Seeing Emma apparently upset, Perley pulled his horse up by the wagon. “What’s the matter?” Possum told him that this was her father’s house, and she was expecting to find it empty. The fact that it was not vacant did not seem surprising to Perley, just as he expected that someone in the community would take over the farm, instead of letting the land go fallow.
While they were deciding what to do, a man came out of the barn and started walking toward them. “Somethin’ I can do for you folks?”
“Frank Lewis!” Emma exclaimed. “What are you doin’ here?”
“Emma?” Frank responded when he got closer to the wagon, not sure it was her. He gave Perley and Possum an inquisitive look before shifting his gaze back to Emma. Judging by the differences in ages of the two strangers, he assumed the young man on the horse was the fellow she ran off with. “When did you come back?” Before she could answer, he asked, “Does Raymond know you’re back?” Again, before she answered, he turned and yelled, “Barbara Ann! Come quick, it’s Emma Wise!” Back to Emma again, he thought to say, “Sorry,” and nodded to Perley. “I reckon it ain’t Emma Wise now.”
“No, it’s Emma Slocum,” she said. “My husband was Dan Slocum, but he’s dead now. These two gentlemen were kind enough to escort me back here.
“Slocum!” Frank repeated in surprise before she could go further. “Is that who you ran off with? I mean that’s who you married?”
“Yes, that’s who I married, and he’s the father of my child, Daniel Seaton Slocum, Jr.” She paused then when Barbara Ann ran out to meet them.
“Emma Wise!” Barbara Ann exclaimed. “Is that really you? I declare I never thought I’d see you again.”
“It’s Emma Slocum now,” Frank told her, and the name had the same impact upon his wife as it had on him. As her husband had, she looked at once to Perley, sitting on his horse. “That ain’t him,” Frank said. “Her husband’s dead.” She looked back at Emma, properly shocked, but more eager to hear the circumstances that brought her back to Butcher Bottom. There followed an uncomfortable few moments of silence as the surprise visit became suddenly awkward. Barbara Ann thought to ask them to step down and come into the house, but she was not sure it was prudent to do so. What if Raymond found out? After all, Emma had been branded a nonbeliever and an instrument of the devil and excommunicated from his church. When the silence became too uncomfortable, Emma finally asked, “What are you folks doin’ in my daddy’s house?”
“Well, you see,” Frank sputtered, “it ain’t really your daddy’s house no more. It belongs to the church now, and we moved over here from that little cabin we had near the creek. Raymond says it’s ours to keep as long as we keep the fields up and take care of the crops.”
“How long was Daddy’s body in the ground before you moved in?” Emma asked, unable to control a spark of temper.
“Ah, honey,” Barbara Ann replied. “You’ve got no cause to be blaming Frank and me. Your mama and papa were gone and you ran off for good. There wasn’t any reason for us not to take over the place. Your sister and her husband didn’t want it, and we needed a better house than that leaky old cabin we were living in. So don’t blame us. It was empty and Raymond charged us with the responsibility to keep the place up, and we’ve been doing that.”
“I reckon you’re right,” Emma said, realizing she was wrong to blame them. “I was gonna stop here because I thought the house would be empty, but I’ll go to Rachael’s house instead. I don’t mean to cause you any hardship.”
“Emma,” Frank warned, “you and your two friends best be careful. Things have changed around here since you’ve been gone. Raymond’s got himself some men he calls his deacons. There’s four of ’em and their main job is to make sure Raymond’s rules are followed, especially on tithing and meetin’ quotas. I’ll be honest with you, Raymond ain’t gonna like it one bit when he finds out you’ve come back. He’s made it a sin to mention your name. I hope none of the deacons see you comin’ from here. They’ll be askin’ me some questions.”
“We’ll go,” Emma said. “We don’t wanna cause you any trouble.”
“You mind if we water our horses first?” Perley asked, nodding toward the water trough by the barn. They were the first words he had spoken since they had arrived.
“I can’t deny a man’s request to water his horses,” Frank replied, even though he watched the road nervously until the horses were watered. “Good luck to ya,” he called out when they left.
