by Easy Jackson
Nab concurred it would be too hard on the horses to ride the rails all the way to Texas without a break. She wasn’t thrilled about her grandsons being gone so long either, so she agreed they could turn the horses over to Hawkshaw in Mobile.
“Granny,” Floyd said, giving Tennie another surprise because he rarely spoke. “Can Rusty go with us?”
Rusty gave a start. “Please, Miss Tennie?” he begged.
They were all looking at her, waiting for her to decide. Confused, Tennie tried to think. Lucas tugged on her arm, his face looking up into hers, begging to go along, too.
“You’re not going,” She told Lucas. At least, she knew that much.
Floyd and Virgil probably just wanted someone to help them shovel horse droppings out of the boxcar, but she knew Rusty probably realized that and didn’t care. But what about the man who’d tried to throw her in a brothel when she was on her own? Hadn’t Ozzie Milton made disturbing comments about liking little boys? What if someone like that tried to hurt Rusty? He was only thirteen, but there were fourteen-year-old boys in Texas after the war leading long cattle drives to market.
She rubbed her forehead, not knowing what to say. What would Ashton Granger want his boy to do? What would Wash advise? Three teenage boys loose in Mobile could get into a lot of trouble.
“I’ll pay Rusty to ride with Floyd,” Hawkshaw said. “No need in three of them going.”
Tennie looked at Hawkshaw. Floyd was the one with all the horse sense, and Hawkshaw probably had more trust in Rusty than he did Virgil.
Nab nodded. “Floyd can teach Rusty the ropes.”
Tennie sighed and looked at Rusty. “Stay with the horses and out of the saloons.”
“Thank you, Miss Tennie,” he said, his face alight with pleasure. “Thank you, thank you.”
“It means you’ll miss seeing a large old Southern plantation,” she said, trying to make curious little Lucas feel better.
“That’s okay. I don’t care,” Rusty assured her.
Virgil wasn’t too happy. “Heck fire, Granny. I wanted to ride the train to Texas.”
“When you get full-growed, you can go to Texas to visit your Uncle Gid,” Nab said.
Tennie saw a funny look cross Hawkshaw’s face, and she tried not to laugh. The thought of more Coltranes in Texas was too much for him. She hoped he never ran across the ill-tempered Grandpa Dings.
As she turned to go back to the house, she heard Hawkshaw say to Rusty, “I guess this will go a little way toward the balance I owe you.”
“What?” Rusty asked, bewildered. “Oh, yes, sir. It sure will.”
At the supper table that night, Hawkshaw asked Nab how easy it was to get a stock car.
“Sometimes takes a few days,” Nab said. “Generally, they keep one a-resting nearby. They know I won’t use no car ’cepting it’s ventilated.”
Because of the possibility Gid’s truculent brothers might still be in the vicinity, Gid was elected to stay at the farm while Hawkshaw, Rusty, and Floyd would drive the horses into town where they would await a stock car. Lucas heard and began raising a fuss, wanting all of them to go into town so he wouldn’t be left out of the excitement.
“No,” Hawkshaw said, cutting it short. “The less time your stepmother spends at the judge’s house, the better off her reputation will be.”
Gid’s mouth dropped, and he stared, aghast. “Ain’t nobody gonna say nothing like that. He’s an old man. Why, he’s the judge!”
Tennie spoke up. “It’s okay, Mr. Gid. I’d rather stay here with Miss Nab and let the little ones get their fill of the country for a while. They’ll be cooped up on a train soon enough.”
* * *
Early the next morning, Nab readied the horses for travel, braiding their tails and doing them up in burlap. She was sending along enough hardtack and jerky for the boys to survive six months on a train, but Tennie made sure Rusty had some money.
“I’d like to buy a harmonica, if that’s all right with you, Miss Tennie,” Rusty said. “I haven’t forgotten my promise to help with the stable fees for Apache when we get back to Waco.”
Tennie nodded, thinking it a good idea. If he had a harmonica up to his lips, maybe there wouldn’t be room for a whiskey bottle.
