by Almost Eden
“That’s a good name,” Bodkin said. Then when all heads turned to look at him, he turned a fiery red.
“See there, Mac. You’ve got you a cooper. Now get him a wife and you’ve got MacMillanville’s first businessman.”
Paul watched the glances Eli cast toward Mac’s eldest daughter. When Aee got up abruptly and went into the house, Eli leaned back with his hands behind his head and said no more. Bee followed her sister after a while.
The men drank sparingly; all but Light took a swallow when the jug was passed. They were taking turns patrolling the woods surrounding the cabin. When the moon was straight overhead it was time for Light’s shift. Maggie went with him, holding onto his hand, walking quietly.
Maggie loved to walk in the woods at night with Light. She liked the night sounds; the rustle of the leaves stirred by a pack rat, the hoot of an owl, the cry of a nightbird. Most of all she loved the sound of a wolf howling at the moon or calling to his mate. In the soft darkness she could almost believe that she and Light were the only people in all the world.
They didn’t speak. There was no need for words between them.
When Caleb came to relieve them, they talked quietly with him for a moment, then sought their blankets. Maggie snuggled close to Light, seeking the warmth of his body and the security of his arms.
“Aee an’ I was goin’ t’ take us a bath tomorrow, but now I can’t. I got my woman’s time today. Ma says not t’ get in the water when I’m bleedin’.”
“Why is that?”
“It would stop it an’ I’d be sick.”
“I’ve not heard of that, love. Indian women bathe more at that time than at any other.”
“I’ve not got a babe growin’, Light,” Maggie announced matter-of-factly.
“I realize that. Have you been hoping one was started, ma petite?”
Maggie was thoughtful for a moment before she spoke.
“No. I want us t’ get t’ our mountain first.”
“Would you rather we didn’t mate until then? It’s the only way to be sure.”
“Then I don’t want t’ be sure.” Maggie leaned up, placed her nose next to his and spoke against his lips. “If a babe starts t’ grow, it’ll just have t’ put up with us.”
Light laughed and hugged her. “My jewel, I treasure each day with you.”
“I’m not afraid t’ have the babies, Light.”
“Were you afraid before, mon amour?” He stroked the hair from her face.
“I was . . . dreadin’ it. My aunt used to holler somethin’ awful when she was havin’ her younguns. Mrs. Mac didn’t holler a’tall. She just squatted down, held onto a post an’ in a little while the babe slid out. It was wet an’ bloody . . . an’ ugly lookin’. I didn’t say it was ugly, ’cause Aee kept sayin’ how pretty it was.”
“You’d never before seen a woman give birth?”
“I saw a deer. I rubbed her head while the babe came out.”
“Mon Dieu! She let you?”
“Uh-huh. Animals aren’t scared of me. Ya know that.”
Maggie laid her head on Light’s chest and placed her hand over his heart. She liked to feel it beat. When she heard a sound that resembled a loud crack of thunder, she lifted her head.
Light had heard it too. He turned his head to listen.
“Is is goin’ t’ rain, Light?”
“There are no clouds, chérie.”
A feeling that he could not quite understand drew him to his feet. He looked and he listened. The moon shone, the stars were bright, the night was quiet . . . but somehow eerie.
And to the east the sky was aglow with a rosy light.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Daylight came and the smell of woodsmoke mingled with the aroma of roasting meat. Linus began cooking a hindquarter of the deer before dawn. The other parts of the deer were curing in the smokehouse.
Bodkin’s oven became the center of attention for a while. Aee exclaimed over it. Mrs. MacMillan came from the house to look at it and see how it worked. Beneath an iron grate set on river stones a slow fire of hickory chips burned. The oven was roomy enough to hold both the turkey and the goose. Fat falling from the birds hissed and burned and smoked. Bodkin basked in the women’s praise.
Over the morning coffee the men talked about the loud noise they had heard during the early part of the night.
“There warn’t a cloud in the sky,” MacMillan said. “Maybe there was a storm far off, an’ lightnin’ set the woods afire.”
“If it did, m’sieur, it soon burned itself out.”
