Dorothy Garlock - [Annie Lash 01]

by Wild Sweet Wilderness

  The wagons were spread out and parked at random in the large meadow. Everyone was tired, but excited that they were so near their journey’s end. Tomorrow some would go north to the Missouri and some would take up land to the south. Berry and Rachel had no idea what Asa would do. He never discussed his plans with them.

  From her place beside the cookfire where she was frying strips of meat and cooking corn pone, Berry watched the end of the wagon. Rachel sat quietly beside her, a look of resignation on her tired face. They’d been through this many times before and knew Asa would be as cross as a bull with a crooked horn when he awoke.

  Setting her jaw and steeling herself for the unpleasantness that was about to come, Berry got slowly to her feet and placed a reassuring hand on Rachel’s shoulder. She felt her tremble.

  “Just stay out of his way,” she murmured. “Why don’t you crawl into the back of the wagon and lay down?”

  “No. I’ll not leave you to face him by yourself.”

  Asa came out of the wagon roaring curses. “Ya goddamn black bastard! What’d you take my money sack off for?” Israel was giving the wagon wheels their nightly greasing. Asa’s fist lashed out and knocked him off his feet.

  “Naw, suh! Naw, suh! Ah never . . .”

  “Leave him be!” Berry shouted. “He hasn’t touched your money. The trader dumped you in the wagon and took enough to pay the ferryman.”

  Asa looked at her with blurry-eyed astonishment. “We done crossed?”

  “We crossed today.” A sneer twisted Berry’s lips and her look revealed her contempt. “A lot of help we got from you.”

  Asa’s head throbbed. His anger and misery were aggravated by his daughter’s haughty, independent attitude. “Shut your face! I ain’t a-havin’ no sass outta ya!” He hitched up his trousers and ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “Somethin’ ain’t right. I ain’t never slept the day away afore.”

  “You never had your whiskey dosed before.”

  “Dosed? Who done it?”

  “That trash you took up with done it. Sleep with dogs and you can expect to get up with fleas!” she quoted sarcastically. She turned her back on him and moved the teakettle closer to the blaze. A heavy hand on her shoulder spun her around.

  “You done it!”

  “If I’d-a done it I’d-a poisoned the lot of you. The river trash didn’t sleep the day away. They didn’t dose up their whiskey, just yours. And . . . get your hands off me!” Hatred for this man who had made her life so miserable burned deep. It blazed from her eyes.

  “It’s ’bout time you showed some respect for your pa. I always put clothes on your back and filled your belly. Now you’re gonna earn your keep. I got me some plans for ya, missy. You ’n’ that scrawny bitch is gonna make me rich.”

  “You can forget any plans you have for us. We’ll not be a part of anythin’ you hatch up with those no-goods. Where’s this land you was braggin’ about?”

  “I ain’t a-breakin’ my back on no homestead when I c’n get rich right here. I’m startin’ me a tavern. Ain’t none here that’s got nothin’ but used-up old hags in ’em. You ’n’ her, soon’s she gets that brat outta her belly, is gonna be my ace in the hole. Rivermen’ll swarm in like flies jist to touch ya.”

  Berry heard the groan that came from Rachel and rage started deep inside her. It rose in tremendous waves until she was quivering from the force of it. “I knew you was rotten, but I didn’t know you was so low down you’d do this! We won’t do it!” Berry stuck out her jaw and placed her fists on her hips. “We won’t do it,” she shouted again. “You don’t have no hold on us. I’m grown up now and Rachel’s not wed to you. We’ll not work in a tavern like common sluts!”

  “You’ll do as I say!” Asa roared. “I ain’t havin’ no more sass like ya done last night. I aim to strip the hide off ya!” His hand lashed out and grabbed her arm. Before she could brace herself, he jerked her toward the wagon and reached under the seat for the strap.

  “No! Asa . . . no!” Rachel tried to wedge herself between them. “Don’t, Asa . . . please . . .”

  “Get out of the way, Rachel,” Berry said calmly. “He’ll hurt you.”

  “You’re goddamn right! I ain’t havin’ no snotty, sassy talk from no slut!” His voice was laced with icy rage. He pushed Rachel and she fell to her knees.

