“Someday soon, Mister Clay,” she whispered, “you won’t have to go!”
CHAPTER 14
“YOU LEARN A LOT ON A COON HUNT”
Josh Yancy liked and respected Lowell Rocklin deeply. Indeed, except for his own father and Clay, there was no man he thought more of. For this reason he had jumped at the chance to go back to Gracefield—so that he could spend more time with him.
But it hadn’t worked out that way. Clay had taken him to the room that would be his, a snug room built off the barn. Then Clay had taken the tall young man around and lined out his work. Afterward Josh had said, “C–can I go see M–Mister Lowell now?”
“Yes, Josh, I wish you would.” Clay held the boy’s eyes, adding, “My son is pretty depressed. He needs all the friends he can get. I’d appreciate it if you’d spend a lot of time with him.”
“Why, s–sure I w–will!”
Josh went at once to the Big House, and Susanna had greeted him warmly. “Why, Josh, I hear you’re going to be taking over some of the work around here. That’s good to hear. We need a good man on the place!” She had smiled at his embarrassment, then asked, “Did you come to see Lowell?”
“Y–yes, ma’am.”
“Come right along. I’ll take you to his room.”
Josh had yanked off his floppy hat and held tightly to it as he followed Susanna down the hall. He had been in the Big House before, but it always made him feel awkward and out of place. Susanna turned through one of the doors, and when Josh entered, he saw Lowell sitting in a wheelchair staring out the window.
“Look who’s come to visit with you, Lowell,” she said brightly.
Josh stepped forward and was shocked to see how pale and thin Lowell Rocklin was. He hid his thoughts, however, and said, “H–hello, Mister L–Lowell. I’m g–glad to see you.”
Lowell looked up, but he didn’t smile. “Hello, Josh,” he said briefly. His eyes were flat, and his mouth was pulled tight as if he’d tasted something sour. His attitude was more of a shock to Josh than his physical appearance, for Lowell Rocklin had been one of the most cheerful people the boy had ever seen.
“Now, Josh, you sit down and you two can talk,” Susanna said quickly. “I know you must be hungry, so I’ll have Dorrie fix up something for you both.”
“Don’t fix anything for me,” Lowell said flatly.
Susanna hesitated, then left the room. Josh stood there uncomfortably, for Lowell hadn’t invited him to sit down. Finally he eased into the chair facing Lowell and said, “I’m g–gonna be w–working here, Mister L–Lowell.”
Lowell glanced up at the boy without interest, nodded, and muttered, “That’s good.”
Josh was not good at small talk—his speech impediment kept him quiet with most people. But in the past he’d been so excited working with Lowell that he’d talked as much with that young man as he ever had with anyone. But for the next half hour, he was absolutely miserable. Lowell sat in his chair silent as a stone, not even answering the questions the boy asked him—merely nodding as if it didn’t interest him much.
Josh grew desperate and finally asked, “What w–was it like…the b–battle, I m–mean?”
Lowell had glared at Josh, and for the only time in the conversation, some life showed in his eyes. He gestured down at his stump, then said acidly, “It was like that!”
Josh had been crushed and fell silent. The two sat there, Josh longing to leave but not knowing how. When Susanna came to the door to say, “Come along, you two,” he was on his feet in an instant. He looked at the wheelchair and asked, “C–can I help you to the d–dining r–room, Mister Lowell?”
“No! I don’t need any help!”
Susanna saw the boy’s head move as if he’d been struck. She touched his arm, saying, “Go along to the kitchen, Josh. I’ll be there soon.” He went with a gust of relief.
When he was in the kitchen, he found that Dorrie had put a plate of hot food on the table and a big glass of cool buttermilk. He began to eat, and she stood at the end of the table for a time. Her eyes were dark and brooding, and she finally said, “Mister Lowell, he bad off. Gonna take the hand of Gawd to help dat boy!”
Josh looked at her, startled, then nodded. “I r–reckon so, D–Dorrie,” he said slowly. He was thinking, This ain’t gonna be as much fun as I thought, but he kept that thought to himself, and when Susanna entered, he saw she was troubled.
