Chapter Nine
Christmas Surprise
Rising before dawn, Elizabeth prepared a quick breakfast of eggs, ham left over from supper the night before, and bread served with apple butter. As soon as it was ready, she sent Hawk, Sequatchie, Jacob, and Andrew out to find a Christmas tree, while she kept Sarah beside her to help with the cooking.
After the men had left, Elizabeth began cooking all the food for the enormous dinner she had planned. Her mind raced ahead, counting the guests and arranging, in her own imagination, how everything would take place.
An hour later she heard the sound of voices and stepped to the door. It was cold outside, although December had been warmer than usual. She saw Hawk carrying a perfect Christmas tree.
“We got some mistletoe and red berries,” he called out as he approached the door.
“Bring it inside.”
“Going to be crowded enough with all this company,” Hawk warned.
“I can’t help it. We’ve got to have a tree. Sarah, make a place for it over in the corner.”
Jacob was surprised to discover that he could take part in the festivities. He joined in with Sarah and Andrew, who were stringing popcorn with needles for decorations, and soon after, the guests began to arrive. The Andersons and the Stevenses came first, and Deborah had done a great deal of cooking. Opening up a basket, she began taking out pie tins of chicken pudding, a large plate of almond tarts, and Sally Lunn bread. Joined by Abigail, the women all helped pull the meal together.
Paul Anderson and George Stevens stepped outside to join the other men while the women worked on the meal and talked about the news in the settlement.
Elizabeth took a quick break from the cooking to inspect the tree and laughed at the decorating job. “You men can do better than that.”
“Why, it looks all right to me,” Hawk said with surprise.
“It takes a woman to decorate. Sarah, you and Abigail do it right. You can get Jacob and Andrew to help you.”
Jacob kept back, but he could not help noticing how attractive Abigail Stevens was. He admired the thick brown hair that fell down in waves and the cool gray-green eyes. Most of all he noticed the smooth complexion and trim young figure. She’s going to be a beauty when she grows up, Jacob thought. He was, at sixteen, a year and a half older than Abigail, but there was a precocious quality about Abigail Stevens that caught his attention.
As Abigail decorated the tree, she was well aware that Jacob Spencer was gazing at her. He was very tall, she saw, with the same wavy black hair and dark blue eyes of his father. She held his gaze for a moment, then smiled at him, and at once he came to stand beside her.
“I’m not much on decorating,” he said. “How do you do it?”
“Why, it’s easy. I’ll show you.”
The two seemed to be preoccupied with each other, and then Sarah called out, “Andrew, you and Jacob hang the mistletoe.”
Jacob, being the tallest, reached up and fastened a sprig of mistletoe to the ceiling of the cabin. As he did so, Abigail walked by, seemingly by accident.
“Jacob, look at Abigail,” Sarah said. “She’s right under the mistletoe. You know that means you must kiss her.”
Jacob grinned abruptly, reached out, and kissed Abigail on the cheek very near her lips. “I suppose if it’s the custom, I must do it,” he said. He kissed her again on the other cheek and Abigail flushed, but her bright eyes were laughing.
Andrew said abruptly, “There’s no time for this foolishness!”
Sarah looked at her brother with a demure smile and, knowing him well, poked him in the ribs. “You’ll have to be quicker than that if you’re going to hang on to Abigail,” she said.
Jacob overheard her and turned away so they would not see the smile that had come to his face.
****
The rather small cabin was soon crowded, for William and Lydia Bean and James and Charlotte Robertson had arrived. The Beans brought their children, including Russell, who had the distinction of being the first white child born in the area in 1769. The Robertsons had a baby born that same year, but a little later. They had brought the child when they had come west.
The meal was a great success. Something about being packed in so closely added to the fellowship, and the room resounded with laughter. Finally, as Elizabeth directed the women in bringing out the gooseberry and blackberry pies, the talk turned to the Donelson Survey.
“I don’t know exactly what we’re going to do,” William Bean said fretfully. “We may have to leave our lands.”
