Dorothy Garlock - [Annie Lash 01] (37 page)

Berry swore. “That bastard! Sweet Jesus, it’s hot in here. Keep a fire under that water. You can throw it on them if they try to bust down the door.” Berry opened the door a crack. There was no sound, no movement.

“Wait a minute,” Rachel whispered. She went to the window, raised it a crack, looked out, then looked back at Berry and nodded.

Berry slipped out the door and closed it behind her. She leaned against it while her eyes adjusted to the darkness before she looked around. After a minute she heard the bar slide into place and knew Rachel was at the window. She edged along the wall until she reached the end of the dogtrot. Cautiously she peered around the corner. She saw nothing. Still she waited, her heart pounding, her eyes on the still figure lying on the ground. After what seemed an eternity of waiting she sped across the intervening space. She reached Simon and fell to her knees.

“Simon . . . darlin’!” She touched his face, his neck. Her hands came away sticky. She let out a shuddering cry. “Oh, my God! Your back is cut to ribbons.” She forced herself to think calmly. “Simon, can you hear me?” she whispered urgently.

His reply was a faint murmur.

Berry put her hands beneath his arms to lift him. She succeeded in raising him an inch or two. He mumbled and grunted with pain. Determined to get him to his feet, she straddled his body in an effort to lift him to a sitting position. She pulled with all her strength . . . and realized, with growing panic, that she was incapable of lifting him.

“Help me, darlin’, please . . . help me.” Then: “Damn you, Simon! Help me. I can’t lift you.” Sobbing, she let him sink back down. “Goddammit! I’m going to get you to the house if I have to drag you!” She positioned herself between his feet, grabbed one in each hand, and pulled. She dug her bare feet into the ground and strained. She pulled him a few inches and paused. Pulled again and paused. She clenched her teeth and strained. Simon’s body twitched and he groaned.

During one of her brief pauses she glanced over her shoulder toward the house. Such a long way to go. She sobbed her frustration and dug into the great wealth of swear words she’d learned from her father.

She heard Rachel’s muted cry from the window at the same instant as she saw the lumbering figure bearing down on her. She grabbed the dirk, turned, and straddled Simon’s body. Linc reached for her and she slashed his arm. A hoarse sound came from his throat and he sprang back. Berry crouched, thinking to push the blade upward. This is it, she thought. Simon and I will die, but before I do, I’ll rip into Linc’s guts! She jabbed the blade into his thigh when he grabbed her hair. He let out a bellow of rage and flung her to the ground. Berry saw his foot lift to stomp her, then a sound like no other she’d ever heard split the silence.

“Zaah . . . aawa . . . haaa!”
The primitive war cry of Israel’s ancestors tore from his throat as his gleaming black body shot from the shadows. With his huge hands he grabbed Linc and lifted him high over his head. He whirled him around faster and faster to gain momentum. A howl of pure terror erupted from Linc seconds before he was slammed against the trunk of the tree with maddening, brute force. There was a sickening sound as his body struck. He lay broken, twisted and lifeless.

Berry jumped to her feet. “Help me!” she cried.

Israel bent over Simon. His shirtless black body gleamed with sweat. He lifted him gently and pulled him up and over his shoulder. They ran to the house. The door opened. They never broke stride until they were inside the cabin, which seemed unusually bright from the firelight and the single candle.

Rachel slammed the door shut and dropped the bar. “Over here,” she directed, and Israel eased Simon off his shoulder and onto the bunk.

“Oh, my God!” Berry whispered in a stricken voice. She could see the blood glistening wetly on Simon’s back, and his pants were wet with it. His face was beaten beyond recognition; blood came from his nose and mouth. She felt her stomach heave, and she shut her eyes, fighting down a surge of nausea. Behind her she heard Rachel suck in her breath at the sight of the mutilation.

“I’m glad Israel killed the brute!” Rachel turned to the black man. He seemed to have taken on a new dignity. His head was high and his eyes as he looked back at her were alert and knowing.

“Thank you, Israel.” Berry went to him and grasped his hand. “You’re a good man. You saw what had to be done and did it. We’ve been through a lot together since we left Ohio. Somehow we’ll get through this, too. I’m so glad you’re here with us.”

“Yass’m, missy.”

“Did you see Fain, Israel?” Rachel choked on the words.

“Yass’m. The gun kill Mistah Fish. Mistah Fain is a-hidin’ in the woods.”

