Heart's Surrender

by Rosanne Bittner

  He was gone then, and Rose huddled into a dark corner with Ruth, horrible memories engulfing her. She struggled to be strong for the others, struggled not to scream. Martha Bluecrow held Jonas, who was wriggling in her arms, and Andrea hurried over to the boy and took him, trying to invent a game that would keep him quiet. Outside they could hear muffled shouts, and the ground shook with the passing of several horses.

  Upwards of an hour passed, during which they heard more distant shouting. Jonas fell asleep, finally, in Mrs. Bluecrow’s lap, and Andrea scrambled to the one and only window of the cellar, a single glass pane that was so dirty she could barely see through it. She quickly wiped away one spot with her bare fingers, just enough to peek through. She saw nothing at first, and she struggled against her desire to scream, praying heatedly for Adam’s safety.

  She could feel horses returning then, coming closer and closer. She watched with terrified eyes, wondering if they were coming here for her and the others. Gradually the animals came into view, but they kept moving, horse after horse going on past. She began to feel relieved until she saw what followed the horses.

  “Oh, dear God!” she whimpered.

  “What is it!” Rose asked quickly in a near whisper.

  Andrea just stared a moment longer. Hurrying behind the horses, trying to keep up so they would not fall, were Reverend Jessup and Dr. Cunningham, both hooked to the horses’ harnesses with heavy chains, their wrists cuffed. More chains were hung around their shoulders to weigh them down, making it next to impossible for them to remain upright for long. But both men walked proudly, trying to keep their shoulders straight. Minutes later Margaret Jessup could be seen running after her husband, her children all following, until some Cherokee men grabbed her and tried to console her.

  Andrea climbed down and looked at Rose and Martha. “The reverend and Dr. Cunningham. They just took them away…in chains.”

  “No!” Martha gasped. “They’re…they’re good men…men of God! What kind of animals are these people, to drag away men of God, men who preach the gospel and help God’s children?”

  Andrea turned away, grasping her stomach. “They aren’t animals, Martha. Animals are kinder, worth much more than those men.” She thought of Douglas Means and his depraved mind. She didn’t know if he’d been among today’s riders. She hadn’t been able to see them well. “They’re the devil’s helpers,” she declared. “They’re evil demons. The devil is hard at work here, Martha.”

  “You’re white, Andrea,” Martha returned. “You could go north now and get away from all this. Perhaps you shouldn’t even stay, child.”

  Andrea turned back to meet the woman’s dark eyes. “No. I am no longer white, Martha. And I won’t take the easy way out. I love Adam. I love the Cherokee. I won’t desert them now.”

  The woman shook her head. “You’re a good girl, Andrea. But you’ve seen what they’ve done with their own kind, good Christian men at that, men of the Cross. No one is exempt now, Andrea. Your white skin won’t save you.”

  Andrea walked over and picked up Jonas. “I’m well aware of that, Martha. I never expected it to save me. Besides, I don’t need saving. I am right where I want to be.”

  They heard footsteps overhead then, and the cellar door opened. Andrea cringed into the shadows until she heard Adam’s voice. “Everybody okay down there?”

  “Adam!” She hurried to the stairway and climbed up, and in the next moment she was in his arms. “Thank God, you’re all right!”

  He held her tightly as the others came upstairs, Ruth helping the now-wakened Jonas climb up step by step. “They were after the missionaries,” Adam said quietly then, his voice heavy with sorrow. “Jessup and the others have been arrested for advising us to fight removal, and for refusing to take the oath of allegiance to the state in order to have permission to reside among us. I have a feeling it will be bad for them. They will be used as examples.” He met his mother’s eyes. “We all know what that means. Several people are with Mrs. Jessup now, trying to console her.”

  “I’ll go over there myself,” Rose stated, walking over and taking down her shawl from a hook.

  “Oh, Adam, where will it end?” Andrea sobbed. “Poor Reverend Jessup…and Dr. Cunningham. Who will deliver my baby!”

