Christine Dorsey (36 page)

There was only one occasion when Jake seemed out of sorts, and that was when he and Will returned from the fields to find that Lieutenant Farrow had come calling.

“He only stopped by to see if everything was all right,” Samantha insisted when she stepped outside for some evening air and Jake followed. He’d been acting like a bear with a thorn in his paw all evening. He did little more than grunt at her explanation.

“Now just what is that supposed to mean?” Samantha kept her voice down so Will wouldn’t hear them arguing and come to investigate. She could hear him in the house blowing into Jake’s harmonica, trying to play a tune.

“It means, I don’t know why he’s not out trying to catch Landis Moore.”

“He thinks Moore’s long gone.”

Again a disapproving noise, this one more like a snort than a grunt.

“You said very nearly the same thing when you got back from Missouri. What’s making you change your mind now.”

“Nothing. Who said I had? I just don’t like him coming around here when there’s no need.”

Samantha peered at him through the gathering dusk, and a spark of understanding flashed in her mind. At first she couldn’t believe it, but the longer he scowled at her, the more likely it seemed. “Why Jacob Morgan!”

“What?” Jake rested his hands on his hips.

“You’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” His voice thundered between them and Will temporarily stopped screeching on the mouth organ.

“Yes, jealous,” Samantha whispered after Will started playing again.

“That’s the most ridiculous—” He clamped his mouth into a straight line and folded his arms. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” he informed her with a knowing nod.

“I know how to take care of myself.” Samantha’s stance matched his.

“Fine.” Jake started off the porch. “I’m just not crazy about Union soldiers is all,” he mumbled as he headed for the barn.

That was three days ago and since then neither Samantha nor Jake had mentioned the discussion or any of its implications. For all intents and purposes, it might not have taken place.

“I shouldn’t be long in town,” Jake was saying as they approached the barn. “But don’t hold supper for me if I’m not back. I’ll grab something when I get here.”

“I’ll save you something.”

“Thanks.” Jake ducked behind the barn and plopped down the bucket, splashing water over his boots. Before Samantha could ask what the devil he was up to, he’d reached out and pulled her into his arms.

“What are you—” His warm mouth cut off Samantha’s protest as he lifted her up and twirled her around.

“Do me another favor,” Jake said when they were both dizzy from kissing.

“What?” Samantha wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Come out to the barn tonight.”

“But—”

“I know all about Will sleeping on a pallet in the parlor and you not wanting him to know, but damn I’ve missed being with you.”

Samantha bit her lip then blurted out what she was thinking. “Oh, I’ve missed you too.”

Jake grinned then twirled her around till her skirts whirled out and she giggled with glee. “Then you’ll come?”

“Goodness. Put me down.”

“Not till you say you’ll come to the barn.”

“All right,” Samantha laughed. “But don’t you be real late from town tonight.”

“No ma’am. Wouldn’t think of it.” Jake punctuated his words with a kiss that had Samantha’s head spinning almost as much as when he’d whirled her around. When he finally lowered her to the ground, they were both breathless and grinning at their silliness.

Jake touched her cheek and bent to kiss her again, but he stopped within inches of her lips.

“Jake! You coming, Jake?”

Straightening, Jake blew air out his mouth. “Sometimes that brother of yours can be awfully pesky.”

“It’s only because he idolizes you.” Samantha reached for the pail but Jake beat her to it.

“He does not. He just likes having a man around.”

So do I, Samantha thought, but she didn’t say it as they ambled from behind the barn.

“Coming, Will. Just helping your sister get some water.”

“She gets water all the time, Jake,” Will admonished from his seat in the wagon bed. “If we don’t get to the field, we’ll never get done. You don’t want that, do you?”

“Lord no.” Jake climbed onto the seat. “I’m aiming to get my work finished early today.” His wink made Samantha smile as he started the mules off toward the field.

~ ~ ~

Apprehension wasn’t exactly it.

Still Jake couldn’t come up with a better word to describe his feelings as he rode into Hager’s Flats that Friday afternoon. Would there ever come a day when he could face a town full of Yankees and not experience a flood of memories?

Jake shook his head. He’d experienced firsthand the destruction the Union Army could do, but then Confederate guns could shoot a man just as dead. It wasn’t the armies so much as the war itself that had caused all the death and destruction.

