“I don’t think there’s a bathtub in this whole territory,” Hannah said. “We need too many other things worse.”
“I suppose,” Sabrina said. “Still it would be nice.” She changed the subject and saw that Sion was looking at her in a strange way with a smile on his face. “What are you smiling about, Sion?”
“Just feeling good after a fine meal of squirrel brains with two fine ladies.”
****
Sabrina returned from a morning visit with Hannah four days after the squirrel feast. She had grown very fond of the young woman. The two had become fast friends. They were nearly the same age, and although their backgrounds were different, they found a great deal to talk about. Hannah knew much about frontier living, and Sabrina felt grateful to her for the lessons she gave. As she approached the cabin, she saw Sion sitting outside whittling on a piece of cedar. He kept his knife sharp and liked to peel shavings almost as thin as air. A pile of the curls of wood was at his feet, but he got up and folded the knife and stuck it in his pocket as she approached.
“Did you have a good visit with the Spencers?”
“Oh, yes. What have you been doing?”
She waited for Sion to answer but saw that he was smiling. “What are you smiling about?” She suddenly remembered he had been gone a great deal during the past few days, and now she tilted her head to one side and studied him. “You are absolutely smirking, Sion.”
“I got your Christmas present.”
“Christmas! But it’s June!”
“I know, but I thought you could use it now.”
“You are a strange man. Christmas presents in June. Well, what is it? And remember, I don’t give presents until Christmas comes.”
“Come along. I’ll show you. It’s in the cabin.” Sion stepped back, and Sabrina walked inside. The light slanted through the one window, and she stopped dead still, for it fell upon an object that had not been there.
“Why, Sion, what is it, a trough?”
“I’m insulted!” Sion said. He moved over toward the object that was set against one side of the cabin. “Can’t you guess?”
Sabrina moved closer and saw what appeared to be a rectangular box. It was about two feet wide and at least six feet long. She reached down and saw that it was made of wood that had been smoothly planed until it was almost as smooth as glass. She saw a hole in the bottom of it that had a round peg of wood stuffed into it. Suddenly enlightenment came to her, and she exclaimed, “Why, it’s a bathtub!”
“That’s what it is, all right. Not made out of metal. I couldn’t get any of that, but it’s made out of cypress. I got the boards from John Miller. They make boats out of it in some parts of this country. The water just swells the joints up and makes it watertight. That hole there is a drain so you don’t have to haul the water out in buckets. Just pull that plug out, and the water will drain right out.”
Sabrina was stunned. She had known that Sion was a hard worker, but this caught her by surprise. She turned to him, her eyes sparkling, and a rush of gratitude filled her. “I could almost kiss you!”
Sion laughed and reached forward, and putting his arms around her, kissed her firmly on the lips. “I take that as an invitation,” he grinned and stepped back.
Sabrina felt a shock at the touch of his lips. The kiss had sent an unfamiliar sensation through her. She was flustered and embarrassed. “Well,” she laughed haltingly, “I guess I can’t fault you for that. Sion, it was so thoughtful. I’m going to try it right away.”
“I’ll help you fill it up.”
The two hauled water in from the shallow well that several of the men had helped Sion dig after they had built the cabin. It produced clear, cold water. Sabrina did not heat it, for the cool water would feel wonderful on this hot day. She shooed Sion out and ten minutes later was basking in the water. She thought about what kind of man would go to this much trouble for an employer, and then she thought about the kiss.
I ought to rebuke him for that, but I just can’t. He is a strange sort of man. . . .
Chapter Sixteen
A Serious Suitor
Hawk Spencer moved the razor down his lean cheek, wiped the lather off on a cloth in his left hand, and then carefully removed the excess lather from his face. He was standing at a cherry washstand with a small mirror fastened to the wall over it. He studied himself carefully, then finally, without taking his eyes off of his face, he said, “Wife, you are blessed.”
Elizabeth Spencer was getting dressed. The two had just risen, and now she paused long enough to look with surprise at her husband. “Well, I know I am, but in what particular way?”
Spencer turned and grinned at her, his eyes dancing. “In having such a handsome husband.”
Elizabeth could not help laughing, although she shook her head. “You are a fool, Hawk Spencer!”
“I suppose—” Hawk continued looking in the mirror, examining his features—“but what a handsome fool.” He suddenly turned and put his arms around her. “It’s a good thing you’re a handsome woman. Otherwise we wouldn’t be the best-looking couple in the territory.”
The two stood there, and Elizabeth Spencer felt content. She had had a good first marriage, but her second was even better, if that were possible. This man loved her, she knew, with all of his heart, and she felt the same about him. She rested against him and said, “We’re too old for this sort of thing.”
“I’ll be romancing you when we’re a hundred and don’t have any teeth.”
Elizabeth laughed. “All right. I know you’re trying to get something out of me.”
“A cherry pie would be nice. We haven’t had a cherry pie for a long time now.”
“No, not for three days!” Elizabeth slapped him on the chest and moved away. “I’ll go fix breakfast while you milk.”
“Why don’t you let me fix breakfast and you milk?”
