The Far Side of Lonesome

by Rita Hestand

  Again she was silent, but after a bit, she spoke.“You are right about that. I understand, but no…you’re wrong too. There were others...that grew to feel the same as I. Maybe it was because we were captives for so long. Or maybe it was because we appreciated their kindnesses. I don’t know. But there were women who refused to go back to their people—for more reasons than one. We talked of many things as time went by, the resignation you feel when no one comes immediately to rescue you—the hopelessness of the life before. A few white men came to our camps a couple of years later, and all of them—you could see it in their faces—the disgust for us. The fact that we preferred to live instead of die made them hate us. Some of them were family too. But that didn’t matter…the feelings were there and we could see it in their faces. It is hard to image going back now.”

  “And you…why didn’t you refuse to go with us, you had to know there would be more trouble? If the chief cared for you and your son, why would he send you away?”

  “I did refuse at first…but the chief said it would help make peace for his people, if I went. I had grown so used to it there. I felt I was safe. Now the uncertainty stares at me again. And you are right, I did not want to leave, because I loved the old man and his son. They wanted me to leave the baby with them…so he would have a chance, but I could not leave my child. I could not. They were right…but I could not leave him.”

  “He didn’t understand…that old chief. Hoot and I…we’re black men. There ain’t a town alive that would tolerate a black man bringin’ a white woman back to civilization from an Indian camp where she had birthed an Indian baby. Don’t you see? Not in Texas, not anywhere.”

  “Yes, I see…but what am I to do? I’m going with you now, I know not where, or what I will face. But do I really have a choice? I can't go back now, I am dead to them now. And I am dead to the white people too. But I go nonetheless.”

  Jeb grew quiet. He had no answers either.

  “Crowfoot was not a handsome man,” she said, changing the subject some time later, as though Jeb were interested in her Indian husband. “But he was a proud man, a good man, and I was proud to bear his child. No man could have been prouder of his child, than he. He was so pleased to have a son. He treated me…like a human being.” She said raising her chin in defiance, “I’m not ashamed to say it. He was my husband.”

  “Crowfoot, huh?” Jeb repeated the name. “Well now, what do they call you, ma’am?” Jeb asked out of the blue.

  “My white name was Sarah. My Indian name was Moonwalker, as I walked at night many times around the camps,” she announced. "In the Comanche camp I walked to get away, in the Shawnee camp, I walked to observe, to learn, to be with them."

  “Well, Sarah,” Jeb hollered loud enough for Hoot to hear. “This here is Hoot, and I’m Jeb.”

  Sarah nodded to Hoot. Hoot twisted his head around to look at her and smile and nod.

  “We’ll camp in a couple of hours and then we gotta talk… some more.”

  She nodded.

  Jeb caught up to Hoot and told him what the woman had told him.

  “You think that buck’s gonna come after her?” Hoot asked after gathering all the information.

  “Maybe, maybe not. Shawnee ain’t a bad lot, for Indians.” Jeb explained. Jeb cleared his throat and glanced at Hoot, “Maybe we should give her back…”

  “Give her back? Are you serious? After all this, you want to just hand her back to them Indians? She’s a white woman, Jeb. She deserves the chance to make it in her world,” Hoot said. "It ain't right, giving her back to the Indians. She's a white woman…And yes…I ain't a bit sure they will want her."

  Jeb smiled at his friend, “I just needed to know how you felt about it, Hoot. Don’t get riled. We’ll figure something out. But this shore ain't a easy problem to settle.”

  “God knows that woman has faced more than most men could. But…we ride into town with her and there will be a ruckus, and you know it. We hand her back to the Indians, how we gonna live with ourselves? We’re not that kind. We’re better than that. We seen too much hate. Still, I don't have no answers. Even I been searchin' for some, but they just don't come.”

