by Rita Hestand
“So where does your sister live?” Hoot asked as she dished them out some beans and jerky.
“Down in a place called Round Rock….” Sarah said.
“We’ve been through there, got this big ole rock in the middle of a stream. Looks mighty peculiar all right.” Jeb laughed.
“That’s it.”
“All right then, guess we’re headed for Round Rock. We’ll keep to ourselves, out of the way of the main trails, to avoid troubles and when we get close, we’ll see you get to your sister’s and be on our way, then…” Jeb said.
Sarah felt a pang of something in her heart, as though their leaving her would affect her. That was silly, these men were just doing a good deed, and it wasn’t as if they cared for her or anything. But the void wouldn’t go away even as she reasoned it.
* * * * *
Long into the night Jeb wrestled with turning the woman lose on her own. He prayed she’d be all right, but the worry didn’t leave him. This woman had been through so much and it wasn't over yet. How much could a person take?
The woman had no chance no matter what happened. And it worried him, because he had interfered and brought her with him, now what was he supposed to do with her? At the time it seemed like the only thing he could do. Hoot had agreed. They couldn’t walk off and leave her there. Now, it seemed like the dumbest thing he’d ever done.
He sighed and knocked the fire down a bit.
He was about to get some sleep when someone opened fire on their camp.
Hoot and Jeb grabbed for their rifles and motioned for the woman to get down.
Sarah instinctively grabbed for the baby and covered him with her body.
There was a tolerable amount of scurrying about, bushes moving, yelps and then silence. Jeb knew the Indians were out there waiting for them to make a mistake.
They were in a heavy set of brush and it was hard to see who was shooting at them. But just by the way the attackers moved about, it was for sure and certain it was Indians.
The woman suddenly crawled up behind Jeb and whispered, “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“Crowfoot most likely. You stay down.” Jeb instructed.
“Maybe I should go back to them…” she offered, her face pale in the moonlight.
“You really want to do that?” Jeb hollered as he frowned at her and watched the play of emotions crossing her face. He saw the moment of hesitation.
She shook her head, “No…but you pointed out this evening that there was little future for me, with my child along. My girls might not have anything to do with me either. Crowfoot loves us…I’m aware of that too. And without my son I’d be nothing. I can’t and won’t give him up, because he has no chance in this world without me. I love him, I'm his mother. It’s a fact; I’m on the far side of lonesome. There’s no use the two of you getting killed on the count of me. If I go back the chief will understand…eventually.”
Jeb frowned, “Maybe, maybe not. You’re right about the far side of lonesome, Hoot and I know that feeling well. But, we’ll figure this out and everything will work out. We just got to use our heads, that’s all…and maybe pray a little too.”
“Why?” she twisted her head in question. “Nothing you do will change how the whites think about the Indians. Besides, why you want to get mixed up with a crazy, white woman?”
“Why?” Jeb looked incredulous at her.
“You’re a black man; why would you worry over the fate of a white woman?” she asked, as she checked the baby and saw him sleeping comfortably behind a tree.
Jeb closed his eyes for a minute, and then stared into the blue of her eyes. Hoot and him had come full circle with that one. They had religion and that explained most of it. A person needed to do what was right, even when he knew he could get killed doing it. And this woman, this particular woman had come to mean something to him. Even to Hoot, he could tell.
“First of all, I’m a man, a decent man, ma’am. Hoot and I aren’t the kind to run from hard times, even when we been backed against a wall. And this is about as hard a wall as they come. We’ve been there plenty of times. And it’s true we’ve been lookin’ for easier times ahead, but the Lord put you in our path, and I reckon you’ll just have to stay there until we figure out what we’re gonna do. The Lord knows what he’s doin’ even when we don’t.”
She frowned, “You’re a Christian? And you’re very stubborn too, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am…”
Hoot saw the bushes move and he shot into them. There was a yell. He was sure he got one.