“You’ll have to be patient with Mister Lowell,” she said quietly. “It’s very hard for him.”
“Yes, m–ma’am.”
“He’s always been so strong and able…the best horseman in the country, the fastest at the races the boys ran.” She shrugged her shoulders, then turned to face the boy. “You two were very close, Josh. He thinks a lot of you…as if you were a younger brother. Please try to help him all you can.”
“I sure w–will!” Josh nodded. He hated to see the Rocklins so torn by the tragedy and said hopefully, “H–he’ll be f–fine, you’ll s–see!”
Susanna gave him a thankful look, then began to speak of other things. But after the boy left, she and Dorrie sat down. The black woman knew Susanna well. “Doan you be frettin’ now, Miz Susanna,” she said firmly. “Gawd is gonna bring us through dis…lak He done brought us through befo’.”
Susanna felt the force of the woman’s love and loyalty and put her hand out. When the hard, work-worn hand of Dorrie closed around hers, she felt a rush of gratitude and said, “I don’t know what the Rocklins would do without you, Dorrie.”
Rena missed her father more than ever. Ever since he’d come back from his wanderings, she’d clung to him fiercely, and when he’d gone to the army, it had been terrible for her. Susanna had done her best, but her need for a strong man was something that no woman could give. Her own mother had given her so little love, and now even she was gone. Rena felt more alone than ever.
She visited Melora and had gotten very close to Rose, but the visits were rare. So Rena was left with much time on her hands. She did her best to help with the nursing and spent many hours with Uncle Mark. He was cheerful at times, but his wound was a constant drain on his strength, and she could only sit beside him, reading to him a great deal.
As for Lowell, after a few determined efforts to pull him from the despair that was eating his life away, she gave up but helped with his food and other slight chores. She longed to talk to Lowell, for the two had been close once, but now he was closed off behind some sort of wall that Rena could not penetrate.
When Rooney came, Rena was happy, for she got along well with the girl. But Rooney was busy helping Susanna and Dorrie and taking care of Lowell. Buck spent much time in the fields learning about crops, so Rena was alone.
She read for hours, the same books that Clay had read with her when he’d first come home. She loved to remember those days when she’d had him all to herself! They had been the best days of her life—just she and her father alone in the summerhouse, with books and a fire and lots of time in the crisp nights and then in the cobwebby mornings. How she longed for those days!
But they were gone. And now dark thoughts pushed aside the good memories. She no longer dreamed of days past but rather had terrifying nightmares. They were always the same, and they always woke her with a fright that made her heart beat like a trip-hammer.
They were brief dreams, lasting only a few seconds. She was in the summerhouse when a horse came down the lane. She would rise from her chair and go outside—and fear would sweep over her. The horse was black as night, and the rider was dressed in dark clothing. A black hat was pulled over his eyes, and his face was concealed behind a black neckerchief. Rena would stand there as this frightening horseman drew close, fear crawling though her mind. When he arrived, his great horse drawn up before him, he leaned forward, and Rena saw that he had no face, just a skull–like feature with burning eyes that seemed to scorch her skin and shrivel her where she stood.
She would try to run, but she was paralyzed. Then he would spea
k in a voice that rattled like chains, and his breath was like an open grave as he said with a vile laugh, “Your father is dead!”
Then Rena would scream and come out of her sleep, gasping and weeping. It would take hours for her trembling limbs to grow still, and she came to dread the night for fear of the nightmare coming again.
She’d had the dream the night before she went downstairs to find Uncle Mark sitting at the table. He could move around very little and always with great pain, but he covered his discomfort by saying, “Good morning, Rena. Come and eat some of these good pancakes Dorrie fixed for you and me.”
“I’m not very hungry,” she said but sat down, and when Dorrie put a golden brown pancake on her plate, she cut it into neat morsels and began to eat. Mark noted her wan face but said nothing. Missing her father, he thought and set out to take her mind off Clay.
“Gracefield has a new hand, did you know that?” he said, smiling.
“A new hand?”
