The Daughter - C.B. Cooper (most life changing books .txt) 📗

and then, “It’s good to have you home, daddy.”
Ben took a step forward and pulled his daughter into an awkward embrace. She sure had grown in the four years he’d been gone. Hardly seemed like his little girl anymore. “It’s good to be home, Angel girl.” he said, using the nickname he’d called her since the first time she’d smiled up at him from the cradle. Frowning, he realized the endearment didn’t roll quite as easily off his tongue like it used to. Too much time had past. Damn war.
Stepping back, he pasted on a bright smile, clapping her on the shoulder, “How ’bout we head on up to the house. You got any coffee for an old broke down rebel soldier?”
“You bet, pots on the stove.” she said. “How’s a breakfast of bacon and eggs sound?”
Hobbling along as best he could over the uneven ground, he answered, “Sounds like heaven, Angel girl. Sounds like pure heaven.”

After Ben’s belly was stuffed full, fuller than it had been in a long time, he limped out onto the porch and eased himself into one of the chairs. As he rolled a cigarette he asked the question he hadn’t wanted to ask.
“I seen a grave over yonder, in the trees. That be your ma or your brother?”
Gracie sat in the chair next to him and sighed. She hadn’t been looking forward to answering the question any more than he’d been wanting to ask it. “That’d be momma. She took sick the winter after you left.” Smiling sadly, she added, “She held on for as long as she could. She made it as far as the next spring, purely out of stubbornness I suppose.”
“That right?” he said striking a match and touching it to the tip of his cigarette.
“Oh yeah, she hung on, fighting it till the very last, she did. Couldn’t tell ya why.”
Turning his head to the side, Ben spat out a piece of loose tobacco, “You take care of her all by yourself?”
“Yes, sir.”
Well, that would explain it in Ben’s mind. The evil woman probably held on as long as she could just to make Gracie’s life a living hell for a tad bit longer.
Ben had met and married Loretta James back in ’46. She’d hailed from up in Missouri and he’d met her while attending a social function with his uncle.
He’d thought she was the prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on. That night they had danced to every song the band had played, all under the watchful eyes of her kin. Ben didn’t know until later, that there was a reason no one else was asking the dark haired beauty to dance. Seems her kin was from rough stock, and they didn’t take real kindly to men messing with their womenfolk. Not that they had much to worry about, seein’s how most of their women were ugly as sin, all except Loretta. But Ben, not being from around those parts, had no idea the trouble he was bringing upon himself. That is, until he took a trip out back to relieve himself later that night.
The whole dance had went dead silent as he made his way slowly back through the crowd, back to his Loretta. He’d been beaten black and blue. One eye was completely swelled shut, the other was on it’s way. His lip was split wide open, and his nose was growing by the second.
When he was just feet from reaching his goal, her pa had stepped in between them.
Earl James was a big, ugly, mean son of a bitch. He’d glared down at Ben for a long minute, then he asked him, “Are you stubborn, or jes’ plain stupid, boy?”
Ben had stood there thinking about it, and finally answered with a cocky half grin, “I’d say a little of both, I reckon. Now, if you‘ll excuse me, that pretty little gal behind you is waiting to dance.”
Audible gasps had went up around the crowd. Mother’s had covered their young’uns eyes, men put protective hands on their women folk, ready to shield them from danger if need be, everyone was froze like statues, waiting to see the dumb Arkansas boy ripped apart by the James men.
But Ben had just stood there, grinning at the huge hulk of a man, and no one was as surprised as Ben was, when Earl James finally shook his head and started laughing, long and loud. Slapping him on the shoulder he’d said, “You got sand boy, I’ll give ya that!” then to the band he’d yelled, “Strike up the music boys, my daughter wants to dance!
There had been many times over the years that followed that Ben had wished Earl would of shown him some mercy, and just killed him on the spot.
It turned out that Loretta James was twice as ugly on the inside as she had been beautiful on the outside.
Gracie interrupted his thoughts, “How’d you get that limp, daddy?”
“Never you mind about that right now. Where’s yer brother, Gracie.”
Looking out over the field, she sighed, “Gone. I ran him off right after momma died. Him and that no account Billy Weaver think their startin’ a gang of some sort. Luke thought that this would be a good hideout for them. I had to convince him otherwise.”
“Figures.”
That damn kid might of came from Ben’s loins, but his ma had ruined him to the quick. Turned him into an arrogant, self centered, lazy little bastard. His being gone weren’t no cause for grief, that was for damn sure.
Loretta had treated that kid like he was the second coming of Christ, he could do no wrong in her eyes. But poor little Gracie, she never could do no right. There just weren’t no two ways about it, Loretta hated Gracie from the git go.