When Hawkshaw, Rusty, and Floyd rode out with the horses, Lucas choked up, and Badger let a few tears flow. Neither had ever spent a night away from Rusty. Nab told her remaining grandsons to take them swimming in the creek. Lucas and Badger wanted to show off their bagre skills, but the water ran too fast and shallow for them to be successful.
That afternoon, the men waiting to buy horses returned, sent by Hawkshaw, and Nab’s time was taken up with dickering once again.
Hawkshaw stayed gone three days.
In the meantime, Tennie enjoyed visiting with the men who came to buy horses and ended up staying the night. When Nab told them of Tennie’s quest to change the mind of Raiford Beauregard, they shook their heads and wished her good luck.
Later, Tennie tried to help Gid explain to Nab about the taxes. He couldn’t remember all the details, and asked Tennie to go over them.
“The farm is in Mr. Gid’s name,” Tennie said. “From now on the bill for the taxes will go to him in Texas, and he will pay them. The judge convinced him to make a will, leaving the farm to you if he passes away first. If you pass before he does, the farm would then go to your grandsons after Mr. Gid died, with the provision that none of them can sell any part of it unless the other three agree.”
Nab, who thought somebody’s word ought to be good enough, didn’t like the idea of the government interfering and all the paperwork involved but said she thought the part about not breaking up the farm was wise.
“Mr. Gid may want a few horses from you now and then to offset the cost of the taxes,” Tennie said.
“Gid knows he can have any horse on this place any time he wants,” Nab said. “He don’t need to pay no taxes for that.”
Tennie smiled. However, the thought of facing Hawkshaw when the time came, and later Raiford Beauregard, and the evidently jealous and conniving Maribel, ate at Tennie until she felt almost ill. She walked around praying so hard, she ironed a pair of Badger’s overalls twice before she realized what she had done. Finally recognizing she could not count on Hawkshaw’s cooperation, she accepted she would just have to find some other way if he refused to help her.
* * *
When Hawkshaw returned, he was pleased with the stock car and Floyd’s knowledge of horses. At least, they all figured he was happy because he didn’t look to be in a foul mood, and he said the railroad delivered the right stock car, and Rusty was learning. He slept in the barn again, and neither he nor Gid were in a hurry to leave the next morning. It was afternoon when they finally said good-bye to Nab.
Badger started sobbing. Tennie wanted to cry.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Nab, for being so hospitable to us?” she asked. “Anything at all?”
Nab looked at Gid who was waiting by the wagon. “You look after Gid there in Texas. If he was to get down sick, he don’t have nobody a-tall to look after him.”
“I will. I promise to do the best I can for him.” Tennie looked at her two unlikely friends. “I would have anyway, even without you asking.”
Gid and Nab weren’t demonstrative.
Gid got on his horse and said, “I’ll be seeing you, Nab.”
All Nab did was nod in return. As they left, she threw a handful of dirt behind them. Gid said it was to confuse any evil spirits about the direction they were headed. But she stood watching them ride away until they were out of sight.
The old neighbor with the hat full of shotgun holes came out onto the porch as they rode by. “Heading back to Texas, Gid?”
“Yes, sir, that’d be right,” Gid said.
“Takin’ the law back with ya?”
Gid nodded. “But I hear of any more varmints disturbing Nab, me and the Texas law is coming right back here. Kin varmints or th
e other kind.”
Tennie shot a look at Hawkshaw and tried to smother a smile. He wasn’t even looking in Gid’s direction. His eyes were scanning the bushes and the trees around them, ready to strike if evil spirits in the form of Gid’s sullen brothers reared their ugly heads.
They made it back to town without incident, however, taking the wagon and horses back to the livery. Gid said he would walk with Tennie to the judge’s house, but Tennie wanted to stop by the courthouse first to see if it was still all right for her and the two remaining boys to spend the night.
As she waited for Gid to finish his livery business, Tennie walked down the street a slight distance. Someone caught her eye, a slender man with his back turned. He had his pants tucked into high boots, and he wore a large Stetson. Her heart leapt into her throat. Wash!
