A Place Called Freedom Page 37

  She said the first name that came into her head. "Angus ... Angus James."

  Baz frowned. "That's funny. I thought I knew everyone in Staunton, but I don't recognize that name."

  Lizzie improvised. "It may be that his farm is some way from town--I've never been there."

  The sound of hoofbeats came from outside. Lizzie thought of Jay. Could he have caught up with them so soon? The sound made Mack uneasy too, and he said: "If we want to make Staunton by nightfall ..."

  "We don't have time to linger," Lizzie finished. She emptied her tankard.

  "You've hardly wet your throats," Baz said. "Drink another cup."

  "No," Lizzie said decisively. She took out her pocketbook. "Let me pay you."

  Two men walked in, blinking in the dim light. They appeared to be local people: both were dressed in buckskin trousers and homemade boots. Out of the corner of her eye Lizzie saw Peg give a start, then turn her back on the newcomers, as if she did not want them to see her face.

  One of them spoke cheerily. "Hello, strangers!" He was an ugly man with a broken nose and one closed eye. "I'm Chris Dobbs, known as Deadeye Dobbo. A pleasure to meet you. What news from the East? Them burgesses still spending our taxes on new palaces and fancy dinners? Let me buy you a drink. Rum all round, please, Baz."

  "We're leaving," Lizzie said. "Thanks all the same."

  Dobbo looked more closely at her and said: "A woman in buckskin pants!"

  She ignored him and said: "Good-bye, Baz--and thanks for the information."

  Mack went out and Lizzie and Peg moved to the door. Dobbs looked at Peg and registered surprise. "I know you," he said. "I've seen you with Burgo Marler, God rest his soul."

  "Never heard of him," Peg said boldly, and walked past.

  In the next second the man drew the logical conclusion. "Jesus Christ, you must be the little bitch that killed him!"

  "Wait a minute," Lizzie said. She wished Mack had not gone out so quickly. "I don't know what crazy idea you've got into your head, Mr. Dobbs, but Jenny has been a maid in my family since she was ten years old and she's never met anyone called Burgo Marler, let alone killed him."

  He was not to be put off so easily. "Her name isn't Jenny, though it's something like that: Betty, or Milly, or Peggy. That's it--she's Peggy Knapp."

  Lizzie felt sick with fear.

  Dobbs turned to his companion for support. "Ain't it her, now?"

  The other man shrugged. "I never saw Burgo's convict more than a time or two, and one little girl looks much the same as another," he said dubiously.

  Baz said: "She fits the description in the Virginia Gazette, though." He reached under the counter and came up with a musket.

  Lizzie's fear went away and she felt angry. "I hope you aren't thinking of threatening me, Barney Tobold," she said, and her voice surprised her by its strength.

  He replied: "Maybe you should all stay around while we get a message to the sheriff in Staunton. He feels bad about not catching Burgo's murderer. I know he'll want to check your story."

  "I'm not going to wait around while you find out you're mistaken."

  He leveled the gun at her. "I think you're going to have to."

  "Let me explain something to you. I'm walking out of here with this child, and there's only one thing you need to know: if you shoot the wife of a wealthy Virginian gentleman, no excuse on earth is going to keep you from the gallows." She put her hands on Peg's shoulders, stepped between her and the gun, and pushed her forward.

  Baz cocked the flintlock with a deafening click.

  Peg twitched under Lizzie's hands, and Lizzie tightened her grip, sensing the girl wanted to break into a run.

  It was three yards to the door but they seemed to take an hour to get there.

  No shot rang out.

  Lizzie felt sunshine on her face.

  She could contain herself no longer. Shoving Peg forward she began to run.

  Mack was already in the saddle. Peg jumped up on the seat of the wagon and Lizzie followed.

  "What happened?" Mack said. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

  "Let's get out of here!" Lizzie said, snapping the reins. "That one-eyed fellow recognized Peg!" She turned the wagon to the east. If they headed for Staunton they would first have to ford the river, which would take too long, and then they would be riding into the sheriff's arms. They had to go back the way they had come.

