Gather The Children (Chronicles of the Maca Book 2)

by Mari Collier

  “Young James can tattle and get away with hit. How'd it sound if ah'd come running in tellin' on Martin?” He hesitated and then looked up at MacDonald. “'Sides Martin's my friend. Ah couldn't let him go in there alone.”

  MacDonald allowed a slight tugging at his mouth. “It would nay have been tattling if ye had asked for help in a situation that twas beyond yere abilities.”

  “Y'all mean y'all would have helped me?” Lorenz stopped and then admitted, “Yeah, reckon y'all would have come to help Martin.”

  MacDonald shook his head. “And have I nay been helping ye ever since ye rode into Arles with that huge ball of hate in yere guts?”

  The question rocked Lorenz. Help? The man had been nothing but a jailer as far as he was concerned. True, he had on clothes that fit, food in his belly, and a place to sleep, but he was a prisoner just the same. “Y'all ain't done nothin' but kept me from doin' what ah want,” he exploded.

  “And what twould ye be wanting to do?”

  They had been staring at each other since the first question, and Lorenz felt his resolve vanish. He let out his breath, turned, and leaned up against one of the crates. “Ah dont know,” he admitted aloud. Zale was dead, and he was damn tired of being alone. All those years he dreamed of being with his ma, and it sure looked like he was doing his best to throw it away.

  “Ye may wish to think about it. Now, as to what ye twill do the next time ye run into a dangerous situation. Ye twill come to me and ask for assistance.”

  Lorenz turned and searched the face of the big man. Wasn't there going to be a whipping? Why was he talking about a next time? He squared his shoulders. No time to push things he decided. “Yes, suh.” If MacDonald wanted to give him another rule instead of a whupping, he'd put up with it.

  MacDonald had a tight smile on his face. “Lorenz, do ye nay ken? Ye had done everything right up until ye walked into that place. Ye correctly evaluated a situation, determined what the outcome would be, and tried to warn the person with ye. Ye could nay have done better if ye twere full-grown.”

  Some of the anger left Lorenz. The man wasn't beating on him, and he sure as hell wasn't yelling. If anything, it sounded like he was being praised. He straightened and faced MacDonald. “They called me bear cub.” Would this make the man mad? He waited for the roar. Instead MacDonald was amused, his brown eyes dancing; his usual slight smile had become a half-smile, twisting one corner of his mouth upward.

  “They called Martin wolf cub and wanted to know if we had learned to bite. So ah showed 'em what a bear cub could do.” He stopped, waiting for the big man to say his words of derision, but none came.

  MacDonald recognized the pleading cry in Lorenz's eyes, and removed Lorenz's hat, with one hand and ran the other through Lorenz's hair, gently enfolding his hand around the youth's neck. “And bite ye did, laddie, but ye had nay to prove to me in that manner. As for being bear's cub, I have already told ye that ye are welcome in my House and in my heart. Why have ye nay believed me?” His thumb was running up and down the side of Lorenz's neck.

  Lorenz felt the heat rising within him and the air felt close. Instinctively he reached up and grabbed the forearm of the hand holding his neck. “'Cause ah cain't ever be what y'all are. Ah ain't never goin' to be as tall, or as big, or as strong.”

  MacDonald shook his head. “Aye, and what has that to do with it? Ye twill grow taller, though nay as tall, and ye twill put on some weight, though nay as much, but there are many things that I can teach ye about fighting and putting extra power into yere frame. None of that, however, has anything to do with the man that ye twill be.”

  “Yeah, and y'all are going to let someone like me call y'all paw.” Derision laced his voice and covered his face.

  The smile left MacDonald's face. “Ye may call me fither, as that tis my way, or ye may call me Papa as that tis your mither's way. Ye may nay call me paw as that tis the way of others.”

  Lorenz was left dumb for a moment and finally stammered out, “I don't know your ways.”

  “Ye are learning, laddie. If ye spent as much time studying our ways as ye do fighting me, ye would learn much faster.”

  “Ah doan fight yu'll,” Lorenz protested as he reverted to the border drawl.

  MacDonald shook his head. “Ye have done nay but fight me every step of the way. Even when ye say, 'yes, suh,' ye are thinking of some way to get even or to leave.”

