Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (29 page)

He forced his way through a tangle of underbrush and saw Liberty lying on the grass. Her hair was wet and muddy and her sodden underclothes, covered with river slime, clung to her body. An Indian woman as wet and bedraggled as Liberty knelt beside her. The mewing sound had come from a baby who lay in a wet and muddied blanket beside the woman.

The scene of Fawnella lying in the dirt beside the cabin flashed through Farr’s mind and the feeling of déjà vu caused a lump of fear to knot in his throat.

“Machemenetoo sepe tschi, machemenetoo sepe tschi.
” The Indian woman was rocking back and forth on her knees, her hands clasped in front of her.

Devil river kill.
The Shawnee words almost knocked the breath out of Farr. He fell on his knees, grasped Liberty’s shoulders and turned her over. She was as limp as a rag. Wet and covered with mud, she was almost unrecognizable. He wiped the mud from her face with the palm of his hand and tried to feel for a pulse in her throat with his fingertips, but his own pulse was hammering so hard he couldn’t feel anything. He bent his head and placed his ear on her breast. When he heard the strong beat of her heart he wanted to shout his relief. She was all right! His guess was that she had worn herself out and had either swooned or was in an exhausted sleep. He gathered her slim body up in his arms and held her tightly to his breast while waves of thankfulness flowed over him.

“No nepwa!
Not dead, not dead,” he repeated until he was sure the Indian woman understood.

Colby and Rain, with Mr. Washington and Amy behind him, broke through the tangle of bushes. Amy fell on her knees beside her sister.

“Is she all right? Farr! Farr! Libby’s got to be all right!” she wailed.

“I think she is. I think she swooned.”

“Amy said Libby jumped in the river and saved an Indian woman and baby,” Colby said with disbelief. “My God! I’ve never known a woman who could swim.”

Farr held Liberty against him, cradling her head with one hand, hiding her nakedness, because every line of her breast and belly were clearly visible through the thin material of her wet underclothes.

“Libby can,” Amy said stoutly. “Libby can swim better than any man I ever saw.” She looked pointedly at Rain. “Libby just jumped right in! Oh! I was so scared for her!”

Amy told about seeing the canoe come careening down the river, about the woman clinging to the tree and Liberty swimming out to take first the baby, and then going back for the mother. Liberty slept on during the telling. Farr held her and the men kept their eyes averted.

“Amy, get her dress and we’ll get her up to the house. Rain, see if you can find out where this woman came from and tell her to come with us and get dried out.”

Rain knelt down beside the Indian woman and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Mother,” he said in the language of the Shawnee. “Why were you on the river with your child?”

Surprised to hear the white boy speak her language so fluently, she gazed at him for a moment and then placed her hand over her heart before she spoke.

“My heart cries for my people.” She picked up the baby and held it in her arms. “Four seasons ago I was taken by the white man to the country in the south. When he go in great canoe down big river, I hide myself for many days from white man who would make me slave. I walk until the moon change and come to little river where I found the canoe. Big rain come and swell the little river. I could not paddle against the great water. White-haired woman come like a fish and take my son. I think I die, but rejoice that my son would be in the land of the Shawnee. White-haired woman come back and I am here.”

Rain briefly repeated her story to Farr who had under stood snatches of it. Then he asked, “Why did you not walk, mother?”

She moved aside her sodden skirt to show him her foot. Her ankle was swollen to an enormous size and there was deep, open gash on her heel.

“Lawdy!” Mr. Washington squatted on his heels to look at the foot. “It’s fair swelled to bust!”

The Indian woman drew back slightly when the huge black man with the silver rings in his ears and one in his nostrils came close to her.

“No wonder she took her chance on the river,” Colby said. “She sure as hell couldn’t walk on that foot. Were you headed for Prophetstown, mother?” he asked kindly. She understood, although Colby’s skill at speaking her language was not nearly as good as Rain’s.

“I am called Tecumapese. My brother is Tecumseh, the great chief of all the Shawnee,” she said proudly. “I go to him and to my other brothers, the three who were born at one time.”

“Thunderation! Did you get that, Farr?” Colby said in English. “She’s a sister to Tecumseh and that other bast—”

“I got it.” Farr cut in quickly not knowing how much English the woman understood. “This could make the difference whether or not we get burned out. But something’s got to be done about her foot. Mr. Washington, Sugar Tree would know more about how to take care of it than anyone. Would you want to bring your wife here, or take the woman to your place?”