“Sounded to me more like something blew up.” When he heard the boom-boom, Eli had thought of the two kegs of gunpowder Kruger had stolen. He was crazy enough and knew enough about explosives to set the charges.
“Might be the German blew one of his kegs of gunpowder.”
“Otto wouldn’t waste the powder unless he had a good reason. It would take more than one keg to make a noise like that.” It was clear to Eli that MacMillan didn’t know much about explosives.
“The German left the gunpowder on Vega’s boat, isn’t that right, Noah?” Bodkin squatted by the oven making hickory chips with a hatchet.
“They was sittin’ by the cannon when I left. Vega had three more kegs he kept locked up,” Dixon said shyly. He wasn’t comfortable enough with these men yet to venture all opinion, and when the girls were around he was more tongue-tied than ever.
“What do you think, Light?” Paul asked.
Light shrugged. Whatever had happened didn’t appear to be a threat to him or Maggie nor to the homestead. Light’s mind was on other things.
* * *
Everyone was ready to celebrate. The weather was perfect, no wind and pleasantly warm as a sweet-smelling fall day can be. The men carried the long trestle table from the house to the yard to hold the food. Afterward they shaved and combed their hair, and those who had them put on clean shirts.
The women changed into their best dresses after the food had been prepared to Mrs. Mac’s satisfaction. The MacMillan girls wore the same dresses they had worn the day Light and Maggie came to dinner, blue linsey with white collars. Aee brought out a dress for Maggie that eleven-year-old Cee had outgrown. It had been put away for Dee to grow into. It was like the others except that the color was a deeper blue and was faded from many washings. For this very special occasion, each of the girls wore a blue ribbon in her hair.
Maggie had never had the companionship of women near her own age. She laughed and giggled with them over the tangles in Dee’s hair and the fact that Cee at eleven years was as tall as Maggie. At Cee’s age it was all right for her ankles to show, but when she reached Bee’s age it would no longer be proper.
Aee didn’t think she had ever seen anyone as pretty as Maggie. She could not yet understand why Maggie was so oblivious to the Swede’s interest in her. Aee brushed Maggie’s hair until it was a mass of shimmering ringlets, then slipped the ribbon under her hair at the back of her neck, brought it up behind her ears and tied the bow at the top of her head. When Maggie saw her reflection in the mirror, her delight was with the ribbon.
“Take yore hair out of the braids, Aee. Fix yore ribbon like mine.”
“Ma says that in town grown women don’t let their hair hang down,” Aee said, forgetting she had never seen Maggie’s done up.
Maggie looked stricken. “I do. I’m a grown woman—”
“Of course, Maggie. But yo’re different.”
“How am I different? I don’t want t’ be different.”
“Well . . . I mean that yo’re so . . . pretty.”
“Ya are too. I don’t want to be prettier’n ya are,” Maggie said in a small sad voice.
“A’right. Bee, let’s let our hair hang down too.”
“What’ll Ma say?”
“I don’t think she’ll mind . . . this one time.”
When the girls came out of the room and lined up for inspection, Maggie stood beside Aee. Mrs. MacMillan looked at each one
carefully, then smiled.
“My, my, my. I don’t know when I’ve seen prettier girls. Cee’s dress fits you perfectly, Maggie.”
“I had a dress like this a long time ago when we lived in Kaintuck. A lady there showed me how to do this.” She spread the skirt with her hands and bent her knees in a quick bow.
“That’s very nice.”
“Let’s go show Light and Eli and Paul.” Maggie took Eee’s small hand in hers and pulled her toward the door.
That damn Swede’s eyes will pop right out when he sees her! The thought leaped into Aee’s mind as she heard the sound of galloping horses come into the yard.
Neither MacMillan nor his wife had been able to persuade their Osage friends to leave their ponies in the corral behind the barn. Owning a horse was an indication of a man’s importance. They wanted to show off for the white men. Many Spots and his warriors left their horses beside the door of the cabin.
“We come to eat.”
“You are always welcome.”
“We hear big noise. Zee make big magic for Mac’s son.”
MacMillan scratched his chin to hide his smile when he looked down at Zee.