  Looking over her shoulder she saw the three men in the tavern doorway, Baz still holding the musket. She whipped the horses into a trot.

  Baz did not shoot.

  A few seconds later they were out of range.

  "By God," Lizzie said gratefully. "That was a nasty moment."

  The road turned a corner into the woods and they passed out of sight of the tavern. After a while Lizzie slowed the horses to a walk. Mack brought his horse alongside. "We forgot to buy oats," he said.

  Mack was relieved to escape but he regretted Lizzie's decision to turn back. They should have forded the river and gone on. Staunton was obviously where Burgo Marler's farm was, but they could have found a side trail around the town, or slipped through at night. However, he did not criticize her, for she had been forced to make an instant decision.

  They stopped where they had made camp the night before, at the place where Three Notch Trail was crossed by a side trail. They drove the wagon off the main road and concealed it in the woods: they were now fugitives from justice.

  Mack looked at his map and decided they would have to go back to Charlottesville and take the Seminole Trail south. They could turn west again after a day or two without coming within fifty miles of Staunton.

  However, in the morning it occurred to Mack that Dobbs might be heading for Charlottesville. He could have passed by their hidden campsite after dark and reached the town ahead of them. He told Lizzie of his worry, and proposed riding into Charlottesville alone to check that the coast was clear. She agreed.

  He rode hard and reached the town before sunrise. He slowed his horse to a walk as he approached the first house. The place was quiet: nothing was moving but an old dog scratching itself in the middle of the road. The door of the Swan tavern was open, and smoke came from its chimney. Mack dismounted and tied his horse to a bush, then cautiously approached the tavern.

  There was no one in the bar.

  Perhaps Dobbs and his sidekick had been heading the other way, toward Staunton.

  A mouthwatering smell was coming from somewhere. He went around to the back and saw a middle-aged woman frying bacon. "I need to buy oats," he said.

  Without looking up from her work she said, "There's a store opposite the courthouse."

  "Thanks. Have you seen Deadeye Dobbs?"

  "Who the hell is he?"

  "Never mind."

  "Would you like some breakfast before you go?"

  "No thanks--I wish I had time."

  Leaving his horse, he went up the hill to the wooden courthouse. Across the square was a smaller building with a roughly painted sign saying "Seed Merchant." It was locked up, but in an outhouse at the back he found a half-dressed man shaving. "I need to buy oats," he said again.

  "And I need a shave."

  "I'm not going to wait. Sell me two sacks of oats now or I'll get them at the South River ford."

  Grumbling, the man wiped his face and led Mack into the store.

  "Any strangers in town?" Mack asked him.

  "You," he replied.

  It seemed Dobbs had not come here last night.

  Mack paid with Lizzie's money and took the two big sacks on his back. When he went outside he heard hooves and looked up to see three horsemen riding in from the east, going fast.

  His heart skipped a beat.

  "Friends of yours?" said the seed merchant.

  "No."

  He hurried down the hill. The riders pulled up at the Swan. Mack slowed his pace as he approached and tipped his hat down over his eyes. As they dismounted he studied their faces.

  One
of them was Jay Jamisson.

  Mack cursed under his breath. Jay had almost caught up, thanks to yesterday's trouble at South River.

  Luckily Mack had been cautious, and as a result he was forewarned. Now he had to reach his horse and get away without being seen.

  Suddenly he realized that "his" horse had been stolen from Jay, and it was roped to a bush not three yards away from where Jay now stood.

  Jay loved his horses. If he gave this one a glance he would recognize it as his own. And he would know in a flash that the runaways were nearby.

  Mack stepped over a broken fence into an overgrown lot and watched through a screen of bushes. Lennox was with Jay, and there was another man he did not recognize. Lennox tied up his mount next to Mack's, partly masking the stolen horse from Jay's view. Lennox had no love of horses and would not recognize the beast. Jay tied up next to Lennox. Go inside, go inside! Mack shouted in his head, but Jay turned and said something to Lennox. Lennox replied, and the other man laughed coarsely. A drop of sweat rolled down Mack's forehead and into his eye, and he blinked it away. When his vision cleared the three were walking into the Swan.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. But it was not over yet.