She had claimed, almost from the time Gracie was born, that she had the devil in her. He and Loretta used to get into horrible fights over the way she treated her. Until, that is, Ben started noticing that Gracie would turn up the next day with terrible bruises. After that, Ben held his tongue and kept his trap shut for over a year. He had walked on egg shells around that woman so she’d have no reason to be mean to Gracie in his absence.
Until one night when he returned from the fields and Gracie was no where to be seen. He’d kept quiet most of the way through supper, even though he’d been sick with worry at her absence. Loretta and Luke had been down right chipper all through the meal, talking and laughing, as if nothing were amiss. Ben had waited as long as he could, till he couldn’t stand it no more. Finally, he asked Loretta where Gracie was.
‘She didn’t feel well, so she went to lay down.’ She had said, shrugging nonchalantly.
But she had gotten panicky real quick when Ben stood up and announced he was going to check on her. Grabbing his arm and pasting on a smile, she had tried to stop him, ‘She’s fine Ben, sit and finish your supper.’
When she realized that wasn’t working, she jumped up and tried to block his way, and the next words out of her mouth had made his blood run cold.
She had laughed, though it sounded strained and tinny to his ears, almost on the edge of hysteria, ‘My word, Ben, I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with that girl. She just insists on being bad! Someone’s got to teach her right from wrong!’ She had shouted the last part to his back, as he shoved past her and strode towards Gracie‘s bedroom.
He walked to the far end of the cabin where two small rooms had been partitioned off for the kids. As he walked through the doorway he could see her laying on her bed, curled up into a little ball beneath the covers. She had looked so small and fragile.
He had gently scooped her up, listening to her whimper like a hurt puppy, then sat down on her bed, holding her close to his chest, slowly rocking her back and forth.
One side of her face was bruised horribly, her eye was swelled and her lip was split. And those were just the injuries he could see. The way she stayed curled in his arms, told him there were probably far worse injuries under her clothes.
He had sat there, fighting the rage that was building in side of him. ‘I am so sorry, Angel.’ he had whispered to her.
Her little hand had began patting his chest, consoling him, ‘I’s alright, daddy. I’m okay.’ she’d mumbled through swollen bloodied lips.
Ben had fought to choke back the sob that threatened to escape. It wasn’t all right. How could someone do that to a child, and not just any child, but their own child. Flesh and blood. His thoughts had turned murderous as he thought about his depraved wife. God, he wanted to kill her. Just wrap his bare hands around her throat, and choke the wretched life right out of her body.
Carefully, he had laid Gracie down and tucked the blanket around her.
Then he had went to find Loretta.
She had been standing in the kitchen with her back to him. Luke was no where to be seen as he crossed the room to the woman he had married, the woman who had bore his babies, the woman who had miserably failed not only him, but also their children.
She had heard him coming and spun around, her eyes wild with fear, and a large boning knife gripped firmly in her hands, ready to strike when he got close enough. ‘She’s evil Ben! You’re a stupid blind fool! That girls got the devil in her! Why don’t you see that?’
Ben’s steps never faltered. He grabbed her slim wrist, squeezing hard as he bent it backwards, feeling the crunch of cartilage beneath his fingers. Then he grabbed the knife with his other hand, and threw it across the room. Next, he cut her off in mid-scream, with a hard right to the mouth.
Never in his life had he struck a woman, and he didn’t abide by men who did, but he’d also never hated anyone as much as he had hated her right then, and all he had wanted to do was kill her.
In a blind rage, he had delivered blow after crushing blow, intent on beating her to death. He’d kept quiet for a whole year, letting all his anger and resentment build up behind the wall he had carefully constructed, but the damn had broken.
He was in the midst of unleashing a years worth of furry on her, but stopped short, as he heard his little girl say, ‘Daddy?’
He had looked up to see Gracie, standing by the kitchen table, tears streaming down her bruised, scrunched up face. The look she had given him had broke his heart in two, and turned his rage to shame in an instant. It had seemed to say, ‘Not you too.’

Ben cleared his throat, “You been taking care of this place all by yourself?”
“No, sir. Reverend Sharp moved into the barn right before momma died. Got himself a pretty nice little set-up out there. He helps out quite a bit when he’s here.”
Ben nodded. He was glad to hear that his old friend was staying here and keeping an eye on the place. He had met Sam Sharp down in Texas, when things were first gearing up for the Mexican-American War. Ben’s uncle ran freight for the Army, and he had