These Tangled Threads

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These Tangled Threads Page 21

by Tracie Peterson


  “Let’s stay close to the outer perimeter. I don’t want my clumsiness to interfere with the other dancers,” Daughtie requested, pushing against the pressure of his hand on the small of her back as he attempted to lead her into the crowd.

  He acquiesced, and they moved somewhat clumsily, with Daughtie making a valiant attempt to follow Ivan’s lead.

  She grimaced when her foot came down hard atop his boot. “I’m sorry,” she apologized with a weak smile.

  “No need to apologize. Practice makes perfect. We’ll just keep trying,” he replied in a cheery tone.

  When the musicians announced the need for a few minutes to refresh themselves, Daughtie sighed with relief. Taking Ivan’s arm, she joined the throng of dancers moving back toward their tables. However, Ivan pulled her to a stop when shouting voices and the sound of pounding feet drifted into the room. He drew her close to his side as several men burst through the front door of the Old Stone House.

  “Where’s Mr. Boott and Mr. Cheever?” one of the men shouted. His eyes glistened in the flickering light cast by the sperm-oil lamps. He gazed about the room, his panic obvious for all to see.

  Kirk and Matthew approached the men and began talking in hushed whispers while the partygoers milled about, obviously hoping to overhear some snippet of their conversation. Several minutes passed before Kirk finally requested that the partygoers take their seats. The guests strained forward, watching as he mounted the small platform being used by the musicians.

  “I’ve just received word that there are vandals attempting to destroy the Pawtucket Dam at this very moment. I need able-bodied men to accompany us, men prepared to block these evildoers by any means necessary. If you have easily accessible weapons, bring them with you. I don’t want any bloodshed, but we don’t know if these men are armed.”

  “Who are these miscreants? Do you have any idea, Mr. Boott?” someone called out from across the room.

  “We’ve been told they are farmers from the surrounding area. However, there may be those among them who merely enjoy a fracas. We can’t be certain. One thing is clear: this matter requires our immediate attention. Ladies, I apologize for leaving you without dance partners, but perhaps you can remain and enjoy the company of one another as well as the food that’s been prepared. I’m hoping we’ll soon return and the evening will not be totally spoiled. Gentlemen, please join me,” he encouraged, obviously hopeful the men would rally to the cause.

  The scraping of chairs echoed throughout the hall, and men scurried toward the door. Daughtie turned toward Ivan, who remained seated beside her. “You’d best get your medical bag and accompany them,” she urged. “If the men resort to fisticuffs, they’ll need medical aid.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” he acknowledged, though still not moving. “But my preference is to remain here with you.”

  “I imagine the other men would prefer to remain here, too. However, they’re already on their way.”

  He placed an arm across the back of Daughtie’s chair and drew near. “But they didn’t have the pleasure of escorting you. If they had, they’d still be here, too,” he whispered.

  Daughtie leaned back and met his gaze. Both his words and the look in his eyes caused her discomfort.

  Matthew pulled back on the reins and brought the carriage to a halt in front of the Old Stone House. As the men began scurrying out of the building, Matthew directed them to the livery. “Kirk, Nathan, Josiah, and I will meet you at Kittredge’s. Mr. Kittredge has two wagons we can use. He’s hitching up the teams. It’s best we travel as a group,” Matthew called after them. He waited until the three men were settled into the carriage and then flicked the reins.

  “Seems it’s just one problem after another here in Lowell,” Josiah complained, grasping Kirk’s arm as the carriage wheeled around at breakneck speed. “Could you slow the horses down before this carriage turns over?” he shouted while tapping Matthew on the back with his silver-tipped walking stick. “Is there some sort of management problem, Kirk?”

  Nathan turned in his seat and glared at Josiah. “As I recall, you’re the one who said we should ignore the farmers’ complaints and grumbled because we held a discussion of the issue. And let me see, weren’t you the one who voted against exploring the possibility of expanding the millpond?”

  “No need for sarcasm, Nathan,” Josiah replied. “Did you tell the farmers we’re attempting to renovate the millpond, Kirk?”

