Godsend hell yeah herita.., p.7
Godsend (Hell Yeah! Heritage), page 7
“I wish we had some to make a pie.”
The mention of something sweet made Austin’s mouth water. “Me too.”
There weren’t any persimmons. Jolie could see Austin’s disappointment. “I could make you a chess pie. No fruit required.”
“I think that sounds amazing,” he agreed.
While they were out and about, he enjoyed watching Jolie and Sandy frolic through the leaves. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned on a tree, totally entranced by her grace and the lilt of her laughter.
Crack! Snap!
He immediately stood up straighter. What had he heard? Reaching for his rifle, he remembered he’d left it by the well. Damn! It was probably nothing, but better safe than sorry. “Jolie, I’ll be right back, I left my gun by the well.”
“We’ll be here!” she called, tossing an overripe piece of fruit at Sandy. She felt lighter hearted than she had in many a day. Sandy ran after the pear; he was enjoying the impromptu game of fetch. Jolie pulled her hair off her neck and stared up at the sun, loving the warm rays against her skin.
Squeal!
A noise Jolie wasn’t familiar with broke the air and Sandy burst from the bushes, yelping at the top of his lungs. Coming close behind him was a large animal, a big black hog, with tusks gleaming. There was no doubt in her mind that if the big boar caught Sandy, he wouldn’t survive.
“No! Back!” Caring none for her own safety, Jolie charged the animal, waving her arms and yelling at the top of her lungs. The hog stopped in his tracks, seeming surprised by this new foe. Sandy barked furiously, allowing the woman to stand between him and danger. “Go away!”
A few dozen yards away, Austin’s heart was in his throat. He could hear the ruckus and he didn’t have to see it to know exactly what was happening. A feral hog was threatening his dog and a woman he fast was coming to consider his. He’d seen this type of animal do extreme damage to a dog, gutting them with one swipe of their sharp tusks. “Jolie!” he screamed, running toward the small orchard. “Honey, don’t put yourself in danger!”
Barking and yelling told him they were still in one piece. His legs pumped furiously as he covered the ground. When they came into view, Austin nearly died. Jolie, delicate and sweet, was in a stand-off with a vicious animal that could kill her in a heartbeat. The cacophony of the dog barking, her yelling, and the pig squealing muddled his brain. Loading and cocking his rifle, he addressed Jolie. “Move two steps to your left, sweetheart,” he called, needing to get a clear shot.
Sweetheart? Jolie heard his voice and automatically, trusting him without question, she obeyed.
Austin took aim and fired.
Jolie jumped with the explosion of the gun and gasped when the hog hit the ground.
“What in the world did you think you were doing?” he demanded harshly, weak from fear.
Turning to face him, Jolie quickly realized he wasn’t angry with her, he was afraid for her. Launching herself at him, she threw out her arms and he caught her close. “Don’t you ever, ever put yourself in danger like that again. You scared me to death,” he whispered.
“I couldn’t let him get Sandy. You love him,” she murmured against the warmth of his neck.
“What if…” he started, then stopped, unable to continue.
“At least we have more bacon,” Jolie offered in a small voice.
Austin laughed, hugging her even closer. “I might never let you go again.”
Jolie didn’t say anything, but what he said sounded good to her. She didn’t want him to let her go.
She was happy.
They stood there for a few more minutes, until Sandy nudged his way in between them, aware on some level that he was involved in the chaotic happenings.
“Come on.” He took her by the hand. “I need to walk. I’m still shaking like that willow tree we need to find. After we gather your bark, I’ll come back and collect the hog, dress him and put the meat in the smokehouse.”
As they began to walk, he offered her his arm and she took it, feeling more like a lady than she ever had.
“I appreciate you preparing medicine for me. The lack of a physician is one thing that worries me. Back in Tennessee, we have easier access to medical help. Here, there is none. There’s the one doctor in Nacogdoches, but if something happens, he’s two days away.” For a heartbeat, he let himself picture Jolie swollen with child and him worried about her delivering a healthy baby.