CHAPTER 18
Tennie began to run toward him, but when he turned around, she saw it was not Wash, but someone who looked nothing like him in the face.
She stopped almost in midair, embarrassed. He was understandably staring at her, so she gave him a brief smile of apology without looking directly into his eyes and turned back to the livery. Tears flooded her lashes and splashed down her cheek. She had no idea until that moment how much she had been hoping in the depths of her heart Wash would join her. She wiped her tears away so the others would not see she had been crying.
They said nothing about her appearance and began walking to the courthouse with her.
“I hope we can get this business with your cousin settled quickly, Mr. Gid.”
He gave a heavy sigh, and Tennie realized he was dreading dealing with the Beauregards as much, if not more, than she was. She changed the subject and asked if he thought Hawkshaw was happy with the horses he had chosen.
By the time they reached the courthouse, Gid had everyone from all over the state of Texas flocking to Hawkshaw in droves to buy a colt from one of Nab’s horses. He only stopped when they found the judge in his chambers.
He rose to greet them. “My dear”—the judge took her by the shoulders—“you look exhausted. Why don’t you leave Lucas here with me and let me show him around? I’m sure Gid and young Badger will escort you to the house and find something else to do for a while so you can get some rest.”
Tennie looked at Gid and he nodded.
Lucas said, “Please, Miss Tennie.”
“All right.” She smiled. “I do feel a little peaked.”
The judge patted her shoulder as he followed her out of the office. “I confess I am being entirely selfish. I so enjoyed our visit the last time you were here that I want you vibrant and awake to share another conversation with me.”
“I would like that,” Tennie said with a smile. “I don’t want my chin nodding at the table.”
She wasn’t tired as much as she was heartsick. Viola met them at the door, taking Tennie’s bag from Gid’s hand, which she insisted on carrying. Viola told Gid and Badger to go around to the back porch where she would serve them cookies and cold buttermilk.
After shutting the door, Tennie followed her up the stairs. “The judge told me to rest. He likes to talk and doesn’t want me dropping off in the middle of the conversation.”
“When I thinks he’s said enough,” Viola said. “I’ll fetch you for a bath. You need to be fresh and pert for facing those fractious Beauregards. How was your visit with Miss Nab?”
Tennie thought about Gid making Nab happy by carrying on about the bad food in Texas, even though he ate it with relish. But she didn’t want to say anything negative that would get back to her. “Miss Nab has a kind heart. Of course, she has to give so much time to her animals . . .” Implying the rest, she let her voice drop.
Viola opened the door to the bedroom Tennie had stayed in before, smiling and nodding in satisfaction. “That be right. Miss Nab, she be kind, but nothing get in the way of them critters.”
Tennie removed her hat and placed it on the bed. Viola snatched it up. “Don’t be doing that now. You’ll be bringing bad luck on yourself.” She placed the hat on the dresser. “You lay down now and have a good cry. Get your nerves out now, then tomorrow, they be gone.”
Tennie thanked her as the door shut. Throwing herself on the bed, Tennie followed Viola’s advice. After releasing her tears, she thought it would have been bad luck if she had left her hat on the bed. She could have accidentally wallowed on it in her misery.
* * *
For the most part, her evening with the judge was an enjoyable interlude. He allowed the boys to prattle about their day—seeing the courthouse, following Gid into almost every shop, visiting with the storekeepers in town. Tennie thought she would have liked to visit the shops, too, and decided to ask Gid to escort her if they had time. Whatever time they had left all depended on Gid’s relatives.
The judge entertained her with stories about Rory Coltrane, Nab’s irrepressible husband who had been such an influence on Gid. “He wouldn’t have let Gid get into trouble with the law. It was too bad for all of them when Rory insisted on going to war and died.
“And what about this Hawkshaw fellow?” the judge continued. “What do you know about him?”
“Absolutely nothing except he’s from Kentucky, and evidently, he made someone so mad, he’s banned from going back,” Tennie replied. “I’ve never heard him mention a father, a mother, a sibling, not so much as a dog from his childhood.”
