Timecachers (55 page)

“Eh, sure, okay,” said Tom, still shocked by Sal’s arrival and at the same time trying to contain his amusement at Sal’s impersonation. He sounded like a cross between Jed Clampett and Ernest T. Bass. Tom stepped between the two locals, tipped his hat to them, and walked out the door with Sal. If either of them had looked back, they would have seen the two locals staring after them in open-mouthed bewilderment.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the cabin, Sal heard Tom ask, “What the heck are you doing here?” from the side of his mouth.

“Ain’t ye glad t’ see yer ol’ huntin’ buddy?” Sal replied, still in character.

“More than ever,” Tom replied. “But you can knock off the
Dukes of Hazzard
routine now. You sound ridiculous.”

“Not too ridiculous to get your butt out of a jam, dude. And you look pretty goofy with that dirt smeared all over your face. I’m just glad they were too stupid not to notice I didn’t have a hunting rifle.”

“The squirrels were a good detractor. You took a heck of a risk coming in there unarmed. Speaking of faces, what the heck happened to yours? Are those black-eyes for real? You look like you were kicked in the head.”

“Yeah, well, they ain’t part of the act. It’s a long and painful story that I’d rather forget about for a while.”

Tom gave him a sidelong glance and dropped the subject. He made a half-hearted attempt to wipe some of the dirt from his face. “How did you know about the story I was telling them?”

“We were outside listening to you, man. Almost had me believing you for a minute or two.”

“We?” asked Tom.

“Yeah, my posse.” He nodded toward the two men standing just off the trail in front of them, just barely visible in the deepening twilight. “They’re why I wasn’t too worried about coming in unarmed.”

“John Carter! And Yonah!” Tom smiled as the two new arrivals clapped him on the shoulder. “But how did you …?”

Actually, we were on our way here, to Guwaya’s cabin,” said John Carter, “when we ran into him and his family on the trail. He told us what had happened—about Ahni being taken and what you were planning to do. Guwaya took our horses and continued on to his hideaway, while the three of us hiked here to see if you required our assistance. When we approached the cabin and heard voices, Yonah crept close enough to hear what was going on. That is how Sal knew about your fabrication. We came up with a plan to send in Sal to back up your story if need be.”

“It’s a most fortunate thing that you did,” said Tom. “I’m quite sure I was just about to have my head handed to me.”

“No way, dude. There was never any chance of that,” said Sal. “Not with us three dudes out here. We thought it would be better if I went in to back you up so you could skip out peacefully and not take a chance on blowing Guwaya’s cover.

“Old Tonto here quickly bagged a couple squirrels for props,” Sal continued. “Let me tell you—you don’t want to get in front of the business end of this old dude’s bow and arrow.”

“Great idea,” said Tom. “I think the squirrels are what convinced them. I don’t know if they knew what to think about Sal’s performance.”

“Hey man, if you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle ‘em with bullshit,” Sal gloated.

“So,” said Yonah, “the Squirrel-man with the squirrels saved the day.”

They laughed at that, even Sal, who held up the squirrels by their tails and shook them in triumph.

“We should put more distance between ourselves and the cabin,” said John. “The others will be returning soon and may not be as gullible as those two. Let us make haste; we will be in full darkness before we reach Guwaya’s cave.”

With that, they set off for the cavern, filling in Tom on the events of the last several weeks along the way. Yonah explained how Sal received his injuries, in spite of Sal’s earlier reluctance to speak of it. Tom noticed that Sal didn’t mind too much; Yonah generously embellished the story with Sal’s acts of bravery. The relationship between Sal and Yonah had certainly turned out a lot different than Tom expected.

The telling also refreshed their memory of the desperate situation they faced. As they walked in the twilight, the joviality of the reunion and small coup faded into a more somber mood, like a night fog settling onto a mountaintop, obscuring the stunning views with dismal gray shadows.

Chapter forty-five

M
y home is just over yonder,” said Captain Martin, indicating a large, handsome house at the end of the street. The entire street, in fact, was lined with a dozen or so stately homes, contrasting with the rustic look of the other parts of town Adam and Alice had seen.

Captain Martin’s house was an elegant, attractively landscaped two-story residence, charmingly adorned by a copious wrap-around front porch. The porch flowed from the sides of a set of wide, sturdy steps, leading to the substantial walnut double doors of the main entrance. A sturdy railing with close-set balusters and generous support columns defined the front edge of the porch. Intricate lattice work was strategically draped above the railing, tastefully screening the view from the street and providing filtered shade on hot summer days. To the left of the entryway, the porch blossomed to a semi-circular pathway around a turret which formed the left front corner of the house. The right side of the porch led to a
porte-cochere
, through which a carriage could pass and allow visitors to disembark while sparing them exposure to the elements. Five gleaming windows on the second floor sparkled in the brilliant orange glow of the setting sun above the porch. The house was hardly a mansion, although it was amply proportioned and had the curbside appeal of a lavish southern plantation house.

“Quite a place,” said Adam. “Military pay must be pretty good these days.”

“I am afraid the pay is quite modest,” Captain Martin answered, not appearing to take offense at Adam’s remark. “This house does not belong to me. It was provided to us when I was transferred here. Most of these homes were owned by the prosperous Cherokees who lived here. Many of the owners sold them to private buyers when they relocated west, but a few, like this one, were purchased by the military for officer housing.”

As they ascended the porch steps, the front door swung open revealing a young woman wearing a floor-length summer dress. The puffy lower sleeves and narrow waistline of the deep royal blue day gown rose to a wide, modest neckline, where it delineated the alabaster complexion of her shoulders. Loose coils of auburn hair framed her unpretentious face, which glowed with a healthful radiance. Her countenance was generally unremarkable except for her deep, azure-blue eyes, so strikingly captivating that one instantly fixated upon them. The effect gave her a classic and intelligent look, the way one might expect a Romantic poet of the Georgian Era to appear.

