Destination Hope - Book 5 - Reconciliation - Chapter 38

For new readers to this story, I linked Chapter 1. Chapters 2 - 4 are linked under September, 5 - 10 under October, 11 - 18 under November, 19 - 27 under December, 28 - 34 under January 2019, and 35 - 37 under February.

Destination Hope – Book 5 – Reconciliation

A Novel By:

Charles J. Patricoff

Copyright © 2014 by Charles J. Patricoff. All rights reserved.

 

Chapter 38

Trespass

Nathaniel stood his ground facing the three mounted intruders. William imitated his dad’s defiance with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. Nathaniel felt the setting sun losing warmth on his face. Several yellow, orange, and red changing leaves floated toward the ground but often lifted by a gentle breeze. One of the agitated horses nickered.  A few degrees to Nathaniel’s left, he noticed Eleanor standing just inside the front door’s threshold. 

“What brings you out here this late in the day, your Honor?” Nathaniel asked.

One of Merritt’s henchmen, Hodge, a hefty, dust-covered man with a scruffy beard and a scarred cheek, leaned to his left and spat a wad of chew on to the ground, as Jason said, “I’m sure you know.” He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and, as he retrieved its contents, said, “I tried to be reasonable with you and your wife.” He cocked his head toward the house. “But you refused to listen.” He displayed an envelope. “I have here Judge Hogan’s writ ordering you to turn over what rightfully belongs to me.” His eyes shifted in William’s direction.

“William, come in now and clean up,” Eleanor called. “Dinner is almost ready.”

William’s face turned upward toward his dad who set his gaze on the three intruders, eyes locked on Jason.

“You heard your mother, son.”

“But pa…”

“I said, go on now, son.” He emphasized his concluding word for his hostile audience more than his child.

William stepped behind Nathaniel. Head hung low, he took reluctant steps toward the house kicking at a stone, which headed for the horse to Mayor Merritt’s right. The roughneck, Hodge, reined his horse to block William’s path. William came to a halt and swiveled toward his dad. Nathaniel could see fear in William’s eyes.

Eleanor reached to her left and burst on to the front porch. She cradled a lever-action carbine in her hands and pointed it at the invaders. Hodge, the rider barring William’s way, started to pull his revolver.

“That won’t be necessary, Hodge,” Jason said. Then, with a slight jerk of his head he said to William, “Go eat your supper, son.” He shifted his glare back at Nathaniel and extended the order. “Mr. Graham, I know you are a law-abiding citizen and you will comply with this lawful order.”

Nathaniel refused to accept it.

“Suit yourself.” Jason flicked the parcel at Nathaniel’s feet. “You have three days to comply. I assume you’ll make good after our church service on Sunday?”

Nathaniel’s grip tightened on his scythe’s handle. A memory flashed of Richard Boyd jumping off a pew and tackling him in the Johnson Island Federal prison chapel. I’ve been here before, but I can’t start anything. I can’t put Eleanor and William in danger.

He said, “Sir, you and your men are not welcome here.” Taking one step forward, he straightened his posture as much as his bone-weary body tolerated. His eyes narrowed. “Get off my land.”

Jason leaned forward in his saddle. “All I want is what is rightfully mine, Graham.”

William kicked at another stone. It came to rest a few feet in front of the porch steps.

“You know I can make things much worse for you, little Rebel,” Jason said. Both henchmen snickered. “Speaking of ‘Rebels’, I hear your beloved Robert E. Lee’s health is failing—pity.”

Nathaniel saw it. The same sinister grin surfaced on Jason’s face. Eleanor tried to describe it. Now Nathaniel recognized it, resembling the one he had seen on Gene Schmidt’s face many times during the war—the face of evil.

Jason reined his horse to his right. “Come on fellas.” The three intruders of the Graham family peace walked their horses heading for Mount Hope Road. As they passed Eleanor, Jason tipped the brim of his hat and grinned. He shouted over the clopping hooves, “You wouldn’t want me taking your pitiful, little farm, too.” All three carpetbagger-reconstruction leaders of the Franklin, Tennessee community laughed.

William reached down to the ground and grabbed for his back-overalls pocket.

Nathaniel yelled, “Son, no, don’t—”

The rock released from William’s sling hit Hodge behind his left ear with crippling force. His hat flew off as his head jerked forward. His body followed, falling into the hindquarters of Jason’s horse, causing the animal to lurch, almost throwing Jason.

“William, get inside,” Eleanor shouted, throwing the carbine to her shoulder.

