Fleeing Home
Will was not interested in listening to the dirt-covered bandit’s pleas. “Yeah, I had a brother once,” he said, his face void of all emotion. Then, the marauder, seeming to understand his fate was sealed, began to weep, his face turning from an expression of hope, a pleading look of distress, to wide-eyed terror, as Will raised his newly reloaded gun and blew the scoundrel’s brain matter all over the trees behind him.
The horse whinnied loudly and tried to buck the lifeless rider from its back. Finally, the corpse’s grip slipped from the reins, and he fell to the ground, what was left of his head hitting first. The horse slowly began to trot out of the woods, stunned, but aware of his freedom. Will Tucker turned his borrowed horse around and headed back to the cabin he used to call home.
As he entered the yard, a realization of all that had just taken place began to creep at the corners of his consciousness. He pushed it aside, knowing he would have to act fast. Gunshots echoed for miles around here and it was not likely that this small band of four were the only raiders around. They usually rode in bands of twenty or more, or so Will had been told by neighbors who claimed to have seen them. Until now, he wasn’t quite sure he believed them. Talk of looting and burning had traveled up and down this borderland for a few years now, since the idea of war had spread into so many folks’ heads. And while he knew that such things were going on over in Kansas, he had yet to hear of any families actually being attacked this far into Missouri. Until now.
He could hear his sister crying softly as he climbed off of the horse. She was leaning over Nolan’s body, trying to wipe away an endless trickle of blood that continued, no matter how many times she brushed her handkerchief over it. “Julia,” he said softly as he approached, “we need to get going. There will be others looking for us soon. We don’t have much time.”
At the sound of his voice, Julia looked up, the expression on her face frantic, almost as if she wasn’t sure who was talking, someone behind her, or her dead brother in her arms. “Will?” she asked, bewildered. Then she repeated herself. “Will? What are we going to do?”
He gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Poor girl was only fourteen and she had seen too much death. Their parents had both died of consumption within a few months of each other when she was nine. Julia had suffered from the illness ever since. Even now, she began to cough. Will kneeled down beside her, next to the lifeless body of his brother, and handed her his handkerchief, knowing she could no longer use her own. He looked at his brother’s face. Julia must have closed his eyes, which was good because he didn’t think he could bear to look into them again. Nolan had taken care of them, practically raised them both, since their folks had died. He was only three years older than Will, and just twenty-five, but he had shown the strength of character and the endurance of any man Will had ever known—just like their pa. Now, they would need to leave, leave their home, leave all the memories that they had behind and try to outrun the closing darkness that was taking over these parts of the land.
Again, he repeated to Julia that they needed to get going. And this time, as if she had snapped out of a trance, she nodded, gently resting Nolan’s head on the ground as they both came to their feet. “I’ll go inside, get dressed, and gather up what I can. You’ll get the horses ready?” she asked. Will nodded. Then, she looked back at her dear brother’s body on the ground. “We can’t leave him,” she added.
Agreeing, Will nodded again. “I’ll saddle up the horses and hook them to the wagon. We can bring shovels and bury him up in the family plot before we leave the wagon and ride out of here.”
“Where will we go?” she asked, a solemn look on her young, pretty face.
Will sighed, where would they go? He could think of only one place where they might be out of danger. “We’ll go to Aunt Margaret’s. I think we will be safe there. Now go, get dressed. We need to hurry if we are going to make it out of here before sunlight and before any of these outlaws’ friends come a’lookin’ for us.”
Disappearing inside of the cabin with a nod, Julia went to put on a dress, find her boots, and grab the little provisions they had. She took the ham and beans that Nolan had promised to his murderer and then managed to find some bread. She stuffed it all in a knapsack, along with a change of clothes for her and her brother, all of the ammunition they had for the rifles, and a stack of drawings she had made of her parents before they died, as well as some drawings of her oldest brother. That would be all she would have to remember them by.
As she came out the door, she could see that Will had the horses all hitched up and ready to go. She went back inside and grabbed a bed sheet to wrap around her beloved brother’s body as Will tossed some shovels into the back of the open wagon. “Can you help me with him?” he asked, sadness welling up in his deep brown eyes. She nodded, pushing a stray blonde curl behind her ear. They carefully wrapped the sheet around their brother, as delicately as if he were a newborn baby, and loaded him into the back of the wagon, Julia taking his head and laying it down as gently as possible. Then, they rode out to the lane that would take them up the hillside to their family plot. As they left the little homestead, neither of them could bear to turn their head and glance back at what remained from the life they had known before that horrible night.