Passion's Joy (20 page)

Cain was pretending he didn't notice, battling furiously with himself to keep on pretending.

He didn't want to notice, but Lockhorn nudged him. "Check that boy out, will ya?”

Cain moved slowly to the bunk and lifted the blanket bunched in a pile. Of all the ill- begotten luck. The boy picks the one night to run when ole man Hoss up and dies. Beggar's luck for sure.

Well, hell, they would have caught him by noon anyway. "Looks like we got a live one," Cain said out loud.

Sammy heard it first. "Stop de cart," he called up. “What?" the Reverend said.

"Stop de cart!" he practically screamed.

The Reverend reined the cart to an abrupt halt. He and Joy tensed, twisting around to see what Sammy was about. Sammy's board-straight back was to them, and he cupped his ear, straining to listen. Neither Joy or the Reverend heard it, not then, but they knew when Sammy cursed under his breath and announced, "The dogs are out. Hell and damnation, they are on to us!"

The Reverend grabbed Joy's shoulders so fast and hard, her mind spun like a child's toy. An odd distortion sprang on the familiar face. It was fear! The Reverend panicked, and this was the first time she had ever seen it. "Listen up, lass." He stopped just short of shaking her. "This has never happened to us before. It's bad, real bad. We've got to split the pack. You're going to ride that horse of yours like you've never ridden and as far away as she'll carry you. Can you do that?”

"Yes, but—"

He silenced her quickly, then jumped down, bringing her with him. Sammy had already untied Libertine and was now opening the passenger's compartment. "Come on man— we've got us trouble."

Jim Boy froze.

"Come on! Please to God, we’ve got troubles!"

Looking scared witless, but no more than either Sammy or the Reverend, Jim Boy slowly slipped out and then onto the ground.

Sammy could not mince words; he got right to the point. "You've got to piss on the horse, Jim Boy! Our only chance of seein' daylight is if’ n you'se got some piss for this here horse's legs!"

Jim Boy looked as though Sammy just said his time was up and he was going to hell for being such a sinner. Joy herself had felt no fear until the very moment she heard it. In the farthest distance and gaining fast came the frantic yelps of dogs hot on a trail. "Oh God hurry! They're coming!"

The words penetrated his confusion; he suddenly understood. Sammy and the Reverend watched in silence the several long seconds it required for Jim Boy to comply. Libertine danced nervously, not liking this kind of abuse at all and making her sentiments plain.

"Joy, Joy." The Reverend grabbed her again, and all the instructions he could think of tumbled out in the space of seconds. "Ride east for about two miles. Stop until you hear them pick up your trail, then turn circles until they start gaining. Head back to the river road and then ride her for all she's worth lass. Don't stop till she drops. That horse can go a hell of a lot faster for a spell, but those dogs will be forever gaining. Once she's spent, let her go. You head back home but keep to the water. If ever those dogs come after you, then start swimming. You got it?"

"What about you?" she asked frantically as Sammy lifted her onto the saddle.

"There's a triple split about a mile down the road. If the pack splits and the lead follows you, we've run a good chance of confusin' 'em more, and then we'll just have to keep movin' till we find somewhere that's safe. Now go lass, go!"

Libertine leaped into the air at the tap of Joy's feet, disappearing in the darkness.

Jim Boy was back in the compartment, now a coffin in his mind's eye, and seconds later the cart moved forward. Sammy and the Reverend in the driver's seat pressed the old bays for all they were worth. The dogs sounded much closer, less than two miles now.

"You ain't never told her that thar ain't no place safe in heaven or on earth when you'se got a pack o' hungry dogs on you!" Sammy shouted above the frantic rattle.

"Have I ever let you down?" the Reverend shouted back. "No, but I'm mighty afraid I'm about to see the day." "Not on your life Sammy!"

"This is what I’m a sayin', my man!"

The Reverend laughed, unbelievably he laughed and that made Sammy laugh, too. The old man's finally gonna meet his maker in hell and he's just such a fool he's laughing.

