Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (26 page)

“I want you safe!”

“Miss Amy can shoot better’n anybody at Quill’s Station, ceptin’ Farr,” Tally said.

“Don’t be telling me what to do about Amy!” Rain snarled. The quelling look he gave Tally sent him scurrying back to the mules.

“I’ll stay behind the horses. Don’t—”

A shot fired from the other boat interrupted her words. The shot fell short, but Amy took advantage of the diversion and moved away quickly.

“Don’t be wastin’ a shot,” Gavin advised from where he crouched beside the heavy post that held the wagon in place. “Can ye be shootin’, Red?”

“As soon’s I get them bastards in my sight.”

“Aye. Hold yer fire, hoe-boy,” Gavin called to Tally. “Wait till the mon lays down a flame, then shoot the ones tryin’ to douse it.”

From her position behind the horses, Amy watched Rain. He wet his finger and held it up to test the wind. He was watching the other boat approach, judging the distance between them. He looked over his shoulder to where she was standing. Their eyes met. She nodded and smiled, then looked back down the long barrel of her rifle that lay on the back of her horse.

No one spoke while they waited, letting the shots from the oncoming boat tell them when they were close enough for Rain to use the bow. When one of the shots came to within a few feet of the boat, he dipped the greased rag into the fire. It burst into flame. He fitted the arrow to the bow and stepped from behind the wagon. With his feet braced wide to steady himself, his powerful arm pulled back on the bow. When he released the flaming arrow, it arced in the sky over the water and then landed in the pile of straw on the stern of the boat. Gavin gave a triumphant shout and a volley of shots followed. Rain touched another torch to the fire in the kettle and sent it toward the boat with the same accuracy as before.

A volley of shots kept the rivermen from getting to the blazing straw. Rain’s third arrow landed at the other end of the boat. The men were caught between two fires. Some tried to kick the burning straw off into the water. Amy’s shot hit one in the leg and he tumbled into the muddy river. A small explosion of gunpowder sent sparks flying, causing more fires.

Suddenly Perry’s henchmen ceased firing altogether and scrambled madly to get away from the flames that traveled the length of the boat. One man’s clothing caught fire. He yelled and jumped into the river. Another was knocked overboard by a man trying to escape the flames.

Two more of Rain’s blazing arrows found their mark. The burning straw sent up a cloud of black smoke that hung over the river before drifting toward shore. Small explosions were heard as the flames reached abandoned powder flasks. Yelling and cursing, the men, one by one, abandoned the boat and jumped into the river.

“Red! Wait! We give . . . up!”

“Give up what? Give up yore whorin’ ’n drinkin’? Ya ain’t got nothin’ to whore with nohow, Bull,” Red shouted with laughter. “I hope to hell ya drown. Ya ain’t nothin’ but rotten, stinkin’ fish bait. If’n ya don’t drown, or the snakes don’t get ya, tell Perry that Red Cavanaugh ain’t takin’ kindly to bein’ run off by the likes a him. I be back, by God! I be back with a full crew a cutthroats to stomp his ass!”

“I can’t swim, Red!”

“Then drown, ya bastard.”

“Tis the law of the river—”

“Law, hell! Ya don’t know law from a pile a horse shit!”

“I ain’t forgettin’ this.”

“Ya will if’n ya drown or get snakebit. Haw! Haw! Haw!”

“Ya son of a bitch.”

“Ya took the bastard’s coin ta ruin me, Bull. Oh . . . looky there! Ain’t that a water moccasin comin’ at ya? Haw! Haw! Haw!” The boatman stomped his foot and roared with laughter at the way the men in the river tried to dodge a stick floating toward them.

Rain dipped a can of water from the river and put out the fire in the kettle. He glanced at Amy sitting on the floor cleaning her rifle. Juicy’s teachings, he mused. When she finished cleaning, she reloaded and placed the rifle beneath the wagon seat once again. He watched her make her way around the mules to where Tally Perkins stood. Rain wondered if she had known Tally was going to follow them. He regretted now that he hadn’t gone into Perkins’ camp that first night and told him to keep his distance. But he hadn’t known it was Tally Perkins. He never saw the man’s face clearly. More than likely he’d been the one prowling around the cabin last night trying to have a private word with Amy.

“Tally, I want to know why in the world you followed me. Did Papa send you?” Amy was angry and she wanted him to know it. Her voice wasn’t loud, but cold and impatient.