“And the war? Where did his allegiance lie?” the judge asked.
“The North,” Tennie said. “I have no doubt he was a sniper and worked alone. I can’t see him chumming up to other soldiers in a tent.”
Tennie saw a look of intense hatred flicker through the judge’s eyes. He gave a slow blink, and the look disappeared, but she thought it would do well for Hawkshaw to get out of town as soon as possible.
The judge touched her arm and patted her back, but Tennie wasn’t worried with Viola and two boys in the house. She told herself if Lucas and Badger could save her from kidnappers, she didn’t think a little old judge would present too much of a problem.
After they had talked alone in the parlor for some time, and he made an inquisitive comment about the kisses Wash had given her, Viola appeared at the door and announced her bathwater was ready.
Tennie again thanked him for his hospitality and followed Viola into the kitchen.
As she scrubbed, Viola gave more advice. “They is some sorry darkies that works for the Beauregards. Don’t eat nothing. Don’t let nothing touch your lips while you is there. When they get mad, they spits in the food.”
Tennie paused and stared. “Spit in the food?” she repeated.
“That’s right, and when they gets real mad, they liable to do something else that don’t bear talking about.”
Tennie’s lungs expelled a long stream of air. “Okay. I promise I won’t eat a thing.”
“Or drink nothing,” Viola said.
“Or drink anything, not even water,” Tennie agreed.
She went to bed feeling like a character from an Arabian fairy tale who must engage in charming conversation night after night or be killed. Or have to eat food with spit in it.
* * *
Hawkshaw and Gid were waiting for Tennie, Lucas, and Badger in a surrey in front of the judge’s house when they finished breakfast. The plantation would take an hour’s drive. Nevertheless, Viola sent along food and water, taking no chances.
The judge placed a letter of introduction into Tennie’s hand. “Given how Raiford and I feel about one another, it probably won’t do much good, but it might get you in the front door.”
Tennie glanced at Gid, wondering what kind of kinfolk he had who wouldn’t invite him in. She thanked the judge.
“Good luck, my dear,” he said, waving as they left.
Tennie waved good-bye and twisted around in the surrey. Hawkshaw sat up front with the reins, while Gid, Lucas, and Badger occupied the backseat.
“I’ve never ridden in one of these before,” she said, looking a
round and making sure not to crowd Hawkshaw.
It had taken quite a bit of persuading on Gid’s part to make sure Hawkshaw rode in the surrey and not on a horse so he couldn’t ride off without them.
“Aren’t we grand?” she joked.
“Not grand enough,” Hawkshaw said.
“When we get out of town,” Tennie said, “you’d better pull over so we can talk about the plan Viola gave me to get you and Lafayette off the hook.”
Hawkshaw gave her an evil stare. “I’m waiting with bated breath.”
They were on a tree-lined lane that was in surprisingly smooth condition. Hawkshaw took his time, and they passed by several suitable open spots until he found one he liked, beside a large embankment where the woods were the thickest.
“Out with it,” he said, turning to Tennie.
Tennie swallowed and plunged in. “Miss Viola said the first thing to remember is that Mr. Beauregard is desperate to marry his cousin Helen. By all accounts, this Helen is a nice person, and why she wants to marry him, I have no idea. There is no accounting for taste. However, his sister, Maribel, hates her and vows to run off and marry one of their ex-slaves if Mr. Beauregard marries Helen. Miss Viola said she didn’t think any of them would have her, except one or two who hate Mr. Beauregard so bad they might consider it just to get even with him.
“Anyway, until Mr. Beauregard gets rid of Maribel, he can’t have Helen without a scandal.”
“That story differs slightly from Gid’s,” Hawkshaw said, turning to give him a dirty look.
Gid looked embarrassed, shrugged his shoulders, and looked away. “I didn’t want to upset Nab. She said marrying French is what got us Coltranes in trouble in the first place.”
Hawkshaw grunted. “I’ve known men in the South who would have their sister committed to an insane asylum for threatening that.”