Freedom's Kiss

by Sarah Monzon

  “Your boy is a good teacher.”

  That voice. Both sweet and haunting.

  Slowly Winnie turned, gaze to the ground, afraid the ghost materializing in her mind would vanish the moment she laid eyes on the source and realized her past but played tricks on her present.

  Soft leather moccasins with bright blue-and-red beadwork peeked beneath the hem of a full skirt. Winnie’s pulse picked up speed as she slowly raised her eyes over a ruffle at the knee and a belt cinched at the waist. She licked her lips and forced herself to look up. Past a ruffle-trimmed blouse and into a face that at once was both known and unknown to her. How many years had it been since she’d beheld this face? Fifteen or more. Life had carved deep lines upon a once youthful complexion. Tears glistened in eyes she thought she’d never see again, and she blinked back answering ones of her own.

  They stood there. Staring. Drinking each other in. But the place in Winnie’s heart that had dried up so long ago couldn’t be refilled with sight alone. With a shout that rang with joy, she threw her arms up and around the woman, squeezing her as if she feared she’d lose her if she didn’t hold on tight enough.

  “Mother?”

  Winnie sniffed and leaned back but didn’t loosen her hold. Otter peered up at her, worry in his eyes, his feet braced as if willing to come to her aid.

  “It’s all right.” She tried to assure him, though the tears coursing down her cheeks caused his brow to furrow in doubt. He looked so much like his father with that expression. Though she knew he’d hate it, she pressed her thumb between his eyes and rubbed.

  He jerked back, his frown deepening. Though she didn’t need to explain herself to him, her heart swelled. He was growing into a protective little warrior. One both she and Nokosi were proud of. And one who wouldn’t leave without knowing she was well. “This woman…” Was a magnet to Winnie’s gaze. She stared back at her, still not believing her own eyes. “She…I thought…”

  The woman lowered to be on the same level as Otter. “I am your mother’s sister, Temperance.”

  Otter’s gaze swiveled between them before he shrugged and scampered off, assured no harm would come to his mother if this woman were family. Temperance straightened, her smile smoothing out the lines stacked along her forehead.

  “I can’t believe it’s you.” Disbelief tinged Winnie’s words.

  Radiance, like the sunrise on a cloudless sky, beamed from Temperance’s visage. “It’s me.”

  “But we thought…I mean, we all saw you go under at the river.”

  Her sister nodded. “The river dragged us downstream for some ways before we were able to grab ahold of a low-lying branch and pull ourselves to the bank. We tried to follow the river back upstream to you and Father and Isaac, but we never made it that far. A group of Yuchi found us, and we’ve been with them ever since.”

  Winnie looked over her sister’s shoulder as if William would materialize like a vapor from her past as Temperance had done, her heart constricting, guarding itself if her brother-in-law yet remained to the dead. “William?”

  “He’s translating for Mico-Noha.”

  That tight ball in her chest fully unraveled. She nodded to the boy with his head close to Otter’s, receiving further instruction. “And the boy?”

  “Our youngest. The other is with his father.”

  Winnie shook her head. “I still can’t believe it.” Her smile spread. “Wait until Father and Isaac see you.”

  Temperance blinked back emotion. “They’re alive?”

  Winnie rubbed soothing circles into her sister’s back. “They’re alive.”

  Her face rose to the sky, and she smiled despite the single tear that escaped the corner of her eye. When she lowered her head to look back at Winnie, sheer joy beamed off her. “I never dared hoped. After the last war, so many from our village were killed. Even the man who’d become sort of a new master to us was slain. But William had learned the language and risen in confidence with Mico-Noha that he was invaluable as a translator, and we were released as slaves and called brother and sister to the clan.” Her body trembled. “I didn’t know what had become of you or Isaac or Father. If you’d made it to Negro Fort only to be rounded up and returned to Master Rowlings. Or if you, like us, had stumbled upon a group of natives, if they were working for the army or would shelter you. Then the war… I feared even if y’all had managed to escape capture and being returned, that there was little chance Father and Isaac had survived the bloody war.”

