The Heaviest Rock (An Ozark Mountain Series Book 3)

by Alan Black

  Grace shook her head. “I think it’d be fitting to let you, but I need him to catch the other men we’re after.”

  Mercy looked thoughtful and started to speak, but the front door flew open with a gust of wind and rain at the same time the back door opened. The cross breeze blew a damp chill through the barn. It had become stormy dark outside, almost dark enough to match the mood inside.

  Sariah Washington stumbled in through the back door. She stood over Odie’s body, staring, eyes glazed over with a blank expression as a testament to her shock.

  Grace said, “Mrs. Washington, did Trixie stay with your sons?”

  Sariah nodded, but did not take her eyes off Odie.

  Mercy wrapped her arms around Sariah and held her without speaking.

  Grace turned to the front door. LillieBeth was standing over Taradittles. The girl was watching the women, tears streamed down her face. She was soaked from the pouring rain and her hair dripped water, but Grace knew her face well enough to recognize tears.

  LillieBeth looked at Grace. She tried to speak but nothing came out. She held up two handfuls of manacles. She shook them, rattling the chains.

  Grace took a deep breath, “It looks like it’s raining hard enough to chase away any gawkers. What took so long?”

  LillieBeth nodded to let Grace know she heard the question, but couldn’t answer. The question distracted her from watching Sariah bend down to touch her husband’s face with gentle fingertips.

  Grace could hear the tarp rustle as it was pulled away from the body. She tried to ignore the sound. She did not want to turn and see again what they had done to her friend. She kept her eyes on LillieBeth.

  LillieBeth managed to find her voice. “It is raining hard enough to give Noah nightmares, but there was a box of manacles in the office.” She held up the metal wrist bracelets and connecting chains. “I had to find the ones where the keys worked in them. I brought four sets that work on the same key, and I have two identical keys.”

  “Four sets?” Grace asked.

  LillieBeth nodded. “I figured it was better to have enough manacles when we needed them than need manacles and not have them.”

  “Is that just like your guns?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Grissom, it is exactly like the guns. It seems silly to go all the way out to Abe Braunawall’s campsite, arrest him and not have something to bind him and McDonald.”

  Grace smiled. “I didn’t think of that. That’s one set for Braunawall, one set for McDonald and one set for Taradittles. What’s the other set for?”

  “It is an incase.”

  “What is an ‘incase’?” Grace asked.

  “Daddy says to have a spare when you can get one, just in case you need one. I have five beans in the wheel.” She touched the revolver in her shoulder holster. “I keep one chamber empty for safety. Then, I have a whole box of cartridges in my saddlebags just in case I need them.”

  Grace said, “You keep your hog leg trained on Taradittles while I put these irons on him.” She chained his hands in front of his body, instead of behind like Clayton explained to her more than once. The custody was only temporary with their prisoner. She had every intention of letting him go once they had Abe Braunawall in custody.

  LillieBeth handed her one of the keys, putting the other in her own pocket.

  Grace said, “I don’t think Braunawall and McDonald will expect any one coming after them, especially not a couple of women. This rain will make them stay close to their camp. So if we go after them now, we can get to them-”

  “I ain’t going out in this,” Taradittles interrupted.

  Grace looked at him. She reached down and jerked him to his feet by the chain binding his wrist manacles. “You’ll go where I go, or I’ll give you to Mercy and she can send you to visit Old Scratch in his fire factory.”

  LillieBeth said, “I will get our horses saddled and ready to go.” She looked at Taradittles. “Where is your horse?”

  He said, “Down in front of Watkin’s Saloon.”

  Grace tilted her head a bit to the side in thought and looked at the man. “The saloon? Prohibition is already months old. Why is the saloon still open?” She heard Sariah mumbling, but kept her focus on her prisoner.

  Taradittles said, “Oh, nowadays they only serve… um… coffee and tea.”

  Grace said, “You don’t strike me as a tea drinker.”

  “Nope. I like a strong cup of coffee every now and again. So, if you unhook me from these chains, I’ll go down and get my horse. Be right back.”