The old cart was as ill-suited for speed as the Reverend. His bone-thin frame bounced painfully, rattling miserably in the hard wood seat. He had reason to abruptly realize how loose two of his teeth were, but still, with one hand holding his hat and another the reins, a miracle occurred. He managed to remove the rum cask in his pocket, get the cap off and enjoy a gulp or two. After all, it might be his last. Holding on for his life, Sammy was far too scared to appreciate the trick, all seconds before they rounded the bend and came abruptly on the triple cross.

Sammy jumped down from the still moving cart with the large canister of turpentine. The river road kept to the right; less than four miles ahead it would pass the front of the city at the levee and continue on south. The middle road would head to the city as well, but around the back way.

The third road offered the best bet; it led northwest twenty or so miles to Gainsport, eventually all the way to Georgia and beyond, supposing some desperate fools like themselves wanted to quit Orleans and fast.

The dogs sounded in the far distance. "Hear that?" the Reverend called as he, too, took one of their three canisters of turpentine to splash it down the Gainsport road. Two hundred paces down the river road, Sammy stopped and listened. The distant yelping sounded chaotic, scattered; the dogs were confused! He ran another hundred or so paces down the road, splattering turpentine, then crossed through the woods to the middle cross, the city's back road, and still splattering turpentine, he raced back to the cart.

The Reverend just returned from the Gainsport road. Nothing confused a dog's scent like turpentine, or so said this old hound man to whom the Reverend once had purposely lost three good card hands, all to discover what in tarnation would throw off a pack of hounds on a trail. He and Sammy jumped back on the cart, and with a hard slash of the reins, they were off.

"Gainsport and the likes of me get on fine. Did I ever tell you Sammy about this card play I pulled up there?"

The wind stole the words and they were lost forever….

Breathless and surrounded by darkness, Joy crouched low on Libertine's back and with her own heightened senses listened. Nervous and frightened, too, Libertine kept tossing her head, neighing and dancing, fighting for more rein that Joy absolutely refused to give. "Easy my pet... easy ... listen up! Are they coming?"

Libertine quieted somewhat, and Joy heard the dogs in the distance but could not isolate their direction. It sounded like they were going in all directions at once. Alarmed by the dogs, cries and screeches of night birds added to these sounds, and Libertine's hooves cracked loudly as she danced nervously over the leaves and twigs. The darkness was nearly impenetrable, only the darker outline of trees, moss and bushes showed in the night. Suddenly, yes—she heard it!— the barking drew together as the dogs finally found the scent.

Joy reined Libertine back toward the river but only gently nudged her side, while holding the reins tight to control the speed. Still, even a slow lope through the dark forest was sheer madness; a rabbit hole or a stump would send Libertine crashing to the ground. She held her breath and kept low, digging her knees in tight, praying only to see the road that would give them the freedom to run.

The dogs sounded closer and closer.

Joy gasped with a pained cry as a sharp branch slashed across her arm, tearing her shirt. With the dogs and that one small cry, Libertine panicked, fought the bit and won. Joy grabbed Libertine's neck and held on for her life as her horse thundered through the forest. It was like hanging on the edge of a cliff, looking into the certain abyss of death! Die! She was going to die!

Abruptly sounds came from ahead! Horses, men and dogs in the back and dogs ahead!

Confusion crashed into her consciousness a split second before Libertine leaped back onto the river road.

"Catch him! Catch him!"

A pistol fired! Another and another! Joy couldn't think to know what was happening.

Libertine had instinctively turned south, running as she never had, and all she could do was keep the horses, men and pistols behind her, but the dogs! The dogs were ahead of them!

"Run Libertine! Run!" she screamed, and as the words sounded to the wind, the miracle happened. High strung to start and now crazed, Libertine never stopped or reared or even slowed. She crashed straight through the pack of dogs.

And then, with the dogs, pistols and horses behind, Libertine became the wind; she had wings, and they were flying.

Tears blinded Joy as she desperately clung to her horse through the dizzying whirl of speed.

Thoughts crashed into her consciousness. The pack had split, one pack had followed her into the forest, while the pack and riders she just met on the road were following the cart. The other pack,

including the lead dogs, would soon catch up to the others, yet they would all be following her now. The Reverend, Sammy, and Jim Boy would be safe. Had she a breath to spare, she would have laughed at the unplanned and unbelievable perfection of their escape.