“My son is fortunate that Zee is our friend.”
“He will need much magic to grow strong,” Zee said solemnly, his unblinking eye on Many Spots.
Light’s dark, serious eyes went from the little man to the homesteader. The two of them knew better than to scoff at the beliefs of the Osage. Light was aware that he was a long way removed from his mother’s people. His father, Pierre Baptiste, had loved his mother fiercely and he, like MacMillan, had been tolerant of her people’s primitive beliefs.
When Light was born, his mother had told him, he was so small that he could be held in one of his father’s hands. His grandmother had been alarmed that he had such a light body and worried that he might not live. She had placed the after-birth in a bag and hung it in the branches of an oak tree to ensure that the frail babe would grow strong. The infant thrived. His mother had named him Baptiste Lightbody.
It was a good name for a man, Light thought now. His father had lived to see his son grow into a man and had taken pride in him even though they were vastly different. Pierre Baptiste had been a big, burly man with a golden beard; his son was slim and dark.
Light’s wandering thoughts came back to the present when MacMillan, speaking in Osage, asked Many Spots and his warriors to tie their ponies to the trees at the edge of the woods because Mrs. Mac was going to bring the newborn to the table and the horses drew flies.
Very diplomatic, Light thought. MacMillan was a good man. He liked the way he treated the Negroes and the little deformed Zee. MacMillan respected the Osage and they him.
If not for his burning desire to live on his mountain, Light thought now, he would be tempted to find a place a few miles from here and build his home. But, no. Using the river as a road to the west, people would soon fill the country and he would become restless as he had back in St. Charles.
Maggie and the girls came out of the cabin, each carrying a dish to the table. Maggie set hers down and hurried to Light. She grabbed her skirt in her two hands and curtsied as she had for Mrs. MacMillan. A happy smile covered her beautiful face.
“Ma petite! You are magnificent!” Light’s eyes were alight with love. He had never seen her with a ribbon in her hair or in a dress with a white collar. She was lovely, but to him she was never more beautiful than when she was striding along beside him in the woods wearing her buckskin britches with her bow and whip on her shoulders.
“See my ribbon.” She whirled around with a happy laugh. “Look at Aee, Light. Ain’t she pretty?” Maggie grasped Aee’s hand and pulled her to where Light stood with his back to the cabin wall.
Aee’s face turned a rosy red and she tried to pull her hand away. The Swede had stopped talking—for once—and was leering at Maggie.
“Mademoiselle.” Light made a courtly bow, and Maggie giggled.
“Bee,” she called. “Come show Light.”
Bee acted as if she hadn’t heard Maggie call and hurried into the house.
Watching, Eli wondered once again at Maggie’s naiveté. It was so rare for a woman to be so beautiful, rarer yet for one to be so open and honest. The women he had known, including Orah Delle Carroll, Sloan’s daughter, kept their feelings carefully concealed. Such open pleasure as Maggie was exhibiting would be unthinkable among women who had been tutored to behave in ways considered proper.
Eli’s eyes rested on Aee. It pleased him that she knew he was looking at her and was bothered by it. She stood a head taller than Maggie yet her body was slender and strong as a willow switch. She was plainly uncomfortable, but she had not scurried away as her sister had done. Her eyes had passed over him as if he weren’t there.
Since she had hit him with her hat, Aee had completely ignored him except for the one scathing remark she had made after her brother was born. Eli chuckled. She was a woman who would be able to take care of herself in most situations and would stand shoulder to shoulder with her man. She was also a mouthy, opinionated brat. But with her hair hanging in heavy brown waves down to her waist, she was a mighty pretty one.
Maggie left Light’s side and went to the Indian ponies. Alarmed, Eli stood. He darted a glance at Light, thinking the man would surely go to her, but Light was calmly watching her rub the noses and wnisper in the ears of the half-wild ponies. She patted the sides of their heads, her nose next to their noses. The braves squatting beside the cabin wall watched and muttered to each other.
“What the hell!” Eli started to cross the yard toward her. Light stepped into his path.
“Leave her be.”