  Lorenz could not respond. What the big man said was true, and yet, it wasn't true. Like when he didn't shoot him. Think about it, he had been told. He had thought, and grudgingly he had come to admit that he admired this man, wanted to be like him, but he was afraid; afraid of the things that men do to one another, and he had no strength to stop this one, and yet his eyes continued to beg the big man to tell him he was worthy of being bear cub.

  MacDonald gave one of his half-smiles and used his other hand to thump Lorenz on his chest. “I could tell ye to call me fither, but until ye believe it here, it twould be another lie.” He dropped his arm to Lorenz's shoulder. “And now we must go see yere uncle. I'm sure he tis in his office to escape the chatter of the ladies.” He opened the door and motioned Lorenz through.

  Lorenz walked into the narrow hallway, his feet moving with wooden steps. His lips were tight and his head held high. He had seen something deep in MacDonald's mind and he didn't like it. The office was tucked between the main room and storage room by a wall of boards. His uncle sat at an old desk, a book opened before him and some papers set to the side. Kasper looked up and smiled as they came in.

  “Ach, there you are. I've finished going over the papers you had. There are a few points I'd like to cover.” He opened another book.

  MacDonald eased into one of the straight back chairs and motioned Lorenz to the other. “Mayhap ye have some paper that Lorenz can practice his letters and numbers while we do so.”

  “Good, you've started him on his lessons then.”

  “Aye, and he tis quick.”

  Lorenz sunk down onto the seat. The two were talking about learning, and it sounded like MacDonald was taking lessons from his Uncle. That didn't make sense.

  Uncle Kasper scooted a small tablet and pencil in his direction and asked. “How soon before I can start him on his catechism lessons?”

  “That twill be a while. First he needs to master English and then German.”

  MacDonald removed his hat and looked at Lorenz who promptly yanked his hat off. There wasn't much left of it, but it seemed nobody wore one inside unless it was the saloon.

  The two men began discussing Latin, and Lorenz soon tired of listening to them. As far as he could see, his own letters and numbers looked fine. He started to doodle at horses, cows, and faces.

  From the front of the house came a long knock and excited voices from the women. “Welcome, Mr. Jackson. We have saved you a goodly portion. Come in and eat.”

  Kasper looked up. “It seems Olga's suitor has arrived. I should go and greet our guest.”

  “Aye, and then we need to buy the laddie some things. His hat tis nay fit to wear.”

  Kasper smiled at Lorenz and then saw his drawings. “Why this is good, very good. You have drawn before, ja?”

  Lorenz reddened. “Naw, just messed around with it some when ah was healin'. Rity was too busy to show me anythin' to write.”

  Kasper handed the tablet to MacDonald to examine. “See, he has even drawn horses. That is one of the most difficult animals to draw.” He took up a pencil, “The faces, however, need more shading. See, here on the nose, if you shade like this,” and he did a few quick strokes, “the nose will look more natural.”

  Lorenz looked down. Kasper hadn't done much, but Mina's face now seemed much more like Mina. “Huh,” he said and looked up. “Do y'all draw?”

  Uncle Kasper looked down with fondness in his grey eyes. “No, not really. I can draw, but the drawings have no life. Yours do. You must keep at it.” He looked at MacDonald. “We can even spare another tablet as a gift if y
ou will let him use it.”

  MacDonald's face was a puzzlement to Lorenz. It was as if there was some new side to Lorenz that he had not considered, but he nodded in agreement. “Aye, that I twill do. Now let us go say hello to Mr. Jackson. I still want some of that cake ere we leave.”

  In the kitchen, Olga was fussing over a black-suited man with a mustache twice as large as Kasper's. He stood up as they entered, and Lorenz saw that the man, about five-foot six was extremely broad shouldered and muscular. The right pant leg, however, from the knee down flopped around a wooden stump. The men began their ritual of shaking hands and addressing everyone by their surname. It was, decided Lorenz, one more peculiar thing these people did. Bear cub or not, there was no way he was ever going to belong.

