by Diane Ashley
One of the men who had been standing in front of Asher grabbed his wife and escorted her back to their wagon. Another was pulled away by his wife and into the church. A third man spat at the ground and rubbed a suggestive thumb on his holster.
Asher wondered what he should do. Ignore the Taylors? But that was why he had made the trip out here. He wanted to patch things up between him and Rebekah. Now that a few days had passed, surely she had begun to see reason.
He stepped forward. “Mr. and Mrs. Taylor. It’s nice to see you this fine Sabbath day.”
“Hello, Asher.” The older man did not smile, and Asher wondered if Rebekah had mentioned their argument.
Mrs. Taylor, however, smiled broadly at him and put her hand on his arm. “What a lovely surprise. Rebekah did not tell us you might visit today. I hope you will stay for dinner. We are having our new neighbors over, also.”
Asher assumed a pleasant expression as she introduced Wohali and Noya. The man’s posture reminded him of a large cat, sleek and dangerous, a formidable adversary. He inclined his head in a slight nod. “How did you come to meet the Taylors?”
“They are our neighbors.” The dark-skinned man nodded at Mr. Taylor. “We work well together. What one man cannot accomplish, two often can.”
Asher could not argue that logic. “I’m sure Mr. Taylor and his family are happy to have you living so close by.”
Wohali described the work he and Rebekah’s pa had accomplished over the past season. Asher was impressed. Not only was the Indian articulate, he was obviously a hard worker and interested in making a comfortable home for his family. Just like Asher wanted to do. With Rebekah. For a moment he felt the pull to move back out here and farm. But what was he thinking? He was much better suited to work in Nashville.
He followed the Taylors into the little church, his mind in a whirl. It was hard to pay attention to the pastor’s sermon about Jesus’ warning to store treasures in heaven.
The church felt warm, and Asher found himself sliding down in the pew. He cleared his throat and pulled himself upright. It would not do for these people to see him sleeping in a public place, especially in a church. He was going to have to learn better discipline if he was going to keep his position with General Jackson.
He tried to catch Rebekah’s attention, but she was totally engrossed in the sermon, following along in her Bible and nodding as the pastor described the pitfalls of focusing on wealth and position. Asher didn’t see why good Christians couldn’t have those things. The Bible didn’t say that one had to be poor and miserable to make it into heaven.
Finally, the service ended. Everyone stood and sang an invitational hymn.
Asher half expected the Indian couple to approach the pulpit, but they didn’t. In fact, the whole morning seemed to have been wasted.
Somehow he ended up escorting Eleanor out to the front of the church instead of Rebekah. She let go of his arm the minute they stepped outside, dashing off to say hello to some of the other young people from the area.
He looked around and caught sight of Rebekah standing near her pa’s wagon. He hurried over and offered her a hand, relieved when she accepted it. “It’s good to see you looking so well, Rebekah. I don’t have much time—I have to be back in Nashville this afternoon for a meeting—but I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about our. . .discussion. . .the other night.” He also wanted to tell her how much he missed her, but they only had a few seconds before the older adults would reach the wagon. “Please forgive me.”
“Of course I forgive you, Asher.” She said the words he wanted to hear, but Asher could see from her expression that something was still wrong. He wanted to say something more, but there wasn’t enough time. Her parents had nearly reached the wagon.
He made his excuses to the Taylors and climbed back on his horse, wondering if he had accomplished anything by coming all this way.
❧
Rebekah ignored the teasing of her younger sister on the way home. Eleanor simply didn’t understand the situation. She was full of romantic notions, exactly as Rebekah had been at her age.
Whether she should marry Asher was a matter of faith, not romance. If she and Asher were going to repair their relationship, they would have to spend more than a few seconds talking about their problems. She could not withhold forgiveness—the Lord’s Prayer said Christians should forgive others if they wanted to be forgiven for their own transgressions. But forgiveness was one thing. Deciding what to do about marriage was another thing entirely.
