catch himself if he fell.
Those efforts made his legs ache almost intolerably, but he welcomed the pain, even embraced it. To have his legs hurt was so much better than to have them feel nothing at all.
By the time a week had passed since Wolford and his gunmen had shown up at the farm, Luke was able to take actual steps as he walked across the room, no longer sliding his feet in a shuffling manner. He left the crutches behind and walked on his own, something that had seemed utterly impossible a few months ago. His gait was slow and halting, to be sure, and he told himself with a wry smile that he was a long way from being able to dance a jig, but he was getting there.
He was getting there, all right, and it was the best pain he had ever felt, although he sometimes had to bite his lip to keep from crying out when Emily massaged his legs.
It wasn’t long before she noticed the change in his legs. “These muscles are definitely harder and stronger than they were. You’re gonna walk again one of these days, Luke. You just wait and see.”
“Thanks to you, I am,” he told her. Without the way she had kept him going through his darkest days and nights, and without the determination his fear for her safety gave him, he might not have ever walked again. Soon he was going to be ready to reveal his secret to her.
A little later, when Peabody caught a moment alone with him, the old-timer said, “I spotted them fellas who work for Wolford watchin’ the place again today.”
Luke hated to hear that, but he wasn’t surprised. He had known better than to hope Wolford would give up on getting his hands on the farm. Even worse was knowing the man wanted to get his hands on Emily. He had hinted as much when he visited the farm, and Luke had seen the unmistakable lust in the carpetbagger’s eyes when Wolford looked at her.
“Why don’t I start going out to the fields with you and Emily during the day?” Luke had discarded that idea a week earlier but was beginning to think it might work.
“On your crutches?” Peabody asked with a frown.
“No, you can help me climb into the wagon, and I’ll sit up there and keep an eye on things while you’re working. We can take along the rifle and my revolver. I can handle a gun just fine.”
Peabody scratched his stubbly jaw and shrugged. “That ain’t a bad idea.”
The next day they put it into practice, even though Emily was insistent on knowing why Luke was coming with them.
“Wolford’s men have been watchin’ us again,” Peabody admitted.
“Oh, them? Shoot, I saw them before. They don’t scare me.”
“Well, they scare me, and they ought to scare you, too,” Peabody insisted. “They’re bad men, and the fella they work for is even worse. We got trouble on the horizon.”
It was even closer than they suspected.
With help from Peabody and Emily, Luke climbed to the wagon seat and they went out to the fields. He wished he could help them harvest the late summer corn crop. Unfortunately, his legs weren’t yet steady enough. Instead, he scanned the surrounding countryside for any sign of Wolford’s men without spotting them.
The sound of shots made Emily cry out in alarm and Luke twist around on the seat to peer toward the cabin.
The shots continued from that direction as Emily and Peabody dropped what they were doing and ran to the wagon. Peabody scrambled up to the seat and jerked the reins loose from the brake lever while Emily practically threw herself into the back. Even the normally stubborn mules sensed something was wrong. They broke into a run as Peabody headed them toward the cabin.
Breathing hard, Emily leaned over the back of the seat between the two men. “What are they doin’?” she asked anxiously. “What’s all that shootin’ about?”
“We’ll know in a minute.” Luke gripped the rifle tightly. It was only a single-shot weapon, but the revolver in his pocket was fully loaded.
The shooting stopped before they came in sight of the cabin. As they did, Luke caught a glimpse of several riders galloping away from the place. They were already too far off for him to make out any details, but was willing to bet they were the three hired guns who worked for Vincent Wolford.
“No!” Emily cried as her grandfather wheeled the wagon into the open area between the cabin and the barn. Limp, bloody bundles of feathers were scattered around on the ground. The chickens had been blasted to pieces. In the pen over by the barn, the hogs lay motionless in the mud.
Emily leaped out of the wagon and ran into the barn. When she came back a moment later, tears were running down her cheeks. “They killed the milk cow, too. Looks like they just shot everything that moved.”
“Why in blazes would they do that?” Peabody asked furiously. “It aggravates the hell out of me, but losin’ those animals ain’t enough to ruin the farm.”
“This is just the opening gambit,” Luke said. “Think of it as a warning. Wolford wants to let you know it’ll get a lot worse if you don’t give him what he wants.”
“Never! I’m goin’ to town and swearin’ out a complaint against the varmints! The sheriff’s got to do somethin’. He’s supposed to uphold the law around here.”
“The sheriff works for Wolford and that judge of his and the rest of the Yankees,” Emily said bitterly. “He’s not gonna do anything, Grampaw.”
“We don’t know that. If nobody ever speaks up, nothin’ will change around here!”
The old-timer was right about that, Luke supposed. But like Emily, he didn’t think complaining to the law would do any good. They would never know if they didn’t try, though. “We’ll all go to Dobieville. Maybe round up some of your friends and neighbors who’ve had trouble with the carpetbaggers and take them with you. If more people are speaking up, the men in charge will have a harder time ignoring them.”
Peabody nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
“Not as good an idea as goin’ to town and shootin’ that snake Wolford for tellin’ his men to do this,” Emily said.
Peabody spent the rest of the day visiting his neighbors and putting together a delegation to complain to the sheriff in Dobieville. The killing of his livestock wasn’t the first such outrage in the area. Barns had burned down mysteriously, crops had been trampled on dark nights, wells had been fouled, and cattle had been run off.
Nor would that harassment stop, Luke thought. In fact, he expected it to escalate into outright violence in fairly short order. Wolford and the other carpetbaggers were not patient men.
The farmers rendezvoused outside town and rode in on mules and in wagons and buggies. Some of them walked. A few had brought their wives and children with them, something Luke thought probably wasn’t wise. A group about forty strong converged on the sheriff’s office.
Their arrival in town stirred up enough of a commotion the lawman heard them coming. He stepped out onto the porch of his office to wait for them. He was a middle-aged man with thinning brown hair and a mustache. A gun belt was strapped around his waist, and he carried a shotgun in addition to the holstered revolver.
“Fella’s name is Royce Wilkes,” Peabody explained to Luke as they approached in the wagon. “Used to be a deputy here, but he was too fond of corn liquor. The old sheriff ran him off. When the war was over, the Yankees put him back in office and gave him the sheriff’s job. He’s local, but he’s in the back pocket of them no-good carpetbaggers.”
Wilkes had the shotgun cradled in his left arm. He held up his right hand for silence and called, “All right, what the devil’s goin’ on here?”
Everyone in the group turned to look at Linus Peabody. He had talked them into coming, and they regarded him as their spokesman.
“Sheriff, we’re all here to lodge complaints against Vincent Wolford and those fellas who work for him,” Peabody said. “I beg pardon of the ladies in earshot of my voice, but Wolford’s men have been raisin’ hell hereabouts, and it’s gotta stop.”
“You know for a fact that what you’re sayin’ is true, Linus?” Wilkes asked.
“I do,” Peabody replied with a forceful nod. “They came out to my place yesterday and shot all my chickens and hogs and my milk cow. We seen ’em ridin’ off after they done it.”
Luke and Emily nodded. In reality the riders had been too far away for a positive identification, but there was
