheet around her and began to take inventory.

She stumbled about the cabin in a daze until she tripped over Jacob’s body. She screamed and jumped back a few steps. They had left his body where it had fallen. Despite his lifeless open eyes, his body was stretched out as if asleep. His face had relaxed from its usual look of worry and distaste and he looked at peace. His resemblance to his brother caused Hannah to moan with anguish and dread as to what she was still to find. Bile rose in her throat. She pulled the sheet tighter, stepped over Jacob and ran out into the yard.

She found Caleb face down in the dirt a few steps from the cabin door. Falling to her knees, she turned him over and pulled him into her arms. She eased into a sitting position and embraced his head against her sheet-cover bosom.

Finally, she wept. Quiet tears made their way down her cheeks and fell onto her beloved husband. Hannah’s fingers gently brushed and combed her tears into his sun-streaked hair. Hours passed as she fought to make some sense of what had happened. Finally, the heat of the sun and the buzz of an army of flies brought her back to reality and thoughts of what needed to be done.

She kissed Caleb’s forehead, closed his eyes and eased him down onto the ground. Getting to her feet, she realized she needed to clean herself and get dressed. A look at the abuse the sun and flies were causing to Caleb’s body, made her decide the bath could wait. She hurried into the house and donned a loose fitting cotton nightgown.

Once dressed, she drug Jacob’s body out into the yard and left it in the dirt. She drug Caleb’s body into their garden and covered him with rocks to thwart the elements, flies and other vile predators. She wished his spirit along. Prayers to God were not offered. She ignored the body of Jacob, leaving it to rot in the sun.

*****

Four days after the attack, Hannah decided it was time to leave this place with its ugly memories. The invaders had taken their two horses, along with the few weapons Caleb had kept on hand. She turned the cattle lose from their pens to fend for themselves. She wished them well, but this was Texas and she’d just been taught that, in Texas, it was every man, woman and cow for themselves.

Clad in Caleb’s shirt and overalls, with her feet encased in several pair of his socks and tucked into his work boots, Hannah walked away from the cabin. Even the thought of a dress over her scarred and bruised body, turned her stomach. And, she needed Caleb to be with her as she moved on, even if it was only through his smell, his essence in his clothes.

Her focus and motivation were based on a strong urge for retaliation when she began to walk. Caleb’s death had to be avenged, of that she was determined. Over the past few days, she’d become obsessed with what she now referred to as a mission, a mission that demanded her full attention and drove her forward. As she walked, she repeated what was becoming her mantra.

“Drake. Benny. Beware. I will find you. Beware.”

Chapter 3

The Reverend’s Offer

The dusty town of Nacogdoches shimmered in the distance. Hannah sat on a boulder along a rutted trail that skirted a rare, rolling brook. It had been a long walk from her ranch on the outskirts of Carthage to this city, deeper into the heart of Texas. Although she and Caleb had made few acquaintances in Carthage, she felt it best to head for a larger city where she’d be more apt to hear about Drake.

Her feet ached from every bit of the thirty some miles she’d traveled. It had taken her nearly a week in her weakened condition. She avoided making contact with the occasional wagon or lone riders that had happened along, in order to avoid explaining her bruises and why she was afoot and alone.

Her bones creaked and complained from the hard ground, peppered with small stones, where she’d caught a few hours sleep each night.

Hannah swallowed the last of the venison jerky she brought with her and then bent over to fill her canteen. Despite the gentle flow of the water, she got a glimpse of her reflection and managed a weak smile. Most of the swelling was gone and the yellow-purple bruising had faded. Her days walking in the sun had resulted in a deep tan that masked any trace of the beating she’d taken. She gulped half the water in the canteen and refilled it. Standing up, she did some exaggerated stretching and started walking again.

*****

With her long hair pinned up under Caleb’s Stetson, her mode of dress was hardly noticed as she made her way down the dusty Nacogdoches streets banked by cattle pens, stables, blacksmith shops and saloons. She passed cowboys, Indians, and ranchers who either lolled about talking or hurried about their business. An aroma of fried food drew her attention toward a sign that announced “Eats.”

Up a couple of wooden steps and across a matching walkway, she entered a busy room filled with folks eating and drinking. A portly man walked by carrying a couple plates of stew that left a trail of steam and a rich beefy aroma.

“Over by the window,” he pointed. “Take a seat. I’ll be right with you.” He took the food he was carrying over to a stern looking man seated next to a nervous, pinched face woman.

Hannah relaxed into the welcomed comfort of a padded chair and let the delicious aroma of the room whet her already ravenous appetite. She only had two dollars and could only hope she could get some, actually a lot, of that stew.

“Well,” asked Portly, “what’ll it be?”

“How much is that stew?” Hannah asked.

“All you can eat for fifty cents, along with endless refills of bread and coffee.”

Hannah smiled. “I’ll start with two bowls, please.”

The man nodded and then squinted to boldly check out his customer. “You a woman?” he asked a little too loudly.

Hannah felt eyes bore into her as the chatter in the room faded in wait of her answer.

She nodded.

“Where’d you come from, girlie?”

“Oh, back east. Come to join my brother on his ranch.”

“Here in Nacogdoches?”

“Near here, somewhere. He’s coming to pick me up this afternoon.” Annoyed that he was drawing so much attention to her, she pressed him for the food. “My stew? I’m powerful hungry.”

“Be right back.” He made his way to the kitchen.

Hannah kept her eyes on the scene outside the window to avoid the stares of the other diners. Eventually, the room began to fill with conversation as folks realized they weren’t going to get any additional information. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the stern looking man was watching her closely as he slobbered up his stew. The woman nibbled at little bites of her food and kept her eyes lowered.