  While his attention was on Rachel, Berry jerked away from him. She ran to the end of the wagon and grabbed the gun. When she turned, she was holding the musket in both hands and it was pointed at Asa. “If you use that strap I’ll blow a hole in ya big enough to drag this wagon through!”

  Asa looked from Berry to Rachel on the ground. His lips parted in a snarl and his nostrils quivered with rage. He lifted the strap to bring it down on Rachel’s back.

  The dark, slim figure sprang into Berry’s line of vision as if it dropped from the sky. A knife shot through the air with the speed of an arrow. It passed through Asa’s leather shirt at the top of his shoulder and pinned him to the wagon box. The attacker’s head was thrown back, and his lips were parted in a snarl like that of an animal. Buckskin clothes hugged his frame like a second skin. Berry would have been sure he was an Indian if not for the black hair tied, club-style, at the nape of his neck. In two seconds he was in front of Asa, a two-edged blade in his hand. He crouched ready to spring.

  “Wh . . .what . . .?” Asa was stunned, then a frightened look appeared on his face.

  “Beat woman and I keel you!”

  “Who . . . What? Who’re you?”

  The man reached for his knife and jerked it loose, freeing Asa’s shirt. Asa cringed and grabbed his shoulder. Blood seeped between his fingers from the cut made when the knife had grazed his skin. The stranger slipped one knife into his boot, the other into his belt. Ignoring Asa, he knelt beside Rachel.

  “Madame?” His voice was hushed, almost reverent. “Did he hurt you?” His eyes examined her boldly.

  Rachel was unable to speak. She shook her head.

  “I help you. Please . . . ?” The gentle voice again.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He lifted her to her feet and held on to her until he was sure she was steady, then released her and turned back to Asa. He snatched the strap from Asa’s hand and tossed it into the campfire.

  “You got no right to do that!” A surge of courage stirred in Asa. He grabbed for the strap to pull it from the fire.

  The knife appeared in the man’s hand again. He kicked the strap farther into the blaze. “I watch. Next time I keel you.” He didn’t have Asa’s bulk, but there was something in the way he moved and in his face that caused Asa to step back. “I watch,” he said again and spun on his heel. He walked with light, quick steps into the woods.

  A stunned silence followed. Berry exchanged a quick glance with Rachel. The man had not even glanced at her, but Berry knew that he had known she was there holding the gun. She still held it pointed at Asa. She lowered it, but watched him. She had no idea what he would do.

  He turned his verbal abuse on Rachel. “Ya done took up with a breed! I oughtta’ve left ya where I found ya.” He clenched his fist as if to strike her, then glanced in the direction where the man had disappeared into the woods. Fear of the knife was all that kept his hands at his sides.

  “I never saw him before,” Rachel said stoutly.

  “You lie!” he said with a snarl and walked away. “Bring my vittles,” he snapped at Israel as he passed him.

  Berry went to the campfire. Rachel sat back down on the box, and Berry laid the musket in her lap. She dished up a plate of food and poured strong tea into a tin cup. She handed the meal to Israel, who was trembling.

  “Leave it by him and come back here,” she murmured.

  “Who was he?” Rachel shivered. “He’d-a killed Asa.”

  “I was goin’ to, Rachel. I swear it. It scares me to think I’d’ve killed my own pa. I don’t know why I didn’t shoot. That man just sprang out of nowhere, and somehow I knew that he w
as goin’ to help us.” She looked over her shoulder and noticed that Israel had left the food and sidled away. “I wonder why that man was watchin’ us.”

  “His eyes were sad when he looked at me,” Rachel said softly. “He looked Indian, but he spoke French.”

  “Well, I never! People poppin’ in and out of this camp like jackrabbits.” Berry put a piece of corn pone on a plate, handed it to Rachel, took one for herself, and sat down. “I’m not hungry, but I guess I’d better eat.” She saw that Rachel was picking at her food. “You’d better eat too, Rachel. Eat what you want. I’ll give the rest to Israel.”

  “What are we goin’ to do? I remember how it was in the tavern, the pawin’. . . pinchin’.”