  Matthew slowed the carriage as they neared the livery and motioned the men to follow. Both wagons were filled with men, a number of them bearing weapons—either their own or those loaned to them by Mr. Kittredge, Matthew surmised.

  Once they were on the road to the dam, Josiah turned his attention back to Kirk. “You didn’t answer my question. Did you talk to the farmers?”

  “Yes, they’ve been advised. However, they expressed their dissatisfaction with the idea, saying they weren’t going to wait until engineers did a survey and report. Instead, they said they’d handle it in their own way. I suppose this is what they meant. Let’s hope they don’t have a keg of gunpowder waiting to greet us.”

  “You actually think they might destroy the dam?”

  “That’s what I explained at our Boston meeting, Mr. Baines. They want the dam out of there,” Matthew called over his shoulder.

  The horses raced on, their hooves drumming out a warning of the approaching wagons. “Up there, Kirk!” Nathan shouted, pointing toward the dam. “It looks as though there may be thirty or forty men. Let’s pray they don’t have weapons leveled in our direction.”

  The instant Nathan’s words had been uttered, Kirk leaned forward and shouted in Matthew’s direction, “Stop the carriage. Now!”

  Matthew pulled hard on the reins, hoping the wagons behind him would stop in time. “What’s wrong?” he shouted to Kirk.

  “Nathan’s words made me wonder if they might have those men out in the open to entice us onward. There may be an ambush up ahead. I don’t want to ride directly into harm’s way. Have one or two of the men make their way closer. They can see if there’s a trap and discover what’s actually happening closer to the dam. Surely the farmers have men watching the road. They’ve likely heard us coming.”

  “I’ll go,” Matthew volunteered.

  “No! I forbid it. I’ll not have you risking your life. Ask one of the men in the other wagons to go.”

  Matthew swung about, startled at Kirk’s request. “My life is no more valuable than any of those men!”

  In the dim moonlight, Kirk’s features appeared carved in granite. “Don’t question my decisions. Do as you’re told.” His voice had taken on the harshness of a father reprimanding his errant son.

  Matthew stalked off toward the wagons without a word. Anything he wanted to say would be disrespectful. He neared the first wagon. “Any volunteers to see if there’s an ambush lying in wait up the road? We need two or three men.”

  “You afeared to go?” Thomas Getty hollered with a loud guffaw before jumping down from the wagon. Two other men joined Thomas, both of them obviously amused by his remark.

  “I volunteered, but Mr. Boott refused my offer.”

  “Of course he did,” Thomas replied, his retort followed by another round of laughter. “Let’s get going before Matthew insists upon replacing one of us.”

  Matthew gazed heavenward. Attempting to defend himself had only made matters worse. “Get your instructions from Mr. Boott before you rush off. And each of you needs to take a weapon,” he called after them. One of the men came racing back to the wagon and retrieved a rifle from one of his friends. He nodded at Matthew, his grin still intact as he scurried after the other two men, who were already making their way down the dark roadway.

  “That was most embarrassing,” Matthew mumbled while climbing back into the carriage.

  A volley of gunfire cracked through the dark silence shrouding their carriage. “Better embarrassed than dead. I hope none of them is injured,” Kirk matter-o
f-factly replied. “We need at least one of them to get back here with a report.”

  Matthew stared in disbelief. As far as he was concerned, Kirk’s remarks went beyond callous. They were both self-serving and cruel. “These men volunteered to assist us. I can’t believe you feel no distress over their welfare.”

  Kirk shook his head in disgust. “Distress? What good does it do if I sit here wringing my hands like a frightened child? I spent my early adulthood in England training for the military. Battle requires intelligent tactical decisions and people who carry out orders without question. I’ll not apologize for exemplary battlefield behavior.”

  “But those men are not soldiers under your command; they’re ordinary citizens,” Matthew argued.

  “Technically, you’re correct, but they are also employees who are dependent upon their positions in the mills. If the dam is destroyed, they’ll find themselves without wages until it’s reconstructed. They may not be soldiers, but they are men fighting for their livelihood.”

