The Clash Between the Minds

by Nann Dunne

  The Clash Between the Minds

  by Nann Dunne

  Chapter One

  1870—-Missouri

  The back door burst open and slammed shut with a thud that shook the house. Even Sarah-Bren Coulter's less-than-perfect hearing couldn't miss it. She set down the loaf of rye bread she was slicing and dusted her hands against her pant legs. Her partner, Faith Pruitt, came charging across the kitchen, waving a folded newspaper. Faith's long, nut-brown dress swayed to her brisk movements and seemed to dance across the random-width pine planks of the floor.

  "What's up, redhead?" Sarah said.

  "Take a look at this!" Fire flamed in Faith's green eyes. "When will the law do something about these atrocities?" She slapped the newspaper down onto the table, and her red curls bounced around her face and neck as she stepped toward Sarah. She opened her mouth to say more, but Sarah pulled her close and kissed her.

  Faith managed to end the kiss before it had barely started. "Sarah, stop it." She tried to wriggle away, but Sarah held her fast and kissed her again.

  Sarah stood two inches taller than Faith's five-foot-seven-inch height, but Faith's large-boned frame gave her power that nearly matched Sarah's wiry strength. Holding onto her was a struggle. It didn't help that a laugh kept trying to bubble up from Sarah's belly.

  Faith pushed against the long arms that encircled her waist.

  "I just want to show you—" Undeterred, Sarah kissed her once more. This time, after a slight hesitation, Faith slipped her arms around Sarah's neck and returned the kiss, her mouth opening to accept the questing tongue.

  Sarah's laugh became a moan, and her legs went weak. She dropped into a rush-bottomed chair and pulled Faith onto her lap as the kiss deepened.

  Faith slipped a hand under Sarah's amber-colored tunic, which she'd made to match Sarah's eyes. She walked her fingers up warm skin and around a breast. Sarah gasped, and this time she was the one who pulled away. Resting her cheek alongside Faith's, she murmured into her ear, "I think we better slow down. Benjamin will be coming in from the barn any minute now."

  "Not quite so soon, I think," Faith said. "Unhooking the wagon and caring for Drummer should take him awhile." But she withdrew her hand and gave Sarah's long, chestnut-brown hair a tug. "I'm not complaining, sweetheart, but why are you so amorous all of a sudden?"

  "You came striding across the kitchen all lit up like a woman on a mission. Your eyes sparkled, your hair bounced, and your hips swished." Sarah grinned in remembrance. She warmed all over whenever Faith's long red curls danced about her face and neck. "You looked so beautiful. I just had to pull you to me and absorb some of that passion." She pressed her lips to the rounded dip where Faith's neck and shoulder met, savoring the mild saltiness of her skin and a light scent of lavender. "I love you, Faith Pruitt. I thank God every morning that I wake up and you're beside me."

  Faith brushed her hand across the burn scars that marred the right side of Sarah's upper face and forehead, then she buried her fingers in the white blaze that slashed through Sarah's hair. "I love you, too," she said in a voice resonant with emotion.

  Sarah raised her head as the door opened a second time. Benjamin came into the house, swinging his schoolbooks from a leather belt buckled around them. His eyes met Sarah's, and she said, "Your mama's pretty excited about something." She pulled on one ear lobe.

  "She sure is." Benjamin set his books on a chair. "Ever since we picked up the newspaper." He pulled both his earlobes, bringing Sarah's pent-up laughter to the surface. Just turned fourteen, Benjamin was almost as tall as his mother and still growing. He had inherited Faith's build, but his curly dark hair and large brown eyes were a legacy from his Confederate-soldier father who'd been killed in the war.

  Faith looked over her shoulder. "What are you two up to?" Sarah's laugh rumbled through her chest. "Nothing to worry about. We were just practicing our mind reading. Soup's all ready for supper, Benjamin. We'll eat as soon as you wash up."

  "I need to wash up, too." Faith lifted Sarah's arms from around her waist and rose. She picked up the newspaper, turned, and tapped it against Sarah's shoulder. "And I'm not going to show you what's in here until after we eat."

