Under Starry Skies (13 page)

Tye shrugged. They mounted again and rode in comfortable silence until they reached the top of the mountain where they traveled deep into the forest and arrived at a dilapidated one-room cabin with a patched roof and a front porch with a broken railing. It sat before a small, bubbling stream winding its way even farther into the dense, leafy undergrowth. On the right side of the cabin was a lean-to, stacked full of rows of firewood, and on the left, a larger lean-to held four robust mules in stables. Frayed and shabby gray curtains hung limply in the cabin’s two front, flyspecked windows both badly in need of soap and water.

“Ease up, Maria.” Tye stopped his mount several yards from the cabin. “Sometimes folks aren’t too friendly when strangers approach.” He called out, “River Roy! It’s Tye Ashmore. Can you spare a moment to talk?”

River Roy ambled out on the weather-beaten porch with a shotgun under his arm and Lenny peering out from behind him. “Talk’s cheap, Ashmore. I reckon I can. Who you got there?”

“This is the new school teacher, Maria O’Donnell. You met her sister, Abigail, the other day.” Tye stepped down from his horse and held the reins to Maria’s horse while she dismounted. He reached into his saddlebag, pulled out a cloth sack, and spoke. “Anna sent some donuts and bear claws. She told me she made too many the other day and didn’t want them to go to waste.” It was a lie, but River Roy’s pride would never allow for charity. He motioned to Lenny. “Here take these indoors, away from the heat, flies, and critters.”

The boy jumped at the chance, scrambling down the uneven steps. He snatched the bag, opened it, peered in, and grinned. “Thank you!” He looked back at his father. “Pa, can I have one?”

“We don’t take hand-outs, Ashmore,” River Roy snapped.

“No, and I don’t waste food, nor do I insult my generous sister-in-law.”

The two men faced each other, and a silent standoff ensued. A minute later, River Roy let out a low chuckle and propped his shotgun against the outside doorjamb. “You Ashmores are a difficult lot to argue with. Yes, son, you can have one.”

“We don’t like to argue at all.” Tye took off his hat and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I can do enough sparring with my cantankerous brothers and my sometimes loco sister…and it’s too hot today to be clever enough to outwit you.”

****

Maria listened to the conversation between the two men, amazed how easily Tye could diffuse a prickly situation.

She stepped forward and spoke, “I never once meant for the sketch paper and pencil to be a hand-out for Lenny. It was a present. Your son has an extraordinary talent. You can see he’s a very bright boy from the detail in puts into his drawing. I was only trying to help. My sister was thankful you came along when she encountered the lynx.”

“The boy don’t need to be playing with no paper and pencil. We’ve work to do in the woods between chores here at the cabin and huntin’ for food.” River Roy rubbed the side of his bearded face with his hand.

“If Lenny could go to school and learn to read and write, he could have a chance at doing something different than logging.” Maria tried to keep her voice level so she didn’t sound insulting.

“I need him here.”

Tye interrupted, “I agree.”

Startled, Maria looked at him with a shocked expression, but he continued, pushing his hat back slightly and squinting up at River Roy leaning against a rough wooden post on the porch. “The lumbering business is moving forward with new ways and new-fangled machinery to do the work, Roy. You know how the paper mill has taken off. They’re paying good wages in town, and it would be a shame for Lenny to work the woods when he could be making three times the amount at the mill. He’s good with his hands, his drawings are proof.”

“Then we’ll go back to the mines if there’s no job for us in the woods.”

“But Lenny can have both,” Tye said calmly. “Send him to school a couple days a week, and have him work the woods with you for the rest.”

River Roy grunted. “He ain’t got any clothes for going to school, and I don’t aim for my son to be laughed at.”

When Maria started for his saddle, Tye stopped her with a warning look. “Betsy sent a whole bundle of clothes that no longer fit my brothers. She wanted you to distribute them to the other loggers’ children in the area. Have Lenny pick out a shirt and pants from the bundle.”

“We ain’t charity, Ashmore.”

Tye sighed. “Dang!
Now
you want to insult my sister, Betsy, helpful soul that she is? You know River Roy, I’d shoot you right here and now and end this conversation and my misery, but you wouldn’t be worth the effort. And I’d be putting Maria here in the uncomfortable position of being a party to the crime as well as being a witness. Just send Lenny as he is. Tarnation! It makes little difference to me.”

