Tennessee Bride

by Rosanne Bittner

  “You damned Indians find someplace else to settle,” a man shouted from somewhere. “Be gone by tomorrow morning, or we’ll be back!”

  “Dan, Hal got hurt bad! Must have hit a tree branch,” someone not far away yelled out.

  Emma cringed, terrified that they would be found.

  “Pick him up and let’s get out of here. I don’t like hangin’ around too long,” someone answered.

  There was a commotion nearby. “Throw him over his horse. Is that damned gelding all right?”

  “I think so.”

  Emma kept Joshua close to her breast, praying to the Maker of Breath that he would not cry. The men nearby finally left, and River carefully looked up from the ravine. Emma wanted to weep at the thought that life was such a constant terror for the Cherokee she had grown to love. There was no earthly reason for the treatment they were getting, and her heart ached with disappointment at the thought of having to move on again and pick another spot. She wondered if she would ever have a permanent home.

  “Come on,” River said, helping her up. “We can go back now.”

  “River, you’re naked!”

  He looked down at himself. “Give me Joshua’s blanket. It is a warm morning. He will be all right.”

  She took the blanket from Joshua and River tied it around himself.

  “River, do you think… I mean, that one man saw you running naked. Your bottom… it’s whiter than the rest of you. He’ll know you’re white.”

  “Maybe not. Some Cherokee are lighter than others. And I hit him so quick he probably will not even remember.”

  “Do you think Tommy was with them?”

  “I doubt it. These were men from some local settlement who got wind that we were settling up here. That means we cannot trade with them. We will have to keep going awhile yet. I am sorry, Emma.”

  “It’s all right, as long as nobody was hurt.”

  He put an arm around her and led her back to camp. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that their tent had been knocked down but not burned. A few others were on fire, which would mean more hardships, as others would have to share what they had with those who had lost their belongings.

  She felt River’s arm tighten around her and understood his almost agonizing need for revenge. As it was painful for the other men, it was killing him not to be able to fight back. These were brave, strong warriors. But white men’s rules and laws kept them from doing what came naturally, left them helpless to defend their families.

  “Joe! Joe, our father is dead!” Grace came running up to them, tears streaming down her face. “They rode through the tent before he could get out. Joe, they rode right over him! Gray Bear is dead!”

  “Oh, my God,” Emma whispered.

  River left her and hurried over to the site, crying out and going to his knees when he saw his Indian father’s battered body.

  Emma felt as though someone were turning a knife in her heart. In the few months she had been with these people, Gray Bear had been more of a father to her than Luke had ever been.

  Grace, Red Wolf, Mary, and Martin gathered around Gray Bear, and it hit Emma with full reality how grave the situation had become for the Cherokee. Worse, she could not get over the horrible dread of what could happen if any of the raiders had seen River Joe and knew who he was.

  She walked closer to River, cradling Joshua, tears welling up in her soul. She watched her husband helplessly, unsure how to comfort him. She had never had a father she could mourn, and it was unnerving to see a man like River Joe weep.

  She realized then what it must have been like for him when Yellow Sky died. How deeply he must have mourned her loss. Emma and Joe had had their share of sorrows, but then perhaps that was what made them stronger, and what had drawn them together in such a powerful bond.

  She walked closer, kneeling beside him, hesitantly putting a hand on his shoulder. “River?”

  He threw back his head, saying something in the Cherokee tongue. He turned then, embracing both Emma and Joshua.

  “You and Joshua are the only thing that keep me… from killing all of them,” he said, choking out the words. “May Esaugetuh Emissee give me the strength not to seek revenge.”

  “Oh, River, I love you,” she said, not knowing what else to say to him. “You have me and Josh. It’s all right, River.”

  “He was white! I’m tellin’ you the one that hit me was white,” Hal told his friends, grimacing at the painful swelling across his right shoulder and his forehead.

  “Them were all Cherokee. He just knocked you silly, that’s all.”

