Heart's Surrender

by Rosanne Bittner

  Adam’s father grinned. “One day it is a young man that interests you, and the next, dolls,” he declared. “Life is not easy at fourteen, is it, Miss Sanders?”

  She reddened, and he laughed lightly and winked. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “Your secret it still a secret. It will be Adam’s decision as to whether to reveal it, not mine.”

  Her eyes teared, and he was struck by the love in them. Perhaps this was more serious even than he’d realized. He’d known Adam was serious, but he hadn’t been sure Andrea was.

  “Is Adam all right?” she asked. “I worry about him, riding into all those villages, with all the trouble going on—the militia and all.”

  Chandler sobered and nodded. “Adam is fine.” He sighed deeply. “You must be very careful—”

  “Look, Andrea!” Ruth interrupted. “You can have these two.”

  Andrea tore her eyes from Jonas Chandler and took the dolls. “Thank you, Ruth.”

  Jonas straightened. “I will get her bag.” He walked to the carriage, and by then Harriet Sanders was at the door.

  “Welcome, Ruth,” she said in a kind voice. Andrea noticed Jonas glance at the woman warily. Had Adam told him the real reason Ruth had been invited? Of course he had. Perhaps that had made Jonas Chandler respect Andrea more, for warning them. The man looked at his daughter.

  “You remember everything I told you, Ruth,” he said.

  “Yes, Father.” His eyes held hers for a moment as he handed her the bag; then he looked at Andrea’s mother.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Sanders. I hope the day finds you well.”

  “Very well, Mr. Chandler. And you and your wife?”

  “We are both fine.”

  “Good. We shall all have to picnic together sometime.”

  “That would be very nice. I have to run now. I have lots of chores to do. I should have let one of my men bring Ruth, but I felt like going for a ride this morning.” He tipped his hat. “Good day.”

  “Good-bye, Mr. Chandler.” Andrea’s mother forced a smile, then put her hand out to shoo the two girls back into the house. Andrea quickly glanced back at Jonas Chandler, and he winked and smiled. She smiled back. She felt better now. Perhaps everything was hopeless, but at least Adam’s father seemed to like her. That was one tiny accomplishment. And seeing Jonas Chandler had made her feel a little closer to Adam. Perhaps having Ruth here would make the weekend go faster. Then it would be Monday. Monday! She would see Adam again on Monday!

  Mary Means came that same afternoon. It was Andrea’s mother’s idea, not her own. Mary had not been very friendly since Andrea had first spent a weekend at the Chandler home, and Andrea knew she would be unpleasant. She suddenly saw Mary in a different light, saw a lot of Douglas in the girl, saw many things she had not seen before she’d fallen in love with Adam Chandler.

  Mary’s jealousy was obvious. She looked triumphant when her mother first brought her, gave Andrea haughty looks, which clearly said Andrea could not have Ruth Chandler all to herself. And the rest of the day was miserable, with Mary contradicting everything Ruth said. She asked Ruth if her skin got any “cleaner” when she scrubbed it hard, and she told the girl her china dolls were nothing special. She even managed to “accidentally” break one of the doll’s faces, which brought tears to Ruth’s eyes. But Ruth tried to be polite and said nothing. Andrea, however, was furious.

  “You did that on purpose, Mary Means!”

  “I did not!”

  “Yes you did! You’re as mean as your brother!”

  “Don’t you talk about my brother! He’s in the militia! You always try to make Douglas look bad. It’s you who’s bad! He told me you let him look under your dress!”

  Andrea’s eyes widened, and Ruth sat back against the wall blinking back tears.

  “Douglas Means is a liar!” Andrea shouted at Mary. “He’s a dirty-minded liar who is always trying to make me do bad things! I hate him!”

  Mary shoved her, and Andrea shoved back. Just then Andrea’s mother came into the room, shouting for them both to stop. “What is going on here!”

  “She broke Ruth’s doll on purpose!” Andrea answered, pointing to the doll.

  “And she said bad things about Douglas!” Mary retorted.

  “Both of you stop this right now! Andrea, both these girls are your guests, and you will treat them as such or I’ll have your father take you behind the shed and use a stick on you! Do you understand?”