  She looked at LillieBeth, “Deputy, remind me to check into Watkin’s Saloon soon. If this galoot is any example of their customers, maybe we should see what they’re serving in their coffee.” She spotted a nail stuck high up on a post. She yanked Taradittle’s arms skyward by the chain and hung a chain loop over the nail. Since she was a lot taller than the man, she was sure he couldn’t reach high enough to unhook himself.

  LillieBeth said, “I have a rain slicker in my gear. Daddy made me pack it since it is that time of year. He calls it our fish gear and that seems right on a night like this. I will get us saddled up when I get back.” She pulled a wide brimmed hat from her saddlebags and jammed it on her head. She pulled her fish gear out and put it on buttoning it tight and walked out into the rain.

  Grace doubted the rain gear would keep the girl from getting any wetter. She was already drenched and her long hair still dripped heavy beads of rain. The slicker and the hat might keep her warm against the cold spring downpour though.

  Grace turned to Sariah and Mercy. Sariah was squatting next to her husband’s body. Mercy stood as if she was on guard. She nodded to Mercy, walked over and put a hand on Sariah’s shoulder. Sariah stood and wrapped her arms around Grace.

  Sariah cried, “I tried to image how you felt when your Clayton was murdered. I knew it hurt, but I didn’t know it’d hurt this bad.”

  Grace could not think of anything to say. She had heard it all in the last few days: how Clayton was with God now, how he was in a better place, how time heals all wounds and even one well meaning soul who told her that at least she was still young enough to catch another husband. It was all very well intentioned, but nothing eased the pain.

  Sariah said, “I loved my Odie, you know.”

  “Of course, you did,” Grace said.

  Sariah said, “You don’t understand. I didn’t always love him. My pa and Odie’s pa worked our marriage out between them. I never met my Odie until the day we jumped the broom together. But he taught me to love him.”

  “He was an easy man to love. I hope you know Odie was my friend and I hope you’ll be my friend too.”

  Mercy snorted.

  Grace asked “What?”

  Mercy said, “No disrespect, Mrs. Grissom, but white folks can’t be friends with blacks. We just don’t mix that way.”

  “I know you’re wrong, Mercy. I know Odie was my friend and I’ll prove to Sariah that I can be her friend too.”

  Mercy shook her head. “You might be friendly, but when push comes to shove and you’ll side with a white first, just like you’re siding with that man in irons over me.”

  Grace watched LillieBeth lead three horses into the barn, the girl must have brought every horse she found in front of the saloon. She turned to Mercy, “I’m not choosing him over you. I don’t plan on being friends with either of you. I’m choosing him right now because I need him. I don’t need you, but Sariah and her boys do.”

  Mercy said, “Fair enough.”

  Grace said, “Sariah, will it be okay to move Odie? We can put him in your wagon for now, just to get him up off the stable floor.”

  Sariah nodded. “Please, I want my boys to see their daddy for the last time, but not laying here in the dirt. If we get him up in the wagon we can get him cleaned up some…” Her voice faded away.

  Mercy said, “I have a real nice bed comforter we can wrap him in before we put him in the ground. It’ll be much nicer than some old pine box. Th
en when the rain lets up we can lay him to rest back by that picnic spot we used last Tuesday.”

  Sariah nodded and reached down to pick up Odie, but Grace slipped her arms under the big man and carried him to the wagon. She patted him on the cheek and left him to Sariah and Mercy.

  She turned and saw LillieBeth standing next to Taradittles, deliberately dripping and shaking water on him. “Which horse is yours?”

  “What’re you getting me wet for?” the man shouted.

  LillieBeth said, “It only seems fair for any man who would leave his horse in the rain like this, to get a little of what his horse was standing in.”

  He shouted, “Stop shaking water on me. It weren’t my fault. It weren’t raining when you first pointed your gun at me.”

  Grace said, “He has a point, LillieBeth.”

  LillieBeth said, “No, he does not. He should have brought his horse in here because any idiot knows that if you do not like the Missouri weather, you just wait for a few minutes and it will change. Spring storms jump up faster than a frog on a skeeter. That does not mention that he left his horse standing hock deep in mud.”

  Taradittles said, “I wouldn’t even bring that old crow bait I ride into a stable run by a black man.”