  Chapter 9: Mina's Story

  Darkness was fast closing over the sky when they finished the evening chores and emerged from the springhouse, MacDonald carrying about a quart of milk. “The wee lassie likes her treat ere we go to bed after a special day.” He smiled at Lorenz. “Mayhap ye twill like it too.”

  Lorenz followed him to the kitchen where Mama was working. His belly was still full from the midday meal and the sweets they'd eaten before leaving. The hat and extra trousers that MacDonald had insisted on buying seemed treat enough to him, and he sure wasn't fond of milk.

  Mina pounced on her father as they walked into the kitchen. “Papa, can we have some choc-o-lat?” Her tongue may have twisted over the long word, but her eyes were shining in anticipation.

  “Aye, my wee one. I twill fix us all some.”

  Anna straightened from putting the last of the pans away. “Not for me. I vould prefer a beer tonight, but I vill the blankets and pillows put out first.”

  Lorenz watched with fascination as MacDonald brought out the utensils and cocoa. Mama must have known this ritual as someone had started the fire in the range. How was it, he wondered, that a man that could tear someone's arm out of joint and stand there working in a kitchen like a woman all in the same day? It made no sense.

  Once the chocolate was finished, MacDonald poured the contents into three mugs. “Ye twill have to carry yere own outside,” he said to Lorenz. “And, Mina, my wee one, ye must open the door for yere fither.”

  There was, Lorenz figured, no way out of this one. He hated to admit it, but the smell from the steaming cup was mighty tempting. Maybe he would drink it, although going outside to do so didn't make any sense either. No reason to puzzle it. Just go along and see what happens. MacDonald had said that tomorrow they'd work on the door for his room, and his mother would work on a mattress. After that he'd have his own sleeping place. Today had left him in turmoil. Should he stay and see how things went, or would it be smarter not to take a chance and just run?

  Mama was already on the blanket and she hadn't been joking. She was actually drinking a bottle of beer. Lorenz felt this was completely out of the norm for the women he'd seen and heard of during his brief sojourns around white people. MacDonald handed his cups to Mama while they seated themselves on the blanket. Lorenz sat cross-legged, but MacDonald swept Mina up into his lap, and the two shared his cup amid much blowing and laughter. The other cup sat safely on the ground while it cooled.

  “Papa tell me my story,” coaxed Mina.

  Lorenz heard the laughter rumble in MacDonald's voice. “Are ye sure ye want the same story again? Mayhap a new one?”

  Mina shook her head. “No, I vant Mina's story! Lorenz vill like it too.”

  “Mayhap ye are right. Lorenz has nay heard this story.” Since Lorenz was sitting slightly behind the big man, he could not see the smile of satisfaction on MacDonald's face.

  MacDonald shifted his weight and used one hand to point upward. “Once upon a time, long, long ago, there lived a princess and prince on a fine, fair planet that circles a far star. The princess twas beautiful with her snow white hair and a magnificent build. The Prince and Princess fell deeply in love and planned to wed. Suddenly, their planet twas attacked by beings from two different far stars.”

  “One race twas tall and all had red hair, strange brown eyes with golden circles around the dark middle, and nay like the other beings, they had two hearts. Because they lived for long, long year spans and could control the thoughts of others with their mind, they believed they were superior to all other beings. They called themselves the Justines for they felt they ruled by a great system of justice.” Sarcasm had crept into MacDonald's speech.

  Lorenz thought of his extremely tall, sister Rity, her copper eyes with the golden circles around the dark pupils, her flaming red hair, and a strange disquiet began to build within. There was no way he was going to believe MacDonald's tale, but he, like Mina, was caught up in the telling, and he sat silent, trying to feature what MacDonald described, but there was nothing in his life that could evoke the images for the words his ears were hearing.

  “The other beings attacking them twere shorter and squat, with brown eyes and brownish skin, and scales on their cheeks. They twere called Kreppies. They fawned over the tall, slender Justines as the master race and did their bidding. They spoke in a high, clipped way through their fangs and were quite mean-spirited.”