  “Goddammit, he was white. And I swear to God I seen a woman with gold hair runnin’ in front of him.”

  “Gold hair!” Some of them laughed. “He really did knock you silly!”

  “I’m tellin’ the truth!”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” the one named Ken put in. “When I was up to the Daniels settlement last year, somebody was goin’ around to some of the other settlements up this way askin’ if anybody knew where the Cherokee might be nestin’—wantin’ to know if anybody had seen a white man and white woman among them. I think he was from Knoxville—a redheaded guy—young. I think he was from some saloon or somethin’ down to Knoxville. If Hal really did see a white woman and a white man, maybe them’s the ones this redheaded fella was lookin’ for.”

  “Well, if it was, they’re long gone now,” another of the raiders answered. He threw the stub of a cigar into their campfire. “I ain’t gonna go chasin’ around these mountains for somebody that might not even really be up there. If the redheaded guy wants to find them, that’s his problem.”

  “I’m goin’ to Knoxville at the end of summer to do some tradin’,” Ken said. “I aim to look up that fella and tell him what Hal says he saw. Maybe he’ll pay to know.”

  “Go ahead,” another grumbled. “All I care about is that them damned Cherokee get the hell out of our territory. What happens to them after that ain’t my problem. Let’s head home come mornin’.”

  “I’m with you,” Hal said, holding his aching head. “Whoever that white man might be, I don’t aim to go at it with him again. He like to have killed me.”

  “We would have been better off if he had,” Ken replied. “Then we could report it and declare war on them bastards.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Hal grumbled.

  “They’re too damned smart to fight us back,” one of the others complained. “They got some educated ones among them who are actually fightin’ in the courts to be able to stay here. Can you believe it?”

  “Let them fight,” another growled. “It won’t do them no good. If we want them out of here, we’ll get them out. Ain’t no courts gonna tell us otherwise. This is our land, not theirs.”

  “That’s right,” Ken said. “Let them go to Indian Territory where they belong.” He took out the turban he had ripped from the head of the old man. He studied it for a moment, grinning at the memory of the Indian stumbling backward after Ken had torn the turban from his head and kicked him. He had ridden his horse over him then before he could rise.

  Ken threw the turban into the fire. “I wish they’d all just burn up like that,” he grumbled. “It would save us a lot of trouble.”

  Chapter 17

  Emma sliced a loaf of bread, glancing over at River, who sat cleaning his musket near the fireplace. River had been moody and quieter since Gray Bear’s death, and Emma wasn’t quite sure how to tell him she was pregnant again. Maybe this was a bad time to be having another baby. Little Joshua, who sat on a blanket on the floor not far from River, was only eight months old. He played with a tin cup, banging it against a spoon.

  “You want some supper, River?”

  He looked up at her as though just realizing where he was. His eyes moved over her lovingly. “Not much. I am not very hungry.”

  “Now that’s unusual for my big, strapping husband.”

  “Mary made me sample her ap
ple pie when I was over there. I ate about half of it.”

  Emma smiled, shaking her head. It was September 1825, and they had moved still farther from their old camp and had settled among another small village of Cherokee for the winter. The group they had joined were few in number, as over half of their village had been wiped out that summer by cholera. Altogether there were about 150 people in the village.

  River had quickly built a little one-room cabin and a frame for another bed, on which the handmade mattress again rested.

  “Come and eat your venison, River. The bread is still warm.”

  He ran a rag over the barrel of his musket, then laid it aside. “What do you think about Texas, Emma? Maybe we should go.”

  She watched him in surprise as he came to the table. “We can’t go this time of year, River. Winter will be on us soon.”

  “Winter isn’t all that bad down below. And they say it stays mild in Texas in winter.”

  “They also say the weather can change real fast, just like you know it can here in Tennessee. You never know when it will turn to freezing, or when it will storm. We could run into sleet, cold rain—and you don’t want to leave Mary and Grace and the others, and it might be dangerous for Josh. Besides… we can’t go yet, in spite of all those things.”