  He pulled back then, to wipe tears from her cheek. “Hold on there. What baby?” He pushed some hair back from her face and their eyes held.

  “Our baby,” she answered, holding back a sob. “Around Christmas, I think. I…I wanted to find a good time to tell you, but so much has been happening that I haven’t…had the chance.”

  His eyes teared. “I’ve neglected you, haven’t I?”

  “No, Adam. You didn’t mean to. I know how hard it is.”

  He bent down and kissed her tears. “I’m sorry, Andrea. And I’m happy about the baby. I just wish…” He sighed deeply. “I wish I knew what kind of future he or she will have.” He hugged her tightly. “Listen, you calm down and stay here. Start some supper. I’m going to see what needs to be done to get Jessup and Cunningham and the others out of prison. I’ll be back in time for supper.” He kissed her hair. “We’ve got to try to keep some kind of order in our lives, to keep some kind of family life going, for Jonas’s sake. I hardly know my son.” He kissed her eyes then. “And lately I hardly know my wife. Here you are four months’ pregnant and you’ve kept it from me. My poor, sweet Andrea. You must get so scared. But I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever.”

  He kissed her quickly and, in one quick gesture, brushed his lips past her ear. “Tonight,” he whispered, as though he thought she needed to hear it, needed to hope, and she did. She knew he’d decided he had to stop letting the tragedies around them interfere with their own sweet love, for each moment was precious. They both knew the day could come when something would tear them apart in spite of all his efforts to stop it, and the realization that their love was so threatened created a sudden hunger in both of them, a sudden desperation that told them they must not waste one moment. Men had been dragged away from their loved ones this day. Who would be next?

  Adam turned on his side to face her as she came to bed after soothing Jonas to sleep. He would not tell her the terrible news that outriders had brought that evening—that the reverend and all the missionaries who had been rounded up that day were going to be forced to walk all the way to the county jail at Lawrenceville, chained to the backs of wagons. The trip would take several days, and Adam did not doubt that the militia would see that they made at least twenty to thirty miles a day. By that first evening some missionaries had already been beaten and spat upon. Adam knew it would only get worse, but despite the atrocities around him, and because of them, he felt a sudden need to remember that there were beautiful things left in the world, that there was still love and gentleness. He had played with Jonas until past the boy’s bedtime, and now his beautiful wife was crawling into bed beside him. She reached to blow out the lamp.

  “Don’t,” he told her quietly. “I want to look at you.”

  She met his dark eyes, more full of tenderness and passion than they had been for quite some time. She knew the torture he suffered over his mother and sister, the grief he still felt for his father, and the worry that plagued him over this latest event. She reached out and touched his face.

  “I didn’t mean to sound like a spoiled little girl, complaining that I’d felt neglected lately. God knows neither one of us—”

  He put his fingers to her lips. “I’ll not let them keep me from enjoying my wife and family. I’ll not let them destroy our marriage, Andrea. And lately every time I look at you and Jonas, I find myself wondering if the next day you’ll be gone, somehow stolen away from me.”

  She studied his handsome face as he bent closer to kiss her neck. Breathing in his masculine scent, she ran her hands over the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders, realizing that it was torture for him not to seek vengeance for the atrocities committed upon his mother and sister. He was more than capable of
handling himself. He was strong and skilled and unafraid, and he often lamented that it was not the “old days” when he could have sought Cherokee justice. She could not help but imagine what a fine warrior he would have been. But the white man fought a different kind of war, a war of words and laws and tricks, the kind of war few understood. But the Cherokee, highly intelligent, were the first Indians to give the government an almost insurmountable challenge. Now the government was getting desperate, and so was Georgia’s government. The militia was fighting mean and dirty, fighting the physical side of the war that the Cherokee were not allowed to fight. They could only sit and watch, and Andrea knew that on the inside that was killing Adam Chandler.

  His kisses grew more urgent then. He had something to prove to himself, and she knew it. He must prove she was really there, that no one had stolen her away or hurt her again. And in his heart, he was grateful for her pregnancy, although he worried about what kind of future he could give two children.