  “The Prince and Princess were mighty warriors in their land, and they fought the other beings on the land with weapons and in the sky with their flying ships, but there were too many enemies raging against them. One by one, the strongholds of the Prince and Princess were destroyed, and soon the Prince was in danger of being captured. Ere he let that happen, he took his vessel and destroyed the vessels of the Kreppies and fled the land of his birth. After traveling for many turns, he found a beautiful blue land and settled there. In his heart, he yearned for his Princess and he twas verry sad.” MacDonald rolled the r sound to emphasize the seriousness of the situation.

  “The battle over the lands where the Princess lived waged more fiercely. The Princess saw that they would soon be bested. She stole a large vessel from the Justines and flew her smaller craft inside. Then she drove the large vessel into the homeland of the Justines. The impact destroyed their lands, but there were still Justines in her land with their large flying vessels. The Justines found the vapor trail of the smaller vessel and searched and searched for her, but she vanished in the vastness of the heavens.”

  “One day, when the Prince twas riding over the new land, he looked up. There in the sky twas a craft, heading for the earth. He rushed to where it would land and saw the door open. Who do ye think he saw? Can ye name her?”

  “Princess Anna,” squealed Mina, clapping her hands. “It's Princess Anna!”

  “Aye, and they twere together again. They hugged each other, and they both lived happily ever after.”

  Mina gave a huge sigh and hugged her father. Anna set her bottle aside and asked, “Vould du like to hear about Hansel and Gretel, Mina?”

  Mina crawled over to her mother's lap and settled in. The story of the woodchopper's children and their encounter with the witch unfolded. Lorenz sat listening. What kind of stories were these for Mina? That the woodchopper welcomed the children back after Hans had pushed the witch into the oven to die and then taken all her fancy stones wasn't all that great either. He had just sat around cryin' after his woman had died, and had not even looked for the kids or tried to rescue them. Mina, however, seemed unmoved by the horror of it. As the tale ended with the same 'they lived happily ever after,' Mina said simply. “I have to go pee.”

  Anna stood. “It's time for bed, Mina. Come, ve'll go the outhouse.” Her smile to MacDonald showed clearly in the nightlight of stars and moon. She took Mina's hand and headed for the back.

  MacDonald stood. “Aye, it grows late. Lorenz, ye take the cups and rinse them at the pump. I twill shake out the blanket and gather the pillows.”

  Lorenz sat unmoving, gazing upward at the stars; his mind whirling, trying to sort out the logic in both tales and could find none. He had a gut feeling that MacDonald's tale had been for his benefit and told with his mother's approval. And
yet, that didn't make sense because Mina asked for her story. It was something that had been told before. MacDonald nudged him with his boot.

  “Lorenz, would ye take the cups and rinse them at the pump?”

  He came out of his fog and looked up. “That's wimen's work,” he protested.

  MacDonald shook his head. “Someday, laddie, ye twill learn that work tis work.” His voice changed, hardened into a command. “Ye rinse them whilst I shake out the blanket and take it and the pillows inside. After that tis done, tis our turn to take the nightly jaunt ere we retire.”

  It was, Lorenz decided, not worth the fight. He might wind up with himself being rinsed out. He snagged the cups and headed for the pump. He would run tonight or early in the morning, taking only the clothes he was wearing. He had gained some of the weight he'd lost, and the food he'd eaten the last few days would sustain him. It would be rough at first without a gun or a knife, but he knew he could get them again.

  After his mother kissed him and gave the sleep well blessing in German, Mina wrapped her arms around him and kissed him goodnight. MacDonald looked at him with approval, nodded his goodnight, and took the lamp to light the way for his wife and child.

  Lorenz clenched his teeth and pulled off his boots. He'd seen what flashed in MacDonald's mind, and he knew running was his only escape. Running, however, would need to be delayed until morning when the rustlings in the bedroom proved that neither adult was sleeping. He flopped on his stomach and clapped both hands over his ears.

  This time, he woke well before the first light of dawn, and moonlight flooded the room and the outside. He grabbed his boots and walked softly through the kitchen, pulled his new hat from the rung, and took care to make no sound as he closed the door.

  It took but a moment to pull his boots on and head for the corral and Dandy. Before saddling Dandy, he took what MacDonald called a corn knife, but he knew it as a machete from the Mexicans that had drifted through the Comanchero camp.