“Oh, thank God!” Rachel’s face crumbled and tears poured down her cheeks.

“Ah was a-lookin’ fo’ him when I saw missy.”

“The gun exploded and killed Fish! I’m glad!” Berry said stoutly. “Maybe the other two will leave.”

“They’s lookin’ fo’ Mistah Fain.”

“He’ll try to get to the cabin,” Rachel said. “I know he will. What can he do against two armed men?”

“He’ll not have to worry so much about us now. He’ll see that Simon is gone and know Israel is the only one who could have carried him away.” Berry dipped water into a pan and set it on the floor beside Simon. He lay on his stomach, his face turned toward her. She sponged his face with a wet cloth and kissed his cheek. “Oh, your poor back! I don’t know if I can do it, darlin’. I don’t know what to do!”

“Let me do it, Berry. Israel, help me get his breeches off.” Rachel dipped a towel into the warm water, then placed it, still dripping, on Simon’s back. “Get clean sheet and some cloth for bandages, Berry.”

Berry fought down the hopelessness that threatened to overcome her when she saw the dirt embedded in the bloody welter of Simon’s back. She washed the blood from his hips and covered them with the sheet. Don’t think, she scolded herself sternly. Do what you have to do.

Rachel continued to lay dripping towels on Simon’s shredded flesh. Each time she removed one it was coated with dirt. Israel took away the bloody water and returned with clean. After each trip he lifted the shutter and looked out the window.

Berry knelt at Simon’s head and smoothed his dark hair back from his still face. It seemed so strange to see him so still. She had never seen him sleeping. He looked young and helpless, and a great out-pouring of protectiveness flooded her heart. She caressed his head with her fingertips, kissed his face, and murmured that she loved him. When the tips of her fingers slid to the nape of his neck and up, she felt a large sticky lump and let out a cry of alarm.

“I knew it was there,” Rachel said softly. “There had to be a reason for him to be unconscious all this time. I want to do as much as I can to his back before he comes to, because the pain will be terrible.”

“Will he . . . die?”

“All we can do is pray that infection doesn’t set in. There . . . I think I’ve got it clean. We’ll cover it with bear oil and a clean cloth. I’m afraid to move him so I can see what’s on the other side. I’m quite sure he has some broken ribs.” Rachel gathered up the basin and the towels and moved away.

Berry stayed on her knees beside the bunk. She noticed how slowly Simon breathed. Occasionally his brow wrinkled with a frown. He was encased in pain. It penetrated into the fragments of his consciousness. She suffered with him, crying silently.

Despite her overpowering concern for Simon, Berry was acutely aware of the danger that lurked outside. She listened to the low murmur of Rachel’s and Israel’s voices, knowing that they kept watch at the window for a sign of Fain.

“I shot one of them with the rifle you passed to me, Israel. I missed my shot and got him in the shoulder. I wish I’d killed him—then there would have been only one left out there.”

“Yass’m. Ah went ta the river way down yonder ’n’ saw Lardy dead. The buzzards done picked out his eyes. Ah took ’im to where the ferry come ’n’ left ’im there on the boards.”

“You found Lardy and you came back to help us. Why didn’t you go on and save yourself?”

“I’s yours ’n’ missy’s slave, Miz Rachel. I a big, dumb nigga, but I stay with my missy.”

“You’re far from dumb, Israel. Don’t ever think that. You were smart enough to fool Fish into thinking you’re dumb.” There was a long silence, then Rachel sighed tiredly. “I want Fain to come and I don’t want him to. I want him with us, but I’m afraid that’s what they expect him to do and will be waiting for him.”

Hours passed. It was suffocatingly hot in the cabin. The baby fussed. Rachel nursed her and walked the floor. Israel prowled, stopping every so often to put his ear to the outside wall and listen. Berry sat beside Simon, bathed his face, and watched Israel. He moved soundlessly on his huge bare feet; it seemed impossible that he, so big and gentle, had screamed that primitive war cry and charged Linc Smith with such fury.

Simon groaned, his eyelashes fluttered, and he opened his eyes. Berry tilted her head and leaned toward him so that her face was level with his.

“Simon? Darlin’, are you awake?”

“Berry . . . What’s wrong? Where am I?” he whispered through his puffed lips.

“You’re in the cabin, love. Israel carried you. He killed Linc, the brute that did this to you. Fish is dead too.” She kissed his bruised cheek. “You must lie still. Don’t try to roll over on your back.”

