Will O Wisp Page 10

  “I won't go in the timber, Aunt Melinda. The strawberry patch is near the pond. With a mite of luck, I should be fine,” Shana said.

  “She will be all right, and the berries are ready to pick. I told her you might know how to make a shortcake if we brought you the strawberries,” Gracie said. “But, girl, you keep an eye peeled. If you see anything that worries you, hightail it for the house as fast as you can.”

  “Yes, ma'am,” Shana said. “She picked out a blue granite kettle and left.

  “How's it going with the girl?” Millard asked.

  “She seems to be enjoying herself here with the two of us,” Melinda said. “Shana minds well enough. She just can be easily influenced by others without thinking about getting in trouble. That comes from being on her own so long in the slums of New York. She had to fight to stay alive. Poor dear.”

  “The girl's turning as brown as an Indian,” Gracie added. “Speaking of Indians, have you seen any in the timber around you, Millard?”

  “Nope, but I heard from Junior Singleton that they were down his way in his timber,” Millard told her.

  “Strange that they're staying so far away from here,” Gracie said. “It makes me wonder if they know what's happening in my timber. I believe I should hunt Black Eagle up, and find out if he knows what's going on.”

  “If you plan on doing that, I best go with you. You shouldn't go looking for Indians by yourself,” Millard said.

  “I can take care of myself,” Gracie barked.

  “I'm going with you,” Millard said determinedly. “Want to go right now?”

  “Yip,” Gracie said.

  “I'll hook your buggy up,” Millard said. “We can drive down by the Singleton farm and walk into his timber.”

  Gracie paced the floor, thinking about the past few days.

  Melinda said, “You should settle down, Gracie.”

  “I have a feeling trouble is coming worse than the small things we've been seeing. They're just signs. I just wish I knew how bad the trouble was going to be,” Gracie said, looking at Melinda.

  “Oh, Gracie, if trouble is coming our way it will get here on its own good time. No use you sending a search party out looking for it,” Melinda said.

  “You telling me I shouldn't try to hunt up Black Eagle and his tribe?” Gracie asked.

  “I can't see that they know anything about what's going on around here. The only good thing I can see out of the whole experience will be you've had an excuse to go on a nice ride with Millard,” Melinda said, grinning.

  “You want to go along with us and chaperone?”

  “Not on your life. You're old enough to take care of yourself,” Melinda said and giggled.

  Millard pulled the buggy up by the house. He came to the back door and called in, “I'm ready to go.”

  “I got to go,” Gracie said shortly and slammed the screen door on her way out.

  While Millard waited for Gracie to get in, he focused on the clothesline with a grin on his face. Gracie's face heated up when she noticed what was so interesting to Millard. Something men didn't get to see very often. Shana hung the unmentionables on the first line in plain sight. Gracie made a mental note to have Melinda give Shana a lesson in how to be discreet when she hung up their underwear. She should always use the middle line so the unmentionables were hidden behind the dresses.

  “Does Miss Melinda want to go with us?” Millard asked, coming to help her get in the buggy.

  “She said she didn't. She's going to stay here and work on supper. Besides, we both shouldn't leave the girl by herself.” She climbed into the buggy before Millard could get there to help her.

  After he started down the lane, Millard looked down at the hole in the buggy side. “I thought you were in Locked Rock for church Sunday?”

  “We were,” Gracie said.

  “Why didn't you take the buggy back to the livery stable and exchange it for another one?”

  “I don't much care to face Jake at the livery stable and try to explain what happened to his buggy. Besides, with my luck, I'll probably have something worse happen to the buggy before the month is out. I might as well damage just one buggy rather than two. No telling what Jake is going to charge me for that hole,” Gracie complained.

  “He shouldn't make you pay for something you couldn't help. If you want, I'll go with you when you talk to him. With an eye witness to the deer's head stuck in the hole, he has to believe this damage isn't your fault,” Millard said.

  “That might help,” Gracie said. “Thanks for the offer.”

  Chapter Eleven

  At first, they traveled in silence. Gracie looked everywhere but at Millard.

