Dorothy Garlock by Annie Lash Read Free Book Online Page A

stiff-handed and clumsy, as she accepted the drinking cup. A deep embarrassment spread within her, making it impossible for her to look at him. A feeling of heat crept up her throat and into her face, and she could scarcely make herself mumble, “Thank you.”
     
    *  *  *
     
    The size of the raft and the amount of goods on it were a complete surprise to Annie Lash, as were the three men who were waiting to help load the wagon. Silas Cornick and his son, Isaac, were farmers. The father, big, gangly and gray-bearded, wore a loose, homespun shirt. His trousers were held up by galluses. His son wore similar garb. He was a lean young man with a quick easy smile, a head of heavy dark hair, and eyebrows that grew together over the bridge of his nose.
    Jeff was pleasantly surprised to see the third man. They greeted each other warmly. He was dark and quiet, wore buckskins and knee-high moccasins with fringe down the sides. His hair grew well back from his broad forehead and was held behind his neck with a thong. He was slim and wiry and had about him a solitary air. Although his dark eyes roamed the edge of the forest constantly, as did Jeff’s, Annie Lash had not caught them looking directly at her. His high, prominent cheekbones and skin the color of smooth copper proclaimed the blood of his Indian ancestors, but when he spoke it was with a pronounced French accent. Jeff said his name was Lightbody, but he was called Light. He made a small stiff bow when introduced to Annie Lash.
    The raft was rectangular in shape with a platform running down the center of it so the waves that broke over the logs could not reach the goods piled on it. Annie Lash’s trunk and boxes were placed on the platform and tied down. Her rocking chair and walnut washstand were tied to the top of the canvas-covered kegs and crates that were already loaded when they arrived.
    They camped beside the river and after a meal of broiled catfish and fried cornpone, Zan fixed a place on the raft for Annie Lash to bed down for the night. He was happy to be out of Saint Louis. It was evident in the smile that stripped years from his face. He talked freely with the men, joked with Jeff, and lightly teased Annie Lash.
    “Git yoreself settled in, gal. We’re aleavin’ at first light an’ we ain’t awaitin’ fer ya.”
    Annie Lash was sure she wouldn’t sleep a wink. Isaac and Light left before dark to take the borrowed teams and wagons to the MacCartney’s. When they returned, the five men sat beside the dying campfire and talked. The murmur of low male voices was comforting. She heard Jeff laugh, and it occurred to her that he didn’t laugh often. That disturbed her somehow. Then her mind, now free of the burden it had carried since her pa died, allowed her tired body to relax and she slept a deep and dreamless sleep.
     
    *  *  *
     
    Annie Lash sat on the edge of the platform and watched Light slip off the rope holding the craft to the stake on the bank. All morning she had tried to avoid looking at Jeff, but she could often feel his eyes on her. Once her glance locked with his. In spite of her excitement and that of the others, there was no merriment in his eyes, only quiet watchfulness. He was as disturbing this morning as he had been last night and the night before. She’d had a hard time pushing him out of her mind long enough to pack her belongings, and his voice was the last thing she’d heard before she went to sleep last night. Now, she marveled at how easily he and Light moved about on the bobbing, swaying craft, and how his voice was in tune with the morning quiet as he spoke to the men.
    They traveled steadily upriver, and by sunup the bluffs were high along the edge. The trees that topped them merged into a solid wall of dark forest, their tops edging jaggedly against the sky. From her perch atop her trunk on the platform, Annie Lash watched the men toil, sweat, and maneuver the clumsy, heavily loaded craft away from the swift current