“No, Miss Amy. I . . . just wanted to come.” The cowlike expression of devotion on his broad face made her cringe with embarrassment for him.

“Why didn’t you speak to Rain before we left home instead of sneaking along behind?”

“He wouldn’t of let me.”

“Oh, for God’s sake! You’re so used to knuckling under to your mother you don’t have any confidence at all. I’m surprised she let you come and more surprised that you got here without someone killing you for your horse and gun.”

“I didn’t tell her.”

“You didn’t tell her?” There was silence. “You’ve never done anything in your life without asking her,” Amy said bitingly.

“I didn’t tell her,” Tally repeated firmly. Then, in tones of anguish, he said, “I knew I’d not ever see you again, Miss Amy. I had to come.”

“Oh, Tally.” Amy wasn’t angry anymore. She just didn’t know what to do. Her amber eyes studied Tally’s face until he began to squirm.

“I ain’t never goin’ back!” he blurted. “I ain’t
never
goin’ back. Walter can farm for . . . him!”

Angry resentment flared in Tally’s eyes. Amy knew he referred to her father. It occurred to Amy that the resentment had been there all the time, and he had not allowed himself to voice it. She felt a sudden wave of pity for all he had endured from her father and his mother. They had suffocated him, kept him on a tight leash and used him to work the farm. Amy doubted if Tally ever had a cent of his own in his life.

“I can’t say that I blame you,” Amy admitted finally. “I couldn’t stand living with Elija, and he’s my own father. I don’t know how you’ve put up with him and your mother. I’ll talk to Rain.”

“Talk to me about what?” Rain was behind her, his hand at the nape of her neck. Amy looked over her shoulder and saw that his dark eyes were fastened on Tally’s face. Anger and resentment burned in them.

“Tally doesn’t want to go back to the farm.”

“What’s that got to do with us?” Rain asked.

“You and Gavin talked about taking on another man to stand watch—”

“It won’t be him,” Rain said firmly. He then spoke to Tally. “I choose the men I want to join me. You’re not trailing with us or behind us. I would have stopped you the first night, but I didn’t know who you were. I figured you were so damn stupid someone would kill you before you got to Kaskaskia.”

“You knew he was following us?” Amy asked quietly, trying to control her anger.

“I knew someone was. I checked on him at night.”

Tally finally found his voice. “I wasn’t agoin’ to show myself, Miss Amy. But I heared them fellers talkin’, sayin’ they was to get the woman. They said she was the purtiest woman they’d ever saw. I knew that had to be you, Miss Amy.” His voice wavered, but a look of determination settled on his face. “I wasn’t agoin’ to let no hurt come to you.”

Amy’s face reddened. “They weren’t talking about me. They were talking about Miss Woodbury.”

Tally’s eyes left Amy’s face reluctantly and went to Eleanor. A frown drew his brows together over the bridge of his nose. He moved his head from side to side in denial.

“No. They was talkin’ about you. You’re lots purtier than she is.”

“Oh, for goodness sake!”

“We appreciate your warning,” Rain said. “But we’d have made out all right. When we land, you can take the north trail to Saint Genevieve and cross there or stay and find work in the lead mines. Either way, it’s up to you.”

Amy looked from Tally’s worried face to Rain’s stern features. “You can’t send him off, Rain.”

“I can and I will.”

“But he knows nothing about working in the lead mines. He knows nothing but farming.”

“I doubt if any of the men knew how to mine before they went to the mines.”

“But he doesn’t know how to . . . take care of himself.”

Amy’s words whipped Rain’s anger into a rage. His eyes became as hard as steel, and the hand at the nape of her neck fell away.

“It seems goddamn strange to me that you’re concerned about whether or not he can take care of himself.” His voice was cold, his face remote.

“Why is it strange? I’ve known him as long as I’ve known you.”

“And perhaps better, eh?”

Amy recoiled. For an instant she was stunned by his viciousness.

“Now you’re being stupid.” She tried to firm her quivering voice. Rain looked at her with unfathomable eyes and didn’t speak. She tried reason. “I feel responsible for him. He wouldn’t live to get to Saint Genevieve.”

For a terrible space of time Rain was quiet. “Maybe you want to go with him and take care of him.” His lips barely moved when he spoke. His voice was nasty and blistering.