Libertine raced past the triple cross and ever onward toward the city. A brief whiff of turpentine brought a sudden wave of nausea to her but it passed quickly. Still keeping low and holding to her horse with her knees, Joy managed to get back the reins, though she did not even attempt to regain control. Libertine flew by herself.

The gallop was wild still, the night flew past, minutes rushed together and all with the speed of the wind. The dogs sounded farther and farther away as Libertine lost them.

The danger had only just begun.

The city lay about a mile ahead. It was probably an hour or so to midnight, and the streets would be nearly deserted. She decided to risk the run through the levee. The thought of slowing for safety seemed more risky; the dogs would not be put to rest tonight.

Libertine pressed onward, panicked still, able to hear the dogs when Joy could not. The night lanterns of the city shined ahead. The marketplace and levee would be empty of all but the night watchmen, who would surely be telling of the runaway horse and rider on a suicide run on the morrow. Joy lifted her head a scant few inches, tears and wind blurring her vision.

A neat stack of cotton bales lay smack in the center of the levee road. An empty stand, with its poles and awning, sat on one side of this, the river on the other. The cotton bales rose five feet if an inch. These facts were assimilated in an instant, along with the last fact that it was too late to stop.

"Stop! You're gonna hit—" an idle sailor jumped up from nearby, his hands flying to his head as he anticipated the inevitable.

Flatboats, barrels, lights flew, created in one long blur in her mind as Joy braced for certain death. Consciousness heightened. She felt a loosening as though Libertine's great strength gave out but knew it was the opposite—Libertine would try to clear it! She felt the muscles of the huge beast lift into the air, and she knew magic. Joy soared; Libertine's back hooves caught the top bail, sending it crashing back, as she glided back to earth with a wondrous fluid motion.

Libertine raced out of the city. The lights fell behind them. The river rushed to the side. A darkness stretched ahead like a velvet glove over her eyes, and her heartbeat, indeed her whole body, matched the rhythm of Libertine's hooves.

The fall was as smooth as the winged flight over the cotton bales. Unlike grapes, miracles do not occur in bunches and luck does run out. It happened so fast that Joy never knew what caused it. Libertine just suddenly tripped, crashing forward to her knees, throwing Joy into the air and onto the ground as she rolled with the impact. Her head hit the ground so hard that an instant darkness swirled in her mind, spreading then stopping.

Joy felt Libertine's hard nose nudging her awake. Pain shot through various points of her body—her buttocks, neck and a finger—but she bolted upright. Nothing but the dark night met her wide blue eyes, and it was perfectly quiet except for—

"The dogs!" She jumped to her feet, panic overriding any and all pain. She was struck with a wave of dizziness, then nausea, yet she grabbed Libertine's reins, stepped back a pace and vaulted. Only to feel a sharp stabbing pain shoot up her arm that sent her falling back to the ground.

Closer, they were gaining!

She jumped up and tried again, careful not to use her right hand. Once on Libertine's back they were off and running, but she felt the difference immediately. Libertine had not the same speed, and the dogs sounded so near now if she dared look back she would see them! She panicked, tried to think of what the Reverend said to do. Ride her till she's spent, then lose her and keep to the water. She'd swim if she had to but—

But Libertine would never leave her! Libertine would keep to her and the dogs would keep to Libertine!

The darkened landscape flew past. The dogs were falling a bit behind but Libertine was slowing, too, her breathing unnaturally labored, sweat gathering into foam on her coat.

What to do? What to do?

A million unlikely schemes filled her mind as she raced along the road. Tie Libertine up and run on foot! Yet once they found the abandoned horse, they'd put the dogs on her trail! Could they do that? She didn't know; she didn't know!

Lather, a thick and white foam covered Libertine's coat and her breathing grew so labored, Joy feared she would drop any minute. Then it happened, abruptly, like the snap of fingers, Libertine broke to a trot. Spent, she was spent! The dogs sounded close in the distance. A choked sob escaped Joy, and hot panic swept in. Just as she was about to jump her horse and throw herself into the cold mercy of the river, she looked up to see providence's sweet salvation.

Ram was not narrow minded; he believed in coincidence to a point, a generous point, but then it became something else. Having felt an unusual restlessness that night, not appeased by his long run and swim, the thought of the meeting with the bankers, their wives and company was