  He stood near his chair. “Is that some kind of order?”

  She looked down at the bread. “No. It’s just common sense. If I’m to have a lot of healthy babies, I have to take care of myself, don’t I?” She met his eyes then. “I’m going to have another baby, River.”

  She could not quite read his dark eyes as he frowned at her curiously. “You sure?”

  She nodded. “At first I wasn’t. I mean, it was hard to tell because I was breast-feeding and I didn’t get my time for a couple months after Josh was born. But then I did, and then it stopped again, so I thought it was still because of breastfeeding. But I’ve felt little movements.” She searched his eyes and put a hand to her stomach. “I know the feeling now. I just… I hope it’s all right with you. It’s awfully soon. Grace says it’s unusual to get pregnant so soon while breast-feeding.”

  A slow smile moved across his lips. “Well, it wasn’t all your own doing, you know. Did you think I would be angry or something?”

  She smiled nervously. “I wasn’t sure. You’ve been so distant ever since Gray Bear.…” She blinked back tears. “I wish you’d be my River again. Lately you seem to be here only in body, not in spirit. I’m with you and yet I miss you.”

  He sighed deeply, walking up to her, and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Emma.” He kissed her hair. “I’m glad about the baby.” He squeezed her tight, and she breathed in his sweet scent. “We both want lots of sons and daughters. And you’re right. We can’t go to Texas. The important thing is that you have another healthy baby.”

  He pulled back, bending down to meet her mouth, and she knew by his kiss that he was pleased. The kiss lingered, and she returned it with sudden passion, reaching up around his neck and feeling the quick, sweet pulsations deep inside that he always awakened in her. He left her lips and held her close, her feet off the ground.

  “Oh, River, I was afraid you’d be angry. I don’t know exactly why—I guess because of all our worries. But nobody came back after that raid, and Tommy Decker hasn’t come back. Maybe he finally gave up, River.”

  He kissed her neck. “Maybe,” he answered, not really believing it. He decided not to spoil her joy over the baby with his suspicions that Tommy had not given up at all. Besides, maybe she was right. Maybe things would be all right now. Perhaps he was letting his grief over Gray Bear magnify his worries. It was obvious he had already let it affect Emma. She had been suffering quietly, afraid to share even her news about another baby.

  “River, I hope this will be another healthy one. I was so relieved when little Josh was born so perfect and beautiful. I can do it again, I know I can!”

  “Of course you can.”

  She met his dark eyes, still almost overwhelmed that this man belonged to her. “Make love to me, River. You were gone so long hunting, and…” Her face began to redden. “I’ve missed you. Josh is playing, and the meat will keep in the roasting pot. I feel so good, being able to finally tell you—”

  He cut off her words with another kiss, enjoying the sweetness of her mouth as he felt the sudden desire at her innocent request. She was going to have another baby. His Emma was healthy and fertile and beautiful, and they were all well. He must stop worrying about what might be and think about what is. He must forget about the dead and think about the living. This woman had brought him comfort after losing Yellow Sky, and she had been a good, sweet, devoted wife. He picked her up and carried her to the bed.

  Joshua watched, blinking big, brown eyes, wondering at the way his mother and father were rolling on the bed, then taking off their clothes. It made no sense to the baby, and he proceeded to put the tin cup over his mouth and nose and make noises into it.

  Emma’s dress was already to her waist, and River kissed wildly at her shoulders, her breasts.

  “Oh, River, everything is going to be good now. You’ll see,” she said.

  His clothes came off, and hers. He met her mouth again in a steamy kiss that was almost like another form of intercourse. She gave a little push, rolling over so that River was on his back, and now she was the master, kissing back with near wantonness, her cascading golden hair caressing his shoulders and face. She left his lips, her cheeks crimson with a mixture of embarrassment and wicked desire.

