Beyond the Quiet Hills

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Beyond the Quiet Hills Page 35

by Aaron McCarver


  As soon as Elizabeth and Hawk arrived at the settlement, they looked up to see William and Lydia Bean.

  Elizabeth, at once, went to Lydia and put her arm around her. “I’m glad to see you. Are you all right?”

  “Oh yes,” Lydia smiled. She had indeed survived being taken prisoner by Old Abram, but she had spread the word throughout the settlement that it was Nancy Ward who had saved her.

  “Did you hear about Nathaniel Gist? He’s going to join Washington’s Continental Army. He’s given his land to Joseph Martin, the new Indian agent from Virginia. He’s the husband of Betsy Ward, Nancy’s daughter.”

  “Yes,” Hawk nodded, “and James Robertson has been made the Indian agent for North Carolina. That’s a good choice. He’s a good man.”

  Hawk then smiled as he said to William, “Are you ready to give your speech?”

  Bean smiled ruefully as he replied, “I’m not too sure about this. I knew when they asked me to speak that I should have said no. You should be up there instead of me. How about it?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I’ll leave the speechmaking to people like you, Robertson, and Sevier. My wife is better at making speeches, anyway—at least to me she is.”

  Elizabeth poked Hawk in the side. “You’re pretty good at it yourself, you know.”

  Bean chuckled, then sobered as he said, “I’m sure glad to see the Cherokee here. We all need to get along now and learn to share this land. There’s plenty for everyone.”

  Hawk seemed to look far in the distance as he replied, “I hope you’re right, William, but some people think the frontier should belong only to the settlers. I’m afraid there may be more trouble ahead, especially with the revolution going on. It’s only a matter of time till the British come over the mountains, too.”

  Elizabeth felt the conversation needed to be changed to a lighter note. She turned to her husband. “Come on, Hawk,” Elizabeth whispered. “We’ve got to get inside. We’ll miss the wedding.”

  “Well, the groom’s mother ought to have a place right in the front,” Hawk laughed. “Come along. We’ll see them off in style!”

  ****

  The wedding was held outdoors in the central square of the fort. The guests simply gathered around, while Paul Anderson stood in front of Abigail and Andrew. Jacob and Sarah stood up with them as Anderson said the old words, and they promised to love each other “till death do us part.” Finally Paul Anderson said, “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

  Andrew turned and gave Abigail a resounding kiss, at which there was great laughter and a few teasing remarks by his young friends. Abigail flushed, then laughed, and the two stood beaming as the neighbors and relatives came up to greet them. A trio of musicians—on fiddle, banjo, and dulcimer—struck up a lively tune, and the crowd gathered around the refreshment table.

  As Hawk and Elizabeth stood eating some wedding cake and drinking apple cider, they watched Sarah carefully.

  Hawk said abruptly, “What would you say if we sent Sarah back to stay with my folks in Williamsburg?”

  Elizabeth turned, her eyes wide. “How did you know that was what I was thinking?”

  “I didn’t,” Hawk admitted, “but she’s not getting over seeing young Baxter die. She’s not eating, and she mopes a lot. That’s not like Sarah. She’s always been so lively.”

  Elizabeth sighed. The Baxters had moved away from the area after burying their son, but she knew that Hawk was right. Finally she said, “I think it might be best if she did get away from here for a while. How would she get there? Would you take her?”

  “I’ll ask Jacob. He’s been wanting to go back and see his grandparents. If that doesn’t work, she can go to Boston to your family.”

  “I hate to see her go, but she needs to get away, and we’ve been praying about it. Why don’t you ask Jacob?”

  “I’ll do it right now.”

  Hawk approached Jacob and drew him off to one side. “Son, I want to ask a favor.”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Sarah’s not doing well. I guess you’ve noticed.”

  “Yes, I have. It worries me. What are you thinking about?”

  “I think it might be well if you take her to Williamsburg. Go with her. You’ve been wanting to go back. Introduce her to some young people. Take her to some parties. Get her mind off Philip if you can.”

  “Why, I’d be proud, Pa.”

  “Good, I’ll send word to my parents that you’re coming.” Then an apprehensive look crossed his face, and he reached out and took Jacob’s arm, squeezing it hard. “This doesn’t mean I want you to stay there, you understand?”

  Jacob grinned and suddenly slapped his father on the chest. “It’ll be nice to see my grandparents after all these years, but I’ve got a father to come home to now, and a family.”

  Hawk smiled and the two suddenly put out their hands and held on as they smiled into each other’s eyes.

  Jacob moved away from his father, coming to stand beside Amanda. She looked at him with surprise and then smiled at him. “The wedding was beautiful, wasn’t it?”

  “Sure was.” He looked over and saw Iris standing beside Sequatchie and noted that she was smiling up at the tall Cherokee.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if something didn’t come of that one of these days, he thought, but he said nothing to Amanda.