Simon closed his eyes. “I couldn’t move if I wanted to,” he said weakly. “Where’s Fain?”

“He’ll be along soon. Go back to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I didn’t think I’d make it. . . . I love you.” His hand tightened on hers.

“And I love you.”

“I’m glad it’s over. I wouldn’t be no use to you. I couldn’t . . . help. . . .” She felt his hand relax and knew he was asleep.

Berry sat beside him, watching his face, listening to his breathing. Not even sleep could wholly free him from the pain. Every so often there was a catch in his breath, followed by a faint moan. It was a steady, hurtful sound. She found herself waiting tensely for the slow breath to catch and hold. His lips moved, but she couldn’t catch what he was saying. She leaned down. He ran his tongue over dry lips and mumbled.

“I can’t hear you,” she whispered.

“I . . . like to hear her laugh. It sounds . . . like bells and makes me feel good.”

“Oh, Simon!” Her tears fell on his face.

Rachel came to lay her hand on his forehead. “Sleep is what he needs now,” she said quietly.

Berry walked with her to the other side of the room. “He thinks it’s over. I told him that Fain would be coming soon. I couldn’t tell him, Rachel. He’s so helpless.”

“You did right to ease his mind. There’s nothing he can do.”

“Missy! They out there.” Israel moved from the window so that the women could look out.

The tall, gaunt figure of Jackson, his rifle tucked under his right arm, and the heavier figure of Emil stood beside Linc’s body. They looked toward the house, then Jackson gestured with his rifle and vanished in the clark shadows. Emil lolled against the tree, his booted foot callously propped on Linc’s body.

“Mistah Fain!” Israel’s urgent whisper and his hand on Rachel’s back startled her and she let out a small cry. Her body began to shake and she clutched his arm. He urged her toward the door. On the way he pinched out the flame of the candle, plunging the room into darkness.

Rachel pressed her ear to the door. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. Israel gently pushed her aside and lifted the bar. He pulled up on the handle, the door opened silently, and Fain slipped into the room. Just as silently the door closed behind him.

“Fain!” Rachel reached for him and his arms closed around her. Her tear-wet lips searched for his, found them, and kissed hungrily. “Oh, love . . . are you all right?”

“Fine. And you, lass?” His arms strained her to him, his whisper hoarse and urgent.

“We’re all right. Simon is here.”

Israel lit the candle and in the soft glow Fain’s eyes searched the room. He held out his hand to Berry and she went to him. He put his other arm around her and hugged her to him.

“The bastard was tryin’ to beat him to death! How is he?”

Rachel answered. “He’s sleeping. We did all we could do.”

“What happened to Linc? That is him out there under the tree . . . ?”

“Israel killed him. He slammed him against the tree trunk. He would’ve killed me and Simon.” Berry sniffed, holding back sudden tears.

“You’re all wet,” Rachel exclaimed, suddenly noticing Fain’s dripping clothes and the smell of the river.

“I’ve been looking ever’where for the guns. I waded to a boat anchored out from the bank, but they’re not there. They musta stashed ’em off in the woods. They think I’ve gone down toward the Missouri. They’ll do whatever they’re goin’ to do soon, ’cause they’ve got to skeedaddle ’n case I come with help.”

“We heard the explosion and I was so afraid . . . I was just sure that . . .” Rachel hugged him tightly. The sheer heaven of having him back with her made her feel as weak as a kitten.

Fain chuckled. “I lived me ten years in a minute or two, lass. I kinda thought the plate I put on would hold for one shot, but I knew it’d not hold for two. I thought if’n Fish was dead, the other’ns would take what they wanted ’n’ go. But they ain’t a-goin’ to.” He looked at Israel and held out his hand. “I thanky, man. I was a-countin’ on ya, ’n’ ya come through just fine.”

Israel looked at the hand extended toward him and backed up. Never had he thought to shake the hand of a white man. Berry realized his confusion and gently took his hand and put it in Fain’s.

“I don’t know what we’d’ve done without him. I didn’t even hear you at the door.” Rachel clung to Fain’s arm as if afraid he’d vanish if she let go of it.

Fain gripped Israel’s hand hard and said again, “I thanky, man.” He went to look down at Simon. He lifted the cloth from his back and swore viciously. “I wish there was a way to get ya out,” he said tiredly. “I’m afeared they’ll set fire to the house. That Jackson wants ya, lass. He wants ya bad.” He looked straight at Rachel, wanting to know the worst.