  Winnie hugged her tight again, sifting through her mind as to Asa and Isaac’s location. They’d not been granted access to the treaty talks and had taken themselves to the outskirts for safety. Still close by in case conflict arose but far enough not to draw unwanted attention to the color of their skin by anyone wishing to cash in on bounties.

  Curling her tongue to the top of her mouth, she let out a distinct whistle. Otter jumped up and ran to her. She laid a hand on his shoulder and studied him. He was swift on his feet and on his way to becoming a man. While she liked to have him within sight, the time had come to let her boy test the span of his wings.

  “Do you know where to find your pawa and grandfather?”

  He glanced at Temperance before nodding.

  “Good. Run quick and tell them to come.”

  His shoulders squared before he darted away, bounding over exposed roots and dashing around palmetto fronds.

  Voices rose from the meetinghouse, muffled but loud and angry, drawing the attention of both women.

  “What does William say about the goin’s-on in there?”

  “They’re beginning to compromise. The men from the government have suggested a delegation of chiefs to go beforehand and inspect the land they’re offering and see if it’s acceptable or not. To talk with the Creeks and see how happy they are on the land.”

  “My husband says that no records are bein’ taken of things said and offered. To him it seems as if the men from the government aren’t speakin’ with honest sincerity.” A humorless grin twisted Winnie’s lips. “He likened them to copperhead snakes.”

  “A fitting description.”

  Winnie kept her eyes toward the direction Otter had run off to, waiting for three forms to emerge. She didn’t know what Otter would have told him, but Asa’d know only something of utmost importance would have her call for him.

  There. Movement by a far tree. She stepped forward, her skirt brushing against her ankle as she half turned to address her sister. “Stay and wait for my signal.” At Temperance’s nod, she gathered the folds of material in her hands and sprinted the distance to the trio.

  The whites of Asa’s eyes were large in his dark face, scanning the area, looking for the threat of danger that had had her sending for them. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Winnie pulled to a stop as Isaac pushed Otter behind his back, gaze also picking out every detail of their surroundings. “Don’t worry. Nothin’s wrong.”

  The grip of Asa’s hand on his axe didn’t loosen. Winnie reached forward and encircled her fingers around his wrist, wresting his attention away from the children playing, the women employed in daily chores, and the soldiers on watch. “There’s someone here who wants to see you.” She reached behind her with her other hand and motioned Temperance forward, keeping her gaze fastened on their father.

  The moment recognition dawned, Asa’s craggy face crumbled, wrenching sobs shaking his mountainous shoulders. Isaac sucked in a breath, dropped his bow, and raced the last few feet to Temperance, twirling her around in his arms, his deep voice muffled as he spoke with his face buried in her neck. Temperance nodded, and Isaac set her down in front of their father and took a step back.

  Asa’s and Temperance’s cheeks shone bright with dampness as Winnie brushed at her own tears. She felt a touch at her palm as Otter sidled up to her and slipped his hand in hers. She gave it a squeeze before returning her gaze to the unbelievable reunion.

  Asa took a step forward but then fell to his knees, his
hands covering his face as he cried. Temperance closed the distance as her knees also hit the ground, and she wrapped her arms around his shaking shoulders. Pulled by the connection of their hearts, Winnie knelt to the side of them, an arm around each of their backs. A second later she felt Isaac’s arms covering her own.

  The circle of their family, once thought to be forever broken, had been restored.

  Chapter 30

  Present Day, Florida

  Olivia eyed the laptop sitting on top of her tufted duvet cover as she pulled a brush through her hair. She winced when the brush snagged on a knot, and she rubbed the sore spot on her head. She glanced at her watch. Her shift started in forty-five minutes. She eyed the computer. A little multitasking wouldn’t put her behind schedule, and she could browse and scroll through the forums while she finished throwing her hair in a braid, brushed her teeth, and tied her shoes.