“I know quite a bit. My grandmere taught me well.”
He still didn’t breathe much easier. “You, Miss Jolie, are a prize.”
She basked in his words as her gaze skated over their surroundings. The forest was lush and rich. Tall, straight pine trees seemed to graze the clouds. The ground was a dark burnt orange color, a combination of the bed of pine straw and the red earth beneath. At first she’d thought the ground was clay, but it wasn’t. The sod, the dirt itself was a rich, dark burgundy color. She’d heard Coffi tell someone they’d be crossing the Redlands, and now she knew what he’d meant.
“Listen.” Austin whispered. “Do you hear it?”
They stopped and Jolie tipped her head. “I hear birds. And the wind.” She listened more. “Water. I hear water flowing.”
“Yes, Palo Gaucho Bayou, or as the locals call it Polly Gotch. It runs from just north of here all the way to the Sabine.”
“I crossed the Sabine River on a ferry.”
“Probably the Gaines Ferry over near Red Mound. The road leading from the ferry is known as El Camino Real, or the King’s Highway, it runs not too far from here.”
“A highway?” she asked, confused.
Austin laughed. “Just a wagon trail, but one that is used by travelers and pioneers headed west. The stage coach passes that way also.”
“Will you take me to see it someday?”
The idea that she might be around for him to share things with was heady. “I will. You probably won’t see anyone, sometimes it’s days before anyone goes by, but we’ll certainly go see it if you want.”
They came to the running stream. “This looks different from the bayous of Louisiana,” she said. “Smaller, rockier.” She was enchanted by the fast moving water as it ran over small rocks making a singing noise. They checked the trot lines, only to find them empty. Austin found this odd. There was plenty of fish in these waters.
Sure enough, they also found the weeping willow, its slim leaves and downcast branches a familiar sight to Jolie. “Do you have a knife?”
“I do.”
At her direction, Austin peeled a section of bark back and off.
“Not too much. We don’t want to hurt the tree.” Before she could say another word, something whistled in the wind and an arrow slammed into the trunk at eye level with Jolie.
“Damn!” Austin jerked her back and put her behind him.
Jolie was afraid; she was trembling so hard she could barely stand. “Are we being attacked?”
Austin peered into the shadows. “No, I don’t think so.” He yanked the arrow from the tree. “It’s Cherokee. I’m at peace with the Cherokee. Whoever shot this arrow knew exactly what they were doing. They could’ve hit one of us if they’d wanted to.” Knowing whoever had shot the arrow was still on the other side of the bayou across from them, his goal was to get her as far away as possible. Pulling Jolie to him, he whispered. “Go, take Sandy and run to the house. Lock yourself in. I’ll be along shortly.”
Jolie didn’t want to leave him, but she trusted him implicitly. “Come home to me, Austin McCoy.” Without thinking about it too much, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, then took off running for the safety of four walls.
Once Jolie was safely away, Austin sat his rifle to one side. He wasn’t as sure of the identity of their visitors as he had led Jolie to believe, although he was a firm believer in seeking peace with the native Indian tribes. His goal had been to calm her and get her to safety. Holding his hands out to his side, he displayed himself to be unarmed. Using the few Cherokee words he knew, he in essence told them. “My name is Austin McCoy. This is my home.”
In a few moments, two riders came through the trees. The spotted horses waded the creek as they moved closer. Austin was cautious, he had no desire to die and he certainly didn’t want to leave Jolie unprotected.
Back at Austin’s cabin, Jolie rushed in, beckoning Sandy to join her. “Hurry!” She shut the door behind him, barring it by sliding the latch into place. Shaking with nerves, she looked around for a weapon. Running to the hearth, she found an iron poker. Just holding it made her feel better.
But what about Austin?