“I’d hate to see the mess you’d make cooking,” Elizabeth sniffed.
The two went about their chores and shortly were seated at the table. Hawk was eating the battered eggs and fried ham with gusto. He lifted a biscuit and said, “I will say this. You are still the best biscuit maker in the world—or anywhere else, for that matter.”
The conversation gradually turned to Hawk’s plans for improving the place, and then it turned again to their daughter. “What do you think about Hannah?”
Hawk glanced at her with surprise. “About Hannah? Why, what do you mean? In what way?”
“I mean about her and Fox.”
Hawk scratched his chin thoughtfully and then shook his head. “I haven’t thought much about it.”
“Men!” Elizabeth snorted and shook her head with disgust. “Don’t you care who your own daughter marries?”
“She hasn’t said anything about getting married, has she?”
“No, she hasn’t said anything, but she thinks about it. What young girl wouldn’t?”
“That’s another difference between men and women. If women would just come out and say what they mean, it’d make life a lot simpler. Now, you take men—”
“I don’t want to hear about that!” Elizabeth picked up the cup of coffee before her and took a sip. “You think Fox would make a good husband for her?”
“Why, of course he would. He’s a fine young man.”
“There are lots of fine young men around, but she needs exactly the right one.”
“Well, how does a woman decide that? Now, you didn’t have any trouble.” Hawk’s eyes sparkled. “You took one look at me and knew that no other man would be as good as I am for you.”
Elizabeth could not keep from smiling. “Well, not every woman has my good fortune to find just exactly the right man. Sometimes they have to go through two or three.”
“You make finding a husband sound like trying on a hat. I don’t like this one. This one’s too big. This one costs too much. It ought to be simpler than that, wife.”
Elizabeth said in a serious tone, “This is important. You k
now how many bad marriages we’ve seen. I think they all turn out bad because people didn’t choose rightly.”
“We’ve been praying for Hannah and Josh since they were born, Elizabeth.”
“I know we have, but it troubles me sometimes. I’m not sure how Fox feels about her.” She looked up suddenly and asked, “Would it bother you having a half-Indian son-in-law?”
Her remark genuinely surprised Hawk Spencer. “Why, of course not! There’s not a finer man in the world than Sequatchie. He’s the best friend I’ve got in the world. And Fox is of his blood. If the two love each other, then I’d say amen.”
Elizabeth did not answer for a while. She sighed and said, “I don’t know about Hannah. She’s not very outgoing about things like this.”
“Why don’t you just ask her how she feels.”
“No, that’s the sort of thing that would have to start with her.” Elizabeth rose and said no more.
As Hawk Spencer went about his work that day, he thought long and hard about the daughter who was so dear to him. He had seen bad marriages many times, and the thought that Hannah might not have a good man or a good marriage troubled him. More than once as he worked, he prayed, “God, I’ll have to ask you to help my daughter. She needs to get just the man you have for her and no other.”
****
“My horse is gone!”
Fox was standing to one side and laughing silently. “Of course he’s gone. What’d you expect?”
Sion turned in surprise. The two of them had tied their horses deep in the woods while they were hunting for deer. “Well, I didn’t expect him to be gone. You think somebody’s stolen him?”
“No, you tied him up wrong.”
“I tied him firmly. He couldn’t have gotten loose.”
“There’s his bridle still tied to that tree.” Fox motioned toward a sturdy young tree. The bridle had dropped to the ground, and Fox leaned over and picked it up. “I could have told you this would happen.”
Sion blinked with surprise. “Well, why didn’t you?”
“You’ll remember longer this way. Look, see how my horse is tied?” He motioned toward his own horse, a clay-colored stallion. “You tie your horse up to a branch that will give. That way he can pull at it, but it’ll spring back. When you tie one to a solid tree, you see what can happen.”
Sion stared at the bridle in his hand, then laughed. “You’re a hard teacher, Fox.”
“I learned the same way. But the difference was I had to walk home, and I was fifteen miles away. The horse was there when I got there. He had more sense than I did. Come on. He won’t have gone far. Let’s see if you can track him.”
Sion and Fox had become good friends. Fox knew the woods like he knew his favorite knife, and he was imparting his wisdom and knowledge as fast as he thought Sion could absorb it.
As for Sion, he felt like a child. He knew so little about living in this strange country, but he was a willing learner and had a truly humble spirit. He laughed at his own mistakes as quickly as anyone, which made others more willing to teach him. Now as he followed the tracks of the strayed horse, he was pleased to see that he had at least learned how to track a little bit.
“I’m getting better.”
Fox smiled and shook his head. “A six-year-old could follow this trail. The ground is wet and soft, and you couldn’t miss it. Try tracking one on rock sometime.”
“Can you do that?”
“My uncle can. He’s the best tracker I ever saw.”
“Did Sequatchie teach you what you know about the woods?”
“Yes, he and Hawk, and I’ve learned from staying with the Indians. They’re the best trackers, of course, except for Hawk.”
The two found the horse not more than two hundred yards away cropping at the grass, and Sion walked right up to him and patted him on the neck. “I hope you enjoyed yourself, horse,” he said. “You won’t get away anymore.” They went back and packed up their equipment and were soon on their way.
