"I'm sure. I walked up and looked into the basket. It was loaded with supplies." John's eyebrow raised as he studied Wade.
The Union captain's pace slowed. He would have to be careful or John would guess his suspicions. "Why did Hunter come down here?" Wade asked, interrogating John. He could not put his finger on why, but Wade felt John was not telling everything he knew.
John shrugged. "He planned to return as soon as the war was over to visit us. Maybe he just wanted to see us before the wedding next month."
Wade knew Hunter and Jennifer planned to marry after the war, but he hadn't thought much about it. She was too much of a woman for Hunter, or for any one man. Wade had known her years ago. At the time he'd left her alone after a mild flirtation. She was more trouble than he wanted to take on. Also, Wade thought it would be fun to watch his cousin suffer after they were married. His theory about Hunter and Perry didn't make any sense, with Hunter planning to marry soon. Hunter wasn't the type to have both a wife and a mistress. Wade laughed to himself. His cousin seemed to have little to say around one woman, much less two. Unless she was a bird, any woman would have trouble talking with Hunter. His only love was flying through the air in that damn balloon.
Wade smiled warmly, transforming his manner instantly. "I think I'd best go to Philadelphia for the wedding of my only cousin." He thought for a minute before adding, "And I think I'll offer Perry's poor maid a job. With Perry gone and the old man hating the sight of Noma, maybe she'd like to stay on at my place. I haven't really had time to look for a housekeeper.''
Wade's mind was plotting as he moved away. If there ever had been anything between Hunter and Perry, surely Noma would know. Also, if there was any chance Perry was alive, she would find Noma. He would have the black woman watched, even though the odds were that it would be a waste of time.
Chapter 20
Blackness engulfed Perry's mind as she heard Molly's voice calling her.
"Perry, Perry, are you all right?"
Shaking the dizziness from her head, Perry mumbled, "I'm fine. What happened?" She tried to sit up but her body seemed to fight her.
"Stay down," Molly ordered. "I'm sorry I knocked you over so hard, but at least those varmints missed us. Remember, I told you Henry's nephews was trying to run me out. Well, for the last two nights they've been using me for target practice if I step outa my door.''
Perry crawled closer to Molly. She could feel the night air drifting in from the open doorway. They heard a muted noise outside, as if a large object had fallen to the ground, then only silence. Perry whispered, "Molly, your gun!"
"I've got it pointed at the door. Just let one of them creak a hinge and he'll be a dead man," Molly answered.
Footsteps sounded from the walkway outside. Perry rolled over, allowing Molly a clear view of the entrance. Both women held their breath as Molly's steady hand raised the gun. Perry's body tensed as she braced herself for the sound of the blast.
The moon silhouetted a man's frame as he stood in the doorway. His huge body almost covered the entrance.
Molly steadied her arm as the firelight danced across Abram's face. He froze when he saw Molly's gun pointed directly at his chest.
Shock struck Perry like lightning as she realized Molly was aiming the gun at Abram. For an instant her body refused to respond, and panic flooded her brain. Then, with the spring of a trap, she jumped in front of Molly's body. "No!" she shouted as the gun echoed around the kitchen.
The bullet grazed Perry's arm and lodged in the door frame. Perry whirled like a dancer into Abram's arms.
"No!" Molly shouted. "Get your hands off her, you killin' bastard." She stood and headed like a mad bull toward Abram. She raised the gun in her fist like a club and charged.
Perry raised her unharmed arm. "No, Molly. It's Abram. He's my friend. He brought me here."
Molly took another step forward before slowing. Once she put her bulk into motion, it was difficult to stop quickly. She stared at Abram, a skeptical look on her aging face. She'd seen the huge black man once before, but it had been dark and she'd been more worried about Perry's safety than trying to memorize the features of some man she thought she'd never see again.
Abram suddenly swung Perry up into his arms like a father carrying his frightened child. "The man you're gunning for, ma'am, is lying in your garden. I saw his gun blast and thought he hit Miss Perry when I saw her fall. I just walked up behind him. He never knew what hit him. If he's not dead, he'll have a powerful headache come morning." Abram's voice was calm, as if in mild conversation, yet his eyes were alert to Molly's actions.
"We'll worry about him later," the old woman stated, heaving her huge chest as if relieved of a heavy burden. "Bring that child over here and let me treat that arm." Molly's head nodded toward Perry as she stepped to the large kitchen table. Pulling her box of medicine from the shelf by the stove, she mumbled over and over again about how frightened she was and how sorry.
"It's only a scratch." Perry tried to smile away the pain throbbing in her arm as Abram set her in Molly's rocking chair. He stepped back and Molly began her work with trembling hands.
"I'll doctor this, then we'll find you somethin' to eat. You look like you've been on the last train to hell and back, child."
As Molly worked, Perry watched Abram nod with his head toward the door. He wanted to check on the man he'd left in the garden, but trying to get a word in between Molly's chatter was like trying to slice wet sand.
Perry smiled down at Molly. She could see the old woman's wrinkles grow deep with concern. A trembling hand gently touched her face.
"Child, what happened to your face?" Molly whispered as she pulled off Perry's hat. Her chubby fingers cupped Perry's chin as she gingerly turned her face toward the light.
"I'll explain later, Molly. First, have you got any of that wonderful cooking of yours? We've been riding all day."
"I haven't got much I'm afraid, only bread and potato soup. For over a week I've been scared to leave the kitchen for more than a minute. About a month after you left, I started seein' men hangin' around. They've been movin' closer ever day."
As Molly brought Perry up-to-date, she moved about the kitchen. She put a pot on to simmer before returning to Perry with a cool, clean cloth for her grazed arm. "We'll worry about your belly and gettin' some rest, then we'll tackle those bruises." She looked as though she might start crying. "I can't tell you how glad I was to hear your voice at my door, child."
Molly set two steaming bowls of soup on the table as Abram reappeared in the doorway.
Abram's calm voice seemed incongruous coming from his powerful, rock-hard body. "I couldn't find any sign of the man I struck. From the tracks it looks like two men, maybe three, drug him off. I followed their tracks to the far gate. After that I lost the trail in the dark. My guess is they won't be back tonight."
"Good." Molly sighed in relief. "Now you sit down and have some soup and bread. I'm plum sorry I have no finer fare."
Abram folded his large frame into the chair as he'd been told. He sat silently, eating as Perry told Molly of her escape from Three Oaks and Wade Williams. Molly listened as she worked, first reloading the pistol, then drawing a bath for Perry.
Abram stood as he swallowed his last gulp of coffee. "I have to leave for an hour. Is there anythin' you need, Miss Molly?"
Perry was proud of Abram for addressing Molly respectfully. She knew Abram's keen eye missed little. She guessed that he already knew what Molly's profession had been, just by the way the old woman talked.
"Well, if you find a store, I need food." Molly laughed, knowing there would be nowhere to buy food at this hour.
"I'll take care of the horses and bring up my bedroll. I'll sleep against your door tonight, if you have no objections."