  Decision made, she let the hairbrush dangle from the tangled mess on the side of her head and opened the top of her computer. It booted up, and she typed in her password. The adoption forum she’d been on last popped onto her screen. She hit Refresh and worked on the knot in her hair as the little loading signal swirled.

  Her life had become a series of long shots. Getting a judge to sign off on releasing her original birth certificate—long shot. Finding any of her biological family through the reunion database—long shot. The most recent? Scouring adoption forums and posting like a child with a lost pet. Any identifying information she had on herself went up. Black hair, dark-brown eyes, five-foot-five inches in height. What she believed to be her birth date. Place of birth. She even posted a picture of herself and the DNA results Lily had gotten for her. If they still put lost persons on the side of milk cartons, she’d probably try that long shot as well.

  So far no one had contacted her, and she hadn’t come across anyone else in the forums who seemed to be looking for a woman matching her description. Just a lot of other people who were searching around in the dark, all lights turned off by the judicial system.

  The page reloaded, and two new entries began at the top of the thread. She read through them as she parted her hair in three strands and wove them together, tying off the braid at the end and letting it settle down the middle of her back. Her heart ached for the mother looking for her two boys she’d given up for adoption in the late seventies. The mother vowed she’d never give up until she found them. Olivia sent up a prayer on the woman’s behalf. The other entry wasn’t promising either. Another mother also searching for sons.

  Olivia sighed as she stood and walked to the bathroom. She turned on the faucet and let the water run over her toothbrush before squeezing a small dab of blue toothpaste on the bristles. Treading back to her bed, she plopped down and clicked on another open window and refreshed the page again. Her toothbrush nearly fell out of her mouth as her browser loaded and she read the heading of a new email: I think you’re my sister.

  Heart pounding, she clicked on the email, toothbrush dangling from parted lips and minty foam gathered at the edges. She devoured the torturously short note and then read it again.

  Hi! I saw your post on the adoption forum last night and couldn’t believe it! I think you’re my sister! I’ve been looking for you since our mom, Charlotte, told me about you two years ago. I’m attaching a picture of me. Don’t we look alike! I’m not basing our sibling status on looks alone, but the info you posted on your date and place of birth as well as what you know about your DNA. I really want to meet you. Do you think that would be okay? I’m going to be at the Intertribal Powwow this coming weekend. Call me @ 238-9837 and we can set something up. I can’t tell you how excited I am!

  Your Sister (I love the sound of that, don’t you?)

  Amy Kinnard

  Olivia bolted from her bed and ran to the bathroom, toothpaste shooting from her mouth and barely reaching the sink. She couldn’t believe it. All these years as an only child, begging her parents for a little brother or sister, wishing on shooting stars and birthday candles, and now all those wishes were possibly coming true.

  A sister. Her breaths came in rapid succession as she tried to simultaneously hold out hope that this Amy Kinnard really and truly was her sister while also maintaining a cautious balance that this girl could very well not be related to her at all.

  But if Amy was…

  Could she have other brothers and sisters? The short note didn’t say anything about other siblings, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any, did it? Amy had mentioned a mother. Charlotte.

  Olivia rolled the name around in her mind a few times, too nervous to actually say the name for fear this was all a dream that she’d wake herself up from. She loved the names, Amy and Charlotte Kinnard. But what of her father? Amy didn’t mention anything about a dad in her too-short email.

  So many questions. So many possibilities. Only one way to find answers.

  She swiped her phone from the porcelain counter and dialed.

  “Good morning, Seaside restaurant. How may I help you?”

  “It’s Olivia. Who’s the manager on duty?”

  “Dale.”

  Olivia grimaced. Katherine would’ve been an easier sell, but if she had to deal with Dale, she would. “May I speak to him please?”

  “Gotta warn you, he’s in a bear of a mood.”

  She worried her lip. “I’ll chance it.”

  “Your funeral.”

  Soft music danced over the line but did nothing to slow her throbbing pulse.

  The music shut off with a click. “Yeah?”