As the two made their way back toward the settlements, Fox pointed out different trees and plants and signs of animals. To Sion it was almost a miracle. He shook his head. “You know the names of every tree in the woods and every flower too, I think.”
“You’ll pick it up. You’ll know most of it, too, after you’ve been here a year or two.”
“I feel more at home farming or in a coal mine.”
“Did you like coal mining?”
“I hated it more than anything I’ve ever done.” Sion went on to tell of the hardships and mentioned his friend Rees. “I sent money to support him and his family for several months, but I trust he’s well by now. Wales is so far away. I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again.”
“That’s the way life is,” Fox observed. “Every time I see a man I wonder if he will be a good friend or an enemy.”
Sion glanced at Fox with surprise. “I never think like that. Why should I think a man will be my enemy?”
“I think it’s different here in this country, especially with the conflict between the Indians and the white men.”
“It must be difficult for you being caught in the middle.”
Fox did not speak for a time. “Yes, it is. I thought for a while about going and living with the Cherokee, but that way of life is passing.” A spirit of gloom seemed to possess him. “The Indians will be forced out.”
“Can’t they learn to farm and take up the white man’s ways?”
“I think I can, but I’m half white. It’ll be hard for the old ones. Suppose you had to learn to live like the Indians. Think how hard that would be.”
Sion pondered the words of Fox and finally said, “I believe you’re right, but it’s a sad thing.”
“Yes, it is, and it’s going to get worse.”
———
The two rode together except when the trail narrowed to accommodate only one horse. Fox was curious about Sion and Sabrina. He knew the basics of their story but wondered how Sion felt about being a bond servant. Finally he asked him, “You’ve got five years to serve until you’re a free man?”
“That’s right.”
Fox hesitated and then said, “That’s almost like being a slave.”
“It’s better than being in a prison in England.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“I owe a lot to Miss Fairfax. If she hadn’t gotten me out of that prison, I don’t think I could have lasted my ten years there. That’s how long my original sentence was. No, this is all right, Fox. Five years isn’t forever.”
“It would bother me a great deal. It’s like you’re being put in a box. You have to do what she says for five whole years. What if you wanted to marry?”
“Bond servants get married, but what woman would want to be married to a man who isn’t free? I’ll just have to put that off for a time.”
“I don’t think Sabrina will.”
Sion turned in the saddle. “What do you mean by that?”
Surprised by Sion’s sharp tone, Fox said, “I mean she’s a beautiful woman, and she has property. And there are a lot of unmarried men in these parts. As a matter of fact, Hannah was telling me there’s been a regular parade of fellows coming by offering to marry her.”
“She’s right about that,” Sion said. “They’re driving her crazy.”
“It happens all the time out here. Women are so scarce. I think she’ll marry Drake Hammond.”
Indeed, Drake Hammond had become a frequent visitor to Sabrina’s house. He had taken her to a celebration in town, and Sabrina had appeared to enjoy his company.
Fox noted that Sion had little to say about this. “How do you feel about Sabrina?”
“She’s a good woman.”
“Have you ever thought of marrying her yourself?”
Sion stared at Fox with surprise. “I’m her servant, Fox. She would never marry a servant.”
Fox did not answer, and he noted that the conversation seemed to trouble Sion, so he changed the subjec
t. “We’ll stop on the way back and see if we can’t get us a deer or maybe a turkey. I’d fancy a bit of that for a change.”
****
Sion and Sabrina stood together looking out over the field of corn. A sense of pride came to both of them, especially to Sion. He had put in long hours working in this field, and now he felt a sense of possession, of ownership. He turned to Sabrina and said, “I don’t know as I’ve ever seen a healthier crop. Those rains we had, they’re so good for crops like this.”
“I never noticed crops growing before, Sion—not at home, that is. They were there, I suppose, but I was interested in other things. But this is beautiful.” She turned to him and smiled. “You worked very hard on it.”
“I can do better next year. You learn from doing. The land is good here. Fox told me that his people catch small fish and fertilize the ground with them, but it would take a lot of fish to do a field this big.”
“What will we do with all this corn? Sell it?”
“Keep some for seed corn. A lot of people make whiskey out of it.”
“Do you know how to do that?”
“No, not really.”
Sion had learned that corn could be traded for almost anything. He had also learned that by turning corn into whiskey, a farmer could have a product that was worth up to two dollars per gallon—whereas a bushel of good corn was valued at fifty cents.
The two walked around the field, lost in admiration, and from time to time Sabrina stopped to finger one of the strong stalks and note the tiny beginnings of ears. “We’ll have fresh corn. That’ll be good.”
“Aye, and we’ll have all kinds of fresh vegetables from the garden. The ground is richer here than in England. You just plant a seed and then jump back out of the way,” Sion said with a smile.
The two continued their walk until finally Sion lifted his head. “Someone’s coming at a run.” The two turned, and Sion narrowed his eyes. “That’s Josh. There must be something wrong. He wouldn’t punish a horse like that.” The two hurried forward to meet Josh, who slid off his horse in one easy motion.
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