* * *
“They sure was happy to see us leave,” Possum said as he guided the horses back down the path to the main trail. Emma made no response to his comment, her mind still shaken by finding Frank and Barbara Ann in her old home. When she had still remained silent when they reached the road again, he asked, “Whaddaya aim to do now?”
Seeming to suddenly come back to the moment, she pointed and said, “That way, we’ll go to my sister’s house.” Possum turned the horses back onto the wagon track they had followed since leaving town. He gave Perley a sideways glance without saying anything.
Riding beside the wagon, Perley understood Possum’s concern. There was no telling what kind of trouble they might ultimately find themselves in from what started out as a simple journey to take a grieving widow home. He couldn’t suppress a long sigh when he once again recalled what his brother John often repeated. If there wasn’t but one cow pie in the whole territory, Perley would likely step in it. This little trip was beginning to look like another one of those adventures that he seemed to find himself in. This fellow, Raymond, sounded like a man with too much ambition, combined with a streak of “don’t give a damn” for the rights of others. Emma said he was a preacher, but Perley wondered what kind of preacher needed four “deacons” to enforce his word? Raymond sounded more like a dictator to him. There was nothing to do but see it through until Emma was settled somewhere. Then maybe he could catch up with his brothers and the cattle.
A quarter of a mile farther brought them to another path leading to another homestead, this one the home of Tom and Rachael Parker. Perley didn’t have to guess the anxiety Emma must be feeling. It was obvious in her face as the wagon followed a winding path to a modest dwelling with a barn and toolshed behind. Beyond the toolshed was a garden. There seemed to be no one about as they pulled up in the yard, but then a little girl came from the barn carrying a basket. She stopped when she saw the wagon and the man on horseback, then proceeded to approach them. “You must be Alice,” Emma greeted her. The sight of the child seemed to make her forget the reason for her visit. “My, but you’re quite the young lady now.”
“I’m not Alice,” the child said. “I’m Melva. Alice is in the house.” She stared openly at Emma, possibly thinking the woman looked familiar, but she was not sure who she was.
“Melva!” Emma responded, surprised, then remembering it had been two years since she had seen the child, then only two years old. “I’m your Aunt Emma.”
Melva still did not respond as a person would have expected. She seemed unaware of anyone named Aunt Emma. Perley speculated that her parents might have refrained from ever mentioning Emma’s name, if they were strict followers of Reverend Raymond as he suspected. It crossed his mind that this could go little better than their visit to Emma’s old home.
“Is your mama in the house?” Emma asked, and when Melva nodded, she said, “You run in and tell her Aunt Emma is here.” The child turned and ran toward the kitchen door.
It was only a couple of minutes before the kitchen door opened again and Emma’s sister and both her daughters came on the run. “My Lord, my Lord,” Rachael muttered. “Emma, is that really you?” Emma climbed down from the wagon to meet her and the two sisters embraced.
Perley and Possum exchanged glances, thinking that maybe this was going to go better than expected. With that in mind, Perley dismounted and Possum climbed down from the wagon seat. “I swear,” Possum saw fit to comment, “nobody woulda had to tell me you two were sisters. You look en
ough alike to be twins.”
“Maybe,” Rachael replied, “if you didn’t stand close enough to see the wrinkles on one of us.”
Standing with her arm around her sister, Emma smiled at Rachael’s other daughter. “This is Alice. I thought Melva was you. I forgot how long it had been since I saw you. I’m your Aunt Emma. Do you remember me?”
“Yes, ma’am, I remember.” She looked up at her mother before adding, “I don’t think I’m supposed to, though. Reverend Raymond told Melva and me we’re not supposed to think about you.”
Her mother reacted with a deep frown of distress, but then immediately started to explain the child’s comment. Emma stopped her quickly, saying an explanation was not necessary. “We stopped at our old house and Frank Lewis told us all about it.” She went on then to tell Rachael about her husband’s death and introduce her to Perley and Possum. After she had finished, Rachael had to ask a question. “Emma, honey, why did you come back here? Don’t you know that Raymond has ordered the community to shun you? He won’t allow you to stay here.” Perley could only shake his head and wonder where this was all going to end up, after having heard the same warnings from Frank Lewis.
“I came back to save you and Tom,” Emma answered Rachael’s question. “To get you and your family away from that crazy man, so you can start a healthy life on land of your own, instead of working like slaves for Raymond Butcher.”