  After the wedding, everyone gathered to watch the Cherokee perform. Jacob and Amanda were amazed by the intricate movements of the Indians. After the performance, Jacob turned to Amanda and said, “Let’s take a walk. I want to talk to you.”

  “All right.”

  They walked along under the fading sun that was already growing crimson. Jacob stopped her as soon as they were out of sight of the cabin and turned to her. “I’m taking Sarah to Williamsburg.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Pa and Ma just decided it’d be good for her to get away.”

  “I think it will. She misses Philip so much. When will you go?”

  “Right away. Probably next week.”

  “I’ll miss you, Jacob.”

  Jacob took her hand and held it, then said, “I’ll miss you, too.”

  She did not answer. There was a quietness in her, and her eyes were expressive as she looked up at him. He could not read her thoughts, and he said, “How much will you miss me?”

  She smiled more broadly. “Enough,” she said.

  “Enough to wait for me to come back? You won’t go running off with one of these young fellows?”

  “No, I won’t do that.”

  There was a sweetness and a gentleness in her at that moment. It had always been there, perhaps, but Jacob knew that he had missed it somewhere along the way. She had grown up to be a very pretty young woman, with beautiful doelike brown eyes. He reached out and pulled her forward, waiting for her to resist, but she did not. She came against him, and her face was in repose with an expression that stirred his curiosity. He found himself trying to find a name for it. It was something like the gravity that comes when someone has seen a great deal, and there was a shadow of hidden sadness and yet there was a joy. She always had a curtain of reserve, but now he sensed the great vitality and imagination kept under stern restraint. He knew suddenly that there was a fire in this young woman that made her lovely, and he bent and touched the coolness of her lips. She had the power to stir him and she did so now, deepening his love for her and arousing a sense of loneliness. One powerful flash of emotion touched them both then. Her lips were soft, and she yielded herself to him wholly, completely, and he knew that something had happened to them both.

  As he lifted his head, Amanda whispered, “I’ll wait for you, Jacob.”

  “I’ll come back,” he whispered. “I couldn’t do without you, Amanda!”

  Sounds of gunfire caused the couple to turn back toward the crowd. They watched as the new nation’s flag was raised over the fort while the guns continued their salute.

  As Jac
ob kissed Amanda again, the promising future of America seemed to symbolize the promising future of its brave pioneers.

  Epilogue

  Thomas Denton stepped into the library to stare at his sister, Annabelle. She fit into the rich surroundings of the room in a mauve-colored silk dress with a large gray bow hanging down the back. Her beautiful figure was enhanced by the close-fitting bodice and waistline, and the three-quarter-length sleeves that ended just below the elbow with a white frill. She turned toward him and smiled in a rather disturbing fashion.

  “You’ll never guess who I just heard from, Annabelle.”

  “No, I can’t guess,” Annabelle said. “Who is it?”

  “Jacob Spencer.”

  “You heard from Jacob?” she said abruptly. She held her head higher, and an interest came into her eyes.

  “Yes, I saw James Spencer, his grandfather, you know. He’d gotten a letter from Jake’s father. You remember Hawk Spencer, the long hunter?”

  “I remember. What about him?”

  “Jake’s coming home for a visit and bringing his stepsister with him.”

  “His stepsister? I wonder why?”

  “Mr. Spencer just said that the girl has had a hard time. He thinks the trip will help her.” He studied Annabelle carefully. “You never really quite got over Jake, did you?”

  “Don’t be foolish, Tom.”

  “I know you pretty well. You shed your suitors like a tree sheds leaves in the fall.”

  “That’s a very poor metaphor.”

  “It isn’t a metaphor. It’s a simile,” Denton laughed, “and I’m right, too. I’ll tell you what. We’ll have a party for Jacob when he gets here, and for his sister, too. Maybe she’ll be a pretty, virtuous young lady that I can pay attention to.”

  Annabelle was only half listening. She waited until Tom had finished teasing her, and after he left the library, she turned and went to stare out the window. It was hot outside, and hardly a breeze was stirring. The grass was green, however, and she watched distractedly as a white cat with emerald green eyes strolled by outside and disappeared around the corner of the house.

  “Jacob Spencer,” she whispered to herself, and her mind went back to the days when she had fancied that young man somewhat. “He’s grown up now. He ought to be rather interesting. He won’t be a backwoodsman. He’s got a good education—and he always was a handsome thing.”

  As the brilliant summer sun beat down on the city of Williamsburg, Annabelle Denton remained in front of the window staring out. Once, she reached up and drew her hand across her lips at some memory, then a half smile came to her face.

  “Jacob Spencer,” she murmured, and then smiled as if some secret thought passed through her mind.

