We rode south towards Wills Creek. Neither one of us wanted to speak much. The obvious attraction we had earlier that morning left me unsure where this was headed. My stomach twisted in knots at the excitement and heartbreak I will endure if I let myself get emotionally invested in him. I would find my way home and leave him behind.
The sun's heat had disappeared by the afternoon and storm clouds had rolled in. I felt a drop of water land on my cheek. “It's going to rain. I'm not sure this dress can hold up to too much water. Do you know anyone around here? We need… I need shelter.” I looked down at the red coat and blue petticoat. They would become a heavy sponge if I was caught in the rain.
“I see smoke coming from the base of the mountain. It looks to be someone's home. Let's see if we can find a dry place to stay until the storm passes.”
“Do you know who lives there?” I flicked my head in the direction of the plume that wafted above the trees against the dark sky.
“No,” he laughed.
“So, you think they are going to let some stranger into their home because you ask?”
“If they won’t do it for a soldier, they might be obliged to assist my wife that is with child.”
I scoffed, “You're going to lie to them for sympathy?”
“If it means keeping you dry and safe? Then, yes.”
I looked down at my stomach. Did I look pregnant? Nope. “I’m too old to be with child,” I squeaked out. I didn’t want to add that I had a hysterectomy eight years ago, making it impossible for me to get pregnant. That was none of his business.
We had taken the trip easy for the Louis, since he carried the both of us, but it was not the time for an easy walk through the countryside. We needed to move before the rain poured out of the dark sky. Black clouds continued to roll in as a few large drops continued to threaten our ride. Henry gave encouragement to Louis to quicken his pace. We hoped to find a friendly host at the base of the rising smoke. As we approached the small cabin in the woods, we could see that there was smoke billowing out of the chimney, but there was no person or animal in the yard. The house was still. Eerily still.
“This doesn't feel right,” Henry said as he pulled his pistol out from the side satchel and held it between our bodies. My breath skipped from the pressure of the pistol next to my back. I understood what was happening and this was a risky situation that we did not expect to encounter when we went looking for a place to escape the rain. I tried to look as calm as possible, as to not draw any attention to Henry loading the pistol.
I swallowed and let out a barely audible voice. “Shouldn’t there be some sort of activity? Chickens? Goats? People? Something?”
“Aye. Are you well to handle this?” Henry leaned over, speaking in a low tone to ensure I was the only one that could hear him.
“Absolutely,” I lied. My stomach tightened and felt as though it was going to turn in on itself and make me lose any food I might have left in my stomach.
“Are you telling me the truth?”
I gritted my teeth. “Absolutely not, but let's do this.” I wanted to throw up.
Henry took a deep breath to calm his nerves. My jaw clenched. If he was worried, that meant the outlook must be grim, and I certainly should be worried.
“Stay on Louis. If something happens to me, I need you to get out of here as quick as possible.” Henry slid off Louis and cautiously walked towards the cabin. He scanned the area. His head moved left to right. Pistol in his hand at the ready. Each step was smooth, sure, and silent.
I gulped, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I exhaled slow and controlled, and listened for footsteps, voices, the cocking of a gun, anything that might let me know if someone was going to sneak upon us through the surrounding woods or out of the cabin. The breeze passed through the branches on the trees as it picked up from the rain heading our way. The smell of rain was close. Leaves that had fallen during the autumn still carpeted parts of the ground nearby spun in little cyclones as the breeze picked up.
Louis snorted with impatience from standing there and stomped his hoof on the ground. He was agitated. I knew to trust the instinct of an animal. If he was worried, then I was worried. Henry was worried. All of us were worried. Louis had taken good care of us so far; I wasn’t about to doubt him. No sounds of livestock snorting, braying, or clucking came from the barn or coop. There was only an unnerving silence for a house and barn that looked like they should be occupied. Louis stomped his foot again. My anxiety shot through the atmosphere like a ball of lightening. I stroked his neck, it helped calm us.
Henry walked up to the side window of the small cabin, pistol in his hand and ready to fire. He peered through the window, looked back at me, and shook his head. He walked along the side, close to the wall, to the corner, and popped his head around the back. Once. Twice. He disappeared around the back and left me alone. I again gulped down my anxiety, spun my ring around my finger. I shifted in the saddle, uneasy at not knowing what was going on and concerned for our safety. Louis stomped his right foot and huffed his nostrils. Henry came back around to the front of the cabin, pistol still in hand. He walked up to the front door and tapped, using the muzzle of the pistol. No answer. He tapped again. No answer. He tried the latch and found the door unlocked. He slowly opened the door.
He called out, “Is anyone inside?” No response.
Henry looked over at me–still mounted on the horse and ready to bolt if I needed–he shrugged his shoulders and waved me over. I rode the horse closer to the cabin, still looking around for any sign of the occupants or anyone else that may have been lurking about. Henry grabbed the reins and tied Louis to a post on the porch. He helped ease me to the ground and ensured I had my footing. After the long days of riding and not being used to sitting in a saddle, my legs wobbled under me. I wondered if I was ever going to get used to sitting in a saddle all day. I put my hands on his chest until I could stand and nodded when ready to move. We spoke using our eyes, hand signals, and jerks of our heads. My stomach twisted in knots.