  Andrea glared at Mary, then plopped down onto her bed. “I understand. But why did you invite Mary? It was supposed to be just Ruth.”

  “That will be enough! Mary has always been your best friend, and you know it. I just thought the three of you would have a good time. You have neglected Mary since you started seeing Ruth. I think you should apologize for that, and all three of you should try to get along. Mary, you apologize to Ruth for breaking her doll. You’ve both made the poor girl feel unwelcome. We’ll be having supper soon, and I want you all to come down with happy faces. Your father wants to…talk with Ruth.”

  Ruth looked darkly at the woman. She would do as her father had told her and say nothing about anything, pretend she had no idea of what her people might be involved in. She liked Andrea, and had come for that reason only, no other. She sensed that she was not considered an equal by these people, but that only brought out her pride. Andrea’s mother was still insisting that Mary apologize to Ruth.

  “I’m sorry about your doll,” the girl finally mumbled. Harriet Sanders picked up the pieces.

  “I will put these in a bag for you, Ruth. Perhaps someone can fix it when you get it home.”

  The woman left then, and the three girls sat pouting.

  “I think you like Ruth only because you like her brother,” Mary grumbled to Andrea.

  Andrea scowled at her. “I do not!”

  “Yes you do! I saw the way you looked at him that day we had Sunday dinner here. You think he’s cute.”

  Andrea swallowed back a lump in her throat. “So what if I did? You did too. You said so.”

  “I know it. But he’s an Indian. I’d never let an Indian boy touch me.” She made a face and looked at Ruth. “I only mean in naughty ways, Ruth. I don’t mind having Indians for friends.” Her eyes widened wickedly. “Have you ever seen your brother naked, Ruth? What do Indian boys look like? Are they big like the horses? Douglas said he heard they were.”

  “Stop that!” Andrea ordered. “That’s ugly, Mary Means! How dare you ask her something like that!”

  Mary grinned slyly. “I saw Douglas’s once. He showed it to me.”

  Andrea’s eyes widened, as did Ruth’s. Something had changed about Mary. The girl had a strange look in her eyes now. “Don’t you ever wonder about boys, Andrea?”

  Andrea reddened and looked away. She suddenly didn’t trust Mary Means. What had the girl been up to? “No,” she answered. She met the girl’s eyes again. “And you shouldn’t, either.”

  Mary folded her arms victoriously. “I know something neither one of you knows. I know all about sex. Douglas took me with him one night when he went to see one of those wild girls north of here. He let me watch. I saw everything. That girl even touched me and showed me how to feel good. Now I know everything, and when the right boy comes along, I’m going to let him do those things to me and I’ll be a woman.”

  Andrea just stared at her, while Ruth hugged a doll. Mary grinned.

  “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” She sneered.

  “That’s bad, Mary. How can you be like that? You never used to be.”

  “I didn’t know before. Now I do.” She raised her nose haughtily. “Maybe I’ll go over the ridge sometime and find me a Cherokee boy. I want to see if they look any different. Maybe I’ll even look up Adam Chandler and let him take my clothes off.”

  “Shut up!” Andrea snapped. “Adam is mine!”

  She reddened quickly then. The words had come out quickly and easily. Mary’s eyes widened and she moved closer. “I k
new it! Has he kissed you, Andrea? Did he get under your dress?”

  Andrea shoved her away. “It’s none of your business! It’s…we’re just friends, that’s all! And if you say anything, Mary Means, I’ll scratch your eyes out, and I’ll tell your mother what you and Douglas did! I’ll tell!”

  Mary smiled. “Okay. I won’t say anything, if you don’t. But you’d better let me come over more after this, and be nicer to me.”

  Andrea wanted to scream and run, to cry, to kill Mary Means. Why? Why had she said that? Her love for Adam was too strong. It made her too quick to speak in defense of that love.

  “Don’t worry, Andy. I won’t say anything. It’s more fun this way.” Mary giggled then. “Isn’t this exciting? We never talked about boys before.” She went to the door. “I’m going downstairs to get a drink. And your mother wants us to come down for supper. We’d better go.”

