She felt a gentle, reassuring hand at her shoulder, and River Joe nodded, sensing she wanted to change the subject. “One year, when I was small, the river came up as high as your stepfather’s cabin, washed away a lot of settlements and killed a lot of people. I have a feeling this could be another bad year. There are rain clouds in the west. A good hard rain could mean a lot of trouble.”
He led her to an old log, where they sat down.
“I’ve never seen a real big flood,” she said. “The river always comes up in the spring, but it’s never come close to the cabin. I don’t know what I would do. Water scares me.”
“You do not have to be afraid of water. Water is a friend, just like fire, and the animals—everything. The only thing you should fear is other people, and even then you should not fear them, just do not trust them.”
She turned and looked at him then, frowning. “Then why should I trust you? All I’ve heard about you is bad things, and here I am talking to you like I’ve always known you.”
He grinned. “That is what you call instinct. You feel the trust. You know by instinct that you can trust me, and the same instinct tells you that you cannot trust Tommy Decker. Animals have the best instincts. They know when they should run, and when they can walk up and eat out of your hand.”
She smiled. “Have you fed wild animals out of your hand, River Joe?”
“I have, mostly deer and squirrels.”
She sighed deeply and turned, straddling the log and keeping her dress pulled over her legs. “I never knew anybody like you before. You’re nothing like others say, at least not when I talk to you like this. How did you get your name?”
He watched the wild river. “The Cherokee named me when they found me floating down the river on a raft all alone when I was about five. I have vague memories of what happened, but at that time I could not remember anything, except that my first name was Joe. Since they found me floating the river, they started calling me River Joe. I have always loved the river—and the mountains.”
“And what do you remember? How did you get on that raft?”
He sighed deeply, reaching down and pulling at a weed. “After I got over my fear I began to remember. My parents were moving to another settlement. Outlaws attacked us, raped and killed my mother, murdered my father, and stole most of our belongings. They did not have any use for me, so they just set me on the raft and pushed it out, hoping I would drown, probably.”
“That’s terrible!” Her heart went out to him. “I’m so sorry. What an awful memory!”
He looked at her, smiling sadly. “You have some pretty bad ones of your own.” He looked down at the weed again. “At least I was raised by a loving people. Of course, because of my parents being found dead and me missing and showing up later among the Cherokee, everybody figured it was the Indians that did it, that they kept me to raise as their own. But it was not the Cherokee who killed my parents. It was white men. I have always hoped I could find them, but it has been so many years ago now that I doubt I ever will.”
“You talk good English, River Joe. You must have remembered a lot.”
“Not so much from that as because of missionaries. There are a lot of white missionaries among the Cherokee.”
She wanted to ask him about his wife but was afraid to bring it up. Maybe it hurt him too much to talk about it. She felt guilty that the thought of his having had a wife actually gave her jealous feelings. What was it like to be the wife of River Joe? Was it a duty only a Cherokee woman could perform? Had he been kind to his wife? Did she dare believe a man could be good to a woman?
“This is really strange, isn’t it? Me sitting here talking to you like this,” she said. “I never told Luke about seeing you at the river. He kept telling me to watch out for you, and I almost laughed.”
He smiled then, turning and straddling the log so he could face her. He rested his elbows on his knees. “You are quite a girl, Emma Simms. It feels good talking to you. You are smarter than other white girls I have seen at other settlements, and braver—and nicer.”
She couldn’t hide the sudden jealousy that moved through her blue eyes. “Do you know a lot of white girls?”
He laughed lightly. “Several, but only from a distance. I think they all think I am going to eat them alive.” He saw an odd disappointment in her eyes and he sobered. “But never have I met one as pretty as you, or been able to talk to one like I can talk to you. And never have I even cared to talk to one.”
Her cheeks felt hot. “You really think I’m pretty? Nobody ever told me I was.”
“You are not just pretty. You are beautiful.”
She watched his eyes, wondering if she might faint and fall off the log. When this man was around, all her worries always left her, her grief disappeared, and her heart felt lighter.
“Isn’t this the craziest thing?” she asked. “I never had something like this happen to me in all my life. I mean…you’re the one they call the white Indian. You’re supposed to be some kind of savage, mean, a killer. You’re the last person in the world I should trust. And here you are. I mean, I can talk to you so easy. I feel like I’ve known you forever, and this is only the second time I’ve ever spoken with you. Don’t you think that’s strange, River Joe?”
He shrugged. “Maybe not. Many things in life cannot be explained, Emma. Every spring I come down here to hunt, to trade, to earn money to buy supplies to take back to my people. Raiders have chased them high into the mountains, where it is more difficult to grow food and there is less game. I roam the settlements, looking for jobs, trading bargains, spend most of the summer down here, then take the supplies back for the winter, which even in Tennessee can be very cold when you are high in the mountains.”
His eyes moved over her then and she felt a wonderful warmth flow through her blood.
“For no logical reason I came lower last year,” he continued, “to a different part of the Hiwassee. And then I saw you, and when I returned to my people I thought about you for many months. So this spring I came back again. I came to this farm, hoping you would still be here. And there you were, kneeling at a grave, looking very lost. I knew then that Esaugetuk Emissee had led me to your farm deliberately last spring. The Maker of Breath knew you would need me, so He showed me this young woman with hair like cornsilk, knowing I would not be able to forget her.”