  When the supper dishes were dried and put away, Faith fetched the paper. She settled on the sofa next to Sarah and waited until Sarah lifted her spectacles from the hardwood side table. The burning coal oil lamp that sat there cast a wide, yellow glow, and a light stream of smoke lifted through its glass chimney toward the exposed-beam ceiling.

  Benjamin sat in the oak rocking chair on the other side of the table, studying a schoolbook. When Faith entered the room, he glanced up and appeared to be listening.

  "Here's what I was so upset about." Faith held the paper so Sarah could see it as she read the headline aloud, '"Is The Ku Klux Klan Here?' It goes on to tell about several night raids and the damage they've done. Not just to property. They've beaten people and killed some of them. Why don't the authorities stop them?"

  "Does it say anything about what's behind the raids?" Sarah said.

  Faith's eyes lit up. She often became impassioned about injustices suffered, even by people she didn’t know. "Have you been following the articles about this Ku Klux Klan organization?"

  "Not with great diligence. I've read it's a secret group that started in the South right after the war. They wear white hoods and sometimes white robes to disguise themselves. What more do you know about it?"

  "At first, they accused colored men of trying to violate the widows of Confederate soldiers. They horsewhipped them and even hung them." Faith refolded the paper, rolled it between her hands, and twisted it. "Now, their hatred and bigotry has spread to include anyone who's different from them in some way. They scare me. They've murdered people just because they didn't like them."

  Sarah put her arm around Faith's shoulders. "The world's a difficult place. A lot of groups are up to no good."

  "But this group's in our backyard." Faith laid the mangled paper down. She placed her hand on Sarah's thigh and rubbed the coarse pant leg. "Don't you see, Sarah? You and I are different. Some people think we're evil. For all we know, the Klan might attack us."

  "No!" Benjamin's book thudded to the floor as he leaped to his feet. "I won't let anyone hurt you, Mama." He curled his hands into fists. "Or Aunt Sarah, either. Why can't people just leave us alone?"

  Sarah looked at him intently. "Have you heard anyone talking about us, Benjamin?"

  Benjamin's flush showed through his tan complexion. "Some of the boys at school."

  "What did they say?" Sarah asked.

  Benjamin looked to his mother to the window to the floor.

  Sarah stood and walked over to him. She put a finger under his jaw and raised his head until his eyes met hers. "This isn't the time to be embarrassed. We know the words aren't yours. Tell us what you've heard."

  "Some say you're strange for wearing trousers. And they say Mama's strange, too, for acting like you're her husband."

  "What makes them think your mama acts like I'm her husband?"

  Benjamin stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. "Because of the way she looks at you, I guess. And the way you look at her." He hesitated. "Like you care about each other."

  Sarah took a quick glance toward Faith. "And that's a bad thing? To care about someone?"

  He pushed up one shoulder. "I told them it isn't. But some of them are really dumb."

  Sarah put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. "Thank you for trying to make them understand. But we have to accept that some people never will. Even grown-ups. How about going outside, before it gets real dark, and doing the evening walk-around to check the house?"

  "Yes, ma'am." Benjamin looked relieved
to leave.

  Sarah returned to her seat. She placed her spectacles back on the side table and reached an arm around Faith. "So you think we should be worried?"

  Faith snuggled closer and laid her hand on Sarah's waist. "I don't know, but we should at least be aware. You keep your ears open whenever you're in town, and I'll keep mine open at school. Sometimes children hear things at home and gossip about them."

  "Who are we hurting, Faith?"

  Faith patted Sarah's stomach. "No one, but that doesn't matter to bigots. Anyone who doesn't fit their mold is automatically wrong. We can try to be even more discreet, but I doubt that will make any difference. Let's just hope they leave us alone."

  "Maybe we can learn some more about the Klan at the town council meeting next week. Perhaps find out if there are plans to put a stop to any activities around here."

  "Good idea." Faith lifted her head, and when Sarah gave her a light kiss, she smiled. "I love that you're so predictable."

  "Don't expect me to be so predictable at the council meeting."

  Sarah stepped inside Putnam's Market on Saturday morning and heard several thumps and a voice yelling, "I’ll teach you about stealing, you nigger." She hurried past a row of shelves toward the sounds, and when she reached the end of the aisle, she saw Ed Putnam, the shopkeeper, in the same dirty apron he'd probably worn all week. He had a colored man backed into a corner and was beating him with a broom handle. Ed raised the broom to strike the man again, and Sarah stepped forward and grabbed his arm, hard. He swung his head toward her. "Let go of me."