Merritt’s new informant and heavier henchman, Sherriff Warren, yanked his revolver, swiveled in his saddle, and aimed at the mayor’s long-time enemy and defenseless Nathaniel. Eleanor’s shot hit Warren’s right shoulder blade, causing his blast to go wide and hit the broad side of the barn. His gun fell to the dusty earth below.

Jason regained control of his startled steed and reined the animal about. He shouted, “Yaw!” and charged for Nathaniel.

William grabbed another rock.  Before he could seat it in the cuff of his sling, Eleanor grabbed the back of his collar, pulled him onto the porch, and almost threw her son into the house. “Stay in there,” she shouted. She slammed the front door and yelled through it, “Bar the door.” She turned to face the fray in time to see Jason drive his horse right into her husband, knocking Nathaniel hard to the ground. Nathaniel scrambled, slipped, and sprawled trying to reach the shovel propping open one of the barn doors.

Jason wheeled his horse for another pass. He spurred the animal and slapped it with his swagger stick.

Hodge shook his head and pushed himself up to his hands and knees. Warren clutched his wounded shoulder and raced to exact vengeance on Eleanor.

Eleanor popped the lever action. The smoking, spent brass shell casing flew to her right. She did not have time to take aim; she fired, snapped the lever, and fired again.

Warren’s jaw-crushing facial grimace indicated he would no longer be a threat. He clutched his broad belly with his left hand. His scrunched, eyes sprung open wide as if he faced a sudden, yet clear revelation. He stumbled, his right knee buckled. Warren twisted and fell lifeless to the ground, his head thumping onto the home’s first step.

Jason drove his horse in between Nathaniel and the barn. He swiped his swagger stick like a sword. Nathaniel blocked the strike with his arms, but Jason hit him with enough force to throw Nathaniel to the dirt a second time. Jason dismounted. The horse kept running toward the house’s back door. Jason grabbed the shovel. Nathaniel scrambled to retrieve his scythe.

Eleanor faced her next threat. Hodge picked up his revolver, cocked the hammer, and leveled the gun.

The shots sounded like they fired at the same time.

From inside the house, William watched the thinner and dusty henchman he clobbered with the stone drop to the earth, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of his mother dropping her rifle. Then he saw her clutch the front porch railing and drop to her knees. He screamed.

Crying, William tried to wake his mother. He almost convulsed at the sight and smell of his mother’s blood. He glanced at the battle raging in front of the barn.

Just as Nathaniel reached his feet, Jason swung the shovel smacking Nathaniel’s right side. Nathaniel gasped. His eyes rolled and he fell to the dust for a third time. Struggling to breathe, Nathaniel managed to react and roll away in time to avoid Jason’s next strike.

“You meddling preacher. You are a fool. I would have left you alone. Now, I’ll have it all.” He swung the shovel at Nathaniel’s head.

Nathaniel jerked out of the way, and the blade dug inches into the ground missing his right ear. With a spike of energy, Nathaniel rolled to his left, obtained enough footing to scramble like a dog away from Jason’s next swing.

Limping, Nathaniel entered the barn. Chickens cackled and scattered. He scanned it for anything he could use, but Jason connected with a blast to Nathaniel’s back between his shoulder blades, knocking him almost senseless deeper into the barn. He toppled to the straw covered floor.

Shadow whinnied and kicked at her stall. The hogs grunted and the goats bleated as Nathaniel rolled onto his back. The silhouetted image of Jason stepped between Nathaniel’s spread legs. Where’s Bailey?

“I warned you,” Jason growled like a mad dog. “I told you I’d come for you. Everything you wanted is gone. The woman you love is dead. The boy is mine. This farm will be mine. Where is your god now? I’ll tell you, he’s nowhere because there is no god.” Jason lifted the shovel over his head.

Through dazed vision, Nathaniel could see Jason’s muscles tense for the killing blow. He raised his hands in weakened self-defense.

A blast. Jason’s left chest exploded outward. His eyes rolled. A guttural noise escaped Jason’s mouth. The shovel dropped behind him, and his lifeless body fell on top of Nathaniel.

Nathaniel shoved Jason’s body off. William stood at the barn door. Nathaniel’s old .44 caliber Colt revolver still smoked in William’s tiny, shaking hands. Nathaniel’s eyes met William’s weepy brown orbs.

“Help mommy,” the quaking boy said.

This time, he heard that phrase from a different source: “One bullet saved your life.”

