The Gatherers by Marla Fair – Chapter six
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Winona was an admirable traveling companion. Charles smiled as he thought back to the trip he had made with Laura the year before, and Isaiah's joke about the man who brought his 'Indian woman' with him because she was a good skinner. A native woman's life was a far cry from a white woman's. At least most of them were. Winona, it seemed, had lived both lives, though – if you asked him – she definitely preferred the wild one she had known as a child. She excelled at tracking and traveling.
He was having a hard time keeping up!
They'd made good time. The ridge known as Avalanche lay before them. It was a high one – higher than the one he'd fallen down and laid on waiting for his child to bring help. True to its name, it was comprised of a solid base with a lot of loose stone. It made him shudder to think of Laura crossing it with only a blind man for help. Every step he took made him appreciate even more the lengths she had gone to in order to save his life.
And the danger he had put her in by asking.
Mother Nature was a tricky thing. There were rules, and, sometimes she adhered to them. Other times, like most women, she did what she wanted. Since he'd last traveled the ridge, there had been changes. Winona explained that the strong storm that had saved her had caused more of the rock to slide, changing the shape of the ridge itself. Laura had passed through before that and it was a good thing. The going was treacherous as rocks and pebbles trickled down the steep sides with each step you took.
The native woman had stopped directly in front of him. Winona scowled as she watched a tiny river of stones run down the side of the ridge. She'd tried to keep him from coming with her, but he wasn't having any of it. He'd promised to see her home and he meant to do what he said. When he explained that he couldn't turn his back and walk away without knowin' she was safe, she'd looked at him like he had a wood noggin and was twice as thick.
"You must take your boots off."
Charles frowned. "What?"
"That way you can feel the rocks shift. Otherwise, you will not know if they are going to run."
Her feet were bare, of course.
"I'm comin' right behind you."
Her hands found her hips. Winona rolled her eyes and let out a sigh.
Lands sakes, she looked like Caroline!
"If you were building a table and you said, 'put your finger here', so something would be held and I said, 'No, I will put it here instead,' what would your answer be?"
"I'd tell you to listen 'cause I know what I'm doing."
Her black eyes locked on his. "Just so."
Charles looked at his feet. "I'll feel funny without my boots."
"You will feel even funnier if you break your neck when you land at the bottom of the ridge."
She had a point.
Charles sat down and pulled off his boots. With one in hand, he looked up and asked her, "Socks too?"
"If you try to pick up a coin, which is easier – with your fingers or with gloves?"
He smiled as he began to tug at the toe of his sock. "How did you get so smart?"
Surprisingly, Winona frowned. She looked off to the east. "My father. He taught me well before we were forced onto the reservation. There were five of us, four brothers and me. He treated me no differently."
"Were?"
"Two brothers died. Now we are three." Winona's black eyes flicked to him and then back to the horizon. "Were three. I do not know where my brothers are."
She was still keeping secrets from him, but that was okay. Once he dropped her off at her grandparents' home, it was unlikely they would meet again. After all, she didn't owe him anything.
Charles rose to his feet. "Ouch!"
Winona laughed. "White men's feet are like a baby's. They keep them bound and protected."
"Not anymore!" the farmer chuckled as he began to move forward.
He sure hoped there were some plasters at her grandparents' house!
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"Pa isn't gonna be back 'til after sundown, Ma."
Her mother started and dropped the ragged curtain that covered the window. "I know that. I was watching the sunset."
Laura had just finished reading Mister Shelby a story. He'd fallen asleep right before the end. She put the book down and walked to the other side of the cabin where her mother stood. It was pretty outside. The later afternoon light, shining through the open window, turned all the leaves to gold – and some of the tree trunks too. Autumn was a beautiful time of year. It was a shame winter had to follow, though she did love sledding and making snow ice cream!
"A fib's a bad way to end the day," she said with a little smile.
Her ma smiled too. "Yes, it is."
"You're worried about Pa."
"I am, and I shouldn't be!" the older woman admitted. "You're pa knows this wilderness like the back of his hand."
"That's how he showed it to me," Laura said, her tone wistful. She made a fist. "Here's where we are," she said, "and here's Avalanche." She advanced another knuckle. "And this is Morgan. That's the one you want."
Her mother closed her hand over her fingers. "I wish you could forget."
"Sometimes I do too," she admitted. But there were other times she was glad she could remember. She'd never take her pa for granted again – or anyone she loved. It only took a second for everything to change.
"How is Mister Shelby doing?" her mother asked.
"He's okay. He said he's breathin' some better now that we got the hot water with the pine needles goin' again." Winona had shown them how to do that before she left with Pa. The whole cabin smelled like a pine forest, which was all right with her. "He fell asleep before I got to the end of the chapter."
"Sleep is the best thing for him," Ma said. "It's God's gift to heal us."
She knew all about that. There was nothing like sleeping at the end of a long day. You could be so dog-tired you couldn't hold your head up and think you were like to die and then, when you woke up in the mornin', it was like you were starting all over again! It was hard when you couldn't sleep, everything seemed wrong, and most of the time you couldn't take your mind off of it. Bad things got bigger and good things seemed to slip away.
It had been that way after her pa was shot.
