Timecachers (42 page)

Tom silently vaulted onto the porch, stepping lightly as he moved toward the cabin’s back door. He cringed and paused with each creak of the floorboards; even though there was no way the faint sounds could carry far enough to be heard. The door stood open; not unusual for a nineteenth century rural home, especially a Cherokee home where the doors were only closed during times of the most inclement weather. He paused once again just inside the cabin until he heard another stone being tossed, then made his way hastily to the bedroom where the weapons and money were stashed.

Crouching next to the bed, he looked underneath. A Kentucky longrifle had been secured beneath the mattress, tied to the ropes running between the bed frame supports. He untied the rifle, and laid it on the floor next to him, then reached back under the foot of the bed bringing out a buckskin game bag. He opened the bag, checking that it contained the items Guwaya said it did—powder, lead balls, and cleaning supplies for the weapons, and a small pouch heavy with coins. The final item he pulled from under the bed was a pistol, a muzzleloader pistol matched to the caliber of the rifle. He stood up, sticking the pistol into his belt, slung the strap of the bag over his shoulder, and picked up the rifle.

He breathed a little easier now that he had recovered the weapons. He couldn’t hear the stone throwing from inside the cabin, and glancing out of the window showed it was quickly becoming dark. It would not be long before the two men would give up their game due to the fading light. He hefted the heavy longrifle, and swiftly strode to the door. All he needed to do was make his exit and sneak back across the exposed area around the cabin. Once he reached the woods, he would once again have adequate cover. Two steps away from the open door his exit path was suddenly blocked. The two men stood in the opening, obviously startled by his presence.

Their shocked faces quickly turned hostile. With eyes narrowing menacingly, one of the men spoke. “Who the hell are you?” he glared.

Chapter thirty-six

A
dam caught up with Jimmy at the barn, where he was gathering the tools they needed for the morning chores.

“I got a little behind on the apple pruning,” said Jimmy. “Too much time going to meetings and such. Most of the pruning should be done before the trees start to bud. With your help we can catch up pretty quick. The mature trees don’t need as much care as they did when they were first planted. You helped Benjamin to prune peach trees, so it’s the same idea with the apple trees. We just get rid of the deadwood and any overlapping branches.”

“I always thought of apples as a cold weather fruit,” said Adam. “I’m surprised that you can grow them in Georgia.”

“They do pretty well here in northern Georgia because we have the cooler temperatures from the mountains. They aren’t grown so much further south, though.”

They carried the tools, lopping shears, saws, and a wooden crate to use as a step stool to the orchard and began pruning. Jimmy explained how when the trees were young he had to spread hay as mulch to keep down the weeds. Now that the trees were more mature he could just scythe around them once in a while. “It’s still tiring work, especially when it gets really hot. Besides pruning, there’s the harvesting and I have to fertilize in the fall. My small orchard is pretty easy to care for now, though. And I’ve never had a problem chasing down and catching any of the trees,” he teased, chuckling as he gave Adam a friendly slap on his back.

“Very funny,” replied Adam, remembering his embarrassing experience with catching sheep. He returned the conversation to apples. “Do you sell the apples at the market?”

“Usually we do. Depends on what else we have going. I mentioned that we also have tobacco and peanuts, and sometimes there is barely enough time to keep up with it all. If we have the extra time, Rebecca will make a few large batches of applesauce. Once the applesauce is put up, we can sell it during the off season. The applesauce is more profitable in years when apples are plentiful and the market price drops. Of course making and canning the applesauce costs us a little more, and takes more work, but we earn a little extra from our crop.”

“That’s what we would call value-add. It’s a smart way to increase your profits by adding something extra to your product. You and Rebecca seem to be pretty savvy about farming, making sure you have the right amount of crops and livestock to make a living, and covering for all eventualities,” Adam said.