Nathaniel wobbled to his feet, then scrambled toward the porch, where his beloved lay. Using his pocketknife, he ripped away enough clothing to evaluate the wound, while protecting her modesty. Eleanor had regained consciousness, but she was disoriented. She had enough presence of mind to help confirm what Nathaniel observed. It appeared the bullet hit Eleanor’s fleshy side, in what Nathaniel called in a delicate, sheepish tone, her “meatier parts,” and passed through clean. “I won’t lie to you darling. It is a serious wound. You’ll need Doctor Pritchard to patch you up.”

Eleanor didn’t complain. “I don’t feel pain anywhere else.” She gazed at her fright-filled son, “Momma’s going to be all right.”

William kept staring at the oozing hole. His breathing rate matched his mothers.

She may not be aware of all the damage, yet. Nathaniel glanced at the possible trajectory. He felt a sense of gratitude when he found a bullet hole in one of the horizontal logs about waist-high, left of the door. Good, I don’t think I need to probe this. Nathaniel tore some more material from Eleanor’s dress to make bandages. He applied direct pressure from both sides causing great pain for both he and his wife. After about thirty minutes, Nathaniel said, “Okay, I’m going to release the pressure.”

“Oh, thank God,” Eleanor said, once the compression lifted.

Nathaniel inspected the wound. “Yes, thank the Lord. The bleeding seems to be under control. Now, I think we need to move you to a place where you can be more comfortable. It’ll be dark soon. Do you think you can make it to our bed?”

“You’re not putting me in there. I’ll get blood all over the new bed clothes.”

“But darling, I—”

Eleanor held up her right hand. “Stop. I’ll be fine right here. I just need a few minutes to rest.”

Nathaniel turned away and saw William rocking on his knees. It appeared to Nathaniel that the boy was praying. Good, he thought, then he gave his attention to Eleanor. “You need Doc Pritchard to stitch you up proper.”

Eleanor grabbed Nathaniel’s shirt. “You go. William can watch over me.”

A memory of young, Corporal Samuel Beecher flashed.  He died in that swamp outside of Fredericksburg after I promised I’d bring him help. “Are you sure?” he said.

Eleanor nodded.

Nathaniel placed light pressure to Eleanor’s wounds and said, “William, look how I’m keeping these bandages on your mother. Do you think you can do this while I run for help?”

Nathaniel could read the uncertainty in his son’s eyes as William said, “I’ll try.”

“You have to, son. And keep your mother talking. Don’t let her fall asleep. Do you understand?”

Eleanor intervened. “Go, Nate, now.”

He hated the fact that he had to leave, but what else could he do? The love of his life needed better help than he could give. He assisted William’s takeover of the bandaging job, inspected the situation, kissed Eleanor’s forehead, and raced for the barn.

He did not take any time to put a saddle on Shadow. He rode bareback as hard and as fast as she could run.

In record time Nathaniel reached Doctor Pritchard’s home, disturbing his dinner. The kind physician grasped the severity of the matter, grabbed his medical bag, and hurried to retrieve his horse and buggy. Doctor Pritchard insisted that Nathaniel report what happened while he drove out to the farm.

Nathaniel wanted to rush home, but he knew Doctor Pritchard spoke from aged wisdom. He would have to make a full report. He encouraged Shadow to gallop across the bridge to Fort Granger in search of Captain O’Brien.

Upon reaching the gate, Nathaniel yelled to the posted guard, “I need to speak with Captain O’Brien right away.”

“State your business, Mister,” the guard said pointing his carbine at Nathaniel.

“There’s been a shooting on the northwest side of town.”

“Why don’t you get the sheriff?”

“He’s one of the men shot—I think he’s dead.”

This bit of information seemed to have the desired effect. The guard yelled, “Open the gate.  Let this feller in. Somebody fetch the Captain.”

Several precious minutes passed, which Nathaniel did not have, to convince Captain O’Brien to ride out to the farm. While O’Brien and his patrol prepared to go, Nathaniel took his leave. Mounted and ready to ride, Nathaniel said, “Captain O’Brien, I know you know the way. They shot Eleanor. Doc Pritchard is on his way. I’ve got to go. Make sure she’s okay.”

After all their years of conflict, Captain Sean O’Brien made a reasonable demand. “Go,” he said.

As daylight subsided, Nathaniel rode Shadow harder and faster than his earlier race into town. He had to get home.

When Nathaniel and Shadow reached the top of the ridge, he slowed her pace so he could get a better look at what he thought he saw. Doctor Pritchard’s buggy and horse stood in front of the house, but, “Where is everyone?” He shook Shadow’s reins. “Let’s go, girl.”

