Love's Gentle Journey by Kay Cornelius

Author:Kay Cornelius
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media Romance
Published: 2014-05-31T00:11:38+00:00

Chapter 10

“INDIANS…TOLLIVER STATION…killed three people…”

On her way to the market with Agnes, Ann stopped at the fringe of a knot of people gathered around a bearded man in deerskins. She had caught only a few words.

The growing crowd kept questioning him, but the trader threw up his hands and motioned toward the Blue Boar Tavern, where he had apparently been headed when the crowd stopped him. “Got to wet my whistle,” he called out. “I’ve tol’ yer all I know, anyhow.”

The trader went inside, with some of the men following, but most remained where they were, talking among themselves about the news he had brought. Agnes saw a woman she knew and asked her what had happened.

“Injun trouble,” the woman replied, and spat disdainfully. “Some hot-blood Irish out to Tolliver Station killed a brave and his squaw, for no good reason but the sport, it seems. Next day some Injuns came in and burned three cabins down the creek and took some scalps.”

“Who were they?” Ann asked.

“He didn’t say, but I sure wouldn’t want to be nowhere near that place, no siree.”

“Where is Tolliver Station?” Ann asked Agnes.

“Somewhere west o’here, on t’other side of the mountains. Don’t worry none about Injuns, though,” she added. “Here in town, yer safe as a baby in a cradle.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about,” Ann replied looking toward the tavern. ‘I think I recognized the man who was talking,” Ann said. “We met him on the trail. He might know if Father was involved. I’ve got to ask him.”

“Yer can’t go into the tavern, missy!” Agnes exclaimed.

“Then I’ll just stand here and wait until he comes out.”

“That might take all day,” said Agnes, “and yer can’t stand about here alone.”

“Then go inside with me, Agnes.”

“Mrs. Andrews would have my hide if she knew of it.”

“Well, we won’t tell her,” Ann declared, starting for the door. “I must find out if he has seen Father.”

The Blue Boar Tavern featured a high bar and plank tables and benches in a large front room, with small private dining areas in the rear, where the gentlemen of the city could do their drinking and gaming in relative privacy. The trader stood at the bar, holding a pewter tankard. Along with every other man in the place, he looked up with interest as Ann and Agnes entered.

“Well, well, here are some mighty thirsty females, for sure,” someone yelled, and there was a great deal of shuffling and laughter.

While Agnes sent glaring darts in several directions, Ann ignored everything else and walked straight to the trader. “Mr. Yancey? I believe ye may remember seeing my father with my brother and me on the road into town some few weeks back.”

The trader looked at Ann appreciatively, his eyes moving up and down in a lingering glance that brought the blood to her face. “Sure, Missy. I don’t forget no faces. It ‘pears like you’ve put on a mite o’flesh since then, eh?”

“I heard what ye said about Indian trouble at Tolliver Station.

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