He sat up, wide awake. How could he sleep when his mind and body were so full of Andrea Sanders? How could he rest when he ached constantly from a need to be inside of her. The moment he left her he felt tense and confused, anxious for the next time they could be together. He got up from his bed and went out into the hall. A light came from beneath the door in his father’s study. He was close to his father. He loved the man very much, and had always been able to talk to him. Perhaps it was time.
He went back to his room and pulled on a pair of pants, then went out again, down the stairs to the door of the study. He hesitated, taking a deep breath for courage, then knocked on the door.
His father’s gentle voice told him to enter, but Jonas Chandler looked surprised when he saw Adam. “I thought it was your mother,” he told him.
Adam swallowed and closed the door. “No. I…couldn’t sleep. I need to talk to you, Father.”
Jonas leaned back in his chair and motioned for Adam to sit down in a chair across the desk from him. “Let me guess,” he said. “This is about a girl.”
Adam looked at him in surprise, and felt a flush coming to his cheeks. “How did you know?”
“I am a man, once a boy, remember? I have seen how different you are lately. I sometimes see a very troubled look on your face; at other times you are very happy. Something has been going on in your life, Adam. Who is she? I know that pretty little Cherokee girl, Cynthia Washington, has been eying you.”
Adam looked down at his lap. “It isn’t Cindy, Father.” He sat there for several quiet seconds, trying to get up his courage. His father waited patiently, a tiny alarm building in him. “She’s…she’s white.”
There was a long period of silence. But when Adam finally raised his eyes to meet his father’s, he saw no anger there. “Please tell me it isn’t one of those promiscuous, unkempt whores from the other side of the ridge, my son.”
“Oh, no! Not one of those girls. How could you think that?”
The man sighed deeply, as though relieved. “What else was I to think? You went off with one the night of the dance and left poor Andrea Sanders—” He stopped, eying his son closely when the boy looked away at the mention of Andrea’s name. “Not Andrea!”
The boy looked at him defiantly. “Why not Andrea? She is beautiful and sweet and I can talk to her. Yes, it is Andrea Sanders. I love her, Father, and she loves me. I’m tired of hiding it. I want the whole world to know!”
His father rubbed at his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. “Adam. Adam. Why couldn’t you have made my life easy and chosen a Cherokee girl?”
“A man has to follow his heart, Father.”
Jonas Chandler studied his son’s dark, sincere eyes, seeing the love there, the fear, the desperation. “You’re right, son. And when the leaves fall from the trees, you will be seventeen. With your size, your education, your dependability and the hard work you do, you are every bit a man. Therefore, I cannot rule your ways any longer, cannot tell you yes or no. You must make your own decisions. But your uncle will not be pleased, Adam.”
“He also can no longer rule me. I love her, Father. I don’t know what to do. I think…I think if she knew her parents would approve, she would marry me right now. I want her to be my wife, but she is afraid to tell her father. They would not approve of a Cherokee boy marrying their daughter, she is sure.”
His father rose, looking suddenly tired. “And she is probably right. The Sanderses were hospitable to us, but I could sense their deeper feelings when we visited them. I do not fully trust them, nor do I trust their friends, the Meanses, especially that boy Douglas.”
“Andrea says Douglas is gone now. He joined the Georgia Militia.”
The man turned, anger in his eyes. “The militia! Of course. I would have expected that. He’s probably among those who continue to raid Creek villages.” He clasped his hands behind him and began to pace. “Tell me, how have you been able to see Andrea? How long have you been seeing her? How…how serious is this?”
“We are very serious. We have been…meeting at a secret place only we know about. She goes riding and meets me there.”
“That is deceitful, son. You have both been sneaking around behind our backs. You should have told me from the beginning.”
Adam hung his head. “I am sorry, Father. But how could I tell you? I thought you would disapprove just as her own father does.”