“Yes, young Josh Yancy. You know him, don’t you?”
“Oh yes. He helped Lowell with the balloon.”
“He’s quite an interesting boy. Clay was telling me how handy he is with tools.” Mark forced himself to eat another bite of pancake, then added, “Ought to be company for you. You’re about the same age.”
“He’s very shy,” Rena remarked. “I guess because he stutters so bad.”
“I think he might get over that,” Mark said. “Some people do. Has he always stuttered?”
“Oh yes. I’ve known him for a long time—all my life, really. But he’s a strange boy.” She sipped the cocoa from the china mug, then said thoughtfully, “You know, Uncle Mark, now that I think of it, he’s always avoided me. Every time I’ve gone to visit Melora, he always stayed out hunting. And he’d come in late, after I was in bed. The only time he’d talk to me was when we were out with the pigs—and then he only talked about those dirty animals!”
“What does Melora say?”
“I asked her about Josh once, and she talked about him a long time. I could see she was worried about him.” Rena chewed a bite of pancake thoughtfully, then said, “She told me some people seem to be born feeling they’re not as good as other people. She said Josh was like that. Even though he could do so many things so well, like making things and hunting and shooting. But she said she thought he stuttered because he felt like he is inferior.”
“I’ve heard of things like that,” Mark murmured. “But if he ever finds out he’s not inferior, he might not stutter at all.”
“I guess so.” Rena looked at her uncle, then asked, “Do you think Lowell will get better, Uncle Mark? I mean—the way he acts?”
Mark frowned, for he had put this question to himself many times. He hesitated, not wanting to discourage the young woman, and finally said, “His problem is sort of like the one Josh has, Rena. He thinks because he lost a leg he’s not the equal of other men. That’s not unusual, I believe. Not true, of course, but with a strong young man like Lowell, it must seem that way. He’s thinking nobody will ever love him—no woman, that is. And that’s hard on a young man.”
The two sat there talking, and Rooney joined them, and finally Susanna. They talked carefully around the subject of Lowell’s condition, and finally Rena rose, saying, “I’m going riding if it’s all right.”
Her grandmother agreed, and she went at once to change into a riding habit that Clay had bought for her, one with a divided skirt that had made her the object of considerable gossip. But she loved to ride the horse Clay had gotten her and could not bear the sidesaddle most women used.
When she got to the stable, she found that all the stable hands were gone and set out to saddle the mare herself. But Candy was a difficult horse to manage, and finally after half an hour, Rena was exhausted and furious.
“You dumb ol’ horse!” she cried angrily. “I ought to beat you with a stick.”
“C–can I h–help you, M–Miss Rena?”
Rena whirled to find that Josh had come across the field and was watching her. Suspecting that he might be laughing at her, she snapped, “No! I’ll get this saddle on if it kills me!”
Josh started to leave, but he couldn’t just leave Rena to struggle with that all day.
He was, in fact, more afraid of Rena Rocklin than he was of almost anything—and always had been. Clay had brought her to his home often when she was only a child, and Josh remembered every visit! He didn’t remember, however, the moment when he’d grown so tense around her that he avoided her. All he knew was that she was so beautiful and so far above him that he could not bear the thought of being humiliated by her. She’d never made fun of his handicap, but he was terrified that she might—and he didn’t think he could stand that!
But now he forced his timidity to one side, came forward, and picked up the saddle. Ignoring her protests, he moved toward Candy, murmuring her name. The mare watched him suspiciously but allowed him to grasp her bridle. He tied her to the rail fence, then slapped the saddle on her. He tightened the cinch, then turned to say, “Y–you just h–have to let her kn–know who’s boss.”
Rena smiled suddenly and said, “Thanks, Josh.” She mounted and took the reins. But instead of riding away, she asked, “How do you like living here, Josh?”
Josh had turned to leave but, at her question, stopped and turned to face her. “F–fine, Miss R–Rena,” he replied. As always his mind went into some sort of paralysis, and he cursed himself. After she’s gone, I’ll think of all kinds of stuff to say!