Captain Martin sprinted up the porch steps, embraced the woman and tenderly kissed her on the cheek. “Constance,” he said, “these are our guests I spoke to you about, Adam Hill and Alice Delvecci.”

“Welcome,” said Constance, only momentarily making eye contact with Adam and Alice before shyly looking downward, aware that her striking eyes could be unsettling to some people at first. “Please come in. I hope you will be most comfortable here.”

Her demure smile implied that whatever profound thoughts she held would not be hastily imparted, being thoroughly pondered and tested for flaws before they would be spoken, as if speaking them aloud certified them as fact. To her, prattle was not only ill-mannered, it was intolerable.

They entered the house through a well-appointed entryway, the most prominent feature of which was the ornately carved walnut staircase leading to the second floor. Surrounding the staircase were several closed doors, also of carved walnut, and an open doorway partially obscured behind the staircase which led to the kitchen area. The floor was made from wide planks of hard, yellow Georgia pine, and every corner and door frame was trimmed with intricately carved walnut, from the foot-high baseboards to the crown molding lining the ceiling fifteen feet above them.

Constance opened the closest door and said, “Would you care to sit with us in the parlor?” She gestured for them to enter the room.

The parlor was tastefully appointed. Less ornate than the entryway, it had the inviting, comfortable atmosphere of a practical, yet elegant, living area. The bulk of the furnishings in the sitting area were English imports, complimented with a few sturdy American made pieces, most notably a writing desk and a card playing table.

Constance cast them a graceful smile. She sat in a maroon French country wing chair, and said, “Please,” indicating that they should take seats wherever they felt comfortable. Captain Martin stood resting his hand on a mahogany armchair. He glanced at Alice, waiting for her to sit first as his manners dictated. She and Adam took a seat on the small sofa facing their hosts.

“You have a very beautiful home,” Alice said to Constance.

“Thank you, but I am afraid I cannot take credit for it. The house was provided for us.”

“Yes, Captain Martin told us that, but it has been decorated wonderfully.”

“Nearly everything you see was provided with the house. We are fortunate to have been offered it. I suppose it was part of the military’s enticement to make this distasteful assignment more palatable to James.”

Captain Martin’s face showed a slight hint of disapproval at her remark. He said nothing and the look disappeared almost instantly, but not before it was noticed by Adam and Alice.

Alice decided not to question Constance’s comment for the moment. “Goodness, it’s quite a large house for only two people. Do you have children?”

“Yes, we have two daughters, Emily and Sarah.” She indicated a portrait of two small girls hanging above the fireplace mantle. “They came with us when we first moved here, but we recently sent them back home to school.”

“Aren’t they lovely!” said Alice, to Constance’s obvious delight. Captain Martin allowed his pride to show, for once not attempting to mask his feelings. “Where is home for you?”

“James and I are from Tennessee, near Jonesborough. We both have large families there. It is quite a beautiful area. Have you ever been there?”

“Yes, both Adam and I have visited there. I agree, it is very beautiful with lots of surrounding mountains.” She didn’t mention that they had been in Jonesborough while hiking the Appalachian Trail, since it wouldn’t exist for about a hundred years. “You must miss your daughters, though. Will they be returning from school soon?”

“Well, I am not certain,” she said. “I guess it depends on how things develop here in Georgia.” This time is was her turn to send a meaningful glance to Captain Martin.

“We sent them home to school not only for their education,” said the captain. “Our decision was also based on the events occurring here.”

“Because you were concerned for their safety?” asked Alice.

“Partly. Most of all we wanted to spare them exposure to the unchristian actions being taken here.” The captain’s frank remark was followed by a conspicuous pause. It wasn’t the sort of remark either Adam or Alice expected to hear from him.

“Are you talking about the violence, like what happened to Rebecca? Or the Indian removal in general?” Adam asked.

“No decent man would condone what was done to Mrs. Deerinwater. Unfortunately, that type of violence is part of the world we live in, and we could not realistically expect to completely shelter our children from it. We can counter it by teaching them proper behavior and giving good examples. What we were not willing to do was to have them witness the unchristian actions of our government against an entire race of people.”

Until now, he had shown them nothing but a complete dedication to his duty, revealing no hint of his personal feelings about it. He had shown compassion of course, exhibited during Rebecca’s rescue, but this last statement exposed a personal conflict between duty and his true feelings.

“Forgive me,” said Adam, “but I have to ask. If you feel that way then why …”

“Why am I partaking in it? Because I am a soldier with a sworn duty.”

Alice wasn’t about to let him off so easy. “A sworn duty? What about the duty to the Christian beliefs you claim to have? How can you justify being part of this atrocity? Good lord, do you think it exonerates you just because you sent your children away, to where they don’t have to witness what you’re doing?”

“Alice,” said Adam, “take it easy. If you remember, Captain Martin saved Rebecca’s life today. Mine too, probably.”

“It is quite alright, Adam,” Captain Martin said. “Alice’s questions are none that I have not heard before.” His eyes shifted momentarily to Constance. “None that I have not asked myself, for that matter. As for the matter of my daughters, I fully intend to tell them about the events here, as well as the part I played in them. The reason for sending them away was not to hide that from them, but to spare them from living through it. When they are older, they can make their own judgment about my actions.

“I hope they will understand that as a soldier I have a duty to obey the orders of my superiors. My choice was to resign my commission or stay on and carry out those orders as honorably as possible. Since the removal will occur regardless of my decision, I chose the latter. I also had to consider my duty to support my family. General Wool decided to resign his commission rather than carry out this removal, but I have not had the luxury of a general’s salary to fall back upon. Not even those of a captain for that long for that matter.”