“Sugar Tree know.” Mr. Washington nodded in agreement and stood. He fingered the silver ring in his nose as he studied the woman. “The Shawnee woman’ll not want to come. She’s scared of a black man.”

“If she’s been south she’s seen one before. Rain, explain to her that Mr. Washington’s wife is Shawnee and that she’s his wife by choice. It will save time if you and Mr. Washington took her to Sugar Tree. If something isn’t done soon, that foot might have to come off to save her life.”

Rain began to explain to the woman that the black man would take her to his wife who would doctor her foot. At first she looked up at Mr. Washington with frightened eyes, but then gradually her face relaxed.

“Sugar Tree, his woman, is Shawnee. Sometimes she longs to visit with her people. She will make you welcome and use her skill to treat your foot. Sugar Tree’s husband will carry you to their lodge, and I will carry your child.”

Tecumapese nodded and trustingly handed Rain her son.

“That baby will be sick if it stays in those wet blankets!” Amy exclaimed. She had returned with Liberty’s dress and Farr was slipping it over her sister’s head. “You wait right here, Rain Tallman. Don’t you move an inch with that baby until I can get you something dry to wrap it in.” She darted back into the willows and returned a minute later with her white petticoat. Not the least embarrassed, she waved it at the red-faced Rain. “Give him to me and I’ll wrap him in this. Men!” she snorted. “They don’t know the first thing about babies.”

She lifted the baby out of the wet blanket and placed him on the petticoat she had spread on the grass. Suddenly free of the blanket, he waved his tiny arms and legs. Amy cooed to him softly and carefully wrapped the naked little body in the dry petticoat.

“See. He’s all right.” She held the baby toward its mother so she could see his contented little face. “You be careful with him, hear?” she said sternly to Rain, and placed the child in his arms.

“What did you think I was going to do? Drag him by the heels?” he snarled. Rain waited while Mr. Washington picked the woman up in his arms as effortlessly as if she were a babe. Then, knowing she would be anxious about her child, he shot Amy an angry glance and led the way to the path.

“You two kids sure strike sparks off each other,” Colby said with a chuckle.

“He thinks he knows everything!” Amy tossed her head and glared defiantly at Colby. “I know a lot more about babies than he does.”

“I don’t doubt that one bit.”

“Then why did he act so smarty?”

“I didn’t notice Rain bein’ smarty. Did you, Farr?” Colby asked innocently.

“Well I did!” Amy said heatedly.

“Don’t get all prickly, love. I’m on your side. I think you’re much prettier than Rain. If you say he’s smarty, I agree. As a matter of fact, I just might loosen a few of his teeth for being so smarty.” Colby couldn’t keep the grin off his face when he saw Amy’s astonishment. When she realized he was teasing, her eyes began to dance, her lips tilted, and through a huge smile she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Oh, you!”

Farr got to his feet with Liberty in his arms. “Get my rifle, Colby. We’ve got to get Libby back to the house and out of these wet clothes.”

L
iberty opened her eyes. She was being carried, cradled against a warm, naked chest. She wasn’t dreaming because she could hear Amy chattering excitedly and Farr’s deep voice close to her ear. She tilted her head and when her eyes began to focus properly, she saw his stern profile outlined against the blue sky. His cheek was covered with a day’s growth of beard, all except for the white scar beside his mouth. Feeling the movement of her head on his shoulder, he looked down. Their faces were so close she could see the amber circles around the irises in his green eyes and a tiny mole amid the thick lashes on his lower lid.

“How did you get that scar?” When he didn’t answer she realized the words had not come out, that she had merely croaked. She tried again. “Why are you carrying me?” Her throat was raw and her voice was strangely ragged.

“You swooned.”

“I’ve never swooned.”

“You did this time. Hush trying to talk. We’ll be home soon.”

Home.
Events had happened so fast that she hadn’t had time to settle in and think about Farr’s home being her home.
Home.
A spot on the earth that was hers. Where she belonged. Where she had roots. It was a blessed, comforting word. Her mouth began to tremble, her eyes flooded, and she couldn’t see.