  “Dale, it’s Olivia. I’m supposed to be coming in for my shift in the next”—she glanced at her watch—“thirty minutes, but something has come up—an emergency—and I won’t be able to make it.”

  “Are you sick? Something contagious that you’d pass on to our guests?”

  She hesitated. “No, not exactly.”

  “Then you have one choice, Olivia. Either come in for your shift, or don’t bother coming back…ever.”

  She glanced at her computer screen before shutting her eyes. “Then I quit, Dale. I’ll be by on Friday to pick up my last check.”

  He cursed and slammed the phone.

  Olivia waited a moment, bracing herself against the remorse that would cause a buzzing in her ears, but it never came. Waiting tables had never been her dream, just a stepping stone, and Seaside had never let her jump off that rock.

  She looked down at her phone, a black screen staring back at her. Her hand trembled as she hit the Home button, unlocked it, and dialed the number in her email. It went straight to voicemail.

  “Hi, Amy, it’s me. Umm…Olivia. Your sister?” A nervous laugh punctuated the end of the sentence, and she pounded her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Or maybe your sister. We don’t know for sure yet, right? Anyway, I’d love to meet. Call me back…please.” She hung up the phone and threw it on the bed.

  “Well, that couldn’t have been inaner.” With hands over her eyes, she toppled backward into the mess of pillows near her country-chic headboard. She had a sister. Amy. Amy was her sister. Possibly.

  Shoot! She hadn’t even clicked on the file to look at her possible sister’s photo. She rolled onto her stomach and wiggled her finger over the pad to wake up the computer before clicking on the attachment.

  Her breath sucked through her teeth, making a whistling sound. Deep-chocolate eyes, strong cheekbones that pronounced a golden-hued complexion, and straight, silky oil-black hair.

  While Olivia wore hers to the middle of her back, Amy’s was cut in a stylish A-line bob that ended at her chin and framed her face. She might as well be looking in a mirror from her days right after high school graduation.

  A sister. Warmth flooded her limbs and heated her fingertips.

  She had to tell Adam!

  Bouncing off the bed, she peeled off her Seaside uniform and threw on a pair of denim Bermuda shorts rolled at the hem and her Southern Charm T-shirt. She slipped her feet into Croc clogs and
grabbed her purse and keys.

  When she pulled up behind the food truck, her brows dipped low. Where was everyone? Adam had started opening an hour earlier for those who took an early lunch, but the side window remained shut and there wasn’t a person in sight.

  She knocked on the back door, worry niggling her stomach. Maybe he’d gotten a late start in prep. But the door remained closed, and no sound came from inside. She walked around to the side. Locked. Hands on hips, she scanned the area, then stopped as her gaze snagged on a figure at the picnic table, elbows at ninety-degree angles, chin in palms, staring out over the field.

  The sight tugged at her heart, a perfect picture of lonely dejection. That soft whisper tickled her conscience. She couldn’t put it off any longer. Shelving her own recent news, she stepped toward Adam, dry grass crunching under her feet. Either he ignored her approach, or he was so deep in thought he didn’t even hear her.

  She lifted a leg over the bench and straddled it so she faced him. It took a second, but finally he blinked and turned his head to look at her. A tiny smile, one that read exhausted yet pleased at her presence, greeted her. He resembled the Farnese Atlas sculpture—the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  Her pulse, which had been frantic and running on high speeds of exhilaration, decelerated to an even rhythm. Slower, even…if that were possible. The air around them grew heavy with anticipation. Not the electric kind, charged with mutual attraction, but with a somber expectancy.

  His eyes, almost devoid of color, peered into her, unveiled. The struggle, the wrestling he’d been engaged in for longer than she’d known him, clear for her to see.

  She reached up and cupped the side of his face. Ran her thumb over the scruff of his short beard.

  He exhaled deeper than she’d ever heard a person expel breath. He didn’t have to say it. She read the exhaustion in every line of his face. A tiredness that ran deeper than the physical, although the slight puff to the skin under his eyes said he was that too.