“I don’t agree with that,” Hawk said quickly. “A line on a piece of paper isn’t going to drive me off this place.”
James Robertson leaned back, chewed thoughtfully on the pie, and shook his head. “I’m with you, Hawk. I don’t like the sound of it, but we’ll have to wait until spring.”
After the meal was over, the Beans and the Robertsons left to visit brothers and sisters who had settled in the area. The Andersons and the Stevenses stayed a little longer to help clean up. While the adults were busy, Andrew took the opportunity to pull Abigail aside. “Let’s go outside a minute, Abigail. I . . . have a present for you.”
“Oh, Andy, I don’t have anything for you!”
“That’s all right. Here, I hope you like it.”
Abigail’s eyes were warm as she opened the brown wrapping. When she took out the object that was inside, she squealed with pleasure. “Oh, it’s a muff!”
“Yes. Mother made them from the pelts I caught and cleaned. That ought to keep your hands warm.”
Abigail reached out and touched him on the chest gently. “That was very thoughtful of you.”
As the two stood together just outside the front door of the cabin, Jacob suddenly appeared. “There you are!” he said. “I wondered where you two had gone. I understand we’re going to sing carols around the tree. Come on in!”
Jacob took Abigail’s arm and pulled her back inside. She glanced back at Andrew with an apologetic smile and a shrug as she disappeared through the doorway. Andrew followed the two but felt somehow that he had been cheated. “Jacob could have waited,” he said. “He didn’t have to come butting in like that!” While the singing went on, Andrew himself mumbled the words but could not help but notice the admiring looks Abigail gave to Jacob, who had, indeed, a fine singing voice. A thought came to Andrew, but he pushed it down and shook his head slightly, then tried valiantly to join in with the celebration.
****
“‘And it came to pass in those days that Caesar Augustus sent forth an edict that all the world should be taxed. . . .’”
Elizabeth sat quietly as Hawk read through the Christmas story. Her glance went around at the children, and she noted that Jacob somehow managed to separate himself so that he sat with his back against the cabin wall.
When Hawk finished the story he looked up and said, “Elizabeth, you made it a wonderful year for me.” Turning to the children, he said, “And you three. You give a man a reason for living. Now,” he said, “it’s time for Christmas gifts.” He moved out of the room and came back with a cotton sack and pulled out several packages, handing them out. “I guess I’m Santa Claus,” he grinned.
Sarah opened the package and gasped when she saw the beautiful new dress her mother had made. It was made out of a royal blue silk with a square neckline edged in white lace, and elbow-length sleeves that ended with a large band of royal blue brocade and a large white lace ruffle. The bodice had an edging of brocade following all the way down the front and onto the plain overskirt, and the stomacher had been delicately embroidered with white thread in the pattern of snowflakes. The petticoat was made of the same material and had no decoration, but a pretty pinner cap of white linen and lace and a beautiful blue silken cord with a drop pearl completed the outfit.
Andrew found a coonskin cap inside his package and instantly clapped it on his forehead.
Sarah was intrigued with the music box that Hawk had brought back from Williamsbu
rg and put her ear down close, her lips moving in time with the music.
But it was Jacob who was surprised. There had been nothing in the sack for him, and he had felt left out. Then suddenly Hawk had stepped back into the room and come out with a rifle in his hand. “This is for you, Jacob.”
Jacob was speechless, for he saw at once that it was a new Kentucky long rifle. He had heard of the weapon before but had only seen one on rare occasions. He let his fingers slide over the gun, then looked at his father, unable to speak.
“Do you like it, Jacob?” Hawk asked quietly.
“Oh yes! It’s wonderful, but you shouldn’t have done it!”
“Why, of course I should have done it.” He clapped the boy on the shoulder and said, “You might need a lesson or two. Be glad to teach you what I know.”
Jacob had been open and felt pleased with the gift, but the deep resentment he had kept bottled up over the years came out, and he heard himself saying, “That’s okay. I think I can handle it.” He saw that his father’s face broke, and there was a hurt look in his eyes. He glanced over and saw Sequatchie staring at him with a frown, so he said, “Well, maybe we could all go out together.”