Unable to resist, she went to the back window. The shutter was closed, but she unlatched it, pushing it open wide enough for her to see through it. Jolie knew that Austin wouldn’t approve, but she was worried to death about him. She’d just found him; she wasn’t ready to lose him to a red man’s arrow. Seeing no one about, she grew braver and stood on a small stool so she could see better. In the distance, Jolie could make him out, standing in front of two mounted men with feathers in their hair. She let out a relieved sigh. He was alive. Holding her breath, she watched several more individuals ride up until Austin was completely surrounded. She couldn’t even see him for the horses and the travois sleds they dragged behind them.
Meanwhile… Austin spoke with his unexpected guests. As he sought to communicate with them, he was surprised when one of them began to speak fluent English. “Mr. McCoy. My name is Robert Fields. I am leader of my tribe.”
Austin frowned. “You don’t look like an Indian.” His skin was almost as light as Austin’s. Only his broad cheekbones and long black hair hinted at his ancestry.
“I am one-eighth Cherokee. White blood is weak. One drop of any other blood changes the color in a white man’s eyes.”
Austin couldn’t argue. “Where is your camp or are you traveling through?” Now that he had the opportunity, he felt inclined to ask questions. He did keep his eyes sharp, Fields was accompanied by what looked to be a small war party.
“Our camp is a day and a half journey’s north. I’ve only recently come to Texas. Originally, I hail from Tennessee. I led a group of my people in service to Andrew Jackson in the War of 1812.”
“I’m from Tennessee also.” He cut his eyes toward the cabin, giving himself assurance that no one was approaching the cabin where Jolie waited for him.
Fields nodded, his hands holding the reins of his mount loosely. “We have kept the peace by patrolling the Sabine against incursions and smuggling. In return, my people have been allowed to stay on this land.”
“When I crossed the Sabine, I was met by a gang of hooligans.”
Fields nodded. “There is much unrest. Many Anglos, like yourself, will come. We have just returned from meeting with men by the names of Edwards and Parmer. It is our aim to secure a permanent land grant for my people and they have agreed to help us.”
Austin had no quarrel with these people or with their plan. Frankly, he was so taken aback to be confronted by such a well-spoken savage, it took him a little while to figure out that they’d come to trade. He had cattle and they wanted beef.
Bartering one of his steers wasn’t something he’d planned, but this time the Indians had an offer he was willing to accept. When it was over, they left with a big steer and he had an armload of items and a barrel of ground corn. Now, he wouldn’t have to be in such a big rush to travel to Nacogdoches. Jolie would be pleased and so was he. He stood and watched his visitors depart, wondering at the outcome of all the pushing and tugging for ownership of land.
When Jolie saw the horses and riders depart, she felt weak with relief. Seeing Austin begin to make his way toward her, she tugged the shutter closed and hurried to the front. Unlatching the door, she and Sandy ran out, around the house and straight toward Austin. “Are you unhurt?” she asked.
“I am.” He gave her a broad smile. “You were concerned for me?”
“I was. So much.” She ran to him, clasping his arm and laying her cheek against the material of his coat.
Austin knew their relationship had changed. He didn’t bother to analyze what had happened or the moment it occurred, the catalyst wasn’t important. No matter the reason, he was pleased by the outcome. How they’d proceed, he didn’t know, but the process excited him. “I have something for you.”
“You do? What did they want? Were they friendly?” She knew her questions were too fast; she wasn’t giving him a chance to answer. “I was so nervous for you. I’m glad they’re gone.”
“Me too,” he assured her, bending his head to rest briefly on hers. “They were friendly. The Chief’s name was Richard Fields. They wanted to trade some goods for beef.” He held the packages out. “Let’s go in and I’ll go back for our vegetables and take care of the hog. I don’t have as many as we gathered, they took some of those also.”
“We had plenty.” She was just so glad he was all right. Jolie followed him in and marveled at what he gave her. “Why did the Indian Chief have a regular sounding name?”
Austin shrugged. “He was part-white, his skin just a little darker than me.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to tell who is white and who isn’t,” she whispered, feeling uneasy. Jolie looked at the things Austin had in his arms, anywhere but at his eyes. “So, even though he’s only part Indian, he’s considered an Indian?”