Within feet of the house, Nathaniel launched off Shadow’s back and raced into the house yelling, “Ellie, William, Doc?”

“Here, Pa,” William shouted.

Nathaniel ran to the bedroom. He pushed open wide the door, slamming it against the inside wall. His jaw dropped.

Eleanor appeared to be resting comfortably as she chastised, “Don’t you ever knock first?”

Doctor Pritchard packed his medical bag, and William stared at his father while holding his mother’s hand. Eleanor smiled. Nathaniel took a deep breath and exhaled. “Thank God.”

“She’s going to be fine, Pastor,” Doctor Pritchard said. “You should be proud of your son. He took good care of his mother. I checked the wound—no fragments. So, I cleaned and stitched the injury. She’s going to be in some pain, but I’d guess she’ll be on her feet in maybe three days.”

Nathaniel smiled. He wiped dewy eyes. “Thank God.”

Nathaniel tried to walk Captain Sean O’Brien and his men through the earlier events. Nathaniel found the envelope containing Judge Hogan’s order. He picked it up and handed it to Captain O’Brien. “It all started with this. I suppose, if I would have accepted it with grace, maybe none of this would have happened.”

A pair of soldiers shooed some birds pecking at Sherriff Warren’s body. They picked it off the dusty farmyard and tossed it over the back of the sheriff’s horse. Captain O’Brien took the official court parcel and said, “You know I’ll have to arrest you and take you into custody, again?”

From where Nathaniel stood, he watched another pair of troopers drag Mayor Merritt’s carcass out of the barn. Merritt had that fixed-fright stare of eternal damnation on his face, an expression Nathaniel saw all too often during the war. I suppose he knows the truth, now.

He gazed steadily at Captain O’Brien. “I understand Captain.”

Nathaniel heard that familiar voice; “Ask him.”

“Captain, O’Brien, can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure. From what I can tell, you have a clear case of self-defense. From what your wife and boy told me, you didn’t fire a shot. You’ve proven consistent behavior all the years I’ve known you. I misjudged your wife, too. She’s a fine woman.”

“She is the favor.”

“I figured as much.”

“Captain, I promise to turn myself in just as soon as I know Ellie is going to pull through this. Doc Pritchard said she’s going to need about three days.”

“Three days to rise again. Sounds like a familiar story.” Captain O’Brien winked. “I bet you never thought I paid any attention to your preaching, huh? Well, I don’t know about me, but I’d say you’ve lived the life you harped on many times.”

Startled and confused, Nathaniel asked, “What’s that?”

“You always quoted from the Book of Proverbs, ‘Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.’  Like I said, I can’t speak for myself, but I think He has directed your paths.”

Nathaniel nodded. He had misjudged this man, too. Nathaniel wanted to pursue the conversation, but he had a more pressing need. “Do we have a deal?”

“Yeah, Pastor. Report to my office on Monday.” Captain O’Brien removed his riding glove and extended his right hand.

Nathaniel accepted the gesture of good will and the firm grip seemed to indicate friendship.

Releasing his hand, Captain O’Brien yelled to his men, “Mount up, boys. Let’s get these bodies out of here.” He removed his broad-rimmed, deep-blue hat and ran his hand through his graying hair. “You and I’ve been through a lot, Graham. I say it’s about time we treated each other like friends. Call me Sean, Nate.” A soldier guided the horse carrying the Mayor’s corpse past the two new friends. Captain O’Brien said, “I never liked that man much.” He shook his head. “Done in by a boy. Serves him right.”

Nathaniel followed Captain O’Brien to his horse. Once Captain O’Brien settled into his saddle, Nathaniel said, “I’ll see you Monday, Sean.”

“You take care of that wife and boy of yours.” He pocketed Judge Hogan’s order.

Nathaniel wanted to ask what Sean planned to do with the summons, but simply said, “I will.”

Captain O’Brien rocked a bit in his saddle. “As far as I can tell, that boy of yours saved both your lives.”

“I agree.”

Captain O’Brien came to a seated attention and snapped a perfect salute. “Good night, Nate.”

Nathaniel came to attention and returned the time-tested honor. “Good night, Captain. Thank you for all of your help in this mess.” He glanced about the farmyard and said with deep conviction, “God bless you, Sean.”

With that, Captain O’Brien commanded his troopers. “Move out.”

As the twilight darkened, Nathaniel watched Captain O’Brien and his patrol ride up the rising lane, past the family plot, and disappear over the ridge leading to Mount Hope Road.

Thanks for reading.