Sequatchie had sat back, not taking part in the gift exchange, and now he rose and left the room. Jacob said, “I’ll get some more wood.” He hastened out of the cabin and caught up with Sequatchie. “I guess I didn’t handle that very well, did I?”
“No. Not too well. Your father deserves better.”
“I’ll . . . I’ll try to do better. I’ll talk to him.”
Jacob picked up a few sticks of firewood and went back inside. Several times that evening he tried to get Hawk alone, but the house was small, so finally he went to bed without saying a word. He looked over at his stepbrother and thought for an instant of telling him that he enjoyed the Christmas, but instead, “It was a good celebration.”
“Yes, it was. Good night.”
Surprised by Andrew’s rebuff, Jacob stared at him, then he recognized that Andrew had barely spoken to him since he had kissed Abigail under the mistletoe. He lay back and shook his head, thinking, I’m not doing too well. I’ll have to do better than this.
Hawk and Elizabeth were preparing for bed, and when Elizabeth had put on her nightgown, she turned to him and said, “I’ve got a present for you.”
“Do I have to wait for it until Christmas morning?”
Elizabeth had a strange expression on her face. She put her hands on his broad chest and for a moment said nothing. Her eyes were glowing. “You’ll have to wait a little longer than that. As a matter of fact,” she whispered, “you’ll have to wait seven months.”
Hawk blinked with surprise, then suddenly her meaning came to him. A light of pure pleasure leaped to his eyes, and he put his arms around her, looking down. “Are you sure?”
“As sure as a woman could be at this point.” Elizabeth reached up and put her hands on his lips but merely shook her head. “God has blessed us.” She savored the feel of his strong arms around her and ran her hand around the planes of his jaw. There was a joy in her that she had never known before, and now to cover up the tears that threatened to come, she said, “Well, God’s blessed us even if you are an old man.”
Hawk laughed and held her tightly. “You’re right about that. I got me a child bride.”
“Hawk, are you happy about it?”
“Yes. Nothing could have made me happier. It’s a miracle from God.” He held her close, put his lips on hers tenderly, and then she buried her face against his chest. The two stood there completely and totally happy for that moment, and Elizabeth wished that nothing would ever change.
****
The morning dawned and the cabin was filled with the sound of laughter. There was no time for breakfast, for there were other presents to be exchanged, including sweets made by Elizabeth and Sarah, and handmade things that Hawk, Andrew, and Sequatchie had created themselves.
After the presents were opened, Hawk suddenly said, “Elizabeth has one more present to give us all.”
Everyone turned to Elizabeth and she suddenly flushed. “It’s . . . it’s really a present for all of us from God.”
Sarah immediately squealed. “Am I going to have a baby sister?”
As soon as his mother nodded, Andrew shook his head. “No, it’s going to be a boy, isn’t it, Pa? Isn’t that what you want?”
“A son would be nice, but a daughter would be all right, too.” He grinned at Sarah and then went over to put his arm around her, saying, “I like girls mighty well, Sarah. They’re nice and they smell better than boys. Maybe it will be a girl.”
Everyone was excited, but only Sequatchie noticed that Jacob was saying little. He watched the young man and suddenly knew what he was thinking as clearly as if he had spoken it. Hawk is going to have a son, and he’ll be left out again. He’s already envious of Andy’s relationship with his father, and now once more he’ll feel on the outside.
Jacob Spencer would have resented Sequatchie’s saying such a thing. He sat back, watching the happiness in the faces of everyone, and tried to make himself smile, but, indeed, he did feel left out—an outsider in his own family.
Part Two
Watauga
April 1772-April 1774
For the Lord thy God bringeth thee into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths that spring out of valleys and hills.
