Free Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] by Lonesome River

calm while an almost frantic uneasiness leaped within her. Actually this man was a stranger. Could it be that only one night, a day and part of another night had passed since she first set eyes on him? So much had happened in such a short time. Why did she babble on and on when she was with him? Did he think she was bragging about her mother’s connection with the famous bell?
    “What are you thinking about when you stand so still, watching me with those big, sad eyes?” His voice was soft and intimate. She thought it had a teasing quality too, but he was not smiling.
    She turned away, letting her glance move around the meadow to the trees that edged it. She knew she must speak, and speak casually. She looked back at him, then dropped her eyes. It was a strange feeling that washed over her, as if she lacked breath, as if she were sad to the point of tears, yet she was excited to be alone with him.
    “I don’t know that I should tell you.”
    “Why?”
    “You’d think I’ve taken leave of my senses.” She tilted her face, looked up at him, and smiled provocatively, unaware that she was doing so. Her mouth was wide and straight, its beauty was in the swift mobile movements of her lips as they parted over her even white teeth.
    “I might. I don’t know much about women.”
    “And I don’t know much about men . . . like you.”
    “Like me? Why am I different? I’m a man like any other. I get tired, hungry, angry, scared. I get lonely, I dream—”
    “About what?”
    “About most things a man dreams about, I guess.”
    “Why did you stay with us?” she asked, wishing she were less conscious of his nearness.
    “Maybe I wanted you to take Mercy off my hands.”
    “Is that the only reason?”
    “No.”
    “Why, then? Hull Dexter went off and left us.”
    “I like to think I’m a cut above Hull Dexter,” he said with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
    “Do you think he ran off and left those folks?”
    “What else can I think? I saw no sign of a fight.”
    “It would be like him. He ran off and left us! He should be brought to justice!”
    “By whom? There’s very little white man’s law out here Liberty. It’s every man for himself. Self-preservation is the first law of the frontier.”
    “But that’s uncivilized. What about the Indians?”
    “They have their own laws and punish their own people.”
    “I mean what about the Indians who raid and kill? Is there no one to punish them?”
    “The militia does what it can to keep the peace. Don’t forget that it’s the Indians’ land that’s being taken away. Wouldn’t you fight for your home?”
    “You sound as if you’re on
their
side,” she said coolly.
    “I have a certain sympathy for their predicament. They’ve lived here for hundreds of years. Now a steady stream of whites is invading their territory, killing off the game, clearing and plowing the land.”
    “Well, I don’t have any sympathy for them. There’s enough room for everyone. They’ve no right to kill . . . and take hair just because they don’t want us here!”
    “White men started the custom of paying for scalps. They offered the Indians a bonus for scalps. The Indians are not the only savages on the frontier. Yesterday you saw what white men are capable of doing to their own kind. They’ve done even worse to Indian women. I advise you to give a lot of thought about staying out here, especially without a man to protect you. An unmarried woman is fair game to such as Hull Dexter and others who want a woman. You’ll be courted by every single man between sixteen and sixty within a hundred square miles.”
    “You, too?” The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them. She felt the blood rush to her face as the embarrassing words left her parted lips; but she forced herself to hold up her head, and her steady blue eyes looked directly into his eyes.
    “I’m not ready to settle down. I’ve got rivers to cross and mountains to climb. A woman would be like