  Listening to the clop of the horses against the dry canyon lands of north Texas, Jeb rubbed his chin. “I got some ideas, but first we got to talk to her…”

  “You know there ain’t a decent town gonna accept her with that kid along…” Hoot snorted. “Or even her with us. That poor woman just traded one problem for another. And so did we. We should have rode them old horses out of there and this wouldn't be happenin'. We could have walked 'em.”

  “She didn’t have any choice…Hoot, but be quiet. She came with us, to help them, to help bridge a peace between the white and the Indian. They’d let her go with the grandson of the chief, it’s unheard of. And I doubt the white will even understand the nature of that gesture. They must have thought a lot of her to let her take her child with her. You know they didn't have to let her.” Jeb explained. “Don’t you see, she’s had troubles for five long years, trying to figure out how to stay alive? She don’t need to hear ours.”

  “I expect you're right about that,” Hoot agreed and took a drink of water from his canteen. He glanced at the woman who spent most of her time not looking at them but the scenery about her.

  He stopped and offered the woman a drink, and she took it without even wiping his spit away. Hoot smiled at her, he'd be danged if he'd take her back to the Indians. The little things about a person made Hoot size them up, and right now, this little lady was shore different than any white woman he ever met.

  Jeb couldn’t keep from smiling at her actions too. “Easy…not too much at once…”

  She nodded and gave it back to him after she whetted the baby’s lips with a ribbon she soaked in water. The baby hadn't wailed or cried, but sat contentedly in his cradle.

  Not much moved along the canyon except the whiz of grasshoppers and an occasional jackrabbit or two. The rattlesnakes were out and about too. Jeb kept his eyes peeled for them. A few willows dotted the dry landscape as they passed the dried up watering holes. The land was barren and lifeless. The summer had been too dry. The grasses had long turned brown, and the trees were losing their leaves.

  * * * * *

  That evening Jeb took out the bedroll and made the woman as comfortable as he could. But instead of sitting, she began to rummage through the gear and found some food to prepare for them at the campfire. Beef jerky and canned beans seemed to be the best she could do as the waterhole offered little fishing.

  No one complained. She served them as she had obviously been used to doing for some time. They nodded and smiled at her.

  As they all settled back, and she uncradled her child, Jeb glanced at her. He noted the way she laced and unlaced his cradle so easily, as though she’d done it many times. He wondered how many things she learned in the Indian camps. Such an unusual woman.

  He admired the spunk in her to stay alive and to survive any circumstance.

  “Sarah, I don’t want to bring this up, but it has to be said before we get there and it has to be decided upon now. Those people in town….they will accept you and take you in, but they won’t allow that baby to come with you. I think you already know that. Just the site of him will change their opinion of you too. Now, Hoot and I, we know it ain’t natural to separate a mama from a calf, but those refined townspeople ain’t gonna see it that way. So we gotta figure out what to do. You got any notion where you need to be headed?” Jeb asked her.

  Sarah let the baby sit up and play with a stick, and then looked at the two men. “I had two babies by my first husband, two girls. I want to get them….and then I’ll go it alone…I expect.”

  “Alone? Fool woman, don’t you know…you can’t do that.” Jeb frowned at her. Just because she had survived with the Indians didn't mean she could tackle life alone.

  “My husband is dead, I have no relatives to speak of…I’m alone now. That’s part of the reason it was e
asier to keep livin’. I knew my man was gone, and there was no one else to care for me. The only hope I ever had was those two girls. Just thinkin’ on them kept me goin’ at first. Seein' them in my head, knowin' maybe someday I'd be back with them. My baby girls. It kept me going, kept me sane all during this time. I know I won't be accepted, but I can get my girls and we can go make a life somewhere.”

  Jeb and Hoot both nodded, but they both doubted it somehow. Her children might not understand any of it.

  She saw their faces of concern though. “I know you are right about the town. My husband told me to use the gun if those Comanche’s got too close, but I when the time came, I just couldn’t do it. I knew what he meant. I saw the arrow pierce his chest, saw the glazed look in his eyes as he lay dying. He urged me to use it. But I just couldn’t do it…..” she let a tear escape down her cheek. “The good book don’t respect takin’ your own life. It’s God given, and takin’ it away is a sin. I couldn’t do it.”

