Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] Read Online Free Page A

as old as the hills.”
    Farr sat in the rocker holding his four-month-old daughter against his shoulder and watched his wife with loving eyes. Sanctuary and peace existed for him in that sweet woman. Her white-blond hair was drawn in graceful wings to a knot at the back of her neck, framing her pale oval face. Her blue eyes flashed him a bright, happy smile. As she moved he caught the scent of her, the clean sweetness of her hair and skin. He never ceased to marvel that she was his and that she loved him. The baby burped and Farr felt something wet on his shoulder.
    “Ah, shoot, Libby! She puked on me again.”
    Liberty laughed. “Serves you right for pounding her little back so hard. Mercy, fetch your papa a cloth. He’s complaining about a little puke.”
    Nine-year-old Mercy, whom Farr had found in a burned-out homestead seven years before, tugged on a strand of his hair at the nape of his neck as she passed behind him on the way to the wash stand.
    “Someday I’m going to tan your backside, young lady,” Farr growled menacingly.
    “You always say that, but I know you won’t.” Mercy wrinkled her nose and gave him a saucy grin.
    “But he ought to. It’d take some of the sass out of you.” A tall youth called out as he came in the door, quickly closed it behind him to shut out the cold and stood on the rag rug stamping his feet to rid them of snow.
    “Just hush up, Daniel Phelps. You’re not giving orders around here!”
    “No bickering on Christmas Eve, Mercy. That goes for you, too, Daniel.” Liberty gazed fondly at the boy, and her husband gazed fondly at her.
    “Tell him. He’s always saying, ‘do this, do that’.” Mercy tossed her blond head and behind Liberty’s back stuck her tongue out at Daniel.
    “Shhh . . . I did tell him. Be quiet or you’ll wake up the baby.”
    “Papa, Daniel’s back! Ya done the chores, Daniel? Can we go out and fire the shots, Papa?” A towheaded boy scampered down the stairs from the loft. His shouts woke the baby, and she let out a screech.
    “Oh, Zack! We can see that Daniel’s back. Must you always shout?” Liberty spoke loudly to her five-year-old son so she could be heard over her daughter’s frightened cries. Zachary, named for Major Zachary Taylor, was a big, robust child with his father’s green eyes and his mother’s light hair.
    “Take Mary Elizabeth, Libby, and I’ll get these younguns out from under your feet.” Farr stood and passed the crying infant over to her mother.
    “If you’re going to make a racket, go far enough from the house so you won’t scare the baby. There, there, darling . . .” Liberty crooned.
    “We’ll just fire off a few shots to celebrate.” Farr shrugged into his coat. His green eyes twinkled with laughter. The lines about his eyes and mouth attested to the fact that he smiled often. “We’re suppose to make a little racket on Christmas Eve. I bet your Liberty Bell is ringing in Philadelphia right now.”
    “Silly man! It isn’t my bell; I’m just named after it. Folks in town will think you’re crazy as a loon to waste all that good powder.”
    “Since when do you care what folks think, Mrs. Quill?” His eyes mocked her.
    “I guess I don’t, now that you mention it.”
    “I’m going! I’m going to shoot the gun too!” Mercy pulled her coat from the peg on the wall and tried to wiggle around Daniel to get out the door.
    “Hold on there, you stupid girl!” He yanked on her arm to stop her, then shoved a cap down on her head. “Put your coat on before you go out.”
    “Dan, Dan, the bossy man!” Mercy chanted and stamped her foot. “Oh, you make me so mad! Papa!” she shrieked when Daniel wrapped a scarf around and around her neck and drew it tight. “Make him leave me be.”
    Liberty watched with a tolerant smile. Daniel had been looking after Mercy since the day they had found him, a four-year-old boy, sitting beside his dead mother. She had tossed him into hiding in the berry bushes to save