Her little shoulders shrugged, smart and dismissing and altogether adorable. “Papa said it’s a boy.”
Eleanor grinned and couldn’t help but tweak the girl’s nose. “Well Papa is not always right.”
“Am I not?” A deep voice wrapped around her from behind.
Grace giggled.
Eleanor straightened and whirled. The heat of her husband’s eyes assessing her curves weakened her knees. Such a look always did. Nevertheless, she threw back her shoulders. “No, sir, you are not infallible.”
His eyes twinkled, and a half smile twitched his lips, lighting his face. Why had she ever thought him dark and brooding?
“Then tell me what I’ve been wrong about, woman.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but in four long strides, he pulled her against him and kissed her. Again and again. His mouth warm as the spring morning, bold as the sunlight that peeked into their window. He tasted and consumed until her legs trembled. And she tasted right back, savoring his passion.
“You know I cannot think when you do this,” she breathed out the words as his lips drifted down her neck.
He pulled away, a triumphant slant to his jaw. “Then I shall answer for you, for I concede there is but one thing I’ve misjudged.”
“Oh?”
“How much I love you.” His tone softened, as did the gleam of victory in his eyes. “I didn’t think it possible, but I love you more every day, uwoduhi atsiyehi.”
She reached up and rubbed her palm along his smooth cheek. She’d never tire of the feel of his warm skin or the huskiness in his voice when he spoke his heart. “I shall miss this romantic side of you. You are a different man living in the city.”
“Yes … and no.” He caught her wrist and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I am a different man, but Charles Towne has nothing to do with it. It’s you, Tatsu’hwa. Living with you has changed me. Inoli saw that after our first week together.”
A shadow darkened his clear, brown gaze, breaking Eleanor’s heart. He still mourned his friend—and likely always would.
As changeful as a March breeze, the look passed, and he released her hand. Sidestepping her, he swept up Grace, then wheeled about. “The horses are ready, as is the wagon. Are you certain you want to leave all this city life behind?”
Her gaze skipped past him, darting from wall to wall, remembering the winter they’d shared here as husband and wife. The cozy hearth that warmed them on their first night together. The glass windows keeping stormy weather at bay while they snuggled beneath a down counterpane. Was she really ready to give up all this comfort? Trade it in for a cabin not yet built in a wild backcountry filled with danger?
She stared at her husband, picturing him in his trade shirt, loosened at the neck, exposing muscle and flesh instead of the buttoned waistcoat hiding his chest. Him swinging his axe in the open air, not skulking around with businessmen or Indian agents. Grace running free in the wind, golden hair streaming behind. Eleanor’s hand rested absently on the tiny swell of her belly. Their son, growing into the same kind of man as his father, friend to the Cherokee, one with the land—a land that held her heart captive.
She reached for Samuel’s hand. His bare palm pressed against hers, the strength and warmth entwining her fingers still able to send a jolt up her arm. She peeked up at him, a grin growing with each of her words.
“I have never been more certain of anything in my life. Take me home, Samuel. Take us all home.”
Glossary of Cherokee words and phrases
Alewisdodi – Stop
Anesta – Stickball, a major Cherokee sport
Ani’yunwiya – The Cherokee, literally the Principle People
Doh-nah-dah-goh-hun-I – Until we meet again
Edoda – Father
Eligwu – That’s enough
Elisi – Grandmother
Etsi – Mother
Gawonisgv – Talk
Gilisi – English
Ha – Now
Inoli – Black fox
Ipa – Open
sa’gwali digu ‘lanahi’ta – Mule
Tatsu’hwa – Red Bird
Un’ega – White people
Uwoduhi atsiyehi – Beautiful wife
Wado – Thank you
Wohali – Eagle
Ya’nu – Bear
Historical Note
Regulators
Outlaw gangs and criminals roamed the Carolina backcountry in the 1760s. Citizens organized to “regulate” government affairs and establish some kind of law and order. These regulators operated of their own volition, tracking down outlaws and thieves and enforcing their version of justice. Some of the leaders became corrupt and attacked innocent settlers for personal gain. Eventually the governor realized the legitimacy of the colonists’ plight and established courts even in the far reaches of the area. By 1771 the movement was ended.