Before he had time to reload they were attacked by two warriors. Both had heavy paint and limber bodies that seemed to bend in illogical places as they swept down on them. Hoot threw the Indian down to the ground and they wrestled back and forth for several minutes until the Indian got hold of his knife and was aiming at Hoot’s throat.
Sarah glanced around, picked up a rock and threw it at the Indian. The Indian lost the knife and Hoot took the advantage by knocking him out with a right hook.
Jeb was scrambling in the dirt for leverage. This Indian was bigger, more powerful, and nearly had Jeb bested, but Jeb grabbed a stick and poked the Indian with it. The Indian grabbed his face and was about to tear into Jeb with his tomahawk when Sarah grabbed Jeb’s rifle and killed him dead. The sound of the rifle echoed against the stark quietness of the evening.
She shook as Jeb rose up to his full height.
Seeing the blood oozing from the man on the ground, she threw the rifle down and went to lean over the dead Indian. Tears rolled down her cheeks, as she looked down into her husband's face.“I didn’t mean for it to come to this.” She cried aloud. She turned on Jeb then and shouted, “You should have left me there.”
Jeb went to stand over her. He looked first at her then at the dead Indian. It had to be Crowfoot.
“I’m sorry,” he barely whispered. “Truly I am…”
She glanced up and nodded, “So am I. Oh God, so am I.”
The baby whimpered and she went to check on him.
Jeb and Hoot stared down at the body. “Guess we better bury them…”
Hoot nodded and they both walked back to camp to get the shovels.
Chapter Three
Jeb spoke a few words over the Indians and Sarah picked some wildflowers to lay on top of the grave of Crowfoot. She stood over him, holding the baby and silently crying. Jeb watched her a long time. The woman was torn in half from having to always chose a side. Anyone could see that on her face. Rightfully so, she had loved this Indian, and her grief was like a festering sore.
“You may not believe this, but he was a good man, and his son will know it,” she promised.
“Yes, ma’am, I believe it.” Jeb nodded."He came after you, even over his father's wishes. He was a good man…."
Hoot nodded.
She looked up at him, “Why do you believe it?”
“Because if he wasn’t, you couldn’t have no feelin’ for him…”
Hoot and Jeb left her to grieve.
They slept and the next morning as she poured them both coffees, she asked, “So, where is your folks?”
“You don’t know much about black people, do ya?” Jeb shrugged. Taking a deep breath and sipping the hot coffee, he leaned against a willow to answer her. “Hoot and I were raised together on a plantation in Georgia. We were slaves from the moment we were born. But our families…well we were separated, and we ain’t seen them since. We’ve looked, scoured the states trying to find them, but never did. So we ain’t got no folks, either. Reckon we are a lot like you.”
“How’d you get separated?” Sarah asked, looking straight at Jeb.
“My mama was sold to a big, fancy household on the Mississippi River. She was a fantastic cook and it ain't surprisin' the word got around. Pa was shot trying to escape just before the war. Got a couple of sisters and brother somewhere, but Lord only knows where. Not even sure we could recognize them now. Hoot was a little luckier, his folks stayed o
n the plantations. His ma died doctoring the white lady of the house, it was yellow fever. His Pa run off, escaped, never saw him again. His brothers escaped and left him behind. We found out they joined the army and was killed during the war.”
Sarah glanced at Hoot. Hoot seemed saddened by the telling of it, but no tears ran down his cheek, he just looked sorta lost for a moment.
“I’m sorry for your losses." Sarah whispered. "Truly. You know once, when I was married to my white husband, I was so dumb. I had no understanding of people at all back then. Then the Indians came…and I began to learn what it was like for others. They were forced off the land they loved, the land they worked. Being killed, having their families killed by ruthless white people who never gave them a thought as to being people. I began to see them for what they were, hard working people, and good people, if left alone.” Sarah sighed.
She looked about her and smiled. Jeb felt a sensation of sunshine coming into his chest at the sight of that smile.
“Texas is a big place, there’s room for us all here. So why can’t we all live in peace?” she asked.