Rachael was immediately distressed. “How in the world are you going to help us, if we pack up and sneak outta here like you did? We don’t have any money to buy land. We’re barely making it here, but at least we know we won’t go hungry as long as Raymond takes care of us.”
“Rachael,” Emma implored. “You know why I ran away. I was supposed to move into that house Raymond has on the hill. Think of your daughters. Do you want Alice or Melva to have to move into that evil den when they reach sixteen? You’ve got Tom and he’s a good man, but he might not be able to deny Raymond anything he wants.”
Judging by the concerned frown on Rachael’s face, Perley guessed she had thought about that possibility before. He was finding it hard to believe that such a community existed in the state of Texas. Looking down at Alice, Rachael could also see a look of concern in her daughter’s face. She thought it best the child should not hear the discussion, so she sent her to get her father from the field he was working in. When the two girls ran to do her bidding, Rachael looked back at Emma. “We can’t leave here. We don’t have any money to buy land or build a new house.”
“I’ve got the money to build a new place,” Emma said softly, but not so softly that she was not overheard by Perley. He cocked his head around to see if Possum had heard her. He met Perley’s gaze with a smile of embarrassment and a shrug, as if to say, I was gonna tell ya.
It occurred to Perley that there must be quite a bit of information that he was not privy to, and it was beginning to look like Emma was not going to be any more welcome here than she was at her old home. He wondered about the limits of his obligation to this unfortunate young woman. He had done all he had agreed to do when he saw her safely to Butcher Bottom, but he was reluctant to run out on her and Possum until she was safely settled someplace. His thoughts were interrupted then with the arrival of Rachael’s husband and their two daughters.
“I declare,” he said when he walked up to them, “it is you, Emma. I wasn’t sure the girls knew what they were talkin’ about when they said you’d come home. You comin’ back to the church? Alice said your husband’s dead.”
“That’s right,” Emma said, “but I’m not comin’ back. I just came to see you.” Once again, she repeated the purpose of her visit to Butcher Bottom, and after hearing the whole story, Tom was not as receptive as Emma had hoped he would be.
“So Raymond didn’t give you permission to come back,” he said. “In fact, he doesn’t even know you’re here?” He paused to give that some thought. “I don’t know, Emma. It’da been a whole lot better if you had gotten Raymond’s blessin’ before you came back. Things have changed some.”
“Have they changed for the better?” Emma asked.
“No,” Rachael answered for him. “They’ve changed for the worse.”
“Well, maybe things are a little bit tighter now,” Tom admitted. “I mean with the deacons and all. You won’t get into any trouble, though, as long as you mind your farm and your business. Sure, I’d like to get away from this place and find a better spot to light, but it’d be hard to do.” He started to say more, but suddenly stopped in mid-sentence to stare at the path Emma and her friends had arrived on. Perley turned to see four riders coming into the yard. He knew at once that he was looking at the deacons. Dressed alike, all in black, and all riding black horses, they rode in at a fast trot and stopped their horses in a half circle facing Emma’s wagon.
Perley and Possum exchanged concerned glances, both getting the same impression of Reverend Raymond’s deacons. Four rougher-looking men would be hard to find to carry out the Lord’s business, if, in fact, Raymond Butcher recognized the Lord as his inspiration. Hard-looking men, all f our were no doubt well experienced in wielding the weapons they wore.
Branch Cantrell, the leader of the deacons, reached up and touched his hat brim, “Miz Parker, Tom, I heard you had some company.” He cast a critical eye on the three strangers before continuing. “I thought I’d best ride on over here to make sure these outsiders ain’t come to make trouble for you.”
“No, no trouble,” Tom quickly replied. “Matter of fact, they just rolled up in the yard a few minutes before you rode up. Just stopped by to say hello on their way outta town.” He cast a nervous eye toward his wife, hoping she wouldn’t tell them that Emma was her sister. Cantrell and his thugs were not hired until after Emma had left the community, so Tom hoped they wouldn’t know that Emma was supposed to be forbidden from ever coming back to Butcher Bottom. His hopes were in vain.
