Free News of the World: A Novel by Paulette Jiles Page A

have to ask the price of a new tire rim and the labor.
    On into town, down Trinity Street, full of white men wearing their tight-fitting clothing and women in dresses that were architectural constructions of cloth and whalebone. Johanna gazed with some interest at two black women carrying shopping baskets with the heads of alarmed hens sticking out. Finally the Captain came into Gannet’s livery stable yard and there stepped down.
    The stableman took hold of Fancy’s driving bridle and cried, Whoa there! As if the weary little roan were about to charge through the back end of the fairway.
    Hang on to her there, said the Captain. She’s about to go completely wild on you.
    Fancy hung her head and rolled her tongue under the straight bar of the driving bit and then yawned.
    Never know, the man said. Unpredictable, new horse, never saw it before. He hiccupped.
    Yes, said the Captain. You must only see new horses three or four times a day.
    The man unhitched the little roan and took the harness from her back. The Captain could smell alcohol on the man’s breath.
    Mrs. Gannet came out of the feed storage room with three empty flowered feed sacks in her hands. Her bonnet sat on theback of her head and the strings hung down over her shoulders. Still very trim, the Captain thought. Girlish waist.
    Captain Kidd! she cried. She smiled and came to stand with one hand on the Curative Waters wagon’s side to see the girl staring out of the red wool with eyes like a carp. She turned to the Captain with an interrogative look. As he explained he stood at the high back wheel with one arm on it, taller than Mrs. Gannet by a head. Even as he told his story he wondered that she ran the livery stable by herself. He was worn and stained with Red River sludge and he had to go about buying newspapers in what he stood up in. No help for it.
    San Antonio! said Mrs. Gannet. God above. That is very far, Captain. And you’ll be alone on the roads. There’s news of more raids all through the country. She turned to the stableman to see what he was doing. The Captain knew that raids were how she had become a widow. A year ago they had found Mr. Gannet in several pieces along the Weatherford road and none of them had any clothes on them. She said, Wait for a convoy, will you not?
    Yes, yes, he said. We’ll see. It will be all right. He saw her dubious expression. I’m armed, he said. A sidearm and a shotgun. And now I have to go find the latest newspapers and a hotel. May I leave her with you for a few hours? I don’t think she’ll run away and go flitting about Dallas. In Spanish Fort there was someplace to go. The river. Here, she’s deep inside enemy territory so to speak. He ran his blue-veined hand over a two-day growth of silver grizzle. I’m a mess, Mrs. Gannet.
    She laughed and said for the Captain to go about his business, she could look after the girl. If he would care to change inthe feed room she would send out his traveling clothes to Mrs. Carnahan and also she would ask Mrs. Carnahan if she had a secondhand dress to fit the girl and perhaps other necessary garments. The girl needed a change of clothing. He reached for his portfolio and looked down at her. Widowed, no more than forty-five. Painfully young. She had eyes of a leaf-colored hazel and a good smile.
    I am very grateful, the Captain said. He lifted his hat to her, replaced it. I will settle up when we leave tomorrow.
    He turned to Johanna and was surprised when her small hand appeared out of the jorongo and reached for his. She was very frightened and perhaps thought she was to be handed over to yet another stranger. He smiled and put his hand on her forehead, briefly, in lieu of patting her cheek, which was hidden behind the red wool.
    It’s all right, he said. It’s all right.
    He took out his hunting watch. Then he put it back. Johanna had no idea of time. It was pointless to tell her he would be back in an hour. So he just said,
    Sit. Stay.

EIGHT
    T HE CAPTION