He Will Restore

Chapter One

Chapter One  

 

'Teek, you old sumbitch! What you doin' way out here?' Dobson Johnson rode his mule along side George 'Teek' Brassell's mare until the men's stirrup irons touched.  

Brassell reached over and shook Johnson's hand heartily. 'Me and Joe was headed down your way, Dob. We need to talk to you and Doll.'  

Doll Bates leaned back on his own mule, tilted his felt hat back on his head and spat a stream of tobacco juice between the back hooves of Johnson's horse mule. 'What 'bout, Teek? You got something cookin'?'  

Teek cut loose his own stream of 'baccy juice in no general direction. 'Might have, Doll. Just might. Might you boys be interested if there was?'  

Dob Johnson looked at the fourth man in the party. 'Cat got your tongue, Joe. You ain't said much. Ain't like you to be so quiet.'  

Joe Brassell shifted his felt hat lower over his eyes and settled deeper into his saddle. 'Ain't got much to say.'  

The road between Cookville and Smithville Tennessee was long and hazardous. Bad men plied their trade up and down the Nashville Road, setting upon unsuspecting travelers and carters for little more gain than a part of a side of bacon or a few pennies for a drink. That four such men would come together was too much of a coincidence. That they should come together just as the sun was setting over the nearby hills, their shadows looming long as they mingled with the trees, added to the mystery.  

Teek reigned his horse back and headed her towards the Pike Inn. 'What'dya say we discuss our business over a glass of Brother Jim's corn?'  

The four road back up the Nashville Road, until they came to the fork, where a low roof peeked out over the top of the hill. With Teek and Joe in the lead, the four followed the dirt track around the hill, until a two story building, set into the hillside, came into view.  

Teek pulled up to the long rail set in front of a horse trough. 'Rest you saddles boys. We can all use a drink.'  

Doll didn't dismount. He looked down his nose at Teek. 'Ya know, Teek, maybe you oughtn't'a make so free with another man's whiskey.'  

Brassell hawked and spat his chaw onto the ground and toed it under the trough. 'You don't want in, Doll, ain't no skin off my nose. We'll just split four ways 'stead 'a five is all.'  

All four men finally tied their mounts loosely to nearby saplings, giving them room to graze as the chill of the night closed in. They followed Joe into the darkened still- house that stood behind the barn.  

Jim Brassell's still-house looked, to the uninitiated, like any other outbuilding on the neatly kept farmstead. There was no tell tale smoke from a still, no odor of burning hardwood as the liquor was cooked down. It was a medium sized building behind the barn, set with windows along the southern wall, with the north wall built into the hillside. Inside, waist high tables were set along three of the four walls. A small pot bellied stove was situated near the door, the pipe rising from the roof. To anyone walking in, the place was used for a stripping room for the family's tobacco crop.  

Jim, older brother to Teke and Joe, was waiting for them inside. He had brought a kitchen chair out from the house, and was sitting next to the stove, adding kindling to coax the embryonic sparks to warm the room.  

'Jim'. Teke nodded to his brother as he pulled off his hat and hitched one hip up onto the stripping table.  

Jim grunted in response, and poked at the embers.  

The other men followed Teke, and arranged themselves around the room. Doll was the last one through the door. He pushed it closed behind him.  

The men sat around the room in tableau, shifting their weight from one hip to the other, rooting in jacket pockets nervously, scratching and shuffling their feet against the wood floor. Finally, Dob broke the silence.  

'So, what was so all-fired important we had to come out in the cold and miss our suppers, Joe?'  

'Yeah.' Doll Bates groused. 'And where's them squeezin's you promised?'  

Jim Brassell grunted again. He heaved himself from his chair and took three long strides to the northern wall of the room. With his hip and his boot he shoved the stripping table aside, almost unseating Dob in the process, and pushed at the wall. The previously unseen door creaked open. Jim disappeared behind the wall, only to emerge a moment later carrying a quart jar. He slammed the jar down on the table, pulled the door closed, then shoved the table back into place.  

Jim retraced his steps back to his chair and resumed his seat as if nothing had happened.  

Doll was the first to go for the Ball jar. He unscrewed the lid, and took a long pull, then another, then wiped his mouth with his hand. 'You always did make the best this side of Sevierville, Jim.'  

For the first time that night, Jim Brassell looked up and smiled, ever so slightly.  

Dob helped himself to another swallow. 'So, Teke. What's so all fired important that we had to come out in the cold?'  

Teke took the jar from Dob and replaced the lid. He wanted a clear head tonight. 'Boys, we're gonna get us three thousand dollar cash money come Monday night.'