Rebekah could tell that Asher had not changed much, if at all, since she’d come home. He apparently thought that an apology was sufficient to bridge the distance between them. She knew better.
Somehow she felt older than Asher now, more mature. While he was still chasing ephemeral dreams of wealth and fame, she had come to realize what was important in life. A sigh filled her, and Rebekah’s heart ached for Asher to return to the Lord. All she could do was continue to pray that he would allow God to change his heart.
They dropped Wohali and Noya off at their home and continued to the cabin.
“You seem awfully quiet for a beautiful Sunday morning.” Ma patted her knee. “Did you and Asher have time to talk?”
Rebekah shook her head.
Pa pulled up to let everyone off at the front door to the cabin. “Perhaps we can remedy that. Wohali mentioned that he and Noya need to get some things in Nashville, and I was thinking of going along with him. You can join us, Rebekah. I’m sure Noya would appreciate some feminine company.”
“But shouldn’t we all go?” Rebekah asked.
Ma laughed. “Didn’t you notice how crowded it was with all of us in the wagon? I think I can wait until another time. And I have the feeling you need to work out some problems.” She put an arm around Rebekah and squeezed her tightly. “Hiding out here with your family is no way to resolve whatever it is that stands between you and Asher.”
While Rebekah agreed with her mother, she wasn’t sure if anything could bridge the widening rift between her and the man she had once shared future dreams with.
Thirteen
Asher hated the waiting that seemed to go along with his new position as special liaison for Colonel Lewis. For nearly two weeks, he’d been expecting a directive from General Jackson. He’d been thrilled to finally receive a note from Colonel Lewis instructing him to attend a meeting in his home.
He pulled out his watch and glanced at it. He’d been alone in the colonel’s study for nearly an hour. What could be keeping the man? His bored gaze again traveled around the handsomely appointed room. The luxurious furnishings testified to the importance of the Lewis family—deeply padded leather armchairs, a huge mahogany desk, and heavy drapes the color of a dark forest. One wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, partially filled with leather-clad books.
He’d spent at least fifteen minutes looking at the pristine volumes. The colonel took great care when he was perusing his books, just as he did with everything he was involved with—obviously one of the many reasons he had all the right connections.
A clock in the hallway chimed two more quarter hours. Asher was beginning to wonder if his host would ever appear when the door finally opened.
The colonel trundled across the room and gave him a perfunctory handshake. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“I was wondering if I had the wrong time. . . .”
“Oh, no, no. I was up late last night escorting my ladies to the Purnell ball. They have to go to all of the parties, you know.”
Asher noticed the man did look tired. His coat was creased and dusty. His mustache, usually waxed and shaped into an upward curve, had drooped until it brushed his chin.
“And then it was up early again for an emergency meeting with General Jackson,” the colonel continued. “I barely had time to get a note to you before I had to go right back out for yet another conference—this time with the local politicos. These Indians. . .I don’t know what the general’s going t
o do about them. I’ve been encouraging him to go forth with his removal plans even if those idiots in Washington haven’t given him their blessing. What are they going to do to the Hero of New Orleans?”
Asher didn’t know how he felt about the issue of Indian removal. While it seemed heartless to force them to leave their homes, it was equally obvious the quarrelsome Indians would never peacefully accept the land-hungry white settlers who arrived every week. However, he knew what response the colonel expected to hear. “Probably give him another medal when they realize he’s single-handedly solved all of their problems.”
The colonel slapped his back. “Exactly. Have a seat, boy.” He walked to the far side of the polished mahogany desk in the center of the study.
Asher hesitated for a moment before taking one of the armchairs in front of the desk.
“I invited you here to ask for your help with a rather—”
The door swung open with a loud thump, and Alexandra hurried inside, her attention on the wall of books to Asher’s right.
Asher jumped up and bowed to her. “Good afternoon, Miss Lewis.”