  "What's going on, Ed?" she asked.

  "You keep out of this, Miss Sarah. It ain't no business of yours." He seized the broom with his other hand, turned back toward the cornered man, and pushed the end of the handle against his chest, preventing his attempt to scoot away.

  Sarah tipped her brown slouch hat back with her thumb. "I'm making it my business. I'm not standing here and watching you beat this man. What's he done?" She released her hold on Putnam's arm and took a closer look at the colored man. His skin was as dark brown as the rich earth of Faith's vegetable garden. Half a head taller than his attacker, he was large-boned but too thin for his build, almost scrawny. A neatly patched jacket hung loosely from his broad shoulders. When his eyes met Sarah's, his face showed a hint of pain, and curiously, he seemed embarrassed.

  Ed Putnam was so angry he sputtered. "D-damn nigger s-stole from me." He banged the broom handle against the side of the man's jacket. "His pockets are stuffed with food."

  "Just food?" Sarah's eyes narrowed as she mulled over the situation. The man hadn't stolen money or dry goods. She looked fully at him. "If I pay for your food, would you be willing to come to my home and work off the cost?"

  The man stood straighter, and hope flickered in his eyes. "Yes, ma'am, I surely would." Even those few words, spoken clearly, indicated to Sarah that he had some education. Perhaps he'd been a house servant. She reached into her left pants pocket, jingled some change, and pulled out a handful. "Is that all right with you, Ed?"

  Ed gave a short nod and shoved the handle harder into the man's chest. "He snitched two rolls and a chunk of cheese. That be ten cents."

  Sarah counted the proper amount and handed it over, then she reached out and pushed the broom handle toward the floor. "Stay with me," she said to the colored man. "I have a few things to pick up here, then we'll head home. What's your name?"

  "Noah. And I thanks you, ma'am." Noah picked up his wide-brimmed black hat from the floor and straightened out the felt top. He brushed a hand across it and slowly lifted the hat onto his head. Sarah walked along the aisle, and he fell in behind her.

  Ed shook the broom toward them. "You come in here stealing again, and I'll blow your head off, nigger."

  Sarah stopped so fast that Noah almost bumped into her. She looked at Ed. "I need groceries and feed and seed. You want to sell me some or stand around ranting all day?"

  Ed set the broom in the corner. He hurried past them, grumbling, and Sarah was amused. She figured a sale was more important to him than being angry was. She made her purchases, and Noah helped carry them out to her wagon. They loaded the bags in the back, then Noah put a foot on the wheel hub and a hand on the lip of the wagon side.

  "What are you doing?" Sarah settled onto the seat and untied the reins from the brake pole.

  "Climbing in, ma'am."

  "There's room up front with me." Sarah pointed to a spot at her side.

  "I can't do that, ma'am. It ain't fittin'."

  "This is my wagon and I'll decide what's fitting."

  Noah looked around and hunched his shoulders. "Could be dangerous, ma'am."

  Sarah considered that idea. "We're in Missouri, not the deep South. The state sent more Union than Confederate soldiers to the war. Stop arguing, and sit up front."

  Sarah glanced toward the store and saw Putnam standing at the door with a surly look on his face. It was no secret that he'd been a Confederate sympathizer.

  Noah took a deep breath as though to speak again, but he blew it out and climbed into the front seat. "You want me to drive, ma'am?"

  "No, I'll drive." Sarah jiggled the reins and started Drummer toward home. "My name's Sarah-Bren Coulter, and my home's just outside of town." She glanced toward Noah. "We're about ready to start a fall planting of alfalfa. We're only planting a few acres, just for our own needs. Could you give me a day of plowing in return for the bread and cheese?"

  "I'll surely try, ma'am."

  Drummer plodded on without urging. The right side of the dirt road was mostly flatland with a stand of trees here and there, but the other side was thickly forested.

  "Try?" Sarah eyed Noah more closely. He was thin, almost gaunt. His dusty clothes were fashioned for a heavier man. "Are you all right?"