She felt hypnotized by the dark eyes, and she wondered at the strange fire within her.
“Yes, life is strange, Agiya, for since that day I pulled you from the raft I have not been able to stop thinking about you. I could have gone to any other settlement to meet up with the Jasmine. But I came here, so that I could look at you again; and so that I could find out if the beautiful white woman with the golden hair is still no one’s woman, as she told me that day at the river. And now that I have learned what happened with Tommy Decker, I see that she is still a free woman.”
Emma just stared back at him, feeling suddenly awkward, wishing she had on a nicer dress and that her hair was cleaner. How terrible she must look after a sleepless night, with a bruise on her face and her eyes probably still puffy from crying.
What was this man telling her? That he wanted her for himself? He hardly knew her! And after yesterday…Would this man be any different from Tommy? Was he kind, like Mr. Breckenridge? She felt so ignorant and lost. This man was strong and sure, knew his purpose in life, knew about so many things. He had roamed the mountains and rivers, lived among the Cherokee, had even had a wife! So he surely knew all there was to know about women. Did he look at her as a woman then and not a child?
“I…I don’t know much…about men and all.” She looked down then. “I mean…except for them being mean, like my stepfather was to my mama, and like Tommy is to me. You…you’ve got me all mixed up, River Joe. How can you…talk to me like that…when you hardly know me?”
“I know all I need to know. I already told you about instinct. And I believe strongly in the Maker of Breath leading us to our destinies.
”
She met his eyes again, feeling suddenly weak, feeling a rush of emotions, the odd ache deep in her belly, her heart pounding so that her chest hurt, her whole body tingling strangely. “What did that word mean…Agiya?”
“It simply means woman—but is only used for a special woman, a beloved woman. The Creeks call a beloved woman Amayi.”
“And what is the word for…for a beloved man?”
He smiled. “Asgaya.”
Their eyes held again and she repeated the word softly. He leaned closer then, and she sat rigidly as he lightly kissed her bruised cheek.
“Somehow I must see more of you, Agiya,” he said.
She wondered what kind of fool she was, to let him kiss her cheek and to wish that he would kiss her mouth. Just looking at Tommy or thinking about him made her feel ill. And here was this stranger, kissing her on the cheek!
“My stepfather would never let you see me,” she answered. “If they caught you with me now they would shoot you. They think you’re dangerous and uncivilized.”
He only grinned. “And what do you think?”
She studied the dark eyes. “I think maybe…maybe you could be trying to fool me.” Her eyes teared. “Don’t fool me, River Joe. I…I have nice feelings when we talk.” She looked down again. “Don’t try to trick me. How do I know you aren’t mean like Tommy?”
He reached out and took her hand. “If I were like Tommy, wouldn’t you already know it?”
She swallowed, wanting to cry, wanting to ask him to hold her tight again, feeling the awful helplessness. “I guess I would, wouldn’t I?”
He nodded. “You have suffered much. I saw your stepfather shoving you around that day after I left you at the river. He is cruel to you. And now Tommy has been cruel to you. You are afraid of men. Cruelty is all you have ever known. But it is not that way with all men, Emma.”
He squeezed her hand and the almost painful yet wonderful ache came deep inside her again. She swallowed, wishing she were more experienced, wondering what Mrs. Breckenridge would tell her now.
“It’s hard for me to believe a man can be good.” She looked over at the rising river. His hand was so big around her own, yet so gentle. “My mother lies in her grave because of a cruel man.” She looked back at him. “I was going to run away…sneak aboard the Jasmine when it came, and after we got far away I was going to have Hank Toole take me to Knoxville, to look for a woman teacher who used to come here. Her name was Mrs. Breckenridge, and she was real pretty and real nice. She taught me a lot of things…reading and writing and such…and about life…” She reddened again, looking down and picking at some torn lace on her dress. “…And love. Her man was good to her. Anyway, I just figured if I could get away on the Jasmine, Hank would help me settle and maybe get a job, and I’d be away from here—away from Tommy.”
He looked at her for a long time. “Do not go with Hank Toole,” he said then. “I have traded with him, but I would not trust him, Emma. Do not leave with him.”
She met his eyes again. “But what else can I do? Luke hates me. He’s going to sell the farm and hand me over to Tommy Decker, and now I’m scared he won’t even care if Tommy marries me or not.” She began to tremble. “Tommy will do bad things to me. He’ll take me to his friends. I know him. I know what he’ll do.” Her voice began to shake with panic. “He’ll want to hurt me bad now, after what I did to him.”
He grasped her other hand. “Tommy will not hurt you. I promise.”
“How can you promise? You can’t be around all the time, River Joe, like yesterday. He’ll come back!”
He squeezed her hands tighter. “What did I tell you about not being afraid? Wasn’t the Maker of Breath with you yesterday. Did He not help you?”
She blinked back tears, wanting to show him how brave she was. “I don’t know much about God—yours or mine.”
“They are the same. There is one God, and He brought me here…to help you.”