  He came out of the bushes, still bent under the weight of two sacks of oats, and walked quickly across the road to the tavern. He transferred the sacks to the horse.

  He heard someone behind him.

  He did not dare to look around. He put one foot in the stirrup, then a voice said: "Hey--you!"

  Slowly, Mack turned. The speaker was the stranger. He took a deep breath and said: "What?"

  "We want breakfast."

  "See the woman out back." Mack mounted his horse.

  "Hey."

  "What now?"

  "Has a four-horse wagon passed through here with a woman, a girl and a man?"

  Mack pretended to think. "Not lately," he said. He kicked his horse and rode off.

  He did not dare to look back.

  A minute later he had left the town behind.

  He was anxious to get back to Lizzie and Peg, but he was forced to go more slowly because of the weight of the oats, and the sun was warm by the time he reached the crossing. He turned off the road and down the side trail to the hidden campsite. "Jay is in Charlottesville," he said as soon as he saw Lizzie.

  She paled. "So close!"

  "He'll probably follow Three Notch Trail across the mountains later today. But as soon as he reaches the South River ford he'll find out that we turned back. That will put him only a day and a half behind us. Weil have to abandon the wagon."

  "And all our supplies!"

  "Most of them. We have three spare horses: we can take whatever they will carry." Mack looked along the narrow trail leading south from the camp. "Instead of going back to Charlottesville we could try taking this track south. It probably cuts a corner and meets up with the Seminole Trail a few miles out of town. And it looks passable for horses."

  Lizzie was not the type to whine. Her mouth set in a determined line. "All right," she said grimly. "Let's start unloading."

  They had to abandon the plowshare, Lizzie's trunk full of warm underwear, and some of the cornmeal, but they managed to keep the guns, the tools and the seed. They roped the pack horses together then mounted up.

  By midmorning they were on their way.

  38

  FOR THREE DAYS THEY FOLLOWED THE PRIMEVAL SEMINOLE Trail southwest, through a majestic series of valleys and passes that wound between lush forested mountains. They passed isolated farms, but they saw few people and no towns. They rode three abreast, the pack horses following in a line. Mack became saddle-sore, but despite that he felt exhilarated. The mountains were magnificent, the sun was shining, and he was a free man.

  On the morning of the fourth day they breasted a rise and saw, in the valley below, a wide brown river with a series of midstream islands. On the far bank was a cluster of wooden buildings. A broad flat-bottomed ferry boat was tied up at a jetty.

  Mack reined in. "My guess is that this is the James River, and that settlement is a place called Lynch's Ferry."

  Lizzie guessed what he was thinking. "You want to turn west again."

  He nodded. "We've seen almost nobody for three days--Jay will have trouble picking up our scent. But if we cross that ferry we'll meet the ferryman, and it might be hard to avoid the tavern keeper, the storekeeper and all the local busybodies."

  "Good thinking," Lizzie said. "If we get off the road here he won't be able to figure out which way we've gone."

  Mack looked at his map. "The valley climbs to the northwest and leads to a pass. Beyond the pass we should be able to join the trail that runs southwest from Staunton."

  "Good."

  Mack smiled at Peg, who was silent and indifferent. "Are you in agreement?" he said, trying to bring her into the decision.

  "Whatever you want," she said.

  She seemed unhappy, and Mack assumed it was because she was frightened of being caught. She must be tired, too: sometimes he forgot that she was so small. "Cheer up," he said. "We're escaping!" She looked away. He exchanged glances with Lizzie, who made a helpless gesture.

  They turned off the trail at an angle and went down through sloping woodland to reach the river half a mile or so upstream from the settlement. Mack thought they probably had not been observed.

  A flat track ran west along the bank for several miles. Then it turned away from the river, skirting a range of hills. The going was hard, and they frequently had to dismount and lead the horses up stony rises, but Mack never lost the intoxicating feeling of freedom.

  They ended the day beside a fast-running mountain stream. Lizzie shot a small deer that came to drink from a rocky pool. Mack butchered it and made a spit to roast a haunch. Leaving Peg to watch the fire he went to wash his bloodstained hands.