  Finally, he sighed loudly. That got her attention.

  “What's that all about?” Gracie asked, glancing at him sideways.

  “I was just thinking about what a waste it is with you living in town alone and me out at my place alone. It would be so much better for both of us if you'd give in and marry me,” Millard said.

  Gracie shrugged. “That's just your opinion.”

  “Listening to the tone of your voice, I don't believe I want to hear your opinion,” Millard said dryly. “But think about this. If you lived out here with me, we could go by your farm all the time. Check on the cemetery and keep the weeds out of it. We'd be able to watch for anything else going on at the farm that shouldn't be.”

  “There does seem to be more crooked people in the county now then honest ones,” Gracie contemplated. “As for keeping an eye on my place, the Sawyers are good at that. Sooner or later, Thad would have noticed the strange goings on in the timber and investigated. You might as well change the subject now. I've heard this one long enough.”

  Millard ran his fingers up and down the lines. “Fine, but just so you know, I'm not giving up on you, Gracie. Not by a long shot.”

  Gracie shrugged and looked off to the side of the road. Old gal, keep your eyes on that cornfield of Singleton's. Don't look at Millard's wistful, pup dog eyes, or you'll give in. “Fine, and just so you know my answer is always going to be the same.”

  Millard parked by the Singleton house. “We better tell Junior what we're doing, wandering around his farm and all. He might try to take a shot at us for trespassing.”

  “Good idea,” Gracie said.

  They walked toward the house, hearing thump, thump, scarp, scrap coming from the barn. Millard looked past the house. “I'd say Junior is cleaning out his barn. His manure spreader and horses are parked by the side door.”

  While they walked that direction, a big fork full of manure and straw bedding flew out of the door and plunked onto the half full spreader.

  “Guess we're going to have to interrupt Junior,” Gracie surmised.

  “Reckon so,” Millard agreed.

  When they neared the barn, Junior stuck his head out with another big fork full of manure and aimed it at the spreader. He unloaded the fork. As he turned, he spotted he had company. Junior leaned the pitch fork against the barn door and stepped out into the sun light. The heavy set man ran his hand around to his overall back pocket and took out his blue hanky. He wiped his sweaty forehead.

  “By golly, here comes a likely pair of mischief makers if I ever saw any,” Junior joked. “What are you two up to now?”

  “Just stopped by to ask if it would be all right if Miss Gracie and I walk in your timber for a spell. We didn't want to do that without asking,” Millard said.

  “Ah, it's all right with me, but what are you looking for? If it's mushrooms, you might be too late. I've seen several lookers out there already,” Junior said.

  “We're looking for Black Eagle and his Indians,” Gracie said.

  “What has that bunch been up to now? A fellow a few miles over said he's missing two pigs. He thinks those thieving Indians got them,” Junior said.

  “I don't know about any stolen pigs,” Gracie said. “Those Indians have always been honest when they come to my farm. They just hunt and fish.”

 
Junior leaned his head over his shoulder and studied Gracie. “What you want to talk to them for then?”

  “Have you seen the Indians in your timber lately?” Millard countered.

  “Yeah, they have been. I should know. I make a point to keep my eyes on them just so I know what they're doing. Of course, at night I can't tell what's going on when I'm sleeping. They're good at slipping around all sneaky like,” Junior said. “Now you didn't answer me. What you want to talk to the Indians about?”

  “I heard from Thad Sawyer Black Eagle's bunch was in the timber on my farm, but they disappeared,” Gracie said. “Just seemed strange to me they would do that. Black Eagle has always been straight with me. I thought I'd ask him if something was going on we didn't know about,” Gracie explained.

  “Well, you're welcome to find the Indians in my timber on one condition. If you get a straight answer from that Indian, you stop back by and let me know if it's something the farmers around here should know about,” Junior said.

  “I'll do that, but what I want to know only pertains to my farm,” Gracie said.

  “Mind telling me what's going on?” Junior asked.

