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

It was purely a physical interest he felt for her and that was all. The night her husband died she had seemed small and defenseless with the firelight shining on her light hair, her eyes large and sad. Yet she couldn’t have loved the man as he had loved Fawnella. Suddenly he saw the image of Fawnella’s young, sweet face, and he ground his teeth against the pain that filled him.
Fawnella.
He couldn’t seem to get used to being without her. With an effort he shifted his thoughts back to Liberty.
    She would probably marry her brother-in-law, Hammond Perry, he mused. He was ambitious, and a woman as pretty and smart as Liberty would be an asset to one who so desperately wanted to be the governor’s right hand man. The thought of Liberty and Hammond Perry together was not a pleasant one and brought a scowl to his face. Hammond was not only ambitious, he was domineering, and if Liberty wanted a man who would let her have her say, Hammond Perry was not the man. Farr shrugged. Liberty’s choice of a husband was her affair.
    His immediate problem was what to do about Mercy if Liberty wouldn’t keep her. And there was the boy, Daniel. Farr doubted he would be able to find Daniel’s kin, if he had any, so he had to find a home for him too. He tried to think of a family near his station (other than one of the Sufferites, a religious sect) who might take on an extra mouth to feed, and he couldn’t think of any who would even consider it. If the children were old enough to work they would be welcomed into a number of homes. He himself had been lucky to have his grandfather when his folks were taken with the fever. Then he had had the Carrolls, and True and Juicy, who had treated him as if he were their own son.
    The thought entered his mind that if no one had moved into the cabin old Shellenberger had left behind when he moved on west, Liberty might stay there with the children until he could make other arrangements for them. Of course, he would help feed them. He’d send down one of his two cows, and either he or young Rain Tallman would do their hunting so they’d have meat.
    Liberty’s father would be little use to her, other than to supply fish, he thought with a tinge of impatience. Elija had just given up. Suddenly remembering the man, he looked back to see him slouched in the saddle. It wasn’t the first time Farr had seen men lose their spirit and whine their lives away. If the sight of the massacred settlers the day before hadn’t shocked him out of his self-pity, nothing would.
    Farr knew he would have to send word to Vincennes about the massacre with the first boat upriver, but he had little hope that the murderers would be brought to justice. In a week’s time they would have taken the stock downriver and sold it to some unsuspecting traveler going into Missouri or Arkansas. Hull Dexter would have his own story to tell, but Farr would deal with that bastard if he ever got his hands on him.
    As soon as he got Liberty and the children to the station, he’d go back for her wagon and the oxen if they were still there. She had hated leaving her possessions behind, but she hadn’t complained about it. A gentle smile softened Farr’s usually grim mouth, taking years from his face and leaving him looking as vulnerable as a callow lad.
     
    *  *  *
     
    By the time full daylight arrived, Liberty was desperately in need of going to the bushes. Daniel had slept so soundly that he had wet, soaking the front of her dress. Poor little tyke. He had been in such a state and had clung to her all night long. He was a big, sturdy child and at least a couple of years older than Mercy. Liberty remembered his running and playing and chattering happily. She wondered if the sight of his mother, her skirts around her waist, lying spread-eagled on the ground, would stay in his memory forever. She hoped and prayed he wasn’t aware of the indignities she suffered before she died.
    They stopped beside another stream, and Farr came to