Maria looked over to where the rows and rows of wood were stacked along the cabin. “We could do a little bartering,” she offered hopefully. She gestured to the woodpile. Her forehead wrinkled; she gave him a quizzical gaze. “By the way, what
is
your last name? I’m not used to addressing people with odd nicknames.”

“Sanderson.” He spit a stream of tobacco juice in the dirt below him and smiled.

“Mr. Sanderson,” she said, starting over, “I need wood to take the chill off the classroom on fall mornings. If you can deliver me a few bundles, I’ll give Betsy a few coins for the used clothes.”

“And she’ll be putting the wrath of God on her head when she does,” Tye said with a cold edge of irony in his voice. “Betsy will not be pleased. Next time you go to the store for supplies, you can deal with her and her fussy disposition. Maybe
she’ll
shoot you.”

River Roy laughed. “Your sister is one mule-headed woman when riled.”

“Then it’s a deal?” Maria asked. “I’ll take my chances with Betsy Ashmore.”

“I’ll tell you what.” River Roy pushed off the post to stand straight. “Lenny can come two days a week, and we’ll see how it works out.”

It was a begrudging compromise, and Maria knew it took a lot for him to make. She walked over to her horse and pulled out a book, a sketchbook, and a pencil while Tye took the bundle of clothes from the back of his saddle and threw it up on the porch.

“Lenny’s first assignment, before he arrives, is to learn to write his name.” Maria quickly and clearly printed, Lenny Sanderson, at the top. “And I want him to draw something that makes
you
happy, Mr. Sanderson.”

“Me? Nothin’ makes me happy, Miss O’Donnell,” River Roy muttered, his tone harsh. “When I lost my wife and then my oldest son to the War, I realized happiness is not meant for everyone.”

“If you say so,” she agreed and gave him a pointed stare, “but you better think on it and find something so the boy can properly do his homework.” She handed Lenny the book and smiled. “This is for you to look through. There are some colorful pictures on the pages. You’ll like them. The book is about animals.” She walked over to her horse and mounted. “I will expect Lenny on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but you may bring my wood whenever it pleases you.”

Together they turned their horses and headed toward the trail winding back down the mountain. Neither of them spoke. Minutes later, Tye pulled up under a stand of hickory trees, reached behind him, opened a sack from his saddlebag, and offered Maria a bear claw. “Nice work up there. You have a stern side to match the quiet reserved one.” He pulled out a donut for himself.

Maria bit into the bear claw. It was fresh, and the richness of cinnamon and sugar melted against her tongue with a delicious sweet sensation. “I have you to thank. I never thought a man could be so stubborn. Though I must admit, I feel sorry—”

Suddenly, a shot rang out and a bullet landed with a soft thud in the trunk of a tree beside them. Before Maria could react, Tye leaped from his horse, threw himself at her, and knocked them both to the ground. He rolled off her, grabbed her by her upper arm, and half-yanked and half-pushed her toward a large outcropping of rock sprinkled with briars. She stumbled and fell down, landing on her knees and forearms, but righted herself, oblivious to the scrapes and scrambled onward. Together, they crouched behind a boulder, peering out at the vacant trail before them. Maria watched the flying tails of both horses as they cantered down the rocky mountain path. Around them, the forest grew eerily quiet in the fading light.

Chapter Ten

Crouching beside Tye, Maria looked at his grim face with wide, frightened eyes. “Do you think it was a stray bullet from a hunter’s rifle? Surely no one would shoot at us on purpose.”

Tye peered out from the rock formation, turned, slumped down on the ground, and checked his pistol. His rifle and water had galloped away with the horses. “A bullet lands that close, and you think it was an errant shot?” He stared at her with narrowed eyes. Her face was still white, and she was trying to keep her hands from shaking.

She rubbed her knees where she had fallen on the ground, rolled her sleeve up, and inspected her brush-burned arm. “If not errant, then obviously it was meant for either you or
me since no other shots were fired, and we’re the only ones in the vicinity.”

“Looks that way.” He took off his hat, wiped his forehead, and blew out a disgruntled breath of air. “You just got here, so I don’t reckon you’ve had enough time to make any enemies. Are you hurt?”