There was an uneasiness in the air and neither one of us wanted to make any more noise than required. Henry squeezed my hand, and I followed him to the front door. He did not want to leave me outside and unguarded. With gentle steps, he led the way to the front door, pistol still in hand and at the ready, and pushed it open. He looked inside and took a step past the threshold. I followed behind, with my hands on his back as if to use him as a shield. I held my breath. The last time I entered a vacant cabin, I slipped to 1754. Another step in and Henry stopped and turned around, almost knocking me over.
“You don't want to go in there.” His voice trembled, no longer whispered.
“Why not?” I tried to look past the threshold as he blocked my view and entry.
“There was a reason that no one answered the door.”
I tried looking around him. “Stop being so damn cryptic. Tell me what is going on.”
“Dead, Amelia. They are dead.”
“Are you sure? What if they are just sick?” I asked, trying to look around Henry. I didn't want to believe that we walked into a house with dead people in it. How did they die? Were we in danger? During this time, many people died of illness due to lack of medical treatment, as medicine was still evolving. I thought if they had an illness that I could use my limited knowledge of first aid and save them.
Henry continued to block my entry. “Amelia, I don't want you to see them.”
“What makes you think I can't handle sick people that may or may not be dead?”
“Someone has butchered them. They are not sick. Considering the fire is still going, whoever did this could still be around.” He looked around the yard and into the woods.
I pushed my way past Henry and saw the body of a woman and a man lying in a pool of blood and human waste on the wooden floor. The smell of the blood and waste hit me like a ton of bricks. The smell was going to make me sick more than the sight of the slaughter. I gasped and covered my mouth and nose. I grabbed my stomach and begged for it to calm down. I didn’t need to get sick and add to the stench. “We cannot leave them here.” Who would do that to them? I moved to the door to get fresh air. My eyes watered. “We must bury them. What if they have family and friends nearby? Should we leave a note? Who did this?” Rapid breaths coupled with anxiety caused my chest to heave.
Henry moved outside to gain his composure and take in the fresh air. “We don't have time...”
“We need to make time,” I yelled out in anger and disgust at the evil. “I will help dig the graves if I need to, but we cannot leave them here like… like… like this.” I motioned towards the cabin.
Henry let out an exhausted breath. He knew he could not win this argument with me.
“I will see if they have a shovel in the barn.” His shoulders sank as he headed to the small barn.
On the front porch, I was alone with my thoughts. I took a deep breath and held it, covered my nose and mouth with my scarf, and headed back inside. I wanted to get a better look at what happened to them. They both were laying on their stomachs, the man halfway on top of the woman. It appeared they had been shot in the back as if they were running away from their attacker. Curiosity and sadness drew me closer to them. I needed to understand why someone wanted them dead. They did not seem to have any neighbors nearby, so for them to be in a dispute seemed unlikely to me.
I lifted my skirt and petticoats and walked closer to the couple, careful not to step in the pool of blood that soaked into the wood and through the floorboards. I thought I heard a sound come from one of them. One of them made a noise. I ran out of the house towards the barn, my adrenaline spiked, and shouted, “Henry! Henry! Come quick!”
Henry ran out of the barn, pistol in hand, and looked around. He crossed the yard in a few strides, pulled me into him to shield me from whatever had startled me. He looked around for the danger. Stifled with my face pressed against his chest, I pushed myself out of his arms. It wasn’t time for him to be my protector. “One of them made a sound. I think they are alive.”
“What?” His eyes narrowed in disbelief. Henry looked around, saw no one coming, and lowered his pistol. “Bodies sometimes make noises after they died.”
“I know what I…”
Henry grabbed me by the shoulders. “Amelia, they are dead.”
“Listen to me. I know I heard one of them made a noise, and it didn't sound like a dead person's noise to me. I’m not stupid.”
“How many dead people have you been around?”
“My husband, for one.” I stepped back further away from him and looked away. Whereas I had seen Todd after he died, it was from behind a glass panel at the mortuary. They covered him and would not let me near him. My parents had died when I was in my twenties, and I remembered little from their funeral. It didn’t matter how many bodies I had seen and their condition, I know what I had heard, and I was furious that he would try to brush me off like that.
“I will go check the bodies. Do you want to stay out here?”
“No. I don’t want to be left alone.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “There is something not right about this place.”
I looked over my shoulder and my eyes darted into the woods around me as we walked back to the cabin. A feeling of doom hung overhead like the storm clouds that approached us. It was if someone was out there watching us. The thud of Henry’s boots on the wood floor echoed onto the porch. He flipped the man off the woman.
The rain that had threatened our ride to Wills Creek had finally arrived. I wanted the rain to wash away the blood. It was everywhere.
The rust-colored blood on the man's shirt had a hole in it caused by a bullet. He flopped over with his eyes wide open. I hoped his death was quick. The bullet had gone through the body, and he bled out onto the woman. “His blood is covering her. There is just so much blood everywhere.” My voice trembled with every word.
Henry looked over his shoulder at me as I stood in the doorway. “Amelia, you don't have to stay in here. I can take care of this.”
I twisted my loose ring around my finger. “No. We are in this together,” I said as I walked closer to the couple. “Do you see where the bullet entered her?”
“Does it matter where the bullet entered?” He sounded irritated with me. Maybe, I asked too much of him. Perhaps, he was the one that couldn’t handle being around dead people.
“I suppose not. I wanted to figure out what happened. I'm just trying to make sense of it all. Will you turn her over?”
Henry reached to pull her over and she let out a faint groan through her pale and slightly parted lips.
“Amelia, she's alive. Help me with her.”