  “Asgaya,” she said softly as he pushed aside the front of her gown and kissed at a breast. Yes, he was her beloved man, no matter what happened to them. He always would be. He had been her love since she was fourteen. Now she was nearly twenty, though all they had been through made her feel much older. She had been forced to mature, to be strong, to deny fear and to stand by her husband no matter what dangers that might bring.

  He moved up and devoured her lips. It had been a long time—too long. On their journey north they had nourished their sweet love, had found peace and happiness. She had even gotten pregnant again. That was a good time. And they could both go there again, live there if they wanted, even though he would have to start all over again. But they would not. There was a point to make by staying, a battle to be won. Yet what would be the toll on their love? That was the question that haunted them, that made them hunger for one another, their intense desire suddenly emerging in writhing bodies and heated kisses. Her gown was soon off, and they enjoyed the glory of skin against skin, enjoyed the teasing nakedness, searched each other hungrily. So long! Too long! Why did so many things keep bringing so much sorrow that they could not enjoy this? Why did all these things have to happen now, when they had found each other again and were married and so much in love. This should be their happiest time. They were so young, so in love, so healthy. It wasn’t fair that so many things should happen to destroy their love. They would not let them. They must not!

  He whispered her name in a husky rasp, his whole body alive for her now, his eyes enjoying her beauty, his heart loving her, his skin tingling at her touch, his manly needs suddenly keen and almost painful. Then he kissed her rapidly, almost desperately, her face, her neck, her taut nipples, her belly, her thighs, and that secret place that he’d sworn no other man would see or touch.

  Andrea allowed herself to forget the horrors she had known, to stop wondering what had happened to her first baby, to forget the awful events of this day, to let go of her fear and sorrow—just for these moments. How else was one to go on living, to find strength, to keep alive a marriage and the sweet love that had brought it into being. He moved back up her body, whispering loving words in the Cherokee tongue, its soft flow always exciting her. Let the government and the militia do what they would, they would not destroy this, not even if she and Adam were forced to be apart. Nothing could stop her from loving this man forever, her Adam, the Cherokee boy who’d so gently stolen her virginity under the oak tree. This handsome, virile man belonged to Andrea, every inch of him, every hard muscle, every dark hair. The lips that moved over her now were gentle and teasing, and little flicks of his tongue made her breathing quicken. She was limp in his hands. She always had been. Those strong hands knew just what to do with her. He could be brutal if he chose, and she could not stop him. But when he was with his woman Adam was a tender man.

  He was soon inside her, his hard thrusts reminding her that her man had not had his woman in a long time. His movements were urgent and somewhat demanding, and she found herself arching up to him in a needy response, wanting all of him, pulling him in so that she might enjoy every last bit of him, even though that sometimes brought some pain, for Adam Chandler was well built. She enveloped his manhood in a moist warmth, inviting him into her depths and offering the ultimate pleasure as they surged toward each other in rhythmic motion, each lost in the other, each feeding on the other and drawing strength. When they were one this way, their courage grew, their determination became stronger, their love unconquerable.

  She raised her head and kissed his shoulder, running delicate fingers over his nipples and making him feel on fire. He studied the blue eyes that glittered with ecstasy and knew how much he pleased her. Then she gasped and dug her fingers into his arms, and he could feel the pulsations of her most female parts as they tightened and pulled; and he knew he had brought her the ultimate ecstasy. He surged harder then, holding out, wanting to give her the enjoyment she deserved, wanting to love her in every way. But soon he could no longer control his own ecstasy, and he spilled his life deep inside her, thrusting several times more until the glorious throbbing eased.

  He seemed to go limp all at once then, and rolled off her slightly but pulled her immediately into his arms.

  They lay there quietly for a few moments while he toyed with her golden hair. “I won’t let it go so long next time, Andrea. I promise.”

  “I thought maybe…I don’t know…maybe you were a little bit angry with me.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know.” She blinked back tears and kissed his chest. “For being white, I guess. Right now I wish I weren’t.”