  LillieBeth said, “Yes, I heard Mr. Washington say the Braunawalls and their ilk thought a black man would ruin a horse. I can tell you this, those rib pokers you call spurs will ruin a good horse a lot faster than Odie Washington ever would. So which is your horse?”

  Taradittles tried to point at one of the three horses. With his arms over his head and manacles on his wrists, all he could do was point in the horse’s general direction with a free finger, but it was enough to identify his mount.

  LillieBeth stripped the saddles and blankets off the other two horses and put them in an empty stall. She set the blankets and the saddles on the rails to let them dry, although with the rain and humidity, they were likely to stay damp for quite some time.

  Despite the rain, there were quite a few empty stalls. Grace assumed the barn was almost empty because it was Monday. She remembered seeing a few horses in the corrals outside. The barn was on higher ground than the corral. The corral was on higher ground than the street. The horses outside would be standing in water if the rain continued for any length of time.

  Grace said, “Sariah. I’m not an expert on children, but if you think your boys would be up to it, they need to bring the horses in the corral up into the barn.”

  LillieBeth said, “I will do that. Saddling our horses can wait a bit. I know I would not want to be doing chores if I lost my Daddy.”

  Grace nodded, “Of course. You bring in the horses and I’ll saddle ours.”

  “Saddle Fletch, please. I would rather ride him in this weather and leave that mare behind for now. We can pick her up later.”

  It wasn’t long before they were ready to travel. She released one of Taradittle’s hands from the manacles. She attached the loose end to the saddle through the gullet, the small gap between the saddle horn and the seat.

  She wrapped her rain gear around her shoulders. LillieBeth’s fish gear was more of a slicker, while hers was a large oversized poncho. The Mexican style fit more comfortably over her large frame than any other.

  She climbed up on Jezebel in the barn. She knew she would have a lot of ducking to fit through the barn door, but it would be dryer than climbing up on a wet saddle in the rain. LillieBeth followed suit. She was riding Fletcher and leaving the mare in a stall.

  Trixie brought in the two Washington boys. They hugged their mother and cried. Sariah shivered with tears streaming down her face, her grief renewed and amplified by her son’s tears. Even the hard-edged Mercy wiped tears from her eyes.

  Sariah looked up at Grace. “What do I do without my Odie, Mrs. Grissom? Where do I go? How do I feed my children?”

  Grace looked down from her great height on her giant Belgian mare. She knew what Sariah was feeling. She felt the same emotions without the driving need to feed children. She knew children would make a big difference, but she knew about being lost and not knowing where to turn.

  Grace said, “I’m not sure yet, Mrs. Washington. First, you take care of Odie. Mercy and Trixie can help you with that?” It was more of a question than a statement.

  Both of the black women from Samson’s nodded. Mercy said, “I don’t need some white woman telling me my obligations. I’ll be here.”

  Grace bit back a retort. Emotions were too high to continue arguing with the prostitute. “Take care of the horses under your care. Make sure they’re fed and watered. Your oldest son should know how much Odie charged.” She looked at the young boy. “Can you collect any money when someone comes by to get their horse?”

  The boy nodded. He seemed to grow taller with the responsibility.

  Grace said, “I am going after the men that did this. I will bring them back to justice. We’ll work something out for you and your sons then.” She turned and rode Jezebel out into the rain where no one would see her own tears in the dark night. The lie made a hard lump in her throat. Justice was coming to Abe Braunawall for his part in Clayton’s death. However, the only thing Bobby John McDonald might be found guilty of in a Missouri courtroom would be for helping Abe escape from the city jail. Reflecting on that, she knew she couldn’t prove he helped Abe escape or if her arrest of Abe was even legal since she was not the sheriff at the time of the arrest.

  MONDAY - NIGHT

  Taradittles reined his horse to a stop, letting Jezebel and Grace move next to him. With his free hand, he pointed in the darkness. Looking carefully, she could see a flicker of light from a campfire painting the roof of a canvas shelter.

  He whispered to her. “That there’s where they are. Now, unlock these chains and let me go.”

  Grace said, “Not yet. Soon.”