Still, Jake kept a sharp eye out as he rode down the main street of town toward the smithy. Blue-garbed soldiers loitered along the street, leaning against the wooden buildings or standing in small groups chewing the fat.

Lieutenant Farrow didn’t seem to run a very tight company, for all his personal military polish. The soldiers were a straggly-looking lot with unkempt uniforms and dusty boots. But Jake imagined they hadn’t sent an elite corps down from Fort Scott to tangle with a few outlaw border ruffians.

After dismounting, Jake unhooked the wheel and rolled it into the three-walled smithy.

“Howdy.” Linc Jones looked up and let his beefy hand slip off the bellows. “What can I do for you?”

Jake nodded in greeting. “I’m doing some work for Samantha Lowery and she’s still having trouble with this wheel.”

Rubbing his hands down his leather apron, Linc approached Jake. “I fixed that thing once, didn’t I?”

“Think so. But I’d like you to take another look at it.”

Linc crouched down beside the wheel. The muscles in his wide arms shone with sweat. “How’s Samantha doing? Heard there was some trouble out her way.”

“She’s fine. So’s Will, now. Things should be better now that the army’s here,” Jake added because he knew that was how Samantha felt.

“The army.” Linc spit on the packed ground floor of the smithy. “I don’t hold with honest citizens like Samantha and Will Lowery being hurt. But I sure as hell don’t like the army coming in here and taking over.”

“Has there been trouble?” Jake leaned against a high bench.

“Not so long as you abide by what that Lieutenant Farrow says there isn’t.”

“What’s he say?”

Linc straightened, spearing Jake with an icy stare. “Lots of things, but I just mind my own business. It’s going to take me a while to fix this.”

“Sure. I’ll check back in a bit.”

The first thing Jake noticed when he stepped outside was the group of blue-coated soldiers hanging around his horse. Taking a deep breath, he headed toward the hitching post.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Jake shouldered his way through two of the men, but the soldier standing directly in front of the post didn’t budge. He had a campaign hat pulled low over his eyes and cheeks that settled into his bull neck.

Jake met the private’s stare. “You’re in my way.”

“Is that so?” The burly soldier transferred his chew from one cheek to the other, twisted his head, and let loose a stream of tobacco juice. After backhanding his mouth, he crossed his arms. “You a Reb, boy?” His eyes locked on Jake’s belt buckle with its raised CSA.

Jake took a deep breath. “I was in the Confederate Army. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re blocking my horse.”

The private chortled. “You hear that, boys? Johnny Reb here says I’m in his way.” The “boys” all seemed to think this highly amusing. There were five of them in all, counting the two who’d moved for him—who now had closed in behind Jake.

“Listen.” Jake kept his voice pleasant by sheer will. He had the strongest desire to bash the private’s nose into the back of his skull. “I’m not after any trouble. Just want to get my horse and—”

“Your damn, lily-livered Reb horse, you mean,” the private sneered then spit again, this time dangerously close to the toe of Jake’s boot.

Jake’s smile was chilling as he shook his head. “Anybody here smart enough to realize the war is over?”

“What you saying?” The private puffed out his chest and gave a sharp look toward the one soldier who had snickered at Jake’s remark. “That we ain’t as bright as some no-’count, lice-eating slime of a Reb?”

Jake blew air through his teeth. “Yeah. I guess that’s about what I’m saying.”

He expected the first blow and easily feinted away from the private’s massive right. What Jake didn’t expect was the two men behind him grabbing his arms and pinning them back in a painful squeeze.

Jake felt pretty confident about beating the private in a fair fight. But there was nothing fair about this. A fist landed in his midsection, doubling him over. Then something hard and heavy hit Jake’s head.

He tried to fight back, and knew a moment of satisfaction as his boot connected with a shin. “God damn, Reb. Hold the bastard still while I teach him what we think of his kind in these parts.”

Pain exploded in his gut, his head. The men pinioning his arms yanked tighter and Jake fell to his knees. They were going to kill him, Jake thought. He’d survived the war to be beaten to death in some ‘one-horse’ Kansas town.

And he’d never see Samantha again.

~ ~ ~

`Where do you think he is?”