“You . . . think that?” Amy almost strangled on the words. Rain looked at her with the blank stare she thought of as his Indian face. Hurt, anger and bewilderment surfaced in her amber eyes. Grim-faced and shaking with fury, she snarled, “Maybe I’ll do just that, you . . . you dumb, bullheaded jackass!” She turned on her heel to walk away. Tally grabbed her arm.

“Miss Amy! Wait.”

“Get your hands off me!” She slapped his hand from her arm. “And shut up! Just shut up!”

“What I said goes,” Rain said after Amy left them. “You go your own way.” He looked at Tally, and there was neither pity nor understanding in the glance. “From here on we travel fast and hard, and I carry no dead weight.”

“I ain’t got no quarrel with you.” Tally’s face was square and he had a square way of standing. There was a dumb animal patience in his eyes and in his voice.

“It’s a damn good thing, because you’d not stand a chance. Take my advice and leave on your own. Amy is not for you.”

“I know that I can’t have her.”

“That’s right, you can’t. Go back home.” Rain left him and went to speak to the boatman.

Tally shook his head slowly, trying hard to understand something beyond his power. The only thing he had ever done on his own in all his twenty-two years was saddle up and ride away from the farm without first getting permission from his mother. It had taken all the courage he could muster. The thought that he might never see Amy again was what had goaded him to take the drastic action. He knew now that he could never have her. He had seen the way she looked at Rain, had seen Rain’s hand on her neck beneath her hair. How could he ever hope to win her away from a man like Rain Tallman?

Amy was so steeped in her own misery that she didn’t notice they were nearing the west bank of the river. She had seen the unyielding side of Rain before, so she wondered why she was so surprised by his cold treatment of Tally. His face was turned away from her now, but in her mind she could still see the wolfish snarl of his twisted mouth when he had said what he did about her going with Tally. She knew how unbending he was, and she burned with resentment for being placed in a situation not of her making.

The sun was up over the treetops when the front of the craft hit the heavy timbers of the dock with a jolt. Gavin and the boatman threw the thick ropes over the post and the boat stopped rocking. Amy untied her mount and moved it carefully around the dead horse. Rain was there, removing the saddle. He and Gavin, using the stout poles, rolled the dead animal off the boat and into the water, pushing it away from the dock and into the current.

The mules were untied and led up the short ramp to level ground. Amy followed leading her mount and Rain’s.

“I’m obliged to you.” Rain paid the boatman and shook his hand.

“I’m obliged back. Perry tried to have my boat burned fer holdin’ out agin him. ’Stead, we burned his’n. I ain’t never seen nobody but a Injun shoot a arrow like ya did.”

“It was an Indian who taught me. Will you be able to get a crew here?”

The redheaded boatman looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. I’ll pick up a couple.”

Amy saw the leering looks Eleanor was getting from the disreputable wretches squatting in front of one of the three buildings that made up the landing settlement. This was a wild, rough land, and here were wilder and rougher men than she had ever known. Men lolled against the dock or sat in the dirt beneath the trees and, like the loafers in front of the building, watched and waited to see which direction the pilgrims would take. Amy’s heart contracted painfully when she looked behind her and saw Tally standing beside his mount. He looked like a sheep among wolves.

She tied Rain’s horse to the back of the wagon, mounted hers and rode back to Tally.

“What are you going to do, Tally?”

“I don’t know, Miss Amy.” He glanced at the men squatting in the dirt in front of the ramshackle building, then at the narrow trail that led north along the river.

“Come talk to Rain.”

“No. I ain’t abeggin’. I reckon I’ll do what he says ’n try my hand at the mines.”

“I can’t go off and leave you here.”

“There don’t ’pear to be nothin’ else you can do. I’m sorry if I gave you trouble. I never meant to. I sure never wanted Rain to be mad at you.”

Rain rode up beside Amy. “Come on. I want to be rid of this place.”

Amy looked at him for a long moment, then gigged her horse and rode to the front of the wagon.

“Give me my rifle, Gavin. It’s under the seat.” He handed the gun to her and she slid it into the holder on the saddle, reached into the back of the wagon for her powder flask and shot bag and hung them around her neck. She wheeled her horse and rode back toward Tally.

Rain moved his horse to block hers from reaching Tally. “I don’t like the looks of this place. If we stay here much longer there’ll be trouble. We’re moving out. Now.”

“Then go. I don’t like the looks of it, either. I’m riding north to Saint Genevieve with Tally. I’ll catch up.”