American Dreams (40 page)

Eliza dropped the book on a chair and continued on to the crude wooden stand that served as both sink and worktable. "At the rate you are moving, it will be suppertime before you finish. Give me that."

Impatiently, she reached for the clay bowl Cassie was scouring, but the wet sides of the bowl slipped from her fingers. Eliza cried out in dismay as the homemade pottery crashed to the floor, breaking into pieces.

"My bowl." She fell to her knees.

"I'll picks 'em up fo' you, Miz 'Liza." Cassie stooped down to collect the broken pieces.

"I don't need your help," Eliza retorted. "I don't need anyone's help. Just... go away and leave me alone."

Outside the shack, Will heard every unusually harsh word Eliza had spoken. And each one struck him like the lash of a whip. He had never meant to hurt her. But he had. She was going to have a baby—his baby. He had buried so many.

Slowly, Will walked to the doorway, then paused. Black Cassie continued to hover beside Eliza. Will nodded for her to leave them. As Cassie's broad, bare feet carried her to the doorway, Eliza let the rest of the pieces lie untouched on the floor, her shoulders sagging in an attitude of defeat. For a few seconds, Will stared at her bowed head. What had he done to her? He took a step toward her.

Hearing it, Eliza immediately busied herself gathering up the rest of the broken pieces. "I dropped it," she said defensively. "It was the best bowl I made, too. Shadrach will have to dig some more clay and make another one."

Will hesitated a fraction of a second, then said, "Don't bother. On my way back from the council meeting, I will stop by the sutler's store and buy some dishes and whatever else we need."

When he mentioned the council meeting, she looked up sharply, but didn't remark on his sudden decision. "I thought we couldn't afford such things."

"He will give us credit. Make a list of the things we need so I can take it with me."

"I will."

As he turned away, he spotted the leather-bound book on the chair. "What is this?"
 

"A gift from Nathan."
 

"That was thoughtful of him."

"Yes, it was," she agreed briskly.

"You would have been better off if you had married him when he asked you, Eliza. You would have been spared a lot of hardship and suffering."

"Have I ever complained, Will Gordon?" she demanded.

"No, but—"

"And I won't, either. I never asked to be spared anything. And I don't regret refusing to marry Nathan. I didn't love him." She gathered up the material of her long apron, making a pouch out of it. "When are you leaving to go to the meeting?"

"This afternoon."

"I'll get started on the list right away. Tell Cassie to come back and finish the dishes."

 

Nearly six thousand attended the council meeting at Takatokah, called by the western Cherokees ostensibly to welcome the new arrivals. The first days were a reunion of sorts, with everyone getting acquainted and reacquainted with each other. Will tried to join in, but he found the reminiscences about the past painful. He was glad when John Brown, the chief of the western Cherokees, stepped up to address the gathering, signaling the beginning of the formal speeches of welcome.

"We joyfully welcome you to our country. The whole land is before you. You may freely go wherever you choose and select any places for settlement which may please you, with this restriction, that you do not interfere with the private rights of individuals. You are fully entitled to the elective franchise, are lawful voters in any of the districts in which you reside, and are eligible to any of the offices within the gift of the people. Next October, according to law, the term of service of the chiefs will expire and any of you are eligible to those seats. Next July will be an election in our districts for members of both houses of our legislature, for judges, sheriffs, et cetera. At those elections you will be voters and you are eligible to any of those offices. A government was, many years since, organized in this country, and a code of laws was established, suited to our condition and under which our people have lived in peace and prosperity. It is expected that you will all be subject to our government and laws until they shall be constitutionally altered or repealed and that in all this you will demean yourselves as good and peaceable citizens."

But John Ross objected to the loose form of government practiced by the western Cherokees and urged that the code of law be revised and extended, and a new constitution written. At approximately the same time as the proposals and counterproposals were going back and forth, Will noticed Shawano Stuart and The Blade arrive, along with the Ridges, Elias Boudinot, and several other members of the treaty party. They immediately became the cynosure of hostile glares.