“For the last time, Will, I don’t know.” Samantha wove the needle into the skirt she was hemming and dropped the dress into her sewing basket. She hadn’t taken more than three stitches in the past half-hour anyway. “Would you stop pacing. That can’t be good for your leg.”

“But it ain’t like Jake to miss a meal.”

Samantha didn’t bother to correct Will’s grammar. “I told you Jake said he might be late tonight.”

“But it’s almost nine-thirty.”

“I know. Perhaps the wheel took longer to fix than he thought.” She shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned for Will’s sake. “Maybe he stayed in town for the night when it got late.”

Will stopped in front of Samantha, his crutch resting at his armpit. “You don’t believe that no more than I do.”

Of course she didn’t believe it. Especially not after the way Jake had acted that morning about getting home early. But things do come up. Problems arise. And the only way Jake had of letting them know he’d be late was to send a message or come himself, so they’d just have to wait.

Besides, as much as she worried, there was a bright point. “Remember, Will, the army’s in town so nothing really bad could happen.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, Sam.” Reluctantly Will clomped over to his pallet and lowered himself.

“I know I am. Just go to sleep and I’ll bet first thing in the morning Jake will be here.”

But he wasn’t.

Samantha watched the sun creep over the horizon and turn the sky a wash of mauves and pink. And still Jake hadn’t come back. She wasn’t able to sleep, finally gave up trying, and dressed by the light of a single candle.

The familiar
clomp-clomp
of Will’s crutches sounded behind her, and Samantha turned on the porch and drew her shawl tighter. “You want some breakfast?”

“I guess.” Will squinted in the direction of town. “Still not back, huh?”

“No.” Samantha had already been to the barn in case he’d come in last night and she’d somehow missed him. “Well, I better get started on fixing something to eat.”

“Sam.” Will caught her arm as she moved past him. “I’m worried.”

Samantha paused a moment, then touched his hand. “So am I, Will. So am I.”

Neither of them ate many of the eggs Samantha had gathered, and she scraped them off the plates into Charity’s dish. The dog gobbled them up before Samantha straightened.

Samantha glanced toward the clock then walked back to the table and sat down. Even if Jake had waited till morning to come back to the farm, he’d be here by now. “I’m going into town,” she said when Will looked up.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No.” Samantha folded her hands. “We can’t take the wagon because Jake has the wheel and I don’t think you’re ready to sit a horse for that long a time.”

“Aw, Sam.”

“Don’t ‘Aw, Sam’ me. You know what I’m saying is true.” Samantha rose and went toward her bedroom. “You just stay inside and I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She paused, her hand on the latch. “And Will, I’m leaving you Jake’s revolver.”

“You think Moore’s around again?”

“No,” Samantha hurriedly answered. “No, I don’t. But just in case.”

By late morning Samantha rode into Hager’s Flats. She’d stopped along the way at the Nelsons’ farm to see if Jake might have spent the night there. The Nelsons hadn’t seen him. They did offer their best wishes for Will’s quick recovery.

“It’s a sorry thing when people like Landis and Ab Moore can get away with crippling up a young boy,” Seth had said, and Samantha had stared down at him from her mare’s back.

“It’s a sorry thing when we do nothing and let him get away with it,” she’d replied and watched as Seth colored beneath his sun-darkened skin.

“Now see here, Samantha. I’m nothing but a farmer. Besides, the army’s here now to take care of us.”

Samantha had ridden away without another word.

Seth Nelson had been right about one thing, she thought as she rode through the town. The army was definitely here. Soldiers seemed to be everywhere. But though she scanned the street from under her bonnet, she saw no sign of Jake or his horse.

Linc Jones greeted her warmly as Samantha climbed off the mare. “There you are,” he said. “Wondered what I was to do with that wheel.” He motioned toward the wagon wheel leaning against the shed.

“So Jake did come here,” Samantha mumbled. “Do you know where he went after he left here?”

Line pounded his hammer down on a horseshoe wrapped around the anvil. Sparks sprayed out and the loud clang made Samantha think she’d misheard Linc’s answer.

“What did you say?”

“I said I reckon they hauled him off to jail.”

“Jail.” Samantha stared at him wide-eyed. She hadn’t heard him wrong the first time. “Whatever for?”