“It is a balancing act sometimes. Even with all our planning we can still have bad years. That’s one reason it would be devastating to be forced to move to another part of the country. We know this area, what to expect for climate, what crops will do well and which ones won’t. Out west we would have to relearn a lot about farming in that part of the country.”

“You’d still have your agricultural services ideas, though,” Adam offered. “If you had to relocate, you could develop those ideas to generate revenue for your living.”

“As excited as I get about developing technology, I’m not foolish enough to give up my familiar, reliable way of making a living. Those ideas are dreams, speculation that might eventually come to fruition. I wouldn’t want to give up farming until I had first proven I could make a living from the farming services.”

“Of course you’re right,” said Adam. “I didn’t mean to suggest that relocating would be an easy thing for you to do.” He thought about his own situation, where losing his job led to starting his own business. “It would certainly be a terrible loss if you had to give up your homeland. If that happens, you’ll be forced to alter your lifestyle. It’s possible that over time things might work out for the best. I mean, as far as making a living goes. Keep in mind I’m speaking from my own point of view, my future, where removal is a foregone conclusion.”

“I cannot allow myself to believe that removal is inevitable,” Jimmy declared. “But if it does happen, I hope for my family’s sake I will still be able to provide for them. I believe such a disruptive upheaval would not be very conducive to starting a new enterprise.”

From what Adam could remember about the Indian Removal, Jimmy was right. The turmoil would be tremendous. Even though they were initially greeted warmly, the arrival of so many new Cherokee emigrants in the Arkansas Territory eventually caused severe discord with the “Old Settlers,” the Cherokee that were already there, and a civil war erupted.

Adam realized the situation Jimmy was facing was much more severe than his job loss. He didn’t want to risk insulting him with an example of how things had worked out for him, and decided it was not a good topic of discussion. He changed the subject to something more pleasant for both of them—technology. Adam had no idea what the time-travel rules were, nor what might cause a paradox, but he felt the need to use his knowledge of the future to give him some sort of advantage. He saw no harm in giving Jimmy a few insights into the technological developments that were in store for him.

“In my version of history,” Adam began, “mechanization had the most profound effect upon agriculture. I’m sure you’ve thought about the power of the locomotives. The country is currently in the process of laying railroad tracks across the country. You have certainly considered the advantage of the steam engine over horse power.”

“I have,” Jimmy answered, “and I’ve even attended some demonstrations of steam-powered engines on the farm. However, they have mostly proven to be too heavy, huge, and cumbersome to be used practically.”

“At the moment, that’s true. It’s going to take another few decades of improvements in engine technology for them to become useful for agriculture. But, even though you can’t accept that my timeline is unavoidable, you can surely see that technological advancement is inevitable. Invention will happen, and those on the forefront of the successful endeavors will prosper.”

Jimmy nodded. “I will agree that the advancement of technology must occur. Short of a collapse of civilization, that much is unavoidable.”

“There will be many labor-saving machines invented, such as your cotton gin that will revolutionize farming. Even before a replacement for the horse comes along, many practical apparatuses will be adopted. There was an inventor in my home state of Delaware, name of Oliver Evans, who used steam engines to power a grist mill. He built the first automatic flour mill.”

“Sure, I’ve heard of Oliver Evans. He contributed much to the automation of agriculture with his inventions before he passed away. He also was working on a steam-powered vehicle, although with limited success.”

“When you think about it, as the population grows and more inventions come about to produce crops more efficiently, the need for better ways to harvest, process, and store crops and grain will increase exponentially. It may be to your advantage,” Adam continued, “to seek out and team up with an inventor whose ideas are compatible with yours. Attending a college or technical institute is a good way to meet an engineer like Oliver Evans. There is a man by the name of Cyrus McCormick, who I understand has just completed improvements on an innovative device his father worked on for years—a horse-drawn reaping machine. I’m willing to bet that his invention makes a significant contribution to agriculture. If you could hook up, uh, I mean meet, someone with mutual ideas of farm machine mechanization it would be to your benefit.”