Attakullakulla (At-a-kula-kula)
Attakullakulla was a Supreme Chief of the Cherokee who held the highly honorary position of Beloved Man. He helped negotiate numerous treaties and agreements with the English. Because of this, the Cherokee lost much of their land in the Southeast. He and his son, Dragging Canoe, differed in opinions and eventually split ways during the Cherokee-American wars.
Bibliography
There is a wealth of information on Colonial Carolina, but here are some of my favorites:
Edgar, Walter. South Carolina: A History. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1998.
LaCrosse, Richard B., Jr. The Frontier Rifleman: His Arms, Clothing and Equipment During the Era of the American Revolution, 1760–1800. Union City, TN: Pioneer Press, 1989.
Logan, John H. A History of the Upper Country of South Carolina. Charleston, SC: S. G. Courtenay & Co., 1859.
Moore, Peter N. World of Toil and Strife: Community Transformation in Backcountry South Carolina, 1750–1805. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 2007.
Woodmason, Charles. The Carolina Backcountry on the Eve of the Revolution: The Journal and Writings of Charles Woodmason, Anglican Itinerant. Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1953.
Discussion Questions
1. In chapter 1 and throughout the story, Eleanor Morgan resorts to a prayer she teaches her young charges: My precious Lord; My only hope; My Saviour how I need You now. Do you have a prayer or portion of scripture that you bring to mind regularly?
2. In chapter 2, Molly Brooks tells Eleanor that she’d married because her husband’s “words filled me clear up with hope.” Is there anyone who encourages you in such a way? How can you be an encourager like that? Who is one person you could encourage today?
3. In chapter 25, Samuel Heath finally realizes he’s accepted God’s forgiveness but has continued to condemn himself. Has there been a time in your life when you’ve had that same kind of battle? Why is it so hard to forgive ourselves?
4. In Chapter 29, Standing Raven tells Samuel he cannot straddle a river for long and expect to remain standing. Read what the Bible has to say about indecision in Matthew 6:24. When have you had a hard time making a decision between two things?
5. In chapter 38, Eleanor describes Biz Hunter as, “no friend she would have chosen, but Biz was an unconventional gift nonetheless.” Is there a person God has placed in your life that you wouldn’t have chosen to associate with yet you are now glad you know? Think about taking time to write that person a note of gratitude.
6. Colonial life in the backcountry of South Carolina involved lots of struggles. What kinds of struggles are you facing today? There is hope for those struggles, no matter how devastating. Read Nahum 1:7.
Acknowledgments
A book is written by a single person but crafted by many. My heartfelt thanks go out to my faithful critique partners: Ane Mulligan, Lisa Ludwig, Shannon McNear, Kelly Klepfer, MaryLu Tyndall, Julie Klassen, Chawna Shroeder, and Yvonne Anderson. I couldn’t do this without y’all.
Writing is a solitary profession but impac
ted by many. I am grateful for: Annie Tipton, the editor who made this book possible; Becky Durost Fish, grammar queen extraordinaire; Laura Frantz, for Colonial insights; Darrie and Maria Nelson for the writing retreat; Donald Smith, for teaching me the mechanics of a flintlock; Hugh Lambert, Cherokee historian with super amounts of patience for questions; Luther Lyle, director and curator for the Museum of the Cherokee; Aaron Griep, my fight scene guru; Kimberli Buffaloe, for South Carolina flora and fauna wisdom; and Stephanie Gustafson, who encourages unfailingly.
And a huge shout out to all my readers. You make this crazy journey all worthwhile.
About the Author
Michelle Griep has been writing since she first discovered blank wall space and Crayolas. She seeks to glorify God in all that she writes—except for that graffiti phase she went through as a teenager. She resides in the frozen tundra of Minnesota, where she teaches history and writing classes for a local high school co-op. An Anglophile at heart, she runs off to England every chance she gets under the guise of research. Really, though, she’s eating excessive amounts of scones and rambling through some castle. Keep up with her adventures at her award-winning blog “Writer Off the Leash” or visit michellegriep.com. She loves to hear from readers, so go ahead and rattle her cage.
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Brentwood’s Ward by Michelle Griep
Place an unpolished lawman named Nicholas Brentwood as guardian over a spoiled, pompous beauty named Emily Payne and what do you get? More trouble than Brentwood bargains for. She is determined to find a husband this season. He just wants the large fee her father will pay him to help his ailing sister. After a series of dire mishaps, both their desires are thwarted, but each discovers that no matter what, God is in charge.
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