“Here ya go, girlie.”

Hannah felt light-headed for a moment as she savored the aroma. She buttered a healthy slice of bread and began to eat. Halfway through the second bowl, she felt like she was being watched and glanced at the stern man. He and his companion nodded at Hannah and both managed a brief smile. She wasn’t sure if it was the lack of warmth in the woman’s smile, the hint of a leer in the man’s smile or just her desire to be left alone, but Hannah turned her attention back to her stew without acknowledging them.

She finished her meal with a sigh of satisfaction, then set her spoon down and reached for a sip of her coffee. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the couple leave. For some reason, this made her relax. Having taken care of her hunger and thirst, she eased back into her chair and stared out into the busy street. Her sense of purpose began nagging at her to make some plans. Should she start her search here, in this town?

It was certainly busy
, she thought,
and would draw unsavory men like Drake to fleece any naïve Indians, newly arrived greenhorns or God fearing ranchers who sought some fun during their rare nights away from the routine loneliness of life on the sparsely populated range. Yes,
she decided.
This was a place that would attract a taker like Drake.

“Ma’am? More?” The portly waiter was back and clearing away her dirty dishes.

“Oh, no, thank you,” Hannah said as she stood up and handed him the money for her meal and an extra ten cents for the service.

“Thanks. Come again,” he called to her back as she headed outside.

“Hello,” said the nervous woman who was standing just outside the eatery door. She touched Hannah’s arm. “My name is Sister Bertha Hoskins. My husband, Reverend Noah Hoskins, is the preacher here in town.”

Hannah’s eyes darted about, but there was no sign of the stern man.

“My husband was concerned about you,” continued the woman. “You look like maybe you’ve had some trouble. He felt that perhaps he, that is, we could help you.”

“My brother is coming…”

“My husband says that you’re too tanned and too roughly dressed to have just arrived from back east.”

Hannah wanted to deny the woman’s assessment, but knew it was true. She’d never pass for a new arrival. She also remembered that she had only $1.40 left. To stay in this town, she’d need a place to sleep and money to pay for food.

What could be safer than to accept help from a preacher?
Despite a nagging, uneasy feeling, Hannah nodded. “I guess I could use some help, at least for awhile.”

Hannah thought she detected a fleeting look of dismay cross Sister Bertha’s face before a pinched smile preceded a slight nod. “Come.” She turned and began to walk. “I’ll take you to our home.”

Hannah fell in step alongside Bertha. “Where’s your husband?”

“Oh, he’s always busy with one thing or another trying to bring people into God’s spiritual fold. He’ll be along shortly.”

Bertha settled Hannah into a small room just off the kitchen area and then started some laundry. Although Hannah attempted to talk to Bertha about the arrangements and what would be expected of her to pay the Hoskins for their kindness, Bertha said they’d discuss that when Noah got home.

The women spent the afternoon heating water, filling washtubs and scrubbing clothes. Once the clothes were rinsed and hung to dry, Bertha began making supper. Noah arrived home at dusk, just as Bertha set the food on the table.

After dinner was finished, Bertha poured two cups of coffee and began to clean up the kitchen. Noah asked Hannah how she came to be in Nacogdoches dressed so poorly and with little money. Hannah took a sip of coffee, and then looked at Noah. She was about to tell her story when Bertha dropped a cup and broke it.

“I’m so sorry. Oh, Noah. I’m so sorry.” The terrified woman apologized in a voice filled with more fear, than the loss of any cup should engender.

“Clean it up, woman.” Noah did not even look at Bertha, but his flash of disgust was not lost on Hannah. “Now, child, tell me how you came to be here.” His attempt at concern fell flat on Hannah’s ears and she made a decision to lie.

“I ran away from home back east. I’ve been moving west as best I can for more than a year now.”

“You must have some interesting stories to tell.” His eyebrows raised in interest.

“Not really. Just lots of walking and little eating.”

Noah ran his finger around his cup and waited. When Hannah offered no more, he finally cleared his throat. “I see. Are you a Christian?”

“My folks weren’t church goers.”

“That’s a real shame, child.”

Hannah nodded.

“Well, if you’re agreeable to stay here for awhile, Bertha and I will show you how to accept God into your heart.”

“I have no money. I can give you $1.40 for a couple nights and some food, but then I’d have to find a way to make some money.”

“I think we can help you,” said Noah. Bertha had finished cleaning up the broken cup and had the kitchen in order. She sat down at the table just as Noah offered Hannah room and board for her services as a housekeeper for both his home and for the small rented room where he conducted his ministry. He never asked for Bertha’s opinion.

Hannah wanted to say no, but she was tired, the food was good and staying in town would give her the opportunity to look for Drake and his men. Against her better judgment, she ignored a warning chill of unease and agreed to the arrangement.

Chapter 4

A Rosy Opportunity

The floor creaked in protest. Hannah cringed. Hearing no reaction from the sleeping Reverend Noah and his wife Bertha, she moved to the small bureau holding her meager belongings. Once she was clad in Caleb’s shirt and overalls, she picked up the oversized socks and work boots. Clutching them to her chest, she took a deep breath and crept into the hallway. Once outside, she allowed herself to exhale and breathe in the cool night air.

Sitting on the bottom porch step Hannah slipped into the footwear, and then hurried down the street and away from what two months ago had seemed her salvation. Avoiding the main streets of the dusty Texas trail town of Nacogdoches, she made her way along the clapboard residences. Eventually, she came to the rowdy saloons and eateries that serviced dusty cowpokes, gamblers and other prairie wanderers.