  He made his way downstream to where a small waterfall dropped into a deep pool. He knelt on a ledge and washed his hands in the falling water. Then he decided to bathe, and took off all his clothes. He stepped out of his breeches and looked up to see Lizzie.

  "Every time I take off my clothes and jump in a river--"

  "You find me watching!"

  They both laughed.

  "Come and bathe with me," he said.

  His heart beat faster as she stripped. He gazed lovingly at her body. She stood naked in front of him with a what-the-hell expression on her face. They embraced and kissed.

  When they paused for breath he was struck by a foolish notion. He looked down at the deep pool ten feet below and said: "Let's jump."

  "No!" she said. Then she said: "All right!"

  They held hands, stood at the edge of the shelf, and jumped, laughing helplessly. They hit the water holding hands. Mack went under and let go of Lizzie. When he surfaced he saw her a few feet away, snorting and blowing and laughing at the same time. Together they swam toward the bank until they felt the riverbed below their feet, then they stopped to rest.

  Mack drew her to him. With a thrill of excitement he felt her bare thighs against his. He did not want to kiss her now, he wanted to look at her face. He stroked her hips. Her hand closed around his stiff penis, and she looked into his eyes and smiled happily. He felt as if he would explode.

  She put her arms around his neck and lifted her legs so that her thighs squeezed his waist. He settled his feet firmly on the riverbed and took her weight. He lifted her a fraction. She wriggled a little and settled on him. He slid inside her as easily as if they had been practicing for years.

  After the cold water her flesh was like hot oil on his skin. Suddenly he felt as if he were in a dream. He was making love to Lady Hallim's daughter in a waterfall in Virginia: how could it be real?

  She put her tongue in his mouth and he sucked it. She giggled, then her face became serious again, and a look of concentration came over her. She pulled on his neck, lifting herself, then let her body sink down again, repeatedly. She groaned deep in her throat and half closed her eyes. He wat
ched her face, mesmerized.

  Out of the corner of his eyes he saw something move on the bank. He turned his head and glimpsed a flash of color, then it was gone. Someone had been watching. Had Peg stumbled on them accidentally, or was it a stranger? He knew he should worry, but Lizzie moaned louder, and the thought left his mind. She began to cry out, her thighs squeezed him in a rhythm that went faster and faster, then she crushed her body to his and screamed, and he held her tight and shook with passion until he was drained.

  When they returned to the campsite Peg was gone.

  Mack had a bad feeling. "I thought I saw someone, down by the pool, when we were making love. It was just a glimpse, and I couldn't even tell whether it was a man, woman or child."

  "I'm sure it was Peg," Lizzie said. "I think she's run off."

  Mack narrowed his eyes. "What makes you so sure?"

  "She's jealous of me because you love me."

  "What?"

  "She loves you, Mack. She told me she was going to marry you. Of course it's just a girlish fantasy, but she doesn't know that. She's been miserable for days, and I think she saw us making love and ran away."

  Mack had a dreadful feeling this was true. He imagined how Peg felt and the thought was agonizing. Now that poor child was wandering alone in the mountains at night. "Oh, God, what are we going to do?" he said.

  "Look for her."

  "Aye." Mack shook himself. "At least she hasn't taken a horse. She can't have gone far. We'll search together. Let's make torches. She's probably gone back the way we came. Weil find her asleep under a bush, I'll bet."

  They searched all night.

  They backtracked for hours, shining their lights into the woods on either side of the winding trail. Then they returned to their camp, made new torches, and followed the stream up the mountainside, scrambling over rocks. There was no sign of her.

  At dawn they ate some of the venison haunch, loaded their supplies on the horses, and went on.

  It was possible she had gone west, and Mack hoped they would stumble on her on the track, but all that morning they walked without finding her.

  At midday they came upon another trail. It was just a dirt road, but it was wider than a wagon and there were hoof marks in the mud. It ran from northeast to southwest, and in the distance beyond it they could see a range of majestic mountains rising into the blue sky.

  This was the road they had been searching for, the way to the Cumberland Gap.

  With heavy hearts, they turned southwest and rode on.