“I do disapprove! Not because Andrea is white, but because of the harm this could bring to both of you. I would never stop you from marrying any girl you love, no matter what her race is. If she were a slave girl, I still would not stop you, if it meant your happiness. It is you I am concerned about. You know the implications of this, Adam. Our friendship with the border whites is very tentative. If we arouse them against us, it will make our cause even more difficult. Already half the state of Georgia wants our land. They all look for excuses to make us leave. To sneak around with this girl and be found out—or even to bring it into the open deliberately—could bring disaster. I think you should stop seeing her, for your sake, for the sake of the People.”
“No!” Adam rose then, tears in his eyes. “You can’t ask me to stop seeing her. It…it’s impossible, Father! I couldn’t stop seeing Andrea any more than I could stop breathing. I would go crazy.”
Their gazes held and his father sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. “Yes. How foolish of me to think I can stop young love. The dam is cracked. Soon the waters will rush through, and woe to those who are in the way.”
Adam swallowed, blinking back tears. “What should I do, Father?”
The man stepped forward, grasping his son’s arms. “I will not forbid you to see her, but give it a little more time, son. Perhaps your feelings will change and you will each go your own way. If you feel the same a month from now, come to me. We will go together to the Sanderses’ home and speak with her parents. They might consider it disgraceful, but it is more disgraceful to have your daughter seeing a boy secretly, perhaps living in sin. I am sure they would rather have her legally married, and happy. Surely her happiness is all that is truly important to them.”
Adam turned away. “I am not so sure. The whites seem to think more of how things look than of how happy a person is.”
Jonas studied his handsome son. “Are the two of you already living in sin, Adam?”
The boy remained turned away, quickly wiping at his eyes. “No. Not yet. But I do not know how long I can…can keep myself from her. I want her. If this were the old days, I could take her the Cherokee way, just take her to my dwelling and make love to her, and she would then be my wife. Things were simple then—simple and good and right—until the whites came and complicated everything. I might be educated their way, but my heart is still Indian, Father, and the way we live, sometimes I think it is all mockery.”
Jonas put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I agree with you, Adam. But if we are to survive, it must be this way. You know that. We play the game their way. That is the only way we can win. Remember that. Try to be strong, Adam. Don’t do something foolish. You are young and handsome, and in love. I know it is hard. But to take this girl could bring many consequences. She is old enough to bear children, and it only takes one union. Remember that your own birthday is almost nine months to the day from when I married your mother.”
The boy turned, and there was a sly grin on his father’s face. Adam took a deep breath and smiled bashfully. “I will remember. I wouldn’t want to bring her harm, Father. I would never want to hurt Andrea.” He turned away again. “Besides, she’s never…I mean…she’s afraid. I’ve never touched her that way.”
“Ah, but young love can be very persuasive, and there is a first time for everything. Be careful, Adam. Try to think clearly, objectively. If, in another month, as I said, you still feel this way, we will have to do something about it, for your sake and for hers.” The man moved back behind his desk. “You’d better get some rest now, son. You have a lot of riding to do tomo
rrow, more messages to deliver and votes to pick up.”
The boy nodded. “Thank you for talking to me, Father. I feel better.”
“It is very lonely not being able to tell anyone what troubles you, and not being able to share the joy of your love.”
Adam walked to the door. “You are right. I feel more sorry for Andrea. She cannot talk to her parents at all. She is afraid of them.” He shook his head. “And she is their only child. This will not be easy, Father.”
“Nothing has ever been easy for us since the white man came here. We can only take one problem at a time, Adam, and hope for the best. Pray about it, son. Have courage.”
Adam quietly exited. He would try to sleep. It was true he had a lot of riding to do the next day, and the morning after that he was to meet her again…under the great oak. It wasn’t just his tree now. It was their tree, his and Andrea’s. It sheltered them, protected them, hid them from the outside world with its massive arms, its foliage; and it smiled down on their sweet love. Perhaps they could just stay there forever and no one would ever find them.
