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

him when their caravan had been attacked by river pirates.
    “Daniel’s right this time, Mercy. If you’re going with us, put on your cap and mittens and wrap that scarf around your neck. If you get sick it will spoil your Christmas.” Farr helped his young son into his coat and shoved a fur cap down over his ears. “Put on your mittens and let’s get out of here before Mama loses her temper and calls off Christmas.”
    “Calls off Christmas? Can Mama do that?” Zack asked with a fearful look over his shoulder at his mother.
    “Your mama usually does whatever she sets her mind to.” Farr opened the door and a puff of cold air came rushing in. “Get the sled, Daniel, and let’s go.” While ushering the children out, his eyes, soft with twinkling lights, rested lovingly on his wife’s face.
    After the door closed, Liberty pulled the rocker up close to the fire, sat down and opened her dress. The baby’s seeking mouth found the nipple on her breast and sucked greedily. She hugged her small daughter to her and rocked contentedly. She had caught the look her husband had given her before he closed the door. He had sought her eyes, and she his, as they did a hundred times or more each day. He did not have to touch her or even move toward her to let her know she was wrapped in his love.
    Liberty could hear her sister moving around upstairs. Amy had been quiet and restless lately, no doubt dreading their father and stepmother’s visit the next day. Amy had not forgiven her father for trying to force her when she was only twelve to marry Stith Lenning, a man so cruel and devious that Farr had later been forced to kill him. Amy had married old Juicy Deverell instead. Now her father wanted her to marry Tally Perkins, his stepson. Tally had proposed marriage almost immediately after Juicy had died two years ago.
    Amy came lightly down the steep stairway. Unusually tall for a girl, she was amazingly slender and graceful, with a long neck, arms and legs. She wore her hair loose today. It hung down her back in shimmering reddish brown waves. The most arresting feature in her fragile, finely sculpted face was her eyes. They were pure amber, large and thickly fringed with long, brown, gold-tipped lashes. Juicy had once described her as quick as a cat, smart as a whip, and wild as a deer. The old man had married her, given her his name for protection, and treated her like the beloved granddaughter he’d never had.
    The last years of Juicy’s life had been devoted to Amy. He taught her to load and shoot the gun in half a minute; and more important than speed, he taught her to hit what she shot at. He taught her to use a knife, a whip, and to follow a track through the forest. The old man took great pride in the fact that she could handle a canoe, hunt, and trap almost as well as Farr, who was the best he had ever known. In general, Juicy taught her the things he would have taught a grandson. Amy, in turn, gave to him the love and devotion she had never felt for her own father, and she missed him terribly after he died.
    “I can smell the turkey.”
    “It’ll have to cook all night. The partridges won’t take so long. I’ll put them in early in the morning. All we have left to make are the pies. Ah . . . Mary Elizabeth, I’m soaking wet. Why couldn’t you have done that when your papa was holding you?” Liberty lifted her daughter and put a folded cloth beneath her. The baby spit and cooed and smiled. Liberty held the chubby infant to her shoulder and watched her sister roam around the room.
    “It’s stopped snowing.” Amy let the curtain fall back in place, turned and put her hands on her hips. “Why do I always look for him on Christmas Eve?”
    Liberty knew who “he” was—Rain Tallman, the boy Amy had loved since she was twelve years old.
    “Because the year of the earthquake he came on Christmas Eve. In his letter to Farr he said that he was coming back sometime this year.”
    “Well, the year is about over,