"Why are those traitors here?" Kipp snarled. "John Ross should order them to leave."

"He seeks peace and a united Cherokee Nation. He has never once wavered from that goal," Will replied thoughtfully, aware that their leader had never stopped fighting despite the personal losses he had suffered.

"But he forgets our laws," Kipp stated and stalked away.

Gazing after him, Will realized for the first time how all-consuming his son's hatred had become. Kipp had always been angry about something, but this behavior went beyond anger and resentment to something much more volatile and violent. And the faces of the men now joining his son showed the same thirst for vengeance that was so evident in Kipp's.

 

 

 

33

 

 

Grand View Plantation
 

Cherokee Nation, Indian Territory
 

June 21,1839

 

Heavy with child, Phoebe waddled to the chair next to Temple's, then carefully eased herself into it and leaned back to enjoy the cool breeze that wafted through the dogtrot of the double log cabin. When she placed a hand on the large mound of her protruding stomach, Temple caught the movement and glanced sharply at her.

"Are you all right?" She continued rhythmically snapping beans into the pan on her lap while she studied her maid. The baby wasn't due for another two months yet, but babies didn't always come when they were due.

"I'm fine." Phoebe picked up the pail of beans and lodged it between her knees. "With as much kicking and carrying on as this baby's doing, it has to be a boy. Little Lije was like that, wasn't he?"

"He was very active." Temple smiled at her son, who was happily rocking back and forth on the wooden horse Shawano had made for him, complete with a set of leather reins.

From the dogtrot, Temple could watch the work being done on their new home. Already, wooden planks skirted the lower half of the skeletal frame of the two-story house. Nestled amidst a grove of trees with a hill rising behind it to break the north wind, the house was large, larger even than their previous home in what was now Georgia.

Within days after rejoining his father, The Blade had started working on plans for the house. A month later, he hired a master carpenter from Arkansas and construction on it had begun.

Often in the first few months, Temple had wondered at the change in him. Before, he had left most of the decisions to his father, but here he had taken charge almost from the moment they arrived. In nearly any direction she looked, she could see the results of his recent labors, from the enlarged Negro quarters to the orchard of young apple and peach trees; from the new fields of cotton and corn to the new storage sheds. She had never seen him work so long or so hard, but he had a son now. She was certain that was the cause.

Again she smiled at Lije as he rocked vigorously back and forth, exhorting his wooden steed to go faster. The gleaming black hair came from both of them, but the deep blue shade of his eyes came from The Blade. Lije wasn't three yet, but already he had a mind of his own.

Hearing a whisper of movement behind her, Temple started to turn. Phoebe screamed and struggled out of her chair, dumping the pail of beans onto the dirt floor of the dogtrot. Temple came quickly to her feet.

"Kipp." All the high alertness and tension drained from her in a rush of relief. "We never heard you ride up. Where is your horse?" She expected to see it tied to the rear post of the dogtrot, but it wasn't there.

"I left it back in the trees. Are you alone?" He stayed in the deep shadows of the cabin wall, his gaze darting suspiciously about.

When Lije ran over and hid behind her skirts, Temple grew irritated with her brother. "No, I am not alone. Phoebe and Lije are here."

"That isn't what I meant."

"No, they are not here," she snapped, well aware that he was referring to The Blade and Shawano. Forcing the anger from her voice, she bent down and gently pushed Lije toward a kneeling Phoebe. "Help Phoebe pick up the beans and put them in the pail." But she made no attempt to keep the anger from her expression when she faced Kipp. "Don't sneak up on us like that again."

"I never meant to frighten you."

"Well, you did. Now, what is it you want?"

"To see you." He shifted uncomfortably, but never left the shadows. "I was on my way home. The council meeting adjourned today." His eyes took on a mean look. "I noticed your husband didn't stay long."

"No, he didn't." The Blade attended only one day of the session. From what little he had told her, Temple surmised that he and the others hadn't been made to feel welcome.

