A Man for Temperance (Wagon Wheel) (6 page)

“What was the sentence?”

“Ten years.”

“It’s so unfair.”

“Justice isn’t always done in this world, but I’ve been talking to Marshal Meek. He says as soon as it cools down, he can get Brennan a new trial. In the meanwhile he’s going to talk to the witnesses and threaten them if they don’t tell the truth for the next time.”

“Does he really think there’s hope?”

“So he says.”

“I’m sorry for it,” Temperance said.

“So am I. Prison is a bad thing for any man.” As he turned to leave, he said, “I’m still looking for somebody to take the children back East.”

* * *

AS USUAL, BY THE time Temperance got into bed, she was exhausted. She went to sleep almost at once, but then in a manner very unlike her usual habit, she suddenly awoke. It was as if someone had spoken in her ear. The immediacy of it frightened her, and she lay very still, thinking at first that someone was breaking into the house.

The house was silent, however, and she heard nothing, then finally, as her custom was, she began to pray. She had gone to bed thinking about the problem of getting the children to their families, and now she began to argue with God.
God, do You
really want me to take Timmy and the rest of these children back
East? You know I couldn’t do it alone.

For a long time she prayed, but nothing came from heaven. Not a voice, not a thought, not an impulse. She didn’t want to wake the children, but she prayed fervently, whispering in a passionate way.

She was bending down to pull the covers up when suddenly a thought pushed its way into her mind.

There was no other way to describe it. The thought actually pushed its way in! It was as if she were in a room and the door had opened and a stranger had come in and placed himself
before her. She fell silent and waited for the thought to leave, but it persisted.

For twenty minutes she struggled, and finally she remembered how Jacob had struggled all night long with an angel. She remembered, too, that the Bible said Jacob struggled so hard he was injured in the wrestling match.

The struggle was fierce though not physical; and, finally, by the time dawn began to lighten the line of hills in the east, she knew she had heard from God. Her face was marred with tears, and she said,
God, I don’t understand any of this, but I’m
going to do my best to obey You no matter how foolish people think
it might be.

* * *

BRENNAN LOOKED UP FROM where he was lying on his cot. He had not slept at all the previous night, for thoughts of prison weighed heavily on him. He heard Benny saying something but paid little attention, but when Temperance spoke to him, he slowly got to his feet and walked over to look down at her. “What do you want?” He saw that her face was pale and that her hands were not steady, so unsteady in fact that she laced them together to keep them still.

“I’ve come to ask you something.”

“What would you have to ask me?”

Taking a deep breath, Temperance looked him in the eye. Even in his misery, he was aware of something, not for the first time: She was not beautiful, but she had a great deal of vitality and imagination—although she kept those qualities under restraint. He knew she was a strong woman, and suddenly it
occurred to him that she was capable enough to draw a gun, shoot a man, and not go to pieces afterward. She had, in fact, the courage and simplicity of action that, at this moment, seemed nearly primitive. “What do you want?”

“What would you give,” Temperance asked, keeping her voice steady, “to get out of this place?”

“You mean to escape?”

“Yes.”

“Just about anything.”

Temperance clasped the bars and put her face close to them. Her voice was driving and insistent, and he saw her earnestness. “If I get you out of here, will you take me and the children back East?”

Brennan blinked with surprise and then snorted, “Are you crazy, Peabody? You can’t break me out of the jail.”

“Yes, I can. I’ve got a plan.”

“I don’t know what it is, but it’ll never work.”

“But if it could work, what would you do?”

“To stay out of the pen? I’d do anything.”

“I think you’re a man without honor.” She reached into her reticule and drew a thick, black Bible out. “Will you put your hand on the Bible and swear to me that you won’t leave me and the children? That you’ll get us over the trail somehow?”

Brennan shook his head. “That Bible don’t mean anything to me, but I’ll give you my word. As far as I know, I haven’t broke it since I’ve been grown.”

“Put your hand on the Bible and swear.”

Brennan put his hand out. “What do you want me to say?”

“In your own words promise me, on your soul, that you’ll get us back if you can.”