“Captain Landon, what a pleasure.” An eager smile lit her face.
Her father rose more slowly. “I’m holding an important meeting.”
“Excuse me, Papa. I didn’t realize you and Captain Landon were here.”
Her smile should not have suggested duplicity, but Asher wondered if she was as unaware of his presence as she claimed. He could not help being a little flattered that she would risk her father’s censure for a chance to see him. If only Rebekah was as anxious to spend time with him.
“I am so sorry to disturb you. I promised Mama that I would find the collection of William Shakespeare’s sonnets.”
Asher stepped toward her. “Perhaps I can help you find the volume you need.”
Colonel Lewis sighed. “I guess we can postpone our meeting for a while, daughter. After the amount of time I’ve had this young man waiting, I imagine he could use some refreshment”—he winked at Asher—“and some refreshing company, too, eh?”
While Asher and Alexandra looked for the elusive volume, the colonel rang for refreshments. After a few minutes, a tall, slender slave brought in a silver tea service and quietly disappeared.
Alexandra took the seat next to Asher’s and poured for the gentlemen, prattling on about how different things were out in the frontier than what she had seen in New Orleans. As she talked, she waved a lacy fan in front of her face. It was warm enough that Asher wished she would waft a breeze in his direction.
A noise from the far side of the desk turned his attention to the colonel.
After lowering his hand from attempting to cover his yawn, Colonel Lewis apologized. “Please forgive me. I guess the long working hours are catching up with me.”
Alexandra put the tip of her fan against her bottom lip. “Staying out so late hasn’t helped either, Papa. I woke up sometime during the night as I was a bit warm. I got up to open my window and saw you riding up—”
“Well, Captain Landon doesn’t want to hear unimportant details about work. I guess I should just go upstairs and take a nap. Asher, could we finish our business at another time?”
“No problem, sir.” Asher put his napkin on the tea tray and stood. “I shall take my leave.”
“Please don’t.” Alexandra put a hand on his arm. “We can go down to the parlor. There’s something I need to ask you about.”
Asher raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t it be more seemly to remain here?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She slid her hand under his elbow and pulled him into the hall. “No one will think a thing of it. You’re like the big brother I always wanted. I truly value your opinion.”
Asher allowed her to pull him to the parlor but stopped her from closing the door. It would be disastrous for them to be found closeted alone. Both their reputations would be in shambles.
“I saw Rebekah in Nashville yesterday.”
Her words wiped out other considerations. If Rebekah was back in Nashville, it could only mean one thing—she was over their tiff. “I thought she would be back soon.”
Alexandra’s eyes narrowed. “And did you know she was in the company of an Indian couple?”
Surprise stiffened his back. But then the explanation dawned on him. They must be her Indian neighbors. Probably her whole family had come to Nashville, and she had agreed to escort the couple around since she would be the most familiar with Nashville. What a thoughtful deed. But he would have to remember to tell her to be careful. Not everyone would be so generous toward Indians, regardless of their aspirations.
“I didn’t know what to say. Mama and Papa do not like the uppity ways of some of the local Cherokees. They say that by befriending them we are only asking for trouble. The Indians are wild heathens with no idea in their heads but to stop us in any way they can.”
Asher had to agree with that sentiment. The Indians he’d seen while serving under General Jackson had been bloodthirsty and dangerous. Of course, the same could be said of some of the soldiers. But the couple he’d met a few days ago at the Taylors’ farm had seemed different. They had been well-spoken and appeared to be hardworking individuals who wanted to be regular American citizens.
“I’m worried about Rebekah, Asher. She is so naive and trusting. She hasn’t had the same advantages to help her properly judge people. But you and I both know the Indians would like nothing better than to wipe out all traces of white settlements. Trying to force people here to accept the Indians will make her many enemies.”