  Andrea hesitated, looking at Ruth. “I’ll be right there,” she answered. “I have to find my ribbon.”

  “Well, hurry up.”

  Mary left, and Andrea turned to Ruth. “I’m sorry, Ruth. I didn’t want her to come.”

  Ruth shrugged. “It’s okay.”

  Andrea blinked back tears. “I’m sorry about those bad things she said about Adam. You…you won’t say anything, will you? I mean…I like Adam a lot, but we’re just friends. My parents would be mad if they knew. I’m not supposed to like boys yet.”

  Ruth stood up, still clinging to her doll. “I won’t say anything. I like you, Andy. You aren’t like her. I know that. Will she go home pretty soon?”

  Andrea nodded. “She’s going home after supper. She used to be real nice. I think it’s that awful brother of hers and that wild girl she met that made her like this. She used to be my best friend, but now you will be.”

  Ruth smiled then. “Really?”

  Andrea nodded and put her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Really.”

  Just outside the door Mary listened, her eyes hardening with hatred and jealousy.

  Andrea did not even reach the oak tree before Adam was there, running down her side of the ridge to greet her. “Siyu, agiya!” he called out, just before grabbing her down from her pony and hugging her hard, then swinging her around. How wonderful it felt to be held! Surely her mother was wrong about everything she had said.

  “Adam! Oh, Adam!” She burst into tears right away. “I did a terrible thing! I told Mary Means that we were friends, but I think she knew it was more than that. I didn’t mean to, Adam. It just happened.”

  He kissed her cheek. “Do not cry, agiya. Ruth told me what happened with Mary. She is a bad girl. She tricked you.”

  “But she’s getting mean like Douglas,” Andrea wept, hugging him tightly. “She’ll find a way to tell. She’s jealous, Adam.”

  He sighed deeply, setting her on her feet and keeping an arm around her while he picked up the reins of her pony and walked her the rest of the way up.

  “Maybe she won’t tell,” he told her. “Ruth told me what she said—about going with her brother and all. You have something you can tell on her, too. She knows that. You probably will just have to keep being friendly with her, at least for now. Once we decide how we can be together, it won’t matter anymore what she says.”

  Andrea wiped at her eyes. “What about Ruth? What did you say to her?”

  “Just what you said—that we are just friends. Her mind still thinks in too young a way for her to see it otherwise.” He gave her a squeeze. “Don’t fret about it, Andrea. Everything will work out. I just know it will. It has to.” He tied her pony and turned to her, hesitating a moment, drinking in her beauty. “It has to,” he repeated.

  It was all too new and wonderful. Both had an aching need to reexperience the wonders they had found in one another. He drew her into his arms, kissing her in a torrent of furious, youthful passion, then picking her up and carrying her to the blanket he’d already prepared. Neither of them wanted to talk first. The keen sexual urgings of youth were too demanding; their sweet, innocent love was too strong. It hurt too much to be apart.

  His kisses soon pulled her into the misty madness of desire, and she let him remove her clothes, afraid it might hurt as badly as the first time yet not truly caring if it did. For this was Adam—beautiful, sweet, strong, brave, wonderful Adam, her Cherokee man. Yes, man. Surely he was no longer a boy, and she was no longer a girl. The shivering wonder of lying naked in the open air, his dark eyes drinking in her nakedness, his strong hands moving over her and feeling every curve, every inch of her skin, exploring secret cavities—this brought on a kind of hypnotic state only Adam could induce.

  In minutes she felt his naked body touching her own. She drew his head down and offered small breasts for his pleasure, crying out his name when he again worked magic with his fingers, touching her in places which only that most special of men—the man she truly loved—must be allowed to touch. And she truly loved Adam Chandler. As his lips moved to her neck, she leaned up and kissed his muscular shoulder, her tears a mixture of joy and fear. His lips moved back down again, tasting each breast, moving over her belly, lightly kissing the blond hairs as he groaned her name. This was something new. She was too bashful for this, and she drew up her knees.