“I promise you that I’ll get you back East and the kids, too, if it kills me doing it.”

The two stood looking at each other, and somehow both knew they had stepped over some kind of a line. They could never be the same toward each other as they had been before. Taking a deep breath, Temperance nodded. She put the Bible back in her reticule and asked, “Does Benny sleep here?”

“Yeah, but he’s got a gun. He sometimes gets the idea that he’s tough, and he’d shoot you if you tried to bust me out.”

“I know that. You just be ready to go sometime before midnight.”

“I think you’ve lost your mind, Peabody. This ain’t never gonna work.”

“Yes, it will, Thaddeus. God will get you out of here, and we’ll get these children to their people!”

TEMPERANCE TOOK THE GOLDEN brown chicken out of the grease, laid it on the towel, and let it drain. She looked out the window and saw with satisfaction that there was only a thin sliver of a moon. It looked like a tiny shell that had been washed by the tide as it hung over the sky.

A glance at her clock showed her that it was past ten o’clock, which meant she would get into town about eleven—exactly what she planned. Turning her attention to the chicken, she put it into a basket on top of a white covering and then put the smaller basket into a larger one. She added a jar full of potato salad and carefully stacked biscuits wrapped in napkins.

Going to the lower cabinet, she pulled out the jar of hard cider she seldom used. It was as potent as any liquor and had a delicious taste. Her father had taught her to make it back in Maine, and she kept a milder form of it for use at the table. But this had the kick of a mule. She removed the lid from a quart jar, filled it half-full of the cider, then set the jug down. Reaching on the top shelf of the cabinet, she pulled out a large brown bottle holding a pint of liquid. This was laudanum, the potent drug used by all frontier people for killing pain. Carefully she added three more spoonfuls, but then stared uncertainly at it. She didn’t want to kill the man, but she did want him rendered unconscious. Satisfied that she had added enough of the drug,
she capped the bottle, put it back, then added the spiked cider to the large basket. She closed the lid and took it outside to the wagon. She had already made pallets in the back for the children for she would have to take them with her.

Going back inside, she went into the bedroom and leaned over saying, “Rose—Rose, wake up.”

Rose woke up and opened her eyes sleepily. “What is it, Temperance?”

“We’ve got to go to town.”

“Is it daytime?”

“No, it’s night, but we’ve got to go. Can you get Billy dressed while I get the baby ready?”

“Yes.”

“It’s still a little cool out, so wear something warm.”

Fifteen minutes later Temperance shut the door and walked quickly to the wagon. Timmy was protesting slightly but went right to sleep under the warmth of the covers she wrapped around him. She put him down on the floorboard in a box she used whenever she took him to town and then reached down and picked up Billy. Rose scrambled to the seat and pulled Billy over beside her.

“Why we going to town, Temperance?”

“There’s something I have to do there. Why don’t you get on the pallet? You can go back to sleep.”

“I think I will. Come on, Billy.”

Temperance watched the two crawl under the blankets and cover up. Then she spoke to the team. The two horses stepped forward, no doubt wondering where they were going at such an unusual hour. As they left the yard, a coon looking like a bandit with its black mask came cautiously down from the pecan tree in the front yard and watched the wagon as it left.

* * *

THE STREETS OF WALLA WALLA were dark as Temperance drove into town—which was what she had hoped. She had not been to town this late at night before, and as she drove the team down the street, she could hear the tinkling sound of a piano coming from one of the saloons and the off-key voice of a woman trying to sing. She pulled the team down to a walk, hoping that no one would notice.

No one came out of the saloon. As she glanced in the window, she saw that a man and a woman were dancing, and she wondered what it was like to go into a saloon and drink whiskey. It would be something as foreign to her experience as going to the moon.

She stopped the wagon on a deserted street before she got in front of the jail and glanced down to see that Timmy was sleeping soundly. Another look showed her that both Rose and Billy were asleep. Breathing a prayer of thanks, she stepped out of the wagon, picked up the basket, and went to the door. She knocked gently, and there was no answer. From inside the jail there was no sound and only the faint light of a lamp.

