“Bastards!” he muttered through gritted teeth. “They’ll never make me leave my home, my mountains, my oak tree!” His eyes were teared, and Andrea wanted to hug him.
“It will be all right, Adam.” She touched his arm, but he pulled away and strode outside. The wild white girl quickly followed.
Andrea’s heart felt like lead. She had not seen Adam anymore that night; when his father had come to take his family home in the buggy, he had only said that Adam had told him he’d come along later. “He is sixteen,” Jonas had declared when his wife had protested. “He is old enough to make up his own mind about things.”
“You know where he went!” she had retorted angrily.
But Jonas had only grinned. “He only goes the way of all young Cherokee boys who have things to learn. Now be still, Rose, and do not question him in the morning.”
Andrea had known then why Adam had left, and she’d hated him. She had never hated anyone so much as she hated Adam Chandler at that very moment. She’d wished she didn’t have to stay another night in his house. In fact, she wished she could go home right now, and she wondered if she was going to be sick. Everything had turned out horribly, after a beautiful beginning. Everyone was angry and upset over the Creeks, afraid the same thing would happen to them. And Adam had surely gone off with that wild white girl.
The thought of him doing bad things with that girl, of the girl touching Adam, brought a horrible, aching jealousy to Andrea that made her want to scream. She wanted to be the one to touch him, and to be touched by him. She wanted to be the one to please him and take pleasure in him. Instead it would be that awful white girl who would probably do things Andrea couldn’t even imagine doing. She felt stupid, ignorant, frustrated. Tonight Adam Chandler would be frolicking in the hay with that wild girl, and Andrea Sanders would be sleeping with his little sister and all her dolls! Never had she struggled so hard not to cry, and when they reached the Chandlers’ home she hurried into the changing room where she could be alone and cry quietly into a towel.
Ruth was soon asleep, but Andrea lay awake, staring into the quiet blackness of the night. It seemed hours before she heard a horse coming. Quietly, she got out of bed and hurried to the window.
“Take my horse, John.” The voice came from below. It was Adam’s. Andrea heard footsteps come inside, a door close. She hurried to her bedroom door then and opened it a crack. She could see him in the light of the burning oil lamp in the hallway. He carried his suit jacket, and his shirt hung outside his pants, partially unbuttoned. His hair was going in all directions, and a piece of hay was still stuck in it. She could not resist letting him know that she knew, and she stepped out into the hallway.
He looked at her, startled. Then his eyes moved over her, taking in the flimsy summer nightgown she wore, and she realized she hadn’t even put on a robe first. She folded her arms self-consciously, blinked back angry tears, wanting to shout at him but unable to because everyone was asleep. He came closer; then, to her surprise, he bent down and kissed her lips lightly. She could smell cheap perfume and straw.
“Will you still come next Saturday?” he whispered.
She was amazed that he’d even consider she would. “No!” she whispered in reply. “I know where you went, and I hate you, Adam Chandler!” She whirled and went back into Ruth’s room, closing the door.
Adam only grinned. She’d be there, he was sure. And he was sure of something else. He loved Andrea Sanders, no matter how young and silly she was. He loved her. And someday she’d be his wife.
Chapter Four
Andrea brushed her pony, wanting nothing more than to keep busy, busier than she had ever been. It was the only way she could stand the hurt of knowing Adam had gone off with that wild girl. Sometimes she regretted telling him she hated him, but mostly she was glad, even though she knew down deep inside it wasn’t true. She didn’t hate Adam Chandler at all. In fact, she was beginning to wonder more and more if she loved him. Why else would she get these weak feelings when thinking about him? Why else would she dream about letting him touch her, wonder how it would feel for her own naked body to touch his. Why else would she feel this horrible fury at the thought of his being with some other girl?
She was home again. Adam had not joined his family at the breakfast table, nor gone to church with them. When they returned from church, Joe was there to take Andrea back, and she only got a glimpse of Adam when he looked up at her from a corral where he was working with a new horse. He’d waved, but she had turned her head and refused to wave back. That had been the end of it.