“It ain’t just Texas.” Hoot said quietly.
“No…you’re probably right about that.” Sarah smiled again.
“This is liable to be the last creek we pass for a while, so if you want to wash up, you can, then we’ll take a turn at it,” Hoot advised.
“Oh, that sounds heavenly…” Sarah smiled at him. “Would you mind keeping an eye on the baby?" she asked Hoot.
Hoot nodded.
"I’ll just be a little while then,” she said and headed in the direction Hoot showed her.
Jeb stared after her a long while.
“Ain’t none of my business Jeb, but I seen you eyein’ that gal. You think that’s smart?” Hoot asked,before Sarah was long out of sight.
“It isn’t smart and I won’t act on it, but I can’t change my heart, Hoot. I've never met anyone like her in my life, Hoot. Her heart just ain’t all white, that’s all. I feel it. But God knows I’d never act on my feelin’s…unless…”
“Unless she felt the same…” Hoot nearly smiled. “This is gonna be hard enough without that happenin’. You would never want to put her in a position to have to choose. She's had enough of that already.”
“I know that, and I won’t dare act upon it, unless…no, I won’t act on it,” Jeb assured him.
“Ain’t my business if you got feelings for her. I reckon I can understand it. She kinda got to me too. But you know it won’t work…” Hoot advised.
Jeb turned on Hoot with a vengeance. “Why couldn’t it work, Hoot? If it’s God given? There has to be a reason God put her in our path. If I love her…”
“Love…? Are you crazy, lovin’ a white woman?” Hoot frowned.
“She ain’t exactly like no other white woman we knowed," Jeb said, staring after the direction Sarah went. "It's a mixture of all colors, you seen it too, don’t' tell me you hadn't. You like her…maybe not like me…but you like her."
“You are right about that," Hoot cast his friend a smile. "She ain’t. But don’t you reckon she’s been through enough hard times. I’m thinkin’ if you really love her—you’d have to let her go—for her sake…” Hoot amended.
Jeb frowned, whirled about as his fist came down to his side, “You’re right my friend. I won’t act on it.”
“Now you are talkin’ sense…” Hoot patted him on the shoulder. “Unless God deems it, right….that is.”
Jeb looked at Hoot then a slow smile broke over his face. “Unless God deems it…”
* * * * *
Sarah came back form the creek, refreshed and scrubbed. She handed the lye soap to Hoot and smiled. “Your turn…”
Jeb looked down at the baby, “Hey, he needs a bath too, mind if we take him with us?” Jeb asked.
Sarah glanced down at her son who played in the dirt, “You’re right, he needs a bath too, so go ahead and take him. If you're a mind to.”
Jeb nodded and scooped the baby into his arms. He jostled him in the air and the boy giggled.
Sarah was shocked that her son took to Jeb so easily, but pleased too. She smiled as she watched the three of them head to the creek.
She was even more shocked when a few minutes later a stranger rode into their camp, a white man. The first white man she’d seen in at least a year. Tension made her wary.
He stared down at her with a huge frown.
“Mornin’,” she said, praying Jeb and Hoot wouldn’t come up from the creek yet.
“Mornin.’ What’s a woman doin’ in these parts alone?” the man asked as though he had every right to.
“I’m not alone…”
“Oh, who else is there? I don’t see nobody.” He glanced about curiously, but never dismounted his horse.
“My man’s down at the creek…” Sarah said almost breathlessly, feeling a sense of panic welling in the pit of her stomach. Her man, where had she come up with that?
Seeing the cradle by the wheel she moved in front of it, and managed to scoot it away so the man couldn’t see it. She realized she was hiding herself, but she knew it was for the best. No use bringing on troubles.
“Who might you be, sir?”
“The name's Tate, Raif Tate. Got a wagon train we’re movin’ through to California, about three miles back. I’m scouting ahead for trouble. I guess you wouldn’t be trouble, now would you.”