“Word I got says that woman right there is Emma Wise, a woman shunned by the congregation and forbidden to ever return,” Cantrell said. “Now, Tom, you know you ain’t supposed to go against the Reverend’s orders. Raymond ain’t gonna be too pleased with you for this. He might wanna have you stand up in front of the congregation Sunday to tell everybody why you sinned.”
“We ain’t done nothin’ wrong,” Tom implored. “I was workin’ in the field when my daughters came to get me—said these folks came to the house, and for me to come see. I just got here about two minutes before you did.”
“I reckon you can explain that to Raymond,” Cantrell said.
Standing near the wagon, Perley remained silent for as long as he could manage. Astonished by what he was hearing, he found it hard to believe people like Tom and Rachael would live under rules made by some lunatic who called himself a preacher. “I think you’re makin’ a big mistake, mister. Tom, here, ain’t broke any of your boss’ rules,” he finally said.
His interruption caused Cantrell to jerk his head back as if he’d been slapped in the face. The three men with him reacted as well, becoming instantly alerted from a state of boredom. “Just who the hell are you?” Cantrell demanded of Perley.
“My name’s Perley Gates,” he replied in much the same manner any gentleman would during a casual conversation with another one.
“Perley Gates?” Cantrell responded in the same way most bullies did upon hearing Perley’s name. “You japin’ me? I’ll send you to see those Pearly Gates right now if you open your mouth again.” Figuring that was enough to shut him up, he turned his attention back to Tom then, but Perley wasn’t through.
“This lady you referred to as Emma Wise is really Mrs. Emma Slocum and she ain’t been shunned by anybody. Maybe you heard of her father-in-law, Zachary Slocum. Has a ranch and a full crew of hands to run it, and I don’t expect he’ll sit still for any disrespect to his daughter-in-law and his grandson. Best thing for you to do is to turn right around and lead your men outta here, and I won’t say nothin’ to the Governor of Texas
about you insultin’ his friend. We’ll finish our little visit with these folks and take our leave when we’re done. How’s that? That okay with you?”
All four deacons sat stunned in their saddles, broadsided by the seemingly inane conversation coming from the glib young man. Accustomed to living off the fear of the meek, Cantrell found himself at a loss for words. After a long moment of silence, he felt he had to respond, but he was not sure how. Finally, he said, “Strangers passin’ through Butcher Bottom are supposed to stop at Tuck’s Store to state their business here. This is a private community.”
“See, now, that’s the thing,” Perley replied. “We saw the sign, but it didn’t look like there was anybody at the store when we got there. So, we figured we weren’t doin’ anything but takin’ Mrs. Slocum to see her sister and that couldn’t hurt anybody, and we came on in.” He favored Cantrell with a friendly smile while the befuddled deacon tried to think what he should say. “But we won’t take up any more of your time, sir,” Perley continued. “We’ll let you and your men get back to the important business of keepin’ the citizens of Butcher Bottom safe. And I know Mr. and Mrs. Parker appreciate you checkin’ on ’em to make sure they were safe, but they ain’t gonna come to any harm from us.”
It took a few minutes of awkward silence before Cantrell realized he had lost control of the confrontation with the stranger, and when he did, his anger flared to life. “Why, you slick-talkin’ son of a bitch, I ain’t shot nobody today, so I think I’ll put a bullet in your head and stop your gums from flappin’. There ain’t nothin’ worse that a damn know-it-all. Now, Mr. Perley Gates, we’ve seen how good you can talk. Let’s see if you can back it up. That looks like a Colt handgun, you any good with it?”
“Passable,” Perley said, “but I don’t see any need to start thinkin’ about things like that. Like I said, we’ll just be visitin’ the Parkers for a little while, then we’ll be on our way.” He realized now that his attempt to fast-talk the stoic deacon was unsuccessful, and the net result had left him facing four violent men, apparently ready to shut his mouth for good. “It’s not a good idea to be talkin’ about gunfights in front of these young girls and their mother. How ’bout if we make an appointment to meet in the mornin’ to settle this argument?” His plea caused a chuckle from the other three deacons. He knew he was in too deep to help himself now. “Well, why don’t we make it a fair fight? It ain’t even a contest, if I have to face four of you at the same time.”
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