“For crissake! They’d take half her face with one bite!”
“Leave her be!” Light commanded in a low, icy voice.
“I . . . don’t understand you!”
Light looked at him then. His black eyes were hard.
“No, you don’t understand me . . . or my wife. Keep your distance.”
The two men glared at each other, then Light felt a small hand in his and looked down at Maggie. She had not heard the words that passed between them. She was smiling.
Squatting on his heels beside Zee’s chair, Paul watched the exchange between Eli and Light and held his breath. It was important that his friend’s interest be directed away from Maggie Lightbody, or her husband would kill him.
MacMillan’s oldest daughter Aee was pretty—in a way different from Maggie and far more suitable for Eli. Mac had figured it right when he said they struck sparks off each other. It was a heck of a lot better that they go head-to-head than be indifferent. The idea Paul had been mulling over in his mind began to take form.
* * *
The table looked as if it were set for a Thanksgiving feast. The women stood by while the men heaped their plates and retired to the woodpile to sit on stumps and eat. Aee made up a plate for Zee. MacMillan carried Zee, chair and all, to where the men were eating. Many Spots and his braves, not at all bashful about helping themselves, took large helpings of meat, but little else. Aee and Bee filled plates for the younger girls and then for their mother, who sat at the end of the table with Frank in her lap.
Caleb and Linus were hanging back pretending to cut meat from the haunch over the fire.
“Caleb, what’er ya and Linus lollygaggin’ around for? Ya’ll not get any a that goose if ya don’t come on. My goodness, ya know better’n to hold back when the Osage are here. They’ll clean this table down to the boards in no time a’tall.”
“Yass’m, Missy Aee. We comin’.” Caleb pushed Linus ahead of him and they came to the table.
“Take plenty, but save room for the pumpkin cake.”
Aee went to the fire to pour tea into a mug from a large pot.
Linton Bodkin set his plate down and hurried to her.
“Ma’am, can I hep ya do that?”
“Thank ya, Mr. Bodkin. If ya take this t’ Zee”—she looked directly at Eli—“
ever’body else can wait on themselves.”
Plates were filled and filled again. Aee cut the pumpkin and suet cake and covered the remaining food with a cloth to protect it from the flies.
To Maggie’s delight, MacMillan went into the cabin and came out with a fiddle. He tucked it beneath his chin and played a merry tune.
“A’right, girls. Show ’em how ya can dance.”
“Ah . . . Pa—” Bee protested, but Cee took her hand and pulled her into the yard. The two youngest MacMillans joined hands, and when the music started, they galloped around the yard. Bee and Cee began to dance, their full skirts swishing about their ankles, long dark hair swaying on their backs.
Zee clapped his hands in time with the music. First Bodkin, then Paul, Eli and Dixon joined. Maggie stood and clapped with the others.
When MacMillan finished the tune, he beamed at his daughters.
“Ain’t they the beatin’est? Been dancin’ since they could walk. Come dance with ’em.”
Bodkin reached for Cee. “I got a sister back home ’bout yore age.”
Dixon stepped shyly toward Bee. She took his hand, but didn’t look at him.
“Want t’ dance?” Four-year-old Eee asked Paul.
Paul made a courtly bow. “Mademoiselle, I would be honored.”
“Ya get t’ dance with me, Mr. Nielson.” Dee gave Eli a smile that showed two missing front teeth.
“I was just about to ask.”
MacMillan began to fiddle. The song was “Yankee Doodle.” As the couples whirled around the yard, Maggie stood beside Light, clapping her hands. Light knew she wanted to dance, but he couldn’t bring himself to take her hand and join the others. He had never danced, never wanted to, and would feel foolish doing so. But he wanted Maggie to enjoy herself.
“Dance with Paul, chérie,” Light said when the music ended and the couples changed partners.
“Ya ain’t carin’ if I dance?”
“No, my pet.”
Light stood by quietly while Maggie danced with Paul. To him her laughter was sweeter than the sound of the fiddle. Her head was thrown back, her mouth open as she gasped for breath. He loved her so much that he was tempted to reach out and snatch her back to him.