  A rumbling explosion sounded in the distance, and the ground shuddered underfoot. The two men silenced their arguing while all eyes focused upon Kirk and awaited his direction.

  “Hold fast!” he called out as Thomas Getty came racing toward them.

  Chest heaving and gasping for breath, Thomas clung to the side of the buggy. “We need to advance around the woods to the left. They set off an explosion to block our path, and they’re readying to blow up the dam.”

  Kirk shouted for the wagons to follow, and Matthew grasped Thomas by the arm. “Get in the carriage!” he hollered, assisting Thomas up before cracking the whip and sending the horses into a gallop. “Direct the way!” he shouted to Thomas.

  Thomas pointed toward a growth of trees. “You’ll need to slow down. We’ve got to navigate through those tall pines. Horace and Zedediah are waiting for us.”

  “No injuries, then?” Matthew asked.

  “No, we’re all fine, but that explosion scared the stuffin’ out of Zed,” he said with a chuckle. “Lodged a particle of fear in me, but I didn’t tell Horace or Zed. They don’t think nothing bothers me.” As their progress slowed, he stated, “Think we’ll do better on foot from here on out. Too hard to get the wagons through the rocks and trees, and some of their men may be scattered about out here. Besides, the wagons make too much noise.” Thomas then emitted an eerie hooting sound that brought Zed and Horace running toward them.

  “There’s more of us than them,” Horace reported. “I made it over to the dam. They’re getting powder kegs ready to set off, so we need to get moving. Best be careful where you shoot. If we hit one of them kegs, we’ll all be blown to kingdom come.”

  Kirk gathered the men close. “Stay together until I signal. Then separate into four groups,” he said, quickly pushing the men into four clusters. “When you hear a single gunshot, I want those of you with weapons to fire them into the air. When they hear gunfire coming from four different directions, I’m hoping they’ll believe they’re mightily outnumbered and surrounded. If we can frighten them off without bloodshed, I’ll be satisfied.”

  Thomas aligned with one group of the men. “I don’t aim to kill no one, but if they start shooting at us, we’ll have to return fire. This could turn into a massacre. I don’t think none of us want to see that happen, Mr. Boott.”

  Kirk nodded his agreement. “I don’t, either, so let’s be cautious and pray for the best,” he said, signaling the men to move out.

  “Apparently the suggestion of prayer was only a figure of speech,” Matthew murmured before silently making his own plea for safety among them and taking his assigned position near the rear.

  “Mr. Boott appears confident. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost believe he was enjoying himself,” one of the men beside Matthew remarked.

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s enjoying himself. He’s likely remembering all those years of military instruction years ago. I’d guess he’s surprised to be putting the training into use at a small dam in Lowell,” Matthew replied. “There’s the signal to break off into our section and head south.”

  Kirk’s lone shot resonated in the distance. The men followed instructions, answering his single blast with a volley of gunfire. The countryside was filled with the sound of gunfire, shouting men, and pounding feet trampling through the woods.

  “Hold your fire!” The order echoed down through the ranks in a ripple effect.

  When the shadowy wooded area had once again grown silent, Kirk summoned Matthew forward. “They want to talk,” he told Matthew. “I want you to go with me. Some of them will recognize you. If we’re lucky, they’ll still consider you one of their own and be more responsive to us.”

  “I doubt my presence will aid you, but I’m happy to lend my assistance,” Matthew replied.

  It took but a few minutes to walk the short distance to a clearing near the dam. No less than twenty angry-looking men, all of them armed, stood waiting as they made their appearance. “We have no weapons,” Kirk said. He moved slowly, careful to show the men he truly was unarmed. Matthew, following Kirk’s example, moved forward and stood beside him.

  Matthew squinted into the darkness. “Simon? Is that you?”

  Simon Fenske edged his way forward between two men. “Yep—sure is.”

  “I’m surprised to see you among these men. I’ve always known you to be a man of reason, not one who would join forces with a group intent on taking the law into their own hands,” Matthew said, moving closer.