  “I don't mind. Someone dug in my family cemetery recently. It looks to be a grave small enough to be a baby. You haven't heard of a baby or small child dying in this area have you?” Gracie asked.

  Junior rubbed his chin, thinking. “No, I haven't, but you might stop by the house and ask Sara. She hears more of that kind of talk from the women at church. If a woman had such bad luck that we weren't close to, Sara might not think to tell me.”

  “Well, we better let you get back to work,” Millard said with a grin. “If we keep you too long, you just might be putting a pitch fork in our hands.”

  Junior cackled. Then he had a sudden thought. “Miss Gracie, you don't think that grave is an Indian baby do you?”

  “No, I don't. Black Eagle's people would take one of their own back to the settlement Indian burial grounds. This baby would be white if that's even what is in the spot. I want to find out who would do such a thing without asking

  me first. That's a personal cemetery. Thanks for your time, Junior.” Gracie said.

  When they were close to the house, Gracie said, “You stay with the buggy, Millard. Most women don't want to talk about such things as miscarriages or expecting women with men around.”

  Gracie knocked on the house door. Sara answered, and Gracie talked to her a minute. Her face held a blank look when she climbed in the buggy.

  “Well?” Millard asked.

  “Sara wasn't any help atall. She didn't know of any woman in the area that was expecting.”

  Millard drove the buggy in to the pasture that bordered the timber. “This is where I saw some Indians last week myself. They're living near the Iowa River that runs on the back side of the timber. You up for a walk? Or you want me to find Black Eagle, and bring him here to talk to you?”

  “I'll go along with you. I know Black Eagle will come out of hiding to talk to me. I'm not so sure he trusts you enough to talk to you,” Gracie said bluntly.

  Millard and Gracie tromped through the timber, watching for movement among the trees. Suddenly, a tall Indian stepped out in front of them. “You lost, Gracie?”

  “Not yet, Black Eagle. I've been looking for you,” Gracie replied.

  “Why?”

  “Mr. Sokal said he saw you and members of the tribe living in this timber. Thad Sawyer said you were on my farm earlier. I hadn't seen you. I thought it was strange you left. It seemed sudden like. I just wondered why?”

  “We was in your timber, but we left after spirits came,” Black Eagle said.

  “What did the spirits look like?” Millard asked.

  “The color of snow. This many of them.” He held up two fingers. “The tall squaw we saw from a distance. Her back always turned to us. Small one we saw other times. The others said they wouldn't live near there until the spirits left for the happy hunting grounds.”

  “I see. Just so you know, we will see what we can do to drive the spirits out of my timber so you can come and go when you want,” Gracie told Black Eagle.

  “Humm, that be good,” he said.

  “How's your wife, Rainwater, and the little one, Eagle Claw?” Gracie asked.

  “They good. Little one will have a brother or sister by next winter,” Black Eagle said proudly.

  “Great news. Good luck to you,” Gracie said. “We found what we came to find out. We'll let you get back to hunting.”

  Back at Three Oaks, Millard stopped by the house to let Gracie out. May Jean was sitting on the porch with Shana. Gracie climbed out of the buggy and went to them.

  “May Jean where did you come from?”

  “She walked out of the timber and saw me picking berries so she helped me get the bowl full,” Shana said. “We got the leaves off the berries. Now Aunt Melinda is working on them and bakin' a cake. We'll have strawberry short cake for supper.”

  Gracie kept her eyes on May Jean. “Does your mother know you're over here, girl?”

  “I told her that's where I was going,” the girl said.

  “How long you staying?” Gracie asked abruptly.

  “A day or two maybe,” May Jean said.

  “ Come on, May Jean. We'll get the bucket and gather the eggs,” Shana said.

  In a few minutes, the girls came running from the back side the chicken house and bumped into Millard, getting ready to leave.

  “Whoa, girls. What's the hurry?”

  “There's a snake stuck in the chicken coop with the sitting hen. His head is stickin' out a hole in back, but he can't get out. The rest of him is too fat,” Shana said.

  “Show me where?” Millard said.

  Gracie and Melinda came out on the porch when they heard the excited voices. Gracie followed after them to see what the problem was.