  “I want to try it, River—what you told me about once. I want to try it before I get too big with this baby.”

  He moved a hand over her full breasts, then both hands down over her waist and to her thighs. “I would love you to try it, Agiya.”

  He kept a gentle hold on her thighs as she scooted down. She took her hand and caressed her man, guiding him into her depths as she settled over him. She gasped at the glory of it, rocking gently as he pushed with her.

  “River! River,” she whispered, the thrill of being so brazen bringing out her wildest passions. He was her grand stallion, and she rode him in splendid ecstasy as his big hands caressed her thighs, grasping at her bottom, moving up to squeeze her breasts gently.

  He drank in her beauty, the cascading waves about her shoulders, the golden hair of her love nest, the wonder of how he fitted into her. After several minutes he felt her throbbing climax. She came down over his chest and he rolled her over, pushing into her then with his own wild desires, now the master.

  For several minutes they moved in sweet rhythm, until his life spilled into her.

  Joshua threw the tin cup he was playing with, then stared at it a moment, his lips puckering. Perhaps if he cried his mama would go and get it for him, and he wouldn’t have to go to the trouble of crawling after it. Tears of frustration welled up in his big, brown eyes, then he opened his mouth and let out the noise that sometimes made his mother come to him to see what was wrong.

  “What’s wrong with Josh?” Emma asked, breathing deeply as River moved off of her.

  River sat up and gauged the situation. “He threw his cup aside and now he’s mad about it.”

  Emma laughed as Joshua looked up at her, tears rolling down his face.

  “You go get your own cup,” River said to the boy. “The men in this family do things for themselves.” He got up and walked over to the cup. “Come on. Come and get your cup. Use those fat little legs, Joshua Rivers.”

  Joshua sat there sniffling, his lower lip still hanging out. He looked from his mother to his father, then back to his mother.

  “Do what papa says,” Emma said. She got up from the bed and went to the washbasin.

  Joshua stared after her a moment, then looked back at his grinning father. “Come on. Come get the cup.”

  The boy’s tears subsided, and he suddenly grinned, rolling onto his hands and knees and scrambling after his toy.

 
Tommy sat down with two beers, shoving one in front of the man who had sought him out. “This better be worth a beer,” he said.

  “Might be worth more than that. I’d go for a ten-dollar gold piece.”

  “First I have to know if it’s worth it.”

  The man took a swallow of beer. “My name is Ken Daisy. I’m from a settlement way up in the mountains. I just come in to Knoxville to sell some farm goods and such—come every year at the end of the farm season.”

  “Yeah, yeah. So what?”

  Ken swallowed more of the brew, burping and wiping foam from his lip. “So last year on my way back home I saw you at the Daniels settlement and remembered you was lookin’ for a white man and white woman who might be livin’ among the Cherokee. I decided to hit every saloon in Knoxville this trip to see if I could find you. I thought I remembered you sayin’ you worked at some saloon here. You still lookin’ for a white man and white woman?”

  Tommy’s eyes glittered excitedly. “You’ve seen them? Did the girl have blond hair?”

  Ken frowned. “Why are you lookin’ for them?”

  “That’s my business. I asked if you saw them.”

  “Last spring. Wasn’t me that seen them. It was my friend Hal. We was part of a raidin’ party that went after some wanderin’ Cherokee who was fixin’ to settle not far from our farms. We didn’t like that, so we decided to pay them a visit and put a scare into them, know what I mean?”

  “I know.” Tommy grinned. “I’ve been on plenty of raids like that myself.”

  “Well, anyway, one of the Indian men, he turned and walloped my friend Hal with a big limb, or board or somethin’—knocked him and his horse down. We turned them Cherokee out early in the mornin’ while they was still asleep. This Indian, he came runnin’ out of his tent stark naked. And Hal swears his ass was as white as yours and mine. And he also swears that the woman runnin’ ahead of him and carryin’ a baby had hair gold as cornsilk.”