Their eyes held, and thunder boomed in the distance. A storm was coming. Emma felt a chill, as though the thunder were some kind of warning. She wondered if hitting her head the day before had made her lose her mind, for the dark, handsome man called River Joe was leaning closer, and in the next moment his mouth was on hers, moving in a slow, gentle kiss, her first real kiss. Yes, she must be crazy, for she was letting him do this! He gently forced her lips apart, tasting the inside of them with his tongue, while thunder pounded and echoed through the surrounding mountains.
She gripped his hands tightly as he left her mouth then, kissing her once more lightly before drawing back. She sat there, her hands almost hurting from squeezing his, her eyes closed, waiting in near terror to find out if he meant to do something worse. After a moment she opened her eyes to see him just sitting there watching her, a teasing grin on his mouth. She knew her face was turning crimson then, and she jerked her hands away.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not? It was nice.”
Her eyes teared in confusion and in fear that he was only toying with her. If she took his advice and didn’t leave on the Jasmine, what would happen to her then?
“Why did you kiss me?”
He sobered, seeing her questions and fears. “Because I wanted to. And because I wanted to show you it can be nice.” His eyes moved over her again, resting for a moment on her full breasts, breasts that made her feel self-conscious because they had grown so large. Was he like Tommy, always teasing her about her breasts, calling them other names, talking about all the different “sizes” he had seen and tasted. She felt a burst of wicked desire at the thought of River Joe tasting her breasts the way Tommy had tried to do the day before. Surely if he did that the way he had kissed her…
She jumped up from the log. “You’ve got me all confused now, River Joe.” She walked a few feet away, folding her arms and rubbing her elbows nervously. “I don’t know what to do. Maybe you’re just joking with me, and even if you aren’t, I hardly know you. I…I had enough problems deciding before…and now you come along and tell me not to go with Hank. But why shouldn’t I?” She whirled and faced him. “What are you going to do to help me?”
He slowly rose, walking up to her. “I do not know yet. But I will think of something. If you will trust me, I will take you wherever it is you want to go. But I would have to talk to your stepfather first, or I would be accused of stealing you away.”
She reddened more. “I can’t go running off with a man I hardly know! And I…I have no way to pay you. I don’t even know if I can trust you!” She looked away, touching her lips. “I shouldn’t have let you kiss me. You’ll think…” She wished she could crawl into a hole. “You think that because I let you kiss me—”
“Emma, I want to help you,” he said gently. “I do not expect anything back from you. I do it because the Maker of Breath led me to you to help you. Just let me come back when your stepfather is here. I will be here when the Jasmine comes. I have to get my trading done first. My family depends on me to bring them these things, so before I do anything, I must wait for the Jasmine and unload my deerskins. Just promise me you won’t get on that steamboat. I will find a way to help you.”
She wanted to run and hide. She had surely made a fool of herself, letting him kiss her so easily! He was probably laughing to himself at her right now. This whole thing was probably a joke to him.
“I don’t know,” she answered, almost in tears. “I…maybe…” She met his eyes. “Don’t be fooling me. I’m all mixed up.”
He nodded. “I know. I would not fool you, Emma. I do not lie and I do not break promises.”
She sniffed. “Then if…if somehow I could…go with you…promise me you’ll take me to Mrs. Breckenridge, if that’s where I decide I want to go.”
He nodded. “I promise.”
The black clouds rolled in over a western ridge of mountains. Emma found it amazing how rapidly everything had changed for her, all starting with her mother’s death. She felt the storm clouds
coming into her life and heart as well as to the sky. She watched River Joe’s dark eyes for a long time.
“You…you better go,” she said. “Luke could come back anytime. It would be bad for him to find you here with me alone.”
He nodded. “I will be around—close. I will not go away this time.”
She told herself it was ridiculous to trust him, yet his words calmed her. “Watch out for Tommy Decker,” she warned. “He sneaks around a lot.”
The wild anger moved through his eyes again. “Men like Tommy Decker do not worry me. I hope he does come around.”
Lightning blistered the western skies and Emma looked out at the approaching storm. “We’re going to get that rain, like you said.”
He nodded.
“The river will get higher, won’t it?”
“Probably. Do not worry about the river, Emma. You just watch yourself, and trust me.”
She wiped at tears and managed a smile. “I don’t have a lot of choices, do I?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand, River Joe.”
He suddenly turned his head. “Someone comes,” he whispered. He hurried up to the cabin and behind it to untie his horse. Emma quickly followed, wondering how on earth he knew anyone was coming. She saw and heard nothing but the approaching storm. He quickly mounted his horse, then looked down at her. “Remember what I said. Do not get on that boat.”
“I’ll remember.”
He rode off into the trees, quickly disappearing. She wondered what he did when it stormed, how he stayed dry. And then as she stood watching after him, she wondered if he had really been there at all.
Her mind raced with confusion. She still felt warm and wonderful. He had said she was pretty, brave, nice to talk to, smarter than other white girls. He had held her hands, and…and he had put his mouth over hers and kissed her. The wild man River Joe had kissed her, and she had let him!
The Bride Series (Omnibus Edition) Page 5