  He smiled and squeezed her close. “Reverend Jessup and the other missionaries are white. It isn’t the skin, Andrea. It’s the heart. There are bad hearts among the Cherokee, too, you know. Some talk now of leaving, and some are out-and-out traitors. I think I know who might have told the militia to single out my family. I’ll know at next meeting.”

  She pulled back, her eyes wide with concern. “Adam! You won’t make trouble?”

  “I don’t know yet. It depends on what happens. But I’ll not let my father’s death and what happened to my mother and sister just be forgotten. Someone turned my father in, Andrea, and he’s got to be made public. All I have to do is figure out how I’ll keep from killing him with my own two hands.”

  “Adam, please be careful!”

  He sighed deeply. “I’m tired of being careful. But I will, for your sake and for Jonas’s…” He ran a hand over her belly. “And for the sake of the next one. Are you sure, Andrea?”

  She nodded. “I just wish Dr. Cunningham could be here.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Maybe he will be, if we can get him out of prison. But I’ll be with you, no matter what, and there are plenty of women who know what to do.” He rolled onto his back, rubbing at his eyes. “I just wish I could give you the kind of home you deserve. I’d rebuild the house if I thought it was safe, but we can’t go back there. My father’s land is too close to the white border. I had quite a bit of money hidden in a root cellar. I managed to find that. And I found one sympathetic white man on the other side who agreed to buy what cattle we had left. I have enough to keep us going for a while, but I don’t know for how long. I can’t farm the place, and right now I can’t go into anything else, like teaching or business. The government stops us on all sides, forbids everything.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing it. “Hang on, Andrea. Someday I’ll make a good life for you again. That’s a promise. I swear it.”

  She snuggled into his shoulder. “All I need is you and Jonas, and the baby. I don’t care how we live, Adam, as long as it’s together.”

  She thought about the first baby. He was four now, four years old. Did he look like Adam? Was he happy and loved? All their searching had turned up nothing. More and more she realized she would have to accept his absence, accept the fact that she would probably never see or know her first child. But he was in God’s hands, and this was not the
time to bring that up to Adam.

  “Adam.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Was…was he with them…Douglas Means?”

  He sighed deeply, tensing at the name. “No.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief and snuggled against him. “I thought of something today, Adam, something that frightened me.”

  He toyed with her golden hair. “What’s that?”

  “All that work we did in the North, all the talking and collecting money, getting petitions signed, and greeting people who wished us well—it all seemed so wonderful, so nice to have so much support there. Yet despite all that we got from them, there was one thing they did not offer.”

  He kissed her hair. “What are you talking about?”

  “Refuge.” She kissed his chest, her heart heavy. “They never offered us refuge. No one said that if we absolutely cannot stay in Georgia, we’re welcome to come north to some nice place rather than go to Indian Territory. And nearly all of their Indians are gone now. They’ve either died off or are living in the West. In the end, if we must leave, I wonder how much the North will back us then. If we have to move west, I’m afraid they’ll just stand and watch like all the others.”

  He didn’t answer right away, but she could feel him trembling. “I’ve already thought of that,” he said, his voice sounding strained. “But for now we’ll take what we can get from them and hope that’s enough. Now go to sleep. We must deal with one day at a time, and I just want to hold you in my arms and not think about it.”

  She said nothing more, and he was soon asleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The meeting place was packed; the Georgia Militia would not stop them. They met late at night inside an old barn. Adam sat at a front table with Elias Boudinot, John Ross, and others, but his eyes were on Luke Cloud, a man he had watched carefully throughout several meetings. He had been told that his father had argued with this man at the meeting held just before the Chandler farm was raided; and Cloud often spoke in favor of Removal, and reminded the others of the benefits to be gained from the government if they left now and stopped fighting. There were few who spoke in favor of Removal, and antagonism against them was growing. However, the People were being torn apart by differing attitudes, and Adam, like John Ross, feared a split that would destroy all their efforts.