Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] Read Online Free

would preach a sermon declaring that they had failed to keep the Sabbath holy and were bound for the fiery furnace.
    The buggy stopped beside the house, and Addie and Dillon went out into the yard to greet them.
    “Come in out of the sun and have a cool drink.”
    “We can’t stay but a minute or two,” said Mrs. Sikes, a spry little birdlike woman. She climbed out of the buggy and was on the porch before her portly husband’s feet touched the ground. “I was eager to know if Mr. Hyde had come in on today’s train.”
    “No. He wasn’t on the train. Sit here in the porch rocker, Mrs. Sikes.”
    “And how’s that baby boy?” She pinched Dillon’s cheek, her beady eyes bright with affection.
    “He’s no longer a baby. He’s three years old.”
    “He is? My, how time flies.”
    “Afternoon, Preacher Sikes. Come up on the porch. I’ll get a chair and a bucket of cool water. It’s cooler out here than in the house.”
    “You gettin’ along all right?” the preacher asked after he had drunk, dropped the dipper back into the bucket, and sunk down on the chair Addie had brought from the house. She cringed, hoping the chair would survive when she heard it creak and groan under his massive weight.
    “We’re doing fine. Just fine,” Addie replied.
    “There’s men on the road day and night, all of ’em fresh from the killin’ and burnin’ and rapin’. Town’s clogged with deserters and free slaves that don’t know what to do with themselves. You bein’ out here without a man is the devil’s temptation. ’Specially with that trollop here.” His voice boomed in the quiet that was broken only by the buzz of junebugs and the caw of a crow high in a pecan tree.
    “I’m not alone. I have the children and Trisha, who most certainly is no trollop,” Addie said indignantly.
    “Fiddle-faddle!” The fat preacher snorted. “That lazy nigget gal draws fornicatin’ trash like flies to a honey pot.”
    Addie bit back the retort that came to mind. She controlled her temper and took a deep breath. She couldn’t afford to anger the preacher. He was mean enough to take Colin and Jane Ann away from her just to “teach her a lesson.” The flush that covered Addie’s face did not go unnoticed by Mrs. Sikes.
    “We worry about you, dear.”
    “We sit back from the road. We’re not bothered.” (
Forgive
me, God, for this lie.
)
    “You didn’t come to service Sunday,” Preacher Sikes said accusingly. It was not unseasonably hot, but sweat rolled from his forehead and down his cheeks.
    “Daisy has a swollen fetlock and I didn’t want to hitch her to the wagon. (
For this lie, too, God.
) It was too hot to walk and carry Dillon.”
    “Nay, my child.” The preacher shook his head so hard that his jowls flopped. “Mere discomfort is no excuse for staying away from God’s house. Them orphans should’ve been there to hear God’s word,” he said sternly, then added: “The boy’s big enough to do a day’s work to pay for his board, and he’s been asked for.”
    “He works
here.
” Addie felt an almost frantic uneasiness leap within her. “You needn’t worry about Jane Ann and Colin. I’m going to keep
both
of them.”
    “You’ve done yore Christian duty by ’em. Ya kept ’em longer than ya ort to of. It’s time someone else took on the burden.”
    “Colin and Jane Ann are not a burden,” Addie said firmly. “When you brought them here, you said they had no close relatives to claim them. I have as much right to them as anyone.”
    “They ain’t got no livin’ kin that I know of. They was left to the church, and I took on the chore of seein’ ’em raised. I’m thinkin’ they be needin’ a stronger hand than what they been gettin’ here. The Lord says, ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child.’ ”
    Addie seriously doubted that the Lord meant to
beat
children, but she could see that arguing with Preacher Sikes would only make him more adamant. She choked down her anger and tried to speak