Mankillers

For several moments the only sound in the room was the ticking of the mantel clock over the fireplace.

Regaining his composure, the banker offered him a cigar from the humidor he kept on the corner of his desk. Once they’d lit up, Buck said, “I’m leaving Columbia. Present company excepted—it holds no associations I care to retain.”

Grayson frowned. “Your family’s lived here for generations and we’ve been lifelong friends. I’ll miss your company, but I certainly understand why you feel you must go. Any idea where?”

“I enjoyed Charleston when I was in medical school, and now I have other reasons for making it my home and establishing my practice there.”

Grayson puffed out a smoke ring. “Do I detect a female influence in your decision?”

Buck smiled, then grew serious. “Any word on Rufus Snead?”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve just received a preliminary report from Tracker.”

Buck sat up.

“Snead’s indeed ensconced in Lexington County among a band of cutthroats and thieves who do his bidding as much out of fear as loyalty. They’re a formidable contingent.”

Buck puffed his cigar and listened carefully.

“Snead knows you’re here in Columbia,” Grayson continued. “He also knew you were coming here from Charleston and purposely ambushed you at Cedar Creek. His intent at the time was to wound you like you wounded him. The man’s insane, obsessed. Tracker’s emphatic. Be exceptionally vigilant. He’s convinced Snead will make another attempt on your life.”

“He already has,” Buck stated calmly through the veil of rich aromatic smoke. “At Weston’s Creek. And he missed. Again.” He examined the ash on the tip of his cigar and recounted the ambush and his narrow escape on the trip back from Jasmine the day before. When he was finished, he stood up. “I think it’s time I met your Mr. Tracker.”

#

“What do you mean you’re going to Jasmine today?” Gus asked his wife at breakfast. “You said last night you were bringing Emma and the baby here in the next week or two.”

“That was last night,” Miriam replied. “I thought more about it and I’ve changed my mind.”

“How often have I heard that before?”

She scowled at him. “There’s no point in waiting, and that poor woman out there all by herself with that child. We should have done something about that situation a long time ago.”

“It wasn’t our responsibility, dear.”

“If each one sweeps in front of his own door, the whole street is clean.”

“I’m trying to reason with you and you give me Jewish aphorisms.”

“You disagree?”

He threw up his hands. “No, dearest, I don’t, but—”

“I was going to send Wilbur and Janey, but Emma hasn’t met Wilbur but maybe one time, and she’s never met Janey. I can’t imagine that old soul getting in a carriage with virtual strangers because they tell her I sent them. So I’m going with them.”

“Buck is going with you, of course.”

“That poor man’s been through enough. Besides, he’s meeting with Dr. Meyer this afternoon. I’m hoping Thaddeus will be able to talk him into settling down here.”

“Don’t count on it.”

“Anyway, Wilbur will drive and Janey can help Emma and me with the child.”

“Just the three of you to take care of an old woman and a baby? That’s unacceptable. I won’t allow it. If you won’t take Buck, I’ll go with you.”

“Tsk. Gus, you tend to your business and I’ll tend to mine.”

“Miriam, you need protection.”

She reached across the table and patted his cheek. “You’re a darling, Gus, but I’m taking your pistol with me. You know I can outshoot you. Go to your bank, dear, and let me take care of this.”

He threw his napkin on the plate before him. “For once in your life, Miriam, listen to me.”

The cup stopped halfway to her mouth and she stared at him. It was so unusual for him to put his foot down, especially once she’d made up her mind.

“You are not leaving this house with no more than two servants and traveling halfway across Richland Country,” he stated. “You need a body guard, and it so happens I have the man for the job.”

She blinked slowly, waiting for him to elaborate.

“So you make your preparations, my dear, and I’ll make mine. His name is Tracker.”

Chapter FOURTEEN

For the third time in three minutes Gus conferred the nickel pocket watch that he wore in place of his treasured gold timepiece, shook his head and sat in the upholstered chair by the cold fireplace. The drawing room of his residence on Senate Street was growing dim with the summer day’s waning light.

Buck stood up from the settee on the other side of the room. “If they’re not here in the next half hour, Gus, I’ll ride out and look for them.”

“I shouldn’t have let her go.” Gus strode to the window.

“She isn’t by herself, old friend. Tracker’s with her.”

“I trust him implicitly, but he’s only one man.”

The housekeeper entered the room. “Mr. Grayson, sir, should I light a lamp?”

“Go ahead,” he responded impatiently. “Is supper ready, Alice?”

“Whenever they get here, sir.”

They heard the clop of horses’ hooves on the street outside. Gus spun to peer through the open window, and let out an audible sigh. “Thank God. It’s them.”

Buck followed him out the front door and stood off to the side while he rushed to the shiny black open landau. “Where in Sam Hill y’all been?” he accosted his wife. “I expected you home two hours ago.”

“Oh, Gus, look at this precious child.” She tickled the cheek of the placid boy in her arms.

“I see him. I see him. Now, what took you so long?”

“Oh, tush. We’re here now. Help us unload.”

Buck smiled at the endearing exchange between husband and wife. But his attention was more drawn to the man on the Appaloosa behind the carriage. Tracker was of indeterminate age. Buck judged him to be of average height and stature, with a coppery complexion that admitted of no one particular race. Dressed impeccably in white trousers, riding boots, matching waist coat and jacket, he appeared smart without being flashy. The incongruity was in his sporting a stovepipe hat while across the saddle cantle he held a Henry rifle.

Grayson said his factotum could blend in anywhere. Differently attired, perhaps he could. What Buck suspected wouldn’t change was the air of confidence that seemed to emanate from i

The creaking of the carriage as Miriam stood in preparation for stepping down brought Buck’s attention back to the old woman in the seat next to her. Poor Emma. The woman looked exhausted as she slouched against a young servant girl with a flawless, creamed-coffee complexion.

He moved up to the side of the four-wheeler. “Emma, you all right?”

“Oh, Mr. Buck,” she said teary-eyed, “I . . .”

“Janey,” Miriam instructed once she was on the ground, “you take Job while I help Emma.”

The servant girl climbed down the other side of the carriage, came around the back and took the sleeping toddler from Miriam into her arms.

Buck extended his hands to Emma. “Here, let me.”

Slowly and painfully, the former house slave struggled to her feet, swayed when the high-sprung carriage tilted, and nearly fell over its side. Fortunately Buck was there to catch her. Over her protests he carried her in his arms to the porch of the house and set her down in a rocker. Biting her lips, she sobbed.