  Notes to Our Readers

  Well, here we are again at the close of another chapter of THE SPIRIT OF APPALACHIA. We want to thank you, the readers, for making the first book such a success! God has blessed us both so much with this collaboration. Thank you also for all of the kind letters you sent about Over the Misty Mountains. We appreciate every one.

  We hope you have enjoyed this second journey, Beyond the Quiet Hills. We have really enjoyed telling the story of Jacob. Many of you wrote that you hoped there would be more about him and Hawk, so we hope you were pleased. We wanted to wait until the second book to deal with their relationship, as a quick resolution would not have been true for the situation. Jacob needed to deal with his feelings about being abandoned. He portrayed himself as a victim until he was faced with someone who had gone through worse circumstances. He was then able to see how God had worked to bring good out of the wrongs that had been done.

  Once again we felt that you might want to know the real events of the book. The history of this area is so rich and fascinating. If you have enjoyed these books, you might want to check your library for books about the real people who settled in Watauga.

  The settlers of Watauga did meet with the Cherokee in 1772 and did lease the land from them. They had set up their own governing body to make this contract legal. Even though they did not declare themselves independent of any colonial ties, they did govern themselves, and for all practical purposes, they were the first self-governing group on the continent.

  The members of the Watauga Court given here are the true members. The name of the first sheriff was not given, so we thought it would be fun to make Hawk the sheriff. Many of the challenges Hawk dealt with as sheriff really happened. A man named Shoate did steal a horse and was hanged for his deed. Other punishments for horse stealing consisted of branding the guilty with an “H” and a “T” on the cheeks. The “Bread Rounds” incident also is real, although the name of Hiram Younger is fictitious.

  There really was a celebration with the Cherokee in the spring of 1774 to mark the agreement between the two groups. William Crabtree did shoot and kill Cherokee Billie at the festivities, which led to bad feelings toward the settlers by the Cherokee. This tragedy did lead some of the Cherokee to participate in Lord Dunmore’s War later that year. The settlers’ victory did open Kentucky for settlement, led by Daniel Boone.

  The Transylvania Company negotiated to buy the lands of western Can-tuc-kee, now Kentucky, from the Cherokee in March 1775. The Wataugans used this meeting to negotiate the purchase of their own lands. Chief Attacullaculla led the Cherokee in agreeing to the purchases, but his son, Tsugunsini, Dragging Canoe, was vehemently opposed. At the meeting, he did make his famous “bloody ground” speech. He helped his prediction come true by going on the warpath with other Cherokee warriors the following year when the British did elicit the help of the Cherokee against the frontier settlers during the beginning of the American Revolution.

  The Wataugans did form a committee of safety known as the Washington District. This was the first area named after George Washington. This allied the settlers with the colonists against the British and the Cherokee. Knowing that if the British won they would be forced off their lands, the Wataugans established Washington County and made themselves a part of North Carolina. They prepared for war by building new forts and fortifying the old ones.

  Nancy Ward proved her friendship with the settlers when she warned them of the planned attack by the Cherokee. Her warning gave the settlers time to take refuge in the forts, and many lives were saved. The stories of John Sevier, Catherine Sherrill, Ann Robertson, and Lydia Bean around the siege of Fort Caswell are all true. Mrs. Bean was saved by Nancy Ward and returned to her family after teaching some of the Cherokee women how to sew and do other things that the settlers did. The Cherokee chief Old Abram withdrew from the fort after hearing of the defeats of the other bands of Cherokee. Dragging Canoe did set up raiding parties after his defeat. After the Cherokee were defeated by the forces of William Christian and they signed a peace treaty on June 20, 1777, Dragging Canoe refused to honor the peace and took his followers to the Chickamauga area.

  The celebration at Fort Patrick Henry on July 4, 1777, was held to honor America’s first birthday. Many Cherokee warriors did attend and join in the festivities. The frontier had been secured for the new nation, and now the settlers could turn their attention toward the East. They would come to play a major role in the struggle for freedom against the British, as will be seen in future volumes of the series. We hope you will join us for the future expeditions. Again, write and let us know what you think of our book. And keep reading!

  Gilbert Morris &

  Aaron McCarver

  GILBERT MORRIS spent ten years as a pastor before becoming Professor of English at Ouachita Baptist University of Arkansas. During the summers of 1984 and 1985, he did postgraduate work at the University of London. A prolific writer, he has had over twenty-five scholarly articles and two hundred poems published in various periodicals. He and his wife live on the Gulf Coast of Alabama.

  AARON McCARVER teaches drama and Christian literature at Wesley College in Florence, Mississippi. His deep interest in Christian fiction and broad knowledge of the CBA market have given him the backg
round for editorial consultation with all the “writing Morrises” as well as other novelists. It was through his editorial relationship with Gilbert that this book series came to life.

 

 

 


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