“Why are you crying? You’ll be all right. The woman and babe are safe too.” His voice was strained. “Do you hurt? I was sure you didn’t have any injuries other than being worn out.” He had stopped walking. “Libby? Am I hurting you?” His question was anxious, caring.

“I’m all right.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I . . . I don’t know.”

“We’ll be home soon,” he repeated and started walking again. “You’ll feel better when you get out of these wet clothes and get the river water out of your throat.”

“I can walk.”

“You’ve ruined your shoes. I’ll have to make you some moccasins.”

“But I’m so heavy.”

“You’re not heavy at all. Besides, I like carrying you . . .” The admission had come honestly, the last two words trailing as he looked away from her.

Amy danced alongside them, and Liberty didn’t have time to ponder the meaning of Farr’s words.

“Is she awake?”

“She’s awake. Run ahead and tell Willa to heat some water and get a bed ready for her. Amy,” he called, because she had taken off in a run toward the cabin, “tell Willa to make a hot rum toddy.”

“I will. Oh, I will. Farr? I’m so glad Libby married up with you.” Amy’s voice rang with joy.

“So am I.”

The words came out on a breath, and Liberty wasn’t sure if she heard them or just wished them. She buried her face in the warm flesh of his neck and her hand inched up until her fingers slid into the soft hair at his nape. She savored his nearness, the strength of his arms, the warmth of his breath on her cheek, the strong beat of his heart against hers. Not for anything would she tell him that every bone in her body throbbed with pain and that her back felt as if it was being pierced by a thousand needles.

The instant Liberty’s arm crept around his neck, Farr felt a wondrous spurt of happiness. There was far more to this woman he had taken for a wife than he had at first believed. He knew she was spunky, but to jump into a swollen river was something only one man out of a hundred would have done. All the odds were against her, but she hadn’t stopped to think about that. She could easily have been sucked under and not come up until she was miles downriver or swept away by the tangle of trees washed down by the flood. He had no doubt the big wave the Indian woman and Amy spoke of was caused by the collapsing of a clay bank into the river.

His arms tightened around her as he thought of her narrow escape from death. She had brought such warmth and pride to his home with her loving, womanly ways. He liked her independent spirit and the way she refused to be put aside because she was a woman. Her coming had given the world a new brightness. His heart cried out to God that he didn’t want to love this woman, that he couldn’t endure the gut-crushing agony of losing her.

Amy and Colby had blurted out the story of what had happened at the river by the time Farr and Liberty reached the cabin. The place was abuzz with activity. Liberty, too weary to open her eyes, was almost asleep again when Farr lowered her to the bunk and knelt to take off her sodden, muddy shoes.

“She’s worn out,” he said huskily. “Wash her, Willa. And Amy, fetch a clean gown.”

Suddenly Daniel launched himself at Farr, his small fists flailing, tears streaming down his cheeks. The surprise attack almost knocked Farr off his heels.

“Daniel! What—”

“You made her go to heaven!” he sobbed and continued to strike out at Farr until he caught the boy and held his small sobbing body in a tight grip.

“She’s all right. Daniel? Do you hear me? Libby is all right. She’s just tired.”

Liberty roused. “What’s the matter with Daniel?”

“He thinks you’re dead,” Amy said bluntly from where she stood at the end of the bunk.

“Oh, poor baby! Come here, love.” Liberty held out her arms and when Farr released him, Daniel flung himself at her and clutched her tightly, burying his face against her. “Danny, darling. Don’t cry. I’m all right. See? I’m all wet, but I’m all right.” She stroked his hair and kissed his forehead.

“I don’t want you to go to heaven,” he sobbed.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll not be left alone. You’ve got me and Farr and Amy and Willa. Don’t cry, love.” Liberty lifted her eyes, and found herself staring into Farr’s serious, green ones. He knelt down beside the bunk.

“Daniel, we men have got to get out of here so Libby can get out of those wet clothes. How about coming with me down to the sawyer camp?” Farr gently pulled the little boy out of Liberty’s arms. “Colby and I could use some help.”

Liberty’s eyes clung to Farr. The compassionate tone in his voice as he stood with his hand on the child’s head almost moved her to tears again. Daniel looked up at Farr and nodded solemnly.