“I believe I have heard something of his machine. It is a good idea to attend a technical institution. Doing so would be difficult with so much to do on our farm, but you have encouraged me and I will discuss it with Rebecca. And maybe someday I will make Mr. McCormick’s acquaintance.”

Encouraging Jimmy to go to school, enticing him with Oliver Evans’ inventions, and giving him Cyrus McCormick’s name was about as close to creating a predestination time paradox that Adam was willing to risk. He was committed to doing what he could to lessen the suffering of his new friends. His principles demanded that he do something to give Jimmy a reasonable chance of success after he was relocated. It was quite possible, with his interest in agricultural technology, that Jimmy would find a way to attend a university anyway. Adam figured he wasn’t meddling with destiny too much.

They were still working in the apple orchard when they heard the sound of horses thundering up the Deerinwater farm lane. Adam cast a quick glance at Jimmy, whose startled expression revealed he was not expecting visitors. Under normal circumstances, the Deerinwaters would welcome guests at any time. These days, strangers approaching his farm were a cause for alarm.

They could not see the lane from the orchard. They dropped their tools at the foot of the tree they were pruning and headed to the farmhouse at a run. Jimmy sprinted ahead, easily outpacing Adam and entering the farmhouse through the open back door. Before he reached the door, Adam could hear angry voices coming from the house. He felt an icy chill when he recognized one of the voices as belonging to Jeb Barnett, the head man of the Georgia militia unit that had accosted them.

He heard Jimmy shout “Get out of my house!” as he entered the farmhouse, just in time to see Jeb strike Jimmy’s midsection with a vicious jab from the butt of his rifle. Jimmy expelled a great “oomph” as he dropped to the floor. Rebecca cried out and knelt to minister to Jimmy, who was clutching his abdomen and gasping for breath. Two other men that Adam recognized as some of Jeb’s minions from the other day stood behind him, fully armed and smirking. Adam could see several other men standing with the horses outside the front door. Jeb drew back his rifle as if he was preparing to strike again.

“Learn him good, Jeb,” said one of the minions.

“Keep away from him!” Adam cried as he placed himself protectively between Jeb and Jimmy.

“You’re gonna be next, half-breed,” Jeb snarled.

“Just tell us what you want,” said Adam. He could hear his voice tremble in spite of his efforts to keep his fear from coming through. “There’s no need for violence.”

“I’ll damn well be as violent as it takes!” Jeb grabbed Adam by a handful of shirt, and putting his face as close to his as he could, snarled, “What I want is you all outa here, right now! My orders are to git all the injuns livin’ here to the fort right now, including you. Adam could smell Jeb’s disgusting breath, a mixture of whiskey, tobacco, and gum disease, wafting in his face with each word. Jeb gave Adam a shake and pushed him back with a vicious heave. He raised his rifle once again, preparing to strike Adam.

“Don’t hit him!” cried Rebecca. “We’ll go to the fort, if you want. Just please don’t hurt anyone else.”

Jeb lowered the rifle and leered at Rebecca, as if seeing her for the first time.

“Since you asked so nice, little squaw, just for you I won’t clobber him. Just remember that when I want a little somethin’ from you,” he said, slithering closer to Rebecca and giving her a depraved wink.

“Stay away from my wife, you miscreant!” Jimmy tried to yell. He was still on the floor, and his words sounded strained and breathless.

“Shut up,” said Jeb, punctuating his words with a kick to Jimmy’s lower back. “All three of you git outside, now!”

Adam and Rebecca helped Jimmy to his feet, supporting him on each side as they moved toward the front door.

“I can make it,” Jimmy whispered. “It will be better if I try not to show weakness.”

Adam glanced at Rebecca, who nodded. They eased away slowly from Jimmy until they were sure his own legs would support him, then all three went out the front door, followed by Jeb and his lackeys. Outside were four more men, two small horse-drawn carts, and three saddled horses. The three hesitated and immediately Jeb shoved them from behind.