Now she was wishing more and more that she could have had one last chance to talk to him. Maybe all boys went to those wild girls, just to learn things. That was what his father had said. Surely it was a sign of respect for her that Adam had picked one of those girls to learn such things with, rather than to insult her. Her feelings were wildly mixed. She wanted to be touched that way, yet she didn’t. She found the thought of it both fascinating and frightening. And now Adam was even more of a man. What had he learned? What would he do with her under the oak tree? She would be wise to keep her vow to him and not go next Saturday. But already she knew that by then she would be crazy with the desire to see him again, and with curiosity over whether or not he still liked her. She was so confused, and yet there was no one with whom she could talk.
She heard a carriage then, and looked out to see the Meanses coming to visit. It was late Sunday afternoon, and they almost always came then. She scowled. It would be fun to see Mary and tell her of her experiences with the Cherokees, if the girl wasn’t too mad and too jealous to talk to her. But she never looked forward to seeing Douglas. He would have prying questions, now that she had been on the “other side.” He would tease her about liking Cherokee boys, and she would have to deny it, even though it was partly true.
She kept brushing her pony. She had to finish that before going to the house. Maybe she wouldn’t go at all. She didn’t want to answer their questions, to see Douglas’s prying gray eyes. She didn’t want anything right now but to be alone, to think, to dream about Adam, to wonder. But after a few minutes she heard the hated voice behind her.
“Hello there, Cherokee girl,” Douglas spoke up sneeringly. “Did those Indian boys teach you anything? Maybe now you know how much fun it would be to roll in a haystack with me.”
She turned and scowled at him. “Shut up, Douglas Means! You make me sick!” She threw down her brush. “I’m going inside.”
He grabbed her arm, painfully. “Your folks said you were out here, so I just casually stepped out the back door. Thought I’d pay you a little visit before you go in. What was it like, Andy? Did that girl’s brother play around with you?”
She kicked his leg and he grunted, letting go of her. She started to run, but a second later he grabbed her again, throwing her into some hay. “Come on, Andy. You can tell me. It’s him you went to see, isn’t it? It wasn’t for Ruth.”
“You’re a dirty-minded—” Her words were cut off by a cold, wet kiss. She tossed her head violently to get away from his lips, but he only laughed, running a hand over her breast. “Andy, Andy. I know you want it. You just pretend you don’t.”
“You let me up or I’ll scream so loud everybody in the house will come running!” she spit at him. “I don’t care what you tell them, Douglas Means! Tell them anything you want! But you’ll still look bad and be in a lot of trouble!”
His eyes turned icy and he got up. “You’re a cold bitch, you know that? Someday I’ll catch you at the right time, and I’ll get under those skirts, Andrea Sanders.” He brushed himself off. “And don’t think your Cherokee boy is going to come and beat me up or something. He wouldn’t dare! Indians get in a lot of trouble when they bring harm to whites, and then everybody would know you’ve been laying with him.”
Her eyes filled with angry tears. “You rotten liar! I hate you, Douglas Means. And I’d rather die than let you touch me!”
He just grinned. “Your s
weet Cherokee boy has to be more careful now, little girl. They all do. You heard what’s happening to the Creeks?”
“I’ve heard.”
“I’ll bet,” he sneered. “Makes no difference to me. It’s about time this land was opened up to respectable white settlers. Fact is, I’m joining the Georgia Militia. I want to get in on some of the action.” He smoothed back his hair. “I’ve heard sometimes there are opportunities to carry some of those young Creek girls behind the woodshed and spank their bare bottoms.”
She felt ill at the remark. “You’re sick, Douglas Means. You get sicker all the time. Go ahead and join the militia. I hope you get killed!”
He just snickered. “I expect I’ll have me a good time before I do. I leave next Friday for Atlanta. Won’t you miss me, Andy?”