“Yes, I suppose. I think if you’re any part another race, you take on the name of that race.”
“No matter how small?” Jolie didn’t know why she kept pushing.
“Yes, there’s talk up north about establishing a one-drop rule. One drop of another race and that’s how you are identified.” Austin shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not saying it’s right, but I think that’s the direction things are going.” He chuckled. “If you have several mixed in, I’m not sure what you’d do. I’m Scottish, with a little Irish and English thrown in for good measure. I’m not sure what to claim. I guess I’ll just say I’m a Texan.”
“I like that.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“But that doesn’t affect us, does it? Look what I got you. This is a soft dress for you to wear, two of them. Both are made from doeskin, one is white and the other brown.”
She touched the fine work on the dresses, tiny beads were woven into the leather. “They’re beautiful.”
“You’ll be beautiful in them,” he couldn’t help but say. “And look,” he held up something else for her to see, “moccasins with proper lacings.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes shone when she looked up into his face. “I love them.”
“And we have ground corn. I won’t have to leave you anytime soon to buy more supplies.”
That news was the best of all.
While he returned for the food items he’d left outside, Jolie put her treasures away, deciding she wouldn’t worry about any one-drop rule. As long as she could keep her secret, everything would be fine.
Unable to wait, Jolie slipped on one of the dresses, arranged her hair and bit softly on her lips so they’d be rosy. Then, before Austin could return, she ran to the kitchen to begin preparing their supper. She knew butchering the hog would take a while, so she planned to make good use of the time.
Jolie was as happy as she’d ever been.
* * *
“Looks like we’ll have rain later on,” Austin announced as he came in with arms full.
Jolie ran to help him. “Oh, good, you brought the willow.” She took it from him and placed it carefully to one side to deal with later.
Austin laid the greens down next to the water barrel. “I brought a fresh ham too. We can put it on to cook for tomorrow.” When he turned to glance at Jolie, he froze. She was gorgeous! The dress only came to her knees, showing off her beautiful legs and it lovingly molded her breasts and hips, revealing a shape so exquisite, Austin couldn’t help but stare.
Jolie noticed his eyes on her. She couldn’t read his expression. “Do you like it? Is it not what you expected?”
“No, it’s not what I expected.” He swallowed. “You look like a princess.”
Blushing, Jolie muttered a “thank you” and returned to the food preparation. She was happy to have something to do. As she worked, she contemplated her situation. Jolie knew she was in a precarious position. Surviving in this savage land would be impossible on her own. If the truth became known, she’d be sent to the man who purchased her.
Back in Louisiana, it wasn’t uncommon for a bachelor to have a housekeeper, usually a woman of color. Well, she fit that description, even if Austin didn’t realize it. The possibility tormented her. Dare she ask him if she could stay? Could she make herself indispensable to him? Could she prove her worth so he’d grant her his protection?
As the wind rose outside the door, Austin worked in front of the fireplace, fashioning an axe handle. Periodically, Jolie would cast glances at him. The greens were simmering and she’d rolled out a crust for the chess pie. She was a little juberous about the lard she used, taking a tiny bit on her finger to taste. “Hmmm.” Maybe it wasn’t too strong.
Wanting to do more, to show him she was useful, Jolie found some socks of Austin’s that needed darning. After a bit more searching, she discovered a needle and thread. Sitting near him, close enough to the lamp, she began to sew.
“What are you doing?” Austin asked, once he’d stood up to stretch.
“Repairing your socks,” Jolie spoke softly. “You don’t mind, do you? I don’t like being idle.”
“No. I certainly don’t mind. I appreciate it, thank you.” He knelt down next to her, watching her delicate hands move nimbly. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, of course.” Maybe. His nearness made her want to shift in her chair. She glanced up at his handsome face. He hadn’t shaved this morning and the scruff on his cheek seemed to beckon her fingers.
“Where were you going when your folks were killed?”