The moment Andrea dismounted from her pony and ran to him, Adam’s common sense and his promises to his father vanished. He wrapped his arms around her, whirling her around, meeting her sweet lips, wanting her as much as ever. She laughed as he carried her in his arms to the tree and set her on a blanket, then laid her back, pressing against her, imprisoning her beneath him.
“I missed you,” he said, studying her blue eyes lovingly, fingering her blond hair.
“I can hardly stand it when we’re apart, Adam.”
“Nor can I. That’s why I…we have to do something, Andrea. It’s too hard this way. I…I told my father…about us.”
Her eyes widened and her smile faded. “What did he say?”
“He was good about it. He does not object to our being together, but he is worried it would bring trouble to our family, to the Cherokee. We do not want to make any more enemies than we already have. He thought I should stop seeing you because of that, but I told him I would never stop seeing you.”
Her eyes teared. “He doesn’t like me.”
“That isn’t true! He likes you very much. He understands how we feel, Andrea. He is just afraid of what might happen. He said I could keep seeing you, that if we still feel this way in another month, he will go and talk to your father so that the honorable thing is done.”
Panic showed in her eyes then. “No! He must never tell my father. We…we could run away or something. But don’t go to my father!”
“Surely your parents want you to be happy, Andrea. I cannot run away with you. It would disgrace you. We should do it the right way, Andrea.”
“But father would never—” She hugged him tightly. “Oh, Adam, they’re sending someone right now to invite Ruth to our home for the weekend. That means I can’t meet you Saturday. But worse than that, I heard them talking.”
“Who?”
“My father, and Mr. Means. They only want Ruth to come so they can question her about what your people are up to. It isn’t to be friendly. I truly like Ruth. I would enjoy having her visit. Please believe me that I have no reason to ask her except as a friend. But I want you to warn her not to say too much to my father and Mr. Means.”
His dark eyes filled with anger and disappointment. “So, that is the way it is then. Even some of the border people are plotting against us. I’ll bet some of them can’t wait to get their hands on our land.”
“Don’t you see, Adam? I thought in the beginning I could one day tell my parents, once they knew all of you better. But I know what’s in my father’s heart, and there is no love there for the Cherokee. I don’t know what to do, Adam. I love you so.”
Their eyes held, a desperate, hopeless desire building; and fear began to grip their young hearts, fear that they might never openly display their love, never be able to share their joy with their loved ones or share their love through marriage. Suddenly time and circumstances were pressing in on them, and all of Jonas Chandler’s advice to his son was quickly forgotten. Nothing and no one was going to stop Adam Chandler from having the girl he loved. He met her lips, wanting to brand her, overwhelmed by a need to be sure he was her first man, desperately praying he would be her only man for the rest of her life.
Their salty tears mixed together as they kissed, and both could taste them. Their burning love and the hopelessness of it all only made everything more urgent now, more natural and necessary. Suddenly petting, touching, rubbing, kissing, were not enough. They were not children any longer. After all, in just three months she would be fifteen, and soon thereafter he would be seventeen.
Passion and a desire to prove adulthood consumed them both. They needed to show their elders that they could make their own decisions, choose their own partners, share their bodies whenever they wished. It was their right, for they were in love. And now it seemed every moment just might be their last. They could no longer waste these precious visits.
He moved his lips to her neck, fumbling at the buttons of her dress, wanting to again touch the breast he had seen and kissed a few days before. “God, Andrea, I love you. I want you so bad.”
“I want you, too,” she whimpered. “I’m so scared, Adam. But ever since the last time…when you touched me.” She shivered with passion. “Adam, I want to be your woman. I want it so bad. Just don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me.”
He met her lips again as his hand slid inside her dress. He kissed her with a hot passion that made him seem ready to explode. The touch of his fingers on her breast made her feel faint, but she had decided and nothing was going to stop her. She was terrified but ecstatic at the same time. After hearing her father talking about ways to get rid of the Cherokees, she would cling to every moment like this. She would no longer deny this man she loved his pleasure. She would be one with him, and nothing her father or anyone else did could change that ever.