She brushed off her dress and pulled hay from her hair. “It will be the happiest day of my life!” She whirled and walked out. How she hated him! Now she didn’t blame Adam so much for the wild girl. Surely he’d done that so he wouldn’t treat her roughly when they were together. He’d learned from someone else so he would be kind and patient with her. He’d never treat her the way Douglas had just treated her.
She knew she should tell her parents and Douglas’s parents about what he was like, but she was afraid they wouldn’t believe her. Douglas had a way of turning things around and looking innocent. They’d brand her as a bad girl, maybe even punish her. And Douglas would just laugh. He’d love to see her get in trouble over him—poor, innocent Douglas, whose tender young man’s needs were tempted by naughty Andrea. She could just hear his story.
Her eyes stung from angry tears. She felt more and more alone, and more drawn to Adam, who seemed to be becoming her only real friend. She was anxious now for Saturday to come, glad Douglas was leaving on Friday. That was good. He wouldn’t see her go up the ridge.
She went inside and was greeted like some kind of celebrity. Everyone wanted to know all about her experiences, except Mary. She sat in a chair, glaring at Andrea with jealous eyes. She didn’t like her being the center of attention. It seemed that as Mary got older, she got more and more like her brother, and Andrea felt she was losing her best friend. She kept smiling at Mary, trying to warm the girl, but Mary would have none of it.
“What do the Cherokee have to say about the Creek?” Wilson Means asked her.
Andrea shrugged. “I think they’re a little bit afraid. They had a meeting about it last night, and are having a big one this afternoon.”
Her father spoke up. “They’re smart people. So far they’ve made every right move to keep from being included in the Removal Policy. But it will catch up to them eventually.”
Andrea looked at him in surprise. It was an oddly threatening statement. Were her father and Wilson Means plotting against the Cherokee after all? Was their offer of friendship only a pretense? Had she been sent to stay with Ruth just to find things out for them? Perhaps her father had only bought this land in order to be close to Cherokee land, to move in and take some of it over once the Cherokee were banished. It made her heart sad.
“Are they still working on a constitution and talking about being a separate state?” Wilson asked.
She met his eyes. They were too eager. “I…I don’t know.”
The man sighed and looked at her father. “You’re going to have to send her back there at least once a month, Morgan. To me, setting up a Constitution and a separate state are nothing short of treason, and good reason to raise a public outcry against the Cherokee. I know it seems like we’re grabbing at anything, but they’re so damned smart, we have to look for any little thing we can use against them.”
Andrea’s eyes widened. “Use against them? What are you talking about?”
Her mother rose. “Never you mind, Andrea. You take Mary up to your room now and play. You’ll have to help me with supper soon.”
Andrea wanted to ask more questions. But her mother’s instructions could never be questioned. “Come on, Mary.” She turned and went up the stairs, and Mary reluctantly followed, half stomping her feet on the way to show she was mad.
“Why don’t you send Mary once in a while, Wilson?” Andrea’s father was asking. “I don’t like using my daughter like a spy.”
“Well, neither do I. I’d share the responsibility if I could get her to go. She refuses to stay in a house where Indians live. What can I do to make her go? She’s a stubborn little thing. I can’t force her.”
“Well, for now I guess we have to keep up the visiting and trading. No sense letting on about anything. Just let things happen as they will. First the Creek, then the Cherokee. It’s only a matter of time. Is Douglas still joining the militia?”
“Yes,” Wilson answered proudly. “He leaves Friday for Atlanta.”
“You must be very proud of him. That’s a brave thing to do.”
“Oh, I am proud! I’m sure he’ll do fine.”
Andrea closed her door, and Mary sat down on the bed, pouting. “Oh, Andrea, what was it like? Did they have meetings? Is their house pretty?” The girl asked the questions mockingly.
“Mary, I’m sorry you didn’t get an invitation, too,” Andrea said politely.
“I don’t care! I didn’t want to go stay in a dirty Indian’s house anyway.”
“It wasn’t dirty at all. It was quite grand, Mary, all clean and polished, expensive rugs and furniture. It’s a huge house, and Ruth has a great big collection of china dolls.”