She knocked louder and finally heard someone speak.

“What do you want?”

“Is that you, Benny?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” The door opened, and Benny stood before her, blinking owlishly. “Why, Miss Peabody, it’s you.”

“May I come in, Benny?”

“Why, shore you can. Come on in.” Benny stepped back. “Whut you doing out this time of the night?”

“Oh, I had to make a late visit. I had some food to take to a family, but it didn’t work out. I thought I might leave it
for Brennan.” She paused and smiled. “Unless you’d like some. I don’t guess you’re hungry this time of the night.”

Everyone, including Temperance, knew that the jailer’s appetite was a natural calamity. The rumor was that he had a tapeworm or a disease, for he would still be eating when everyone else was pushing back from the table.

“I made up way too much fried chicken and potato salad and fresh biscuits. Would you like some, even though it’s late?”

“I shore would, ma’am!”

She handed him the basket and said, “I didn’t know if you were a drinking man or not, but I brought some cider my daddy taught me how to make back in Maine.”

“Why, nothing I like better than good homemade cider!”

“You be careful now. It’s pretty strong stuff.”

Benny laughed. “Stronger the better I say. Here, you set yourself down and eat with me.”

“Well, I believe I will have a bite.”

Benny quickly cleared off the desk, and Temperance began to unload the basket. “You go ahead and start,” she said. “You have some glasses we can put this cider in?”

“Shore do.” Benny eagerly found two mismatched glasses and sat down. At once he began eating the chicken, and Temperance sat down and began to eat rather daintily. She was not hungry, but she was pleased to see that Benny washed the chicken down with huge swallows of the cider.

“This cider is good. Got kind of a different taste to it.”

“It was my father’s secret remedy. You better be careful or you can get too much of that and—”

“Can’t get too much of a good thing, I always say.”

Temperance was highly nervous; she had no idea who might come in the door at any minute. She could still hear the tinny
sound of the piano, but she saw with satisfaction that Benny had drunk at least half of the quart of cider. She herself pretended to drink out of a glass but merely sipped at it. It made her shudder as the tiny swallow hit her stomach. She could not imagine what it was doing to the jailer’s! She felt bad about this, but she had been unable to think of any other way to do what God was leading her to do.

Benny was slowing down. His speech was becoming slurred. He was digging at the potato salad with a spoon and his eyelids drooped as he said, “Best . . . meal . . .” He tried to finish the sentence and said, “Don’t know what’s . . . the matter. Doggone . . . I’m sleepy!”

“You probably missed a lot of sleep, Benny.”

Suddenly she heard Timmy crying out in the wagon. “Oh, there’s the baby crying. You go ahead and finish. I’ll go get him and bring him in.”

“Can’t hardly . . .”

Quickly Temperance ran out and lifted Timmy from the box. Turning, she went back inside, and when she stepped through the door, she saw with a mixture of relief and fear that Benny was slumped in the chair, his head back and his mouth open. She was afraid she may have killed him, but when she got closer, she saw the rise and fall of his chest, and he was muttering something in his sleep.

Holding Timmy with one arm, she plucked the key off from one nail. She had seen Benny do the same thing on a previous visit. Opening the door, she stepped inside the corridor. It was so dark she could hardly see, but a candle burning at one end threw its pale, feeble light.

“Brennan, are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve got the key here.” She had trouble fitting the key in as dark as it was and trying to hold the baby with one hand. Finally she found the keyhole and turned the key. To her relief the door swung open at once.

“What did you do to Benny, stab him?”

“No, I fed him drugged liquor. Come on. We’ve got to get out of here. Somebody could come at any minute.”

The two stepped back into the office, and Brennan took one look at Benny. He leaned over and said, “He’s dead drunk.”

“We’d better take all this back. We don’t want to leave any of the food or my basket. Somebody might recognize it.”

They gathered everything together, and she reached down into the bottom of the basket. “Here’s an empty whiskey bottle. I thought we’d leave it. They’ll think he drank himself into a drunken state.”