  “Don’t try to influence me with your flattering words, Matthew. I’m here because I support this cause. Not all of us sold out to the Corporation. We still earn our living from the land,” Simon replied harshly.

  “If we’re to continue fishing and farming this land, we need this water running free like God intended. Either tear down this dam or we will!” another man shouted.

  A chorus of support rang out from the surrounding throng, and soon the men were shouting in cadence: “Tear down the dam! Tear down the dam! Tear down the dam!”

  Kirk waited patiently and then slowly waved his arm in the air. “If you’ll permit me to speak,” he shouted, obviously hoping that his voice would be heard above the chanting men. “Gentlemen! Gentlemen!”

  With the metal of his weapon gleaming in the moonlight, Simon Fenske gestured to the crowd. The pulsing mantra ebbed into a deafening silence before he finally spoke. “Let’s see what Mr. Boott has to say. We don’t have to agree, but we’ve got nothing to lose by hearing him out.”

  Reluctant nods and murmurs of uncertain compliance hung in the air like gloomy shrouds begging for elimination.

  Kirk cleared his throat, tugged at his waistcoat, and gave Matthew a pat on the back. “This young man is one of your own. He’s tilled the soil and loves this land like all of you. We’ve talked at length about the concerns you’ve expressed over the dam and how it impacts your land and livelihood. We are deeply grieved that while the dam has created industrialization and progress for many of us, it has caused grief and hardship for others. Our goal is to find a reasonable solution, but we can’t accomplish anything in haste.”

  “We can completely destroy the dam in less than an hour,” someone shouted from the rear of the group.

  “Demolition of property is not the answer,” Kirk replied firmly. “We’re reasonable men who can solve this problem without harm to one another or the dam. Would you be willing to appoint one among you to act as a representative to meet with us? Someone you trust to speak and make agreements on your behalf?”

  “What do you say, men? Do you want to talk or fight?” Simon bellowed.

  “You talk to ’em, Simon,” John Wells called out, “but we ain’t willing to wait until they have all them fancy-pants fellers come from the city to do a report. There’s enough men at the Locks and Canals that can figure out what needs to be done to free up this water.”

  “You willing to talk with ’em, Simon?” another man shouted.

  Si
mon reached up under his cap and scratched his head. “If that’s what you want, I’ll meet with them. However, I’ll not enter into any agreement without the consent of the group. I’m not looking to lose any friends over this.”

  “Why don’t we meet tomorrow morning? Matthew and I can come out to your farm. And any of you other men who want to be present—please feel free to attend,” Kirk said, raising his voice so the entire assemblage could hear the offer.

  “Tomorrow’s fine,” Simon replied.

  “Do I have your agreement that nothing further will happen here at the dam until we’ve talked?” Kirk inquired, extending his hand.

  “You have our word,” Simon said, shaking hands and sealing the agreement.

  Daughtie hurried out of the mill, anxious to eat supper and be on her way to Liam’s. “Hurry up, Ruth. You’re plodding along like a lazy mule.”

  “I’m tired. Some of us were up very late last night.”

  “Don’t whine. You chose to remain at the ball and lose sleep. I didn’t.”

  “Oh, don’t act so self-righteous, Daughtie. The only reason you left the ball was because you thought Dr. Ketter might return. You didn’t fool me one jot with your story of a headache and being tired. Running off was an easy way to escape your obligation.”

  “Escape my obligation? I fulfilled my duty. I attended the ball. He’s the one who departed the dance.”

  “At your urging. I heard you tell him there might be injuries and he should go along with the men,” Ruth rebutted.

  “I was thinking of the men, not myself.”

  “Of course you were. And that’s why you rushed home and prepared for bed the minute the men rode out of town.” The sarcasm dripped from Ruth’s words like thick oozing syrup.

  A deafening silence remained between them until they arrived at the boardinghouse. “I don’t want to argue,” Daughtie said, turning the knob of the front door.

  “Good evening, ladies,” Ivan Ketter greeted in an exceedingly cordial tone. He gave a slight bow from the waist with one arm carefully tucked behind his back.

 

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