  “It’d be hard to do alright, ma’am.” Hoot nodded and handed her his bandana.

  “Maybe I should have…because there is no place for me now…I'm an outcast, and I know it.” Sarah announced sadly, her shoulders slumping and she flopped on the ground hard as though she just realized how futile to go on might be. “I guess you two are kinda sorry you brought me, too….”

  “No, ma’am. We’d of done it anyway. But don’t you have family somewhere…? Isn't there someone you can go to?”

  Sarah stared at them, her eyes searching their expressions.

  “Do you honestly think my family would be any different than the townspeople? Knowing I’d been a captive that long—and bore a child. It's the child they won't accept and I won't accept living without him….When I got married, my father disowned me. I’d been an old maid, all of twenty-one and never married or had children. He wanted me to marry the banker’s son. A fat, spoiled son of a rich man. We didn’t even like each other. I refused and when John Litton asked me to wed and go west, I jumped at the chance to get away. I hadn’t known him over a week or so, but we didn’t have time for proper courting. He was moving west. That’s the last I seen of my folks. I never looked back. Never regretted it. There are more than one kinds of prison, and I've been in several. But…I do have a sister; if I got word to her…she might come for me. A sister and two daughters. She’s more than likely got my kids with her. In fact, I'd bet on that. Where else could they go?”

  Jeb shook his head. “Family can be down right intolerable sometimes. But don’t you reckon they would be happy to have you returned safely?” Jeb asked.

  “I don’t know, I don’t have any idea how she would feel seein’ me now, with him…,” Sarah admitted glancing toward her son. "I knew when I had him, my life had changed. But I loved my Indian husband…I grew to, and I'm not ashamed to say it. And I was proud to give him a son. Little good it does him now."

  "Did he approve of you goin' off with us?" Jeb asked.

  "No…" she closed her eyes in a prayer. "They tied him to a tree and bound his mouth so he could not speak. He fought it like a tiger. I cried for him, but the chief had made up his mind. He said it would bring peace to the valley and that the white man would learn to respect the Shawnee for giving up their own. The old chief was a dreamer…it would never happen. His grandson will likely be an outcast most of his life. But at least I will be there for him….He will always be loved."

  “Yes, ma’am. I understand.” Jeb watched her closely. The baby played happily at her side with the stick. He was a cute little chunk. Jeb smiled at the boy, and another strange feeling entered his heart. He had no family and deep down somewhere in a dark corner, he knew he wanted a family of his own. He had squashed it so deep he forgot those feelings, until now.

  “Goin' back now, to live with the white family seems strange. Strange and almost unfamiliar. I hope I do not embarrass myself.” Sarah admitted. "It's been so long. I am not sure I can act or think like a white any longer."

  Jeb listened to her story and glanced at her and the baby several times.

  He’d been worried all along what they were gonna do with this white woman. But the minute he rode into town with her, heads would turn and they’d all be in danger. Negroes didn’t belong with whites anymore than Indians. The woman had no chance to survive. That was the truth. What were they gonna do?

  He whispered a prayer because he knew he couldn't solve this himself.

  If you got any ideas, now's the time to show us the way!

  But once he’d made the decision to take her from the Indian camp, he’d put everyone’s life in danger and he knew it. Yet what else could he do? He couldn’t leave a white woman with the Indians, it just wasn’t done. And the white people wouldn’t appreciate him and Hoot bringing her back.

  And as old as her children were, they might not even want her, then what?

  Even his own people would frown upon his decision. He had fowled things up and he didn't know how to make it all come right.

  Hoot was upset and nervous and Jeb couldn’t blame him, for he hadn’t thought much about what they would do once they got to civilization again. Now that decision bore down on him like a rattlesnake about to strike.

  Chapter Two

  Bone weary and tired Sarah refused to complain. She suddenly realized how these men must feel. They had rescued her, and put themselves in a quandary. Everything they said was the truth and she knew it.