Brennan was moving around behind the desk. He opened the lower drawer and pulled out his gun belt. He checked the loads and strapped it on.

“We’ve got to leave,” Temperance said.

“You go on back to the house.”

She stared at him. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

“I’m not leaving without Judas. That’s the best horse I’ve ever had. Besides, if he’s gone, they’ll think I’ve taken off for the coast or else back over the trail.”

“How will they think you got out?”

“Benny came back and played checkers and practiced his guitar in my cell. Everybody knew that.” He stared at her and shook his head. “I didn’t think you could do it. I’ve got to hide for a few days. You sure you want to do this, Temperance?”

“Yes. God told me so.”

“All right. You go on home. I’ll come in later and we’ll figure out how to do it.”

* * *

TEMPERANCE LOOKED UP, AND when she saw Marshal Joe Meek coming on his iron gray stallion, fear touched her. She covered it quickly, however, and when he stopped, she smiled and said, “Why, Marshal Meek, what are you doing out so early this morning?”

Meek was disturbed, she could see. His face was trapped in a scowl. “I’m out chasing a man.”

“I’ve got something to eat if you’re hungry.”

“I’m so hungry I could eat a skunk.”

“Come on in,” Temperance said. She led him inside the house, and he glanced over to where Timmy was lying in his box and on the other side of the room Rose and Billy were playing with the blocks. “You still got the younguns.”

“Yes, I have. Here, sit down.” She put out meat, a huge cut of roast, potatoes, and fresh bread and filled his coffee cup. He looked at her oddly and said, “You hear about Brennan?”

“What about him? The last I heard he was in jail.”

“He broke out last night.”

“Broke out!” She managed to assume an astonished look. “How could he do that?”

Meek shrugged. There was a look of disgust as he took a big bite of the pork roast. “Benny ain’t much. He got drunk, and he was always careless about leaving the cell doors open.” He chewed thoughtfully and said, “He had a terrible hangover this morning. He thought you was at the jail last night.”

“Me? Why would I be there? I have three children to take care of.”

Meek drank a huge draft of coffee. “Well, Benny was pretty drunk. I thought you might have been there earlier to visit.”

“In the middle of the night?”

Meek looked embarrassed and finished his meal. Finally he said, “I had to let Benny go. Now I got to run Brennan down. I want to look at the room he stayed in, Miss Peabody.”

“Why, of course, Marshal. It’s out in the barn. I can’t go with you for I can’t leave the children.”

“I’ll find it.”

“It’s right in the back.”

Temperance went over and picked up Timmy, walking the floor to conceal her nervousness. She sang a little song to him, but Meek was back almost at once. “Nothing in there to tell where he might have gone. He didn’t have much.”

“No, he didn’t.”

Meek grabbed his hat and jammed it on his head. “I’m thinking he took off for Portland, hoping to get a ship out. That’s where a lot of fugitives run to. Thanks for the meal, Miss Temperance.”

“You’re welcome, Marshal.” Temperance watched the big man mount his horse and leave at a dead run. She should have felt easy, but she did not. She had expected Brennan to come in last night after she had gotten him out of jail, but he had not appeared, and now it was getting late in the afternoon. Doubt took her, but she said aloud, “He swore he would help me. I’ve got to believe it!”

* * *

A THIN SLICE OF the moon was high in the sky, and Temperance watched as a small cloud drifted toward it. She tried to guess
whether it would hit or miss the moon. Finally it missed the moon, and the silver crescent seemed to shine even brighter.

“Well, I’m back.”

Temperance gave a huge start for she had not heard a sound. She jumped out of the chair and saw Brennan standing beside her on the porch. Her heart was beating fast, and she said, “I didn’t hear you.”

“You weren’t supposed to. I need something to eat.”

“I’ve left stuff to warm on the stove. Come inside.” She led him inside and he sat at the table. She took the coffeepot off and watched him as he drank two cups while she heated the food. She put part of the pot roast on the table, the same Meek had shared, and she mentioned that to him. “Marshal Meek was by here looking for you.”