  “I don’t know . . . yet.” Berry looked beyond their camp to the cheery campfires of the other settlers. Children played happily, and women stirred the contents of steaming cook pots and called out to their men. One family nearby had made a home spot for the night. Soon the campfire would die down and the children would be put to bed. The man and his wife would snuggle into the blanket beneath the wagon and whisper about the happenings of the day. With a sad, haunted look of lost dreams and pitiful resignation, Berry said again, “I don’t know.”

  “You mean everything to me, Berry,” Rachel said suddenly, quietly. “I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if not for you. I guess I’ve got to thank Asa for that. He’s mean, sometimes worse than a rattler, but I don’t want you to kill him.”

  The tip of Berry’s tongue came out and moistened her dry lips. She was more upset over the fact that she’d almost shot her pa than she wanted to admit. “I don’t want to. It’d bear down hard on me for the rest of my life. But he’s not goin’ to whip us again!” There was an iron-willed determination in her voice.

  Rachel and Berry ate their meal and sipped at the hot tea. Lost in their thoughts, both women had forgotten about Israel until he came out of the woods, where he had taken Asa’s food. His eyes were rolling with fear and his full-lipped mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

  “What’s the matter, Israel?” Berry set her cup down on the ground and squinted up at him.

  “They’s . . . come, missy!”

  “Who?” Berry asked, but she knew who, and icy dread closed around her heart.

  “Them . . .” The slave gestured with a trembling hand.

  Berry glanced beneath her pa’s wagon. She could see the shadows of two pairs of legs beside Asa’s. She strained her ears but could hear only a murmur of voices. She took the musket from Rachel’s lap, placed it on the box between them, and covered it with her skirt. She jerked her head toward the woods and Israel hurried away.

  “Oh, Berry! Sometimes I think the workhouse or a brothel would be better than living like this. At least we’d know what to expect.”

  “Don’t talk like that!” Berry hid her own fear behind curtness. “If I shoot one of ’em, the other one’ll think twice before he comes at us. And . . . maybe that woodsman is still watching.” She reached down and put more fuel on the campfire. It blazed immediately and lit up the area.

  The three men moved out from behind the wagon and stood in full view. They talked for a minute, then Linc Smith came cautiously toward the women. He had scraped the whiskers off his face and the cloth shirt he wore was clean. There was a silly, guilty grin on his face. He stopped several yards away then moved closer, hesitantly.

  “Howdy . . . ah, ma’am.” His small, close-set eyes never left Berry’s face. She glared at him and watched his every move. When she didn’t answer, he shifted from one foot to the other. “I . . . was wrong ta scare ya like I done. I was drunk,” he blurted, and grinned, as if that were all the excuse he needed. A venomous flash lighted Berry’s eyes, and she swallowed the curses she wanted to scream at him. Linc snatched the fur cap off his head, as if he had suddenly remembered it, and glanced over his shoulder to where George and Asa stood at the front of the wagon.

  It suddenly occurred to Berry that it was possible he didn’t remember her throwing the chamber pot on him and being hit on the head. He had been so drunk that all he remembered was coming to the wagon. She could see that her silence was more effective than all the words she could hurl at him, so she remained quiet.

  “Ah . . . your pa said ya could walk out wid me.” He said the words with difficulty and stood expectantly.

  At first Berry wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. When the words finally penetrated her senses, she actually felt like laughing. So she did. She laughed long and loud in contemptuous snorts that even Linc Smith recognized as ridicule. His mouth clamped shut and his nostrils flared in anger.

  “I’d rather walk out with a scalded cat!” she hissed.

  “You’re turnin’ me down?” There was a different quality to his voice. All his muscles seemed to tighten and he thrust his head forward.

  “Are you deaf as well as stupid?”

  Linc came up on the balls of his feet and his hands clenched and unclenched. Never before had he humbled himself before a woman. He’d even washed himself, scraped off his whiskers, stolen a clean shirt. The wench was throwing his invite back in his face. Who in hell was she but a scrawny bitch? He glanced back at the farmer and saw that George was pushing him forward. He’d goddamned well better do somethin’ and quick, or he’d wring the bitch’s neck.

  Asa sauntered up to stand beside Linc, and Berry’s hand found the barrel of the musket where it lay on the box covered by her skirt.

  “She ain’t goin’,” Linc said stupidly, as if Asa weren’t aware of what had been said.