“No, sir, no trouble at all…”
“Okay, if you're wise you’ll be getting’ out of here, there was a Comanche raid about fifty miles north of here the other day and that’s why I’m scouting so far off. You run into trouble, tell your man we are three miles back…all right?”
“Sure…and thanks…” Sarah called as the man glanced around once more and rode off.
Sweat trickled down her back. Why had she been so scared? Then she realized, she was scared for Hoot and Jeb. If that man had seen they were black he might have strung them up at the nearest tree and took off with her himself. Thinking on it, she began to realize why Jeb and Hoot were so concerned.
She had to get over this fear. She’d lived with fear for nearly two solid years when the Indians first captured her. But she’d learned to stifle it and go on. Now it was back with a vengeance and she wasn’t sure how to handle it. She feared for her son’s life, and for the life of the two men who had rescued her. She feared facing her sister with her son, but one way or another she had to do it.
She ran into Jeb’s arms when he came up to camp, and Jeb held her with both trepidation and care, careful not to show his true feelings for her.
His eyes straying to Hoot with question.
Hoot lowered the baby to the ground and she turned to both of them to tell them what had happened.
Her voice shook as she spoke.
Jeb nodded, “Its okay Sarah. These things happen. He didn’t see nothing and he won’t. We’ll stay out of his way.” When Sarah didn’t understand his calm, Jeb explained. “Don’t you see, it’s God’s way of lettin’ us know to stay clear? And that’s what we’ll do, stay clear.”
Jeb smiled, Hoot smiled, and then Sarah smiled.
“God’s way…” she whispered and picked her son up to hug him to her. He laughed, a glorious sound to Sarah.
Chapter Four
Each day’s travel, Sarah began to feel more comfortable with Hoot and Jeb. They shied away from all the towns and communities. They kept to the wide-open spaces of country.
She felt herself relaxing for the first time in a long time. The only thing troubling her was how her family would feel about her walking back into their lives. And the fact she would eventually have to say goodbye to these two men who had helped her so much. They had helped in so many ways, slowly bringing her back into a world she had once known.
When Hoot picked her some berries one afternoon, Sarah was so happy she kissed his cheek. Tension seemed to electrify the moment until Hoot chuckled and walked off, but she didn’t feel quite as friendly with J
eb. She knew in her heart why, and she couldn’t voice that either.
If Jeb noticed, he said nothing.
Around the campfire one night, Sarah asked, “How’d you get a name like Hoot?”
Hoot smiled real big. “Well…that fella over there, he’s the one that give me that name.”
Jeb nodded.
“You see when we was living at the big house, sometimes we’d get our chores done and sneak off and go fishin’. That one, he give me the name Hoot, cause every time I wanted to let him know I was free to go, I’d hoot like an old barn owl. So he started callin’ me Hoot. Pretty soon everybody around there called me Hoot. It just sorta stuck.”
“What’s your real name?”
“Henry Tyler Dibbs.”
“That’s a good name…” Sarah smiled. “But I like Hoot, it fits.”
After a long silence, Sarah gave the baby a mud ball to play with and looked at them both.
“Did the white people at the plantation treat you well?” Sarah asked innocently.
Hoot nodded, “As well as they could. If we didn’t do our work, we paid the price, but as long as we got things done, there was no trouble. There was always some that fought the system. But we learned early on, it just didn't pay.”
“I’m glad… We never had slaves, my folks didn’t believe in it.”
“We had it better than some...except when Jeb’s mother was sold, that hurt. He stood there watchin'. His mother was cryin' for her baby boy. Tears streamed down her eyes like a flood. Every woman there cried for her. So I sorta took Jeb into my family.”
“At least he had you…” Sarah smiled.
The baby seemed to be getting used to them too. He smiled at them and wanted Jeb or Hoot to carry him when he wasn’t in his cradle.
It was early one morning, before Hoot woke up, that Sarah saw Jeb shaving and marveled at him. It wasn’t the shaving that startled her—it was because he wasn’t shaving his face but his head. She’d never known a man to shave his head and it was a curious thing to watch.