Jonas Chandler’s words were just a faint ring in Adam’s ears now. He was his own man. He would make his own decisions. Andrea was telling him he could make love to her. He wanted to see her naked, wanted to be inside her, wanted the privilege of the manly duty of being the first to invade her. That would make her his forever, no matter what anyone on the outside tried to do. That one thing could never be changed. She would belong to him for the rest of her life, and once her parents knew they would have no choice but to let them marry the Christian way and be together. Yes! This was the answer! He would take her and show them all.
He slipped the dress off her shoulder and her heart pounded furiously. Then he raised himself on one elbow, his eyes glazed with love and desire. “I love you so much, Andrea,” he said quietly as he unbuttoned the front of her dress. “I would never hurt you.” He carefully pulled the other side of the dress away, baring both her breasts. When she closed her eyes and reddened, he leaned down and kissed each pink nipple.
“Adam,” she whimpered. “Oh, Adam.”
He groaned her name in reply, tasting each breast more fully then. They were small and undeveloped, like budding fruits not yet fully ripened. But it was enough to be touching them, tasting them. He moved off her then, gently raising her up and slipping the dress off her shoulders and arms. She hung her head in bashfulness, her blond hair drifting over her shoulders and teasingly hiding her breasts.
“I have dreamed of doing this for so long, Andrea,” he told her. She rose to her knees and he pulled the dress and her slip and underpants down to her knees, sucking in his breath at the ecstasy of seeing the soft blond hairs that hid her secret, womanly place; her slender, white thighs; her flat tummy. He leaned forward and kissed her stomach, and she shuddered, whimpering his name again, not sure what to do, terrified but excited. He eased her back down again and pulled the clothes completely away from her. Warm sun glittered through the branches of the great oak, warming her skin in patches, shading her in other places. She closed her eyes as Adam moved a trembling hand over her slender legs, wondering if she might los
e her breath when his fingers lightly touched that most private place.
“God, you’re beautiful, Andrea,” he told her. “I can’t believe how beautiful you are.”
Every nerve in her body seemed to be alive and on fire. He stood up then and removed his shirt and boots, unlaced his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear. Daringly, she watched, and then swallowed her fear at the sight of him. He was just like the male animals, only to her he seemed even bigger. He saw the fear building in her eyes, and he took her hands.
“Please don’t be afraid, Andrea. It has to start somewhere. Surely it gets better, or those wild girls wouldn’t like it so much, and husbands and wives wouldn’t have so many children like a lot of them do.” He lay down beside her. “It’s right, Andrea. I know it is. We love each other. That’s all that matters. If we wait and tell our parents, they might never let us be together again. This way, they’ll have to.”
Her eyes revealed total trust as she reached up to touch his handsome face. “Adam, I…don’t know what to do. What if you…what if I don’t…please you?”
He pulled her close, pressing against her stomach with the huge hardness that brought a frantic beat to her heart. “How could a beautiful angel like you not please me?”
He met her lips again and she was determined now that nothing would make her stop. This was Adam, beautiful, sweet, loving Adam. She closed her eyes and his hand moved over her breasts, down over her flat belly to that secret place no other person had ever touched. She whimpered as his fingers explored, touching something that made her feel wild and free and bursting with love and desire. Her breathing was frantic then, every breath bringing a panting whimper. What was he doing? It was wonderful! She floated on a cloud of ecstasy, an ecstasy she had never known before, now returning his kisses with a wild frenzy, digging her fingers into his arms and shoulders. Her legs were parting daringly, as though she could not control their reaction. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck, her shoulder, her breasts; tasting, lightly sucking, while his fingers worked their wonderful magic until she didn’t care anymore what he saw, what he touched, what he did with her. She was his, fully surrendered, totally willing to let him take whatever pleasure he wanted with her. Surely he was every bit a man, for he knew just what to do with her.
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