Free Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] by Lonesome River Page A

a millstone around my neck.” His tone was light, but he did not smile. His words irritated her.
    “I’m not looking for a man to protect me. More than likely I’d have to protect
him.
If ever I marry again it will be to a settled man, a providing man, one who wants to share
my
life, not one who goes off chasing rainbows. I’ll walk beside him, not behind him, and I’ll have my
say
!” Liberty held her head high with a kind of necessary dignity because he was looking at her with an air that said he was amused by her declaration. Her soft mouth was set stubbornly and her eyes dared him to deny her right.
    “I bet you will!” A deep chuckle escaped Farr and his wide lips spread in a grin.
    A wave of anger washed over Liberty. He was making fun of her! He was just like the rest of the conceited asses that thought women were good enough for drudges but were too stupid to voice an opinion. She wanted to kick him, to wipe that smirk off his face, to tell him that her brain was every bit as good as his. She wanted to make him admit she
was
a person of worth.
    “Don’t you dare laugh at me, you . . . you backwoods, mountain-climbing river-crosser!”
    His deep chuckle escalated into soft but full-blown laughter.
    “I wasn’t laughing at you, Liberty. I was laughing at something my Indian friend told me. He said white woman’s mouth open all the time. You beat—she shut it.”
    “So they beat their women too! I’m not surprised,” she said with a look of indignation on her face. She thrust her chin out at a defiant angle. Her back was up,
good.
He would have known it even if she had not shot him the withering look.
    “Only when they need it. Come on, let’s get back. I want to sit for a while before we go on.”
     
    *  *  *
     
    The night had passed slowly for Farr, and he welcomed the rising sun when it broke over the eastern hills and poured a radiance upon the trail. He led the party at a steady pace along a familiar path, one he had used many times. The land was more open here. They had made better time than he had anticipated. He figured they should be at the station by the middle of the morning.
    He glanced back to see Liberty sitting erect in the saddle, the child in her arms and her sister sleeping against her back. She was a strong woman; strong and gutsy. Maybe too gutsy for her own good, he reflected uneasily. She had held herself together at a time when it was difficult even for him to do what had to be done, and he had seen violent death many times. Damned if he could think of another white woman who would have done half as well.
    More likely than not she would see worse if she stayed in Indian country, he thought grimly. Without a doubt war would be breaking out soon. All along the frontier there had been acts of violence. British agents were providing the Indians with arms and ammunition. Tenskwatawa, the Shawnee chief known as the Prophet, was stirring up superstitions among all the tribes, and his brother, Tecumseh, was calling for a military alliance among the tribes, urging them to stop giving up their land and drive the white settlers out of the country.
    Farr was eager to get home so he could start building a stockade at his station to protect the settlers in his area. It would take several months of hard work even with the help of a man from each family. Governor Harrison had confided to him that the settlers all along the Wabash were in danger from Tecumseh’s warriors and from the British to the north. Harrison was careful to explain that no soldiers would be garrisoned at Quill’s Station. It was up to the settlers to band together and prepare to protect themselves from an all out Indian attack. But for now he had to concentrate on getting Liberty and the children to the station.
    It was painful to admit it, but when he held her soft body in his arms he had felt a surge of longing for a woman’s love. Maybe he just needed a woman, he thought bitterly, a woman’s body, not her love.