  "I got hurt a spell back." Then he quickly said, "But I's gettin' stronger."

  Sarah kept looking at him, and he said, "Tell the truth, ma'am, I maybe can't plow yet. But I can sow seed or do most any kind of light work. I just need the chance."

  "Is that why you stole the food? Because you haven't been able to work?"

  "We ain't had nothing for two days. Man can't let his family starve."

  Sarah yanked on the reins, and Drummer halted. She spoke to Noah with some asperity. "Family? What family? Where are they?"

  "They-they's in the woods. My woman and boy."

  "Near here?"

  "You been headin' toward where I left them." He pointed. "Down that way a piece."

  "Go get them. I'll take you all home with me and give you some dinner. We have more than enough to go around." Noah looked hesitant, and she touched his arm. "You can work off their share, too. Now go."

  He climbed out of the wagon and looked up at Sarah. "You trustin' me? I might just run off with the food you paid for."

  Sarah wrapped the reins around the brake pole. "If you come back, I'll know I was right to trust you. And if you don't, I'll be happy I didn't take someone into my home that I couldn't trust."

  Noah's face turned very solemn. "I'll be back, ma'am."

  One side of Sarah's lips curved upward. "I'll be waiting." She watched Noah hurry into the woods. He held his elbows tight to his sides and leaned slightly forward. He's in pain, she thought.

  Still hurting from his injury, whatever it was. Sarah suspected Faith would pull every little detail about it from him. Not many people could match her for getting to the bottom of any situation. Maybe she could find some medicine to help him.

  Noah reappeared from the woods with his hand resting on the shoulder of a boy not quite Benjamin's size. To their right walked a woman whose ankle-length dark gray dress outlined a shapely body. A bulging burlap sack hung from a rope looped over her shoulder. Her long, black, tightly curled hair was tied back with a multicolored scarf, leaving some tendrils loose around her face. Skin several shades lighter than Noah's spread flawlessly across high cheekbones, wide, clearly defined lips, and a broad, well-proportioned nose.
Long, curved lashes framed her deep brown eyes.

  Sarah enjoyed the warmth that spread through her. My God, she's beautiful. I'll have to draw her picture. Mesmerized, she stumbled when she stepped down from the wagon. She grabbed the side board to keep from falling.

  The three stopped walking, and Noah spoke. "Miss Sarah, this is my woman, Velia, and our boy, Daniel." He gave Daniel's shoulder a shake. "Take your hat off, boy." He looked back to Sarah. "I told them what happened. And about dinner."

  "I'm pleased you're joining us," Sarah said and offered her hand. Velia hesitated, then stepped forward, looked Sarah in the eye, and shook her hand. The top of her head came even with Sarah's chin.

  "Thank you, ma'am. I's beholden to you for helpin' us." She spoke in a soft, husky contralto. "I's thinkin' I can plow if need be. Or cook. I cooked for Massa Brent's family. And Daniel's good with horses."

  "We'll figure something out," Sarah said. She looked toward the boy. "Hello, Daniel."

  Daniel's eyes were as big as black walnuts, and he held his hat tight against his chest. His red plaid shirt had neat patches like Noah's jacket. "Ma'am? Is you a woman?"

  Noah let go of Daniel's shoulder and cuffed him on the arm. 'Hush, boy. Ain't your business."

  "No offense, Noah." Sarah removed her slouch hat and tugged on her hair. "Yes, I'm a woman." Daniel's eyes shifted to the side of her face, so she ran her fingers over the indentation on her forehead and the scars that spread next to the white shock of hair. "I was wounded, fighting in the war."

  "You was in the war?" Daniel's head tilted. "Ain't no women soldiers." He pronounced it so-jers, typical of the deep South.

  "Daniel." Velia took a step toward him. "Show respect."

  "But there were, Daniel," Sarah said. "Both sides had women soldiers who pretended to be men. I was Union." She looked to Velia. "Don't worry. I have a boy about his age. Can't keep him quiet either. Let's get in the wagon and go home, and you can meet my family."

  "You have a husband and children?" Velia asked.

  "No husband. I live with another woman and her son. They're my family." Noah and Velia exchanged glances, but neither said anything. Sarah clamped her hat back on, climbed into the wagon seat, and untied the reins.