  Taradittles swore an oath. He shouted, “Watch out! The law’s here.”

  A shot rang out. A bullet whizzed by Grace, cutting through the leaves. It slammed into a tree with a whack she could hear through the drenching rain. Jezebel shied sideways at the noise. She had to grab the saddle horn to remain on the horse.

  LillieBeth whipped her Winchester up from the saddle. She swung it with full force against the back of Taradittles head. The unexpected blow knocked the man from his horse. He hung unconscious from one manacled hand, his horse stood unmoving as if any release from the weight on its back was a relief from all effort. She snapped the rifle to her shoulder, flicked off the safety and levered a cartridge into the chamber in a smooth motion that looked as practiced as it was. She fired four quick shots into the camp.

  Jezebel shied a bit farther with each shot. Grace hung on tightly. She could see LillieBeth’s horse Fletch actually take a step forward with each shot as if he was anxious to get into the fray. There weren’t any return shots from the campsite; LillieBeth reined Fletch to the left, circling around to the side. Grace wanted to call her back, but she didn’t know why. Her prisoner was hanging quietly from his horse. She drew Clayton’s Colt Peacemaker from her pocket.

  She chided herself; it was too little and too late. The gunshot from the camp had scared her as much as it startled her horse. LillieBeth had not hesitated, but bolted into action. Grace urged Jezebel to move forward at a walk. She wanted to charge forward, to rush in as fast as LillieBeth was rushing around the side, but she held to a slow pace. Her eyes were as wide as she could open them, staring into the darkness, seeking any shape other than wet trees, wet bushes, and more rain. She could see the fire out the corner of her eye, but deliberately did not look at it as it would ruin whatever poor night vision she had.

  She heard a crashing through the brush to her right; there was a sound of horses running. She pointed Clayton’s gun in the direction of the noise, but she did not even put her finger on the trigger. She would not shoot LillieBeth by accident in the dark, even if it meant she might be shot herself.

  She reached the edge of a small clearing in time to see Li
llieBeth crash through the under bush into the same open space. Grace whipped her Peacemaker around, but the clearing was empty. The sound of running horses drummed wetly somewhere off to the right.

  LillieBeth stood in her stirrups and sent another four shots after the running figures. It was obvious that she did not have a target in mind. She started to urge Fletch forward, but Grace stopped her.

  “We shouldn’t go racing off into the darkness.”

  “But-”

  “No,” Grace interrupted. “It’ll only be a few hours until daylight. We need the rest even if the horses don’t. Running full tilt through these trees in the dark is a good way to kill our horses and break our necks.”

  “What if Braunawall circles back around?”

  Grace said, “Would you come back here if you didn’t know who attacked you in the middle of the night? He doesn’t know how many of us there are. You fired enough shots at him that he probably thinks there’s an army after him.”

  LillieBeth nodded. “He cannot go so far that I will not find him.” She rode Fletch back into the darkness and quickly returned leading Taradittles’ horse.

  The man was groggy and hopped along, yanked forward with each step of the horse as he still had one arm chained to the saddle. He was moaning and muttering under his breath.

  Grace was glad LillieBeth had not killed the man. She might have shot him if she had kept her wits about her, but she had not. It was not one bit less than the man deserved. She wanted to shoot him now, but she was still shaking. No one had ever shot at her before and truth be told, it was quite unnerving.

  LillieBeth said, “You are shaking Mrs. Grissom. You are cold and wet, go sit by the fire for a bit. I will take care of Fletch and Jezebel.”

  Grace said, “I’m all right. I’ll bring Taradittles in out of the rain.”

  “Let him hang for a while. You go dry off some and warm up.” The young woman’s voice left no doubt she was not offering a suggestion, but issuing a command.

  Grace ducked her head and stepped under the canvas shelter. It wasn’t a tent, just a large canvas square hung up on long poles over the fire pit. It was obvious the Braunawalls and others had used this as a campsite more than once. The fire pit was deep enough to prevent wind spreading ashes and flames beyond the pit. It was lined with rough rock collected from the surrounding area. It was the flame reflecting off the rocks and the overhead canvas she had seen in the dark and not the flames themselves.