  Millard came to meet them. “I wouldn't be looking for any baby chicks, Gracie. A black snake ate all the eggs or chicks as they were hatching. He's so full he can't get back out of the coop through the hole he crawled in.”

  The hen was putting up a real cackling fuss.

  “Open the door and let the hen out. Maybe we can jerk that snake out by his tail. We can knock him in the head when he's clear of the coop,” Gracie said.

  Millard said, “Good idea. You let the hen out while I go get a hoe to hit the snake with.”

  The frightened hen cackled when Gracie opened the door. She had to stand back and let the hen come out on her own. The hen flew out and landed a few feet away. She took off running into the flock, stirring up all the chickens, causing them to squawk loudly.

  Gracie leaned down where she could see in the coop. The snake's back end twitched sideways as he tried to squeeze out the back of the coop.

  Millard came back with the hoe. “You ready, Gracie?”

  “Yip.” Gracie bent over the opening, looking in again.

  “You sure you want to do this. I could pull the snake out, and you hit him,” Millard offered.

  “Nope, this is fine with me. You probably have better aim than I do. The snake will be squirming around,” Gracie said.

  She reached in the coop, took a good grip on the slick tail of the bullsnake and jerked. The snake's head came lose from the back of the coop. The whole body jerked out of the coop and landed at Millard's feet. He backed up, raised the hoe and socked the snake's head. That stunned the snake. With a few more blows, the snake was headless.

  Gracie let out a long breath. “I'm sure glad that's over.”

  Millard smiled at her. “We make a pretty good team, Gracie.”

  Gracie studied him a moment. “Yip, if you're talking about killing snakes. I cain't think of any other reason we would be compatible.”

  After Millard left, Shana and May Jean gathered the eggs while Gracie walked to the pasture after the cows. Shana carried the egg bucket into the pantry while Melinda was busy in the kitchen. She whispered, “I hate to see the mother hen without babes. May
be we can hatch her out some more chicks.”

  “How?” May Jean asked. “That hen won't go back to the coop now. She's too scared.”

  “We can hatch them for her. Take three eggs, and I'll carry three. Come with me,” Shana said.

  They slipped past Melinda and went to the bedroom. Shana opened the closet door and threw back part of a stack of quilts. She gently laid her eggs down in the middle of a quilt. “Now lay yer eggs by mine.” As soon as May Jean had her eggs in place, Shana covered the eggs with the rest of the quilts. “Now we wait.”

  “That all you going to do and wait for them eggs to hatch?” May Jean asked.

  “For certain, wait is all the hen does. The eggs are in a warm place in the dark just like under the hen. Is that not so?”

  May Jean looked doubtful. “Yes, but I'm not sure this will work.”

  Gracie tried calling the cow so she wouldn't have to go after her, but Clara turned a deaf ear. On the way back to the barn, Gracie was busy chewing out the cow when she should have been watching where she walked. She felt her right foot sink out from under her. Next thing she knew, she was flat on her face.

  A flash of pain ran up her leg from her ankle. She rolled over and managed to sit up. She raised her skirt and looked at her knees. They were raw from loss of skin and bruised. Her right ankle was a worse problem. It was swollen to twice its size. Gracie tried to stand and found it was too painful to put weight on her foot. She sank back down and stared at Clara, calmly chewing her cud and wondering what the hold up with Gracie was.

  When Shana and May Jean went to the barn to look for eggs, Shana thought she'd find Gracie milking. It wasn't right to see an empty barn. “May Jean, Aunt Gracie should be milking by now. Wonder if she had trouble with the cow? We better look in the pasture.”

  It didn't take long to spot the cow in the open, looking around. Shana and May Jean ran toward her. When they got close, they saw Gracie sitting on the ground, holding her leg and groaning.

  “What happened?” Shana said, kneeling beside her.

  “My foot got stuck in a fox hole I didn't see.” Gracie pointed to the caved in dirt beside her. “I twisted my ankle, and it's swelling up. Now I can't stand on it.”