  They were both Christian men she mused, while her eyes took them both in as they rode in front of her. She hadn't been around many Negroes before, but after living with the Indians it no longer seemed odd. Black or Indian, what did it matter, her white friends wouldn't approve. The funny things was, she no longer cared whether they approved of her or not. She was finally free once more and somehow that freedom had to matter.

  She looked to the heavens suddenly, for the first time in a long time, and then closed her eyes, “God show me the way to go…for I am lost.”

  Jeb turned to glance at her just then and she saw his face, a face of awareness, not of lust, not of hatred, but pure awareness. Her heart fluttered heavily in her chest, and she turned her eyes away.

  Her eyes lowered until he turned around, then she looked at them both. Hoot was a big man, tall and broad and quite strong, with a gentle heart. Jeb was not as tall, not as big, but strong nonetheless, muscled and capable of handling almost anything, except maybe this situation. Both men were close to her age.

  Fear didn't enter her feelings. These men would not harm her, she knew that instinctively. Fear could be smelled, she was familiar with it.

  But it was the instant understanding in their voices and eyes that told her she was safe for the time being.

  She sighed. But for how long? Jeb was right, the women in the white settlement would despise her. Would the white men respect her like Jeb and Hoot? It played on her mind, heavy like. Did she have a choice now? The Indians had given her away, it would be wrong to go back to them, yet where did she belong?

  Maybe she should convince these men that she could go it alone. She might even have a better chance if she was alone.

  As they broke for camp that evening she decided she would talk to Jeb.

  She took her bedroll from her horse and unwound the beef jerky she had stored there. Jeb offered some canned beans and peaches and she licked her lips and smiled.

  “Peaches, I love peaches. I haven’t had any in so long…” Sarah laughed, hearing the sound of her laughter startled her. Such a simple thing to make her laugh.

  Jeb and Hoot smiled and continued to build a fire and unload for the night. After seeing to the horses, Jeb came into the camp and watched her as she prepared them food.

  Sarah figured it was time to talk to him.

  “I was thinkin’. It might be best if I go on alone.” She cleared her throat as she unlaced the baby from his cradle and let him play in the dirt.

  “Alone?”

  “Well yes, as you pointed out, it might be safe
r for us all. I can find my sister’s place and go see her…then…there won’t be any trouble,” Sarah explained, as Hoot came into camp and took his hat off.

  Jeb shook his head, “We can’t just turn you lose out here in nowhere. We need to at least see you to safety.”

  Sarah realized that these two men were really worried about her, and the fact that they cared made her feel things. Like an unfrozen heart, she looked at them with raw emotions. Tears welled in her eyes, but she had long ago learned to keep them there and not let them fall.These two men changed things, melted her cold heart and made her feel once more.

  “Then see me to my sister’s and just let me go about my own way, from there. I don’t want to cause trouble for either of you. It's not my intention to put you in harms way. I understand what the white men would do to you if you showed up with me. I won't put you both in that kind of situation. You don't deserve it, you had no choice in the matter.”

  Hoot glanced at Jeb.

  “The Lord himself put you in our path, ma’am; we’ll see you to safety then be on our way.” Hoot assured her.

  Jeb reluctantly nodded. “Have you thought about what we talked about, though? About them not accepting you?”

  “I was thinking on that all along. It’s a chance I’ll have to take….” She stared into his warm brown eyes. "What choice do I have? It is something I must face and find out for myself. I cannot go on until I do. I will collect my children, and that alone will give me the greatest of pleasure…."

  He nodded again. “And if it don’t turn out?”

  She still stared, but there was a smile on her lips and in her eyes, “Then I’ll have to find the two of you and hook up.” She laughed for the second time in a long while.

  Hoot looked at Jeb and broke out into a big smile, then Jeb’s mouth quirked too. “All right…I guess that much is settled then.”

  Sarah felt warm inside now, as she knew these men would not hurt her and that they meant the best for her. She felt almost…happy.