"He was there long enough to cause trouble. He and the Ridges were seen talking to Brown. Everyone knows they convinced the western Cherokees to walk out of the meeting without voting on Ross's proposal to write a new constitution and code of laws."

"I know nothing about that." The pounding of a hammer echoed across the clearing.
 

"Your new house?"
 

"Yes." She nodded affirmatively.

"A new house, an orchard, new fields. And we live in a shanty that wouldn't have been considered fit for our Negroes at Gordon Glen."

"You can build something better."

"With what?" He sneered. "The government hasn't paid
us
yet for our home and property. And when they do, it won't be as much as they paid your husband and his father for theirs, even though ours was worth more."

"I don't know that and neither do you!" Temple flared. "If you only came to hurl more of your accusations at my husband, then you can leave right now. I don't want to hear it."

"I—I came to ask you to come visit Eliza tomorrow. She has been alone lately. She could use some company. And I know Father would like to see you too."

Taken aback by his unexpected request, Temple didn't know what to say. Somehow this concern for Eliza and her father didn't sound like Kipp.

"Will you come tomorrow?" There was an edge to his voice that took the question and turned it into a demand.

"I am not certain I can. The Blade sent word he would be back tomorrow."

"Where is he?"

Temple hesitated, fighting the uneasiness she felt at Kipp's questions. "He went to Arkansas to buy more blacks."
 

"And he'll be back tomorrow. What time?"
 

"Early afternoon, I expect. Why?"

Kipp shrugged. "If he won't be back till then, you can still come visit in the morning, have dinner, and be back here in the afternoon."

"I suppose."

"Doesn't the old man spend his mornings at the sawmill?"

"Yes." She eyed him suspiciously. "How did you know?"

"That's the talk around. I heard you could set your clock by him, that he leaves every day exactly at eleven-thirty for dinner."

"He usually comes home for dinner if there aren't any problems at the mill," Temple admitted, then frowned. "Why are you asking me all these questions?"

"Because I want you to see that you have no reason for not coming tomorrow."

"Why does it have to be tomorrow?"

"Why not tomorrow? It has been nearly two months since your last visit."

"I know." What with the new house, spring work, and sudden rainstorms, something always seemed to prevent her from going.

"Temple, when have I ever asked you to do something for me? Please, I want you to come tomorrow. It's important. I wouldn't ask otherwise," Kipp insisted, the urgency in his voice as frightening as the look in his black eyes. "Will you come? Do I have to beg?"

"No. I'll be there." She hadn't realized how much tension had been in him until she saw the relief smooth it from his broad features.

"Good." He smiled.

Kipp stayed a few more minutes, then left. Temple moved to the back of the dogtrot and watched him cross the narrow clearing behind the log cabin.
Cunning, furtive.
Temple didn't want to associate those words with her brother, yet those were the impressions he had given her.

He was a man now, with wide, muscled shoulders like their father's but without his extreme height. She found it difficult to think of her brother as being handsome, but he was.

She had become used to his spiteful anger and his vicious prejudices. Sometimes she forgot how hard he had taken Xandra's death and, even harder for him, their mother's. His family and their well-being were important to him. He did care. As much as Kipp hated The Blade, and as upset as he was that she had gone back to him, he hadn't turned his back on her. He still came to see her. She shouldn't have been surprised by his concern over Eliza and their father or his insistence that she come to visit.

When he reached the spot where he had concealed his horse, Kipp untied the reins and swung quickly into the saddle. When the horse and rider emerged from the trees and entered a patch of bright sunlight, Temple saw the horse's lathered sides. Why had he ridden his horse into a sweat just to get here? Why the urgency? Temple became uneasy all over again, doubt and suspicion rushing back.

 

A black cloud moved stealthily across the moon, stealing its light and intensifying the darkness of the midnight hour. The flames from a half dozen torches dipped and swayed in the errant night breeze as if dancing to the rhythm of silent drums. Their wavering glow played across the faces of the men closest to them, many of which were hidden behind masks. Beyond the yellow light, the night seemed darker, making indistinct the shadowy shapes of more men, several hundred on foot and on horseback.