“It’s nothing. Just a few scrapes. I’m fine.” She waved him away.

He nodded, pondering the situation. It was too risky to try walking down the mountain trail until darkness fell. Whoever shot at them would pick them off like ducks on an open lake. If he only had his rifle. He was certain his horse would eventually return, unless the stallion got his reins tangled in the dense brush. He hated to leave Maria without a firearm, but if he could slip through the tangled undergrowth lining the path, he just might find his horse, his rifle, and his ring flask with water. He swore softly under his breath.

“Why are you angry?” Maria asked.

Staring at her, he slumped down farther, scratching his chin and tipping his head backward to rest against the rock behind them. He closed his eyes and let out a low grunt. “Tarnation, I was just starting to enjoy the dang donut! Now here we sit—one gun, no water, and our food lying yonder out of reach and feeding an army of ants. It’s a fine pickle we’re in.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I wish I’d brought Swamp. He would have alerted us if someone was near.”

“So do I.”

“I knew it! I’m competing with a four-legged mongrel for your affections.” An arresting smile softened his face.

“You never did tell me how he got his name.”

He reached over and lightly fingered a loose tendril of hair on her cheek, then pulled his hand away to rest on his knee. “I was fishing down by the creek when I heard this pup whimpering and slogging through the mud, making his way up from the river through the nearby swamp. He came out a muddy-looking mess and scampered right up, shaking mud and water all over me.”

“How did he get in the swamp?”

Tye raised an eyebrow. “It’s more like—how did he make it
out
of the creek?”

Maria’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me someone tried to drown him.”

“When settlers are moving onward, it’s quite common to drop off litters of pups or kittens near the ranches around here or…” He paused. “…find a burlap sack and a nearby body of water.”

He rolled up into a crouch, reset his hat, and faced her.

“Listen, I have an idea. I’m going to take you farther back into the forest, hide you, and then I’m going down the mountain a bit in search of my horse.”

“You’re going to
abandon
me, Tydall Ashmore?”

He winced, his expression was almost apologetic. “No, I’m going to leave you for a few minutes. I promise I’ll return.”

“No, take me with you.
Please
.” Icy fear glistened in her eyes.

He raised his hand and caressed the side of her face with his knuckles. “You have to trust me, Maria, if we’re going to get back down this mountain.” He gestured toward the dense woods behind them. “Come, let me find a place farther from the path where it’s safe and secure. I promise I’ll be back to get you.”

Minutes later, when he turned to leave, she grabbed him by his upper arm. “Wait,” she said, her voice faltering, her gaze fearful. “Please be careful.”

He felt the electricity of her touch, and for a moment they stared at each other, unable to tear their attention away. He left her then on the perimeter of the small clearing, but not before softly touching his lips above her eyebrow and whispering near her ear, “Trust me. You have to trust me, Maria. I’ll come back for you.”

****

Under the cool shadows of a tall pine tree, Maria sat with her back against the rough bark of the trunk and peered out into the snarled undergrowth surrounding her. Around her, the woods smelled of earth, drying leaves, and sweet blackberries. Soon the sun would be going down, and she would be alone in the dark as the air grew colder. She removed her hat and nervously weaved the strings between her fingers while she waited for Tye’s return. She silently berated herself for pestering him to take her up the mountain to see River Roy. They could easily have made the trip on Saturday when they had the entire day. She was so engrossed in her thoughts she missed seeing the Indian who emerged from the brush a few feet beside her with two rifles under one arm and eating a donut with the other hand.

“You look worried, white woman,” the Indian mumbled, his mouth full.

Startled, Maria looked up as a wave of apprehension swept over her, and her stomach felt like she jumped off a cliff. An Indian. He stood tall and proud, his greasy black hair tied back with a rawhide string, and he was missing his two front teeth. On closer look between the opening in his dirty leather vest, she noticed his chest was covered in a mass of scars. Her heart thudded in her chest. She pulled her knees to her chest and inched her body farther against the tree until the bark bit into her back.

“Are you the school teeee-cher? Or are you white woman who owns the whiskey everyone is talking about?” The Indian had a ring of powdered sugar around his mouth as he devoured the last of the donut, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.