Rena waited for him to say more; then when she saw that he was silent, she said, “You ought to go hunting. I know you and your father love that. My father said the woods are stiff with coons this year.”
At once Josh’s face brightened. “I’d l–like that! I’ll f–find me a d–dog and go t–tonight!”
A whim came to Rena, born perhaps out of the boredom of her life—or perhaps out of a desire to spend her night free of the nightmare. “Take me with you, Josh,” she said impulsively.
“Why, I c–can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“B–because…” Josh wanted to say that aristocratic young ladies didn’t go running through the woods with poor white boys, but he couldn’t manage all that. He stood before her helplessly, not knowing what to say. Finally he shook his head. “Miz R–Rocklin—she wouldn’t like it!”
Rena grinned at Josh. “You haven’t been here long enough to find out how spoiled I am! I can get anything I want out of my grandmother.” While not far from the truth, Rena knew that she would have to maneuver carefully to do anything as wild as this! “I’ve even got a dog,” she said. “The slaves borrow Buck sometimes to go coon hunting. You have to take me, though, to get Buck.” Rena laughed at the shocked expression on Josh’s face, then added, “Buck and Rooney will probably want to go. They don’t know any more about hunting coons than I do, so you’ll have to teach us all. What time do we leave?”
They left at dusk, Josh still in shock. He had never for one moment believed that the Rocklins would let Rena go on a coon hunt, but Rena had produced her grandmother with a flourish, bringing her to the blacksmith shop, where Josh was helping Box.
“My granddaughter tells me you fancy yourself a coon hunter, Josh,” Susanna Rocklin had said at once. “Is that right?”
Josh had blinked in surprise, appalled. That fool girl has got me in trouble right off, he’d thought. “W–well, I’ve g–got a few, ma’am.”
“Well, it’s not very ladylike. But I can’t think of a better reason than that for her not to go, so you take her along. Take Rooney and Buck, too.” Susanna had smiled fondly at Rena, then instructed Josh, “Don’t let them get chewed up by a bear or some other wild creature, you hear me?”
Josh had been too surprised to do more than nod, but at dusk he was joined by the three, who were all happy at the thought of spending the night in the woods.
Josh had said at once, “Go put on warmer c–clothes, and bring a bl–blanket
!” He had gone to the kitchen and gotten enough food from Dorrie, who glared at him.
“Boy, you watch out fo’ dem young folks!”
“I w–will, D–Dorrie,” he muttered, then left the kitchen to go to the barn. He tied the sack on a mule named Revelation, and when the others came with blankets, he strapped them on.
“We can’t all ride one mule, Josh,” Buck piped up.
Josh grinned suddenly. “Nope. We w–walk, just l–like he does.”
Rooney laughed at Buck, saying, “You wouldn’t know a coon if you saw one!”
“Would, too!”
Rena was happy as she said, “Let’s go, Josh. Buck’s ready!”
The big dog sensed the excitement and ran ahead as they left the grounds. Josh spoke to him, and Buck came at once to his call. Rena was surprised. “Buck won’t mind most people like that,” she said. “How do you do that—make him mind?”
“Don’t know.” Josh shrugged. “M–most dogs seem t–to mind me.”
Josh had been careful to talk to some of the slaves who hunted and had gotten good instructions. He led them to a spot about five miles from the house and then said, “Here w–we are.”
Buck looked around, asking, “Where’s the coons, Josh?”
“More to c–coon hunting th–than you might think,” Josh said with a grin. “Let’s m–make a fire.”
The three of them ran to find wood, and by the time Josh had unloaded Revelation, they had enough to build a large fire. “Can I start it, Josh?” Buck asked. “I know how to build a fire.”
“Fly at it, B–Buck!”
Josh let the three do the work, and when the fire was crackling, he pulled out a blanket and sat down on it close to the fire. Rena stared at him. “When do we get the coons?” she asked.
“Not for a l–long time,” Josh said. Clasping his legs, he looked at the three who were all ready to start killing coons with both hands. “The b–best part of a hunt is sittin’ around the f–fire,” he said mildly.
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