Ma moved into the kitchen area. She turned and looked at her. "Laura, I could use some more water. Will you go out to the barrel and fetch some, please?"
"Sure thing!" The little girl crossed the cabin and took hold of the bucket that was lodged under a table and headed for the door. She was excited that she was going outside.
Seconds later, Laura was in the yard. The wind had picked up and the leaves were dancing all around the cabin in a wild sort of dervish. She'd seen a dervish once when some Greek people came through Walnut Grove. She sure wished she had one of those pleated white skirts they wore. It would have been fun to spin around in it!
The water barrel was at the end of the cabin, near the porch with the antler horns dripping from the ceiling, so she headed there. Pa had filled it before he left, so she knew there was enough. Laura had just taken the lid off and lifted the bucket when she heard something that made her look up. It took a second for her to see them. Just beyond the animal crib at the end of Mister Shelby's yard there were four horses approaching.
It wasn't Pa or anyone she knew.
Laura started to drop the bucket and run, but realized if they got stuck in the cabin for some reason, they would need the water. So, quick as she could, she filled it, and then made her way back inside.
Once she was in, she closed the door and put the bar in place.
"Laura, what are you doing?" Ma asked.
"Men," she said, breathless. "There are men outside."
Ma came running. "Are you sure?"
She nodded. "Out by the crib. They're riding horses."
Her mother took hold of the curtain and drew it aside. A sharp intake of breath told her Ma had seen the men too.
"Get your father's rifle."
Pa left it with them. He'd taken an old revolver of Mister Shelby's in his pack instead, that he said probably came from the Rebellion. Laura nodded and went to fetch the rifle. She was careful to check that the safety was on before she carried it over to her mother.
"Get behind me," Ma ordered as she went to the door and opened it. "Whoever you are, stop where you are!" her mother called out as she raised it and took sight.
The men halted where they were. They talked for a minute, and then one of them dismounted and headed for the house with his hands held high.
"Laura, go back inside."
"But Ma!"
"Do it now!"
Reluctantly, she did as she was told and left her mother to face whatever was to come.
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Caroline's hands trembled, but they didn't falter as she aimed the gun at the man's chest.
"Who are you and what do you want?" she demanded.
"Good evening, Ma'am." The man tipped his hat. "Is Ben Shelby here?"
She couldn't tell much about him, except he was cool as aspen leaves, and was bundled from head to toe like a city slicker who thought the crisp autumn night was the dead of winter. The stranger's hair was dark and his eyes, light.
"No, Ben isn't here," she replied.
"May I ask who you are?"
"You first," she said and gave the rifle a little jiggle.
"I'm Matt Sparks. I'm with the government."
"So you say."
"I can show you papers." He started to reach into his pocket.
Caroline shifted her grip on the rifle. "Don't bother. Papers can be faked."
The man glanced over his shoulders at his companions, and then back at her. "Is your husband here?"
What did she answer? It wouldn't be wise to let them know that she was here alone with Laura and a sick man.
"He's due back any minute. He went looking for wood."
Mr. Sparks' look told her what he thought – that husbands could be 'faked' too.
"If Ben isn't here, then I need to talk to his father."
"Sam Shelby is ill," she said. "He won't be talking to anyone until he's better."
"And how long will that be?"
"I don't know. A week, maybe." She wasn't lying. Sam was pretty sick.
While they'd talked, another of the men had advanced toward the cabin on his horse. The point of the gun wavered between him and the man closest to her.
"Where's the Indian?" the newcomer asked.
"What Indian?"
"The woman who was lookin' after old man Shelby." This new one was coarse; more of a mountain man than his companion. "The squaw."
"She left," she replied, giving away as little as she could. "We're here to take care of Sam now."
"You and the girl?" Matt Sparks asked.
So, he'd seen Laura. "Yes, and my husband Charles."
The first man stared at her until he made her uncomfortable – not that she hadn't been uncomfortable before. Finally, he nodded.
"All right. We'll come back in a week. May I?" he indicated his pocket.
She nodded. "Slowly."
Sparks drew a paper out of his pocket. "I need you to give this to Mister Shelby."
"Why? What is it?"
"It's a summons. My client has arranged for the circuit judge to hear the case. Mister Shelby needs to be in Sleepy Eye ten days from now or his land if forfeit."
"But Ben is already there!" she said, and then regretted it.
Again, the two men exchanged a look. "The old man's son?"
"Yes, he went there to straighten things out. He has the deed to the land."
Matt Sparks did an unexpected thing, then. He smiled. "Well, then, it may be my work is through. Sorry to have troubled you, Ma'am. I hope you and the little one have a restful night."
She watched as the man returned to his horse. He mounted, said a few words to his companion, and then all of the men rode away.
Caroline let out a big 'whew!' of relief as they did and lowered the rifle.
"Can I come out now, Ma?" Laura asked.
She glanced in the direction the men had gone before nodding.
"What did they want?"
"You know, I'm not really sure," the blonde woman replied, though it was a lie. She was sure they had not come to serve papers, but to intimidate and frighten Ben and Sam. "It doesn't matter now. They've gone."
Caroline put her hand on her child's shoulder and directed her indoors. Before she closed the door, she turned back to make sure the men were nowhere in sight. Then she dropped the bar into place.
At least, she hoped they were gone.
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to be continued….