Deuteronomy 8:7
Chapter Ten
Meeting at Chota
Sequatchie had risen before dawn, as was his custom, and made his way down to the creek that meandered across the valley. For some time he stood quietly, motionlessly watching the sun shake off the night and cast its rays over the eastern hills. Most men would not have noticed the details of the landscape that absorbed the pale crimson rays of the great sun, but the Cherokee was alert, and his obsidian eyes missed nothing. His quick eye caught the flash of a white tail as a deer a hundred yards away stepped out of the brush and dropped her head to drink. Sequatchie took pleasure in the beauty of the animal, watching the doe as she stepped across the creek, lifting her head from time to time, alertly searching the landscape for possible danger.
The water at his feet bubbled over rounded stones, some of them covered with green moss. Once a large fish broke the water, his huge mouth open, as he enveloped a smaller fish, then fell back with a noisy splash.
“The big fish eats the little fish,” Sequatchie murmured. “That is the way of the forest.” His eyes narrowed, and for a moment he was moved by a black depression that sometimes came upon him. “And that is the way it is with men, also,” he spoke his thought aloud. He knew the history of his people better than most and had the vision to see that there was no stopping the white man. He knew that the ancient ways of the Cherokee were doomed, and he had spent many hours trying to find some way to make the passing of the nation less painful to the tribes. Nevertheless, as he stood soaking in the early beams of the morning sun that now began to throw a long light across the top of the eastern hills, he could find no answers. A man must do what God has put in his way. The way of the Cherokee is passing, and now we will see what the white man will do to this world.
When the sun had cleared the ragged tops of the hills, he turned and slowly made his way to the Spencers’ cabin. Hearing the sound of voices inside, he called out. At once the door was opened and he was greeted warmly by Elizabeth.
“Come in, Sequatchie. You’re just in time for breakfast.”
Hawk was already seated at the table. His face was glowing from a fresh shave, and he looked happy and contented. “You have a positive gift for arriving whenever there’s food to be had, my brother,” he grinned.
A light of humor touched Sequatchie’s eyes as he sat down across from Hawk. “It would be bad manners not to accept an invitation.”
“Well, you have good manners, then. But I think we’d better eat hearty. It’s going to be a hard trip.”
Elizabeth moved quietly around
the cabin as the two men talked. She stirred the mush until it was bubbling hot, poured three bowls full, then set them on the table, along with a bowl of fresh butter. Setting down a platter full of fried venison steaks and warmed biscuits, she remarked, “You’d better eat while it’s hot.”
Hawk bowed his head and asked a brief blessing. This simple act had been hard for him at first, but he had quickly learned to pray aloud without feeling awkward. Now as he picked up a biscuit and split it with his knife and layered it with the yellow butter, he asked Sequatchie, “How do you think the meeting will go?”
“We will know when we get there.”
After breakfast the two were to be joined by James Robertson and John Bean, William’s brother, to leave on a trip to meet with the Cherokee chiefs. The land problem had grown more serious for the Wataugans, and the leaders had felt it wise to make a special quest to speak with the chieftains. Sequatchie had been included to act as an intermediary.
“Have you thought what you will say, Hawk?” Elizabeth asked as she tasted the mush and added a little salt.
“I am leaving that mostly to John and James. From what Bean says, it would be best to ask the Cherokee to sell or to lease the land around the Watauga River.” Chewing thoughtfully on a biscuit, Hawk was silent for a moment, then he lifted his eyes to Sequatchie. “What do you say, friend? What will the Indians do?”
Sequatchie lifted a cup of cider, drank some of it, then shook his head doubtfully. “In every tribe there’ll be hotheaded young warriors—and I’m afraid that’s what we’ll encounter. Even the chief’s son, Dragging Canoe, and other braves like him will want to keep the old ways. They will attempt to sway the nation to fight—to kill the white man if necessary.”
“Are there many of them?”
“I’m afraid there are enough to cause trouble, but a lot of the older chiefs I have already spoken with have more wisdom.” Sadness clouded the dark eyes of the Cherokee, and he added quietly, “I have convinced them that it would be best to adopt the white man’s way of life. Most of them see that we must do this, for more and more white men are going to come. In a way,” Sequatchie said suddenly, “as tragic as it is in the eyes of some of my people, some good may come out of this.”
Beyond the Quiet Hills Page 11