Asher looked down into her earnest face. It was sweet of Alexandra to be concerned about Rebekah’s welfare, but she had misinterpreted the situation. This was not New Orleans. He often saw Indian families doing business with local merchants. “I hardly think taking a stroll with her neighbors would have such disastrous consequences.”
“I’m worried about you, too, Asher. Papa says you have a brilliant career ahead of you, but your association with Rebekah could bring everything crashing down.”
Now she was being downright foolish. Women had such a tendency to overdramatize. “I think you are making much ado over a very minor incident and drawing conclusions when you do not understand all the circumstances.”
Alexandra turned her back to him and stared out of the window. “Please don’t be angry with me. I have only your best interests at heart.”
When Asher realized that her shoulders were hunched forward, he felt like a villain. She was as young and as easily misled as Rebekah, but her heart was in the right place. “Don’t worry, Alexandra. I’m not angry. But I do think you’re assigning too much import to one instance.”
“I pray you’re right.” Alexandra turned back toward him, her eyes large with unshed tears. “I only want to see you succeed.”
As Alexandra looked up at him with such sincerity, Asher couldn’t keep from wondering if Rebekah wanted success for him as well. Maybe it was time he found out.
❧
Fearing that his frown was tensing the muscles between his eyebrows, Asher consciously forced a smile on his face as he looked around at the small group in Dolly Quinn’s parlor.
Rebekah perched on the edge of the settee, one foot tapping a staccato rhythm beneath the folds of her skirt. Mrs. Quinn looked much more relaxed on the other end of the settee, sipping tea and nibbling at a strawberry scone. Rebekah’s father stood with his back to the fireplace as he described yesterday’s visit to the local smithy with his Indian friend, Wohali.
Asher nodded and tried to focus his attention on what the man was saying, but all he wanted to do was draw Rebekah away and talk to her. He had to be sure she had really forgiven him, even though he still wasn’t certain what he had done. He wanted to have the right to pull her into his arms and tell her how much he loved her.
Asher kept his smile relaxed. It wouldn’t do to let Rebekah know how hard his heart pounded. Was she ready to resume their plans for a future together? He could not be
ar the thought of her falling in love with someone else. She had to be reasonable and agree to remain in the city, where he could earn enough to support her.
Mr. Taylor ended his story, and silence filled the room. Asher turned his attention once again to the girl he loved. “Rebekah, I hope you will dance with me at the Davis ball on Friday.”
Her cheeks flushed, causing him to wonder if she was embarrassed by his statement or pleased at his attention.
“I’m sorry, but I doubt we’ll still be here.”
“Nonsense.” Rebekah’s aunt frowned and put down her teacup. “Your father knows how much I need you here. If you leave so soon, I will have to conclude that you no longer care for my company.”
Rebekah’s cheeks grew even redder, and Asher wished he had never opened his mouth. He had to rescue her. His mind searched frantically for a new topic. Something that would bring a smile to her face. “Have you heard that General Jackson has been given command of the southern division of the United States Army?”
Rebekah shook her head.
Excitement and pride filled Asher. “He’s finally getting the recognition he deserves. He’s a great man.”
A commotion at the front door interrupted the conversation. Asher was surprised when Pastor Miller came rushing into the parlor.
“You have to leave. Quick!”
“Whatever is the matter, Pastor?” Mrs. Quinn asked. “Is something wrong?”
Asher had not been around the pastor much, but he recognized the man’s perturbation in the way he glanced over his shoulder and wrung his hands together. He didn’t even have the presence of mind to remove his hat.
The pastor shook his head and took a hurried breath. “There’s been another Indian raid! Last night! They stole cattle and horses from the Marshall farm and burned down their cabin. No one can find the family. They’re presumed dead.”
His announcement was greeted with a small cry from Rebekah’s aunt, who fell back against the settee. Rebekah grabbed a small brown bottle sitting on a table next to the settee and uncorked it. She sprinkled a few drops of pungent oil on her handkerchief and waved it below her aunt’s nose.