  “Adam, don’t…”

  He moved back up, relaxing her again with his fingers, his mouth skimming her breasts before moving to her lips. “Someday we will do more,” he whispered. “You will see, when you are ready.”

  His suggestion brought on the explosion that ripped through her insides then, as his hot kiss nearly cut off her breath. He was between her legs again, that most manly part of him searching, probing for its bed. Then she felt the pain, only not as badly this time. She cried out at first, but a moment later such waves of pleasure went through her that she cried out in ecstasy rather than pain. He could see that this time she was enjoying it more, and he felt proud and manly. He was pleasing his woman.

  He moved in a natural rhythm, and this time she moved with him. He held back as long as he could, a difficult feat when watching the pleasure and wild abandon evident on her face, when aware of her slender legs and flat belly, and of the blond hair that lay in tangles about her head. It was all done so quickly, but necessarily so, for they had been apart five whole days! His life spilled into her and he groaned something in the Cherokee tongue; then he came down on her, embracing her, remaining inside her.

  “God, I love you, Andrea,” he whispered. “Tell me it didn’t hurt. Tell me I can do it again. I want to stay inside you.”

  Her eyes were closed. He kissed her cheek, her neck; and she ran her fingers through his dark hair. “It didn’t hurt as bad,” she said softly. “I want to do it again, too. I miss you so when we’re apart, Adam.”

  “I miss you, too. It almost hurts.”

  She opened her eyes and looked up into the great tree. They were safe here—alone, together, in love. How she loved this tree. Beneath it, she had found Adam Chandler and love; she had become a woman. It was like being protected by God.

  “We have to do something, Adam. We can’t go on like this.”

  “I know.” He kissed her lips. “I will think of something. Do not worry.”

  She smiled and looked into his dark eyes. “I’m not worried, not when I’m with you this way. It’s when we’re apart and I’m alone that I get scared. In your arms, under the oak tree, I’m never afraid.”

  He smiled. “I am glad you found my tree.”

  “Our tree,” she reminded him.

  He laughed lightly. “Our tree.” He sobered then, and she felt a slight surging inside of her. “Andrea…”

  “It’s all right, Adam. I’m ready.”

  He kissed her hungrily then, began to move rhythmically again. Her own passions mounted as she felt his manhood growing inside of her, and soon her breathing was as rhythmic as her movements. She could whimper and cry out up here, and there was no one to hear. He could groan her name and voice his pleasure in her, tell her
sweet, teasing things that made her blood run hot.

  This time it took longer for him to rid himself of his seed. Now he could hold back better, and she was still moist and willing from the first time. They moved in rhythmic splendor, both enjoying, neither able to get quite enough of the other. Slightly raised up, he watched her, studying her beauty, the small breasts that were his alone. She reached up and felt the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders, running her fingers down over his chest to his strong thighs and then circling his hips and tracing his belly and chest before touching his face, running her fingers through his hair. It was the longest they had ever been joined, and it was their most enjoyable union yet.

  Finally he found release, in a shuddering moment of pure glory. Gently, he moved away from her then, to lie down beside her and draw her into his arms.

  For several minutes they simply lay there, neither of them talking. Finally he drew another blanket over them.

  “Are you all right?” he finally asked.

  “I’m fine,” she answered in a small voice.

  He kissed her hair and sighed. “There is quarreling among my own people now,” he told her. “Some of the wealthier ones argue that if we leave right now, before the Georgia citizens start coming down on us, we can avoid losing everything we have, avoid losing our wealth.”

  “What does your father say?”

  “He says never, and so do I. We will not sell ourselves out like that. Pride comes first. Our love for the land comes first. Let them do what they will. They will not get us out of Georgia.”

  She kissed his chest. “It’s all so horrible, especially knowing my own father would like to see you go. Ruth didn’t tell them anything. They asked plenty of questions, but she acted like she was ignorant of everything.”

  “Ruth is a good girl. We fight sometimes, but we love each other. She is smart.”

  Andrea choked back a sob. “Oh, Adam, what are we going to do?”

  He kissed her hair. “We are going to love each other. That’s all. Just love each other and trust in that love. It will keep us together.”