Mary folded her arms. “Good for her. And what about her brother? Did he try to be friends with you?”
Andrea took off her shoes. “Don’t be silly. He’s sixteen, almost a man. He was very polite, and I hardly saw him at all. He was working all the time, or else going to meetings.”
Mary sighed. “He is good-looking. I’ll admit to that. But he’s Indian.” She made a face.
“So what? I bet if he liked you, you’d faint dead away, Mary Means.”
The girl put her chin in her hand and thought, then grinned. “Maybe.”
They both started giggling then, and Andrea felt better. Mary was still her friend, at least for a while.
Andrea led her pony up the ridge again. It was Saturday! It was finally Saturday! She had never been happier. Not only was she going to see Adam, but Douglas Means had gone away. Maybe things would work out after all. Her parents would highly disapprove of what she was doing, but she didn’t care. She would not let anything stop her from seeing Adam again. She’d suffer anything to be with him, to find out if he still liked her, to tell him she was sorry for what she’d said. Maybe he would have some explanation, and he would kiss her again; then she could get rid of the awful anxiety and jealousy that had plagued her since that night he went to be with that wild girl. Maybe he’d promise not to go anymore.
It was a pretty day, warm but not too hot. Everything smelled sweet, birds sang, and there was a gentle breeze. As far as her parents knew, she had just gone riding. They’d never find her on the ridge, never find the secret oak tree. From below it was impossible to spot it.
Would he be there? She’d told him she would not. Would he come anyway? If he did, it would mean he still liked her, that he was wishing she’d come so he could see her again. She climbed higher and higher, leaving the farm behind, leaving her problems behind. When she finally came out on top, she panicked for a moment. The oak tree was not there. She had taken a different direction. Should she go left or right? If she didn’t get there soon, Adam might think she wasn’t coming at all and go back down. She tried to get her bearings and decided to walk to the right. She walked nearly a half-mile before she saw it, but she didn’t see Adam. Her heart quickened, and she tied her pony and walked to the great tree.
“Adam?” she called out.
He moved from behind a huge branch, behind which he’d been hiding like the first time. He smiled. “Here I am.”
She smiled back. “I was afraid you’d already left.”
He swung down. “I waited extra long, hoping
you’d show up.”
Their eyes held then as he walked closer. “I missed you, Andrea.”
She swallowed. “I missed you, too.”
He looked ready to kiss her, but he just took her hand, leading her to the soft grass beneath the tree. “Sit down, Andrea. We’ll talk.”
She hesitated, still standing and looking down at him. “Why did you go off with that girl, Adam?” She could not help asking it, bold as it might be.
He sighed. He’d had a good time with that wild girl, that was sure. She’d shown him things he’d never dreamed men and women did. But he’d come away still hungry. He met Andrea’s eyes.
“There were things I had to know, if I’m to be a man,” he told her. “How could I learn them with somebody like you? You’re the nicest girl I’ve ever known. I don’t ever want to hurt you.” He looked away, actually seeming embarrassed. “I was wishing that girl was you the whole time. And I knew then that…that I love you, even though we haven’t known each other long.”
She just stood staring at him, unable to find her voice at first. He met her eyes again and reached up. When she took his hand, he drew her down beside him. “You probably think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
He slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she looked at her lap and shook her head. “No,” she said quietly. “I feel the same way. But I thought, when you went with that girl…” She sniffed and a tear slipped down her cheek. “I thought you didn’t like me anymore, and the thought of…of you…and her…It hurt bad. I wanted to hate you.”
He rubbed her shoulder. “I never want you to hate me, Andrea.” He bent over and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.”
She turned her face to his, and instantly his lips were on hers. This kiss was different. It was sweet like before, yet more searching, perhaps more experienced. He parted her lips and put a hand to the side of her face, running his tongue along her lips and making her feel limp and passionate. He finally released the kiss, and all her hatred and jealousy were instantly gone when she looked into his dark eyes.
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