  Asa hitched up his trousers. “Ya go on out wid him.” He tried to put some authority in his voice. “I done give my word he could court ya.”

  “Court me?” Berry’s voice squeaked with astonishment. “Court me!” she repeated with so much revulsion and surprise that she was hardly able to speak. Surprise gave way to anger. It welled inside of her until she thought she would burst from the force of it. “I’d rather die than have that belly-crawlin’, yellow-backed, shit-eatin’ buzzard court me!”

  “Hush your mouth!” Asa shouted. “It’s time ya took a man.”

  “You call that a man!” Berry spit toward Linc. “He looks more like a flap-jaw, warty toad! If you’d scraped the river bottom you wouldn’t-a got more scum!” She jerked out the musket and pointed it at them, gripped in both hands. “Get ’em outta here or I’ll kill . . . somebody!”

  There was silence. The men stood as if nailed to the spot. Then George and Linc, acting in unison, sidestepped, leaving Asa standing alone. They moved to surround the women. Berry’s heartbeat accelerated with fear and the hands holding the heavy gun trembled. Her eyes swung from one man to the other.

  Suddenly both men stopped and sauntered back toward Asa, their eyes darting behind her. Berry knew someone else had come into the camp, but she didn’t dare take her eyes from the men in front of her. She heard Rachel’s long intake of breath and the slow release just as the buckskin-clad figure in the brimmed hat walked past her to stand beside the campfire. Fain stopped beside Rachel.

  “Evenin’,” Fain said. He stood with feet spread. He had a musket thrust in the belt at his waist, and a knife hung in a scabbard at his side.

  Asa’s eyes swung to Simon and back to Fain. “Who’re you?”

  “I come to collect my thanky for gettin’ ya ’cross the river.”

  “Ya got it,” Asa said begrudgingly. “Much obliged.”

  “How’s your head, Smith?” When Simon spoke, Berry took her eyes off the men in front of her long enough to glance at him. He looked the same as last night. He had a musket in his belt and a long rifle in his hand. He was holding it by the barrel.

  Linc seemed surprised for a moment. “Ya done it? Why’d ya bash my head?” Anger made him lose his caution and he took a step forward before he caught himself.

  “’Cause it needed bashin’ then, just as it needs it now.”

  Fear gripped Linc. The trader was goading him. He
’d like nothing better than to kill him so that he could have the woman. Witcher was a man who didn’t know the meaning of the word quit. He not only was rich, he was deadly in a fight. Linc never fought in the open if there was an easier, safer way of getting what he wanted. He had the girl’s pa on his side. He could afford to back down this time.

  “Let’s go, George.” He turned his back to walk away. “Ya comin’, Warfield?” When Asa hesitated, he snapped, “Is the deal on or not?”

  “It’s on. I ain’t sure if I oughtta leave the women.”

  Berry stared at her father with utter loathing, hating him with every ounce of her strength. Her hate forced the words out of her mouth. “Go! It’d be the happiest day of my life if I never set eyes on you again!”

  “Watch your tongue, gal! I’m your pa.”

  “Much to my shame!”

  Rachel’s hand gripped Berry’s arm. She leaned close and whispered, “Shhhh . . .”

  Berry was instantly sorry she’d let her hate carry her away and embarrass Rachel in front of the trader and his friend. She clamped her mouth shut and looked down at the musket.

  Asa followed George and Linc down the trail toward the river and the taverns that lined its muddy bank.

  “That gal’s got too much piss ’n’ vinegar fer my notion,” George muttered as soon as they were out of hearing distance.

  “I’ll tame ’er, by gawd! I’ll take the fight outta ’er,” Linc bragged.

  “Leave ’er be,” Asa said. “I’ll bring ’er ’round. They ain’t never stood again’ me fer long.”

  “They ain’t comin’ docile, like ya said.” There was bitter accusation in Linc’s voice. “That’n needs ta be screwed, by gawd! Them keelboat men’d give a good bit ta get under ’er skirts.”

  A spark of decency, long suppressed, surfaced in Asa. “Hold on. I ain’t agreed to my gal bein’ no whore. The other’n can do the whorin’. Ya asked ta court my gal, ’n’ she turned ya down. Let it set a spell. She’ll come around.”