"See you tonight," he said as their lips broke apart.
The women all gave her smug looks as she came out the door.
"Yes, most definitely, the honeymoon stage," Ruby said as they walked up the roadway. Since they lived aways out, the walk would not be short as they laughed and giggled heading into town. Though Quinlan missed the girls at the orphanage she grew up with, these ladies were quickly becoming her friends.
On the edge of Zenith, the women linked arms with Annabelle on the end carrying Charlotte as they walked down the middle of Main Street. Meg's husband, Zach, the sheriff, came out of his office and stared at his wife.
"Meg Gillespie, what are you doing?"
"Making a statement, honey. What are you doing?"
"Watching my bullheaded wife," he said.
"You adore me," Meg said with a smirk.
"Absolutely, I do, but you're eight months pregnant."
"So? You don't think this doesn't affect this baby?"
Quinlan didn't know whether to laugh, giggle, or try to keep her emotions from spewing out of her mouth. The married couple's semi arguing in public was kind of hilarious.
The sheriff came over to his wife's side. "There probably is no way you would stop this foolishness for the sake of the baby."
"Nope, the baby is fine. She's having a good time."
"Aargh, Meg Gillespie...what can I do to help?"
"Walk with us," she said. "All we're doing is letting the town see we're backing Quinlan as the new teacher who just wants to teach."
As Zach joined the women on the other end of the line, Quinlan smiled. "Thanks, Sheriff. I hope this doesn't cause you any trouble."
With a laugh, he replied, "This is the least of my concerns. People should take a look at the men on my wanted posters. Those are the ones they should be concerned about, not a young boy." Leaning over to Quinlan, he said, "And my wife, who likes to drive me crazy."
"Don't think I can't hear you," Meg said, giving her husband a look.
As they walked through town, people in shops came out and watched. Some cheered, some booed and one man spat in the street near Quinlan. Was this the reception the people of Zenith would give a newcomer? For teaching an Indian child? What had she done that was so wrong?
When they reached the school, the chief sat on his horse staring down at the building. The women didn't say anything as they stared up at him. Quinlan decided to be brave.
"He's watching over us to make certain no one harms his son or any of the children. That no one hurts me."
The sheriff frowned. "Things have gotten tense, if he's here every day."
She waved to the man Will had told her was watching over her and the children. He returned her wave and that's when the idea came to her. Maybe it would work and maybe it wouldn't. The thought was worth trying.
"Ladies, I think I might have a solution."
Will stood at the back of the classroom, watching his wife and the adults in attendance. Quinlan asked him to be there in case of trouble, but she hoped the children could show their parents they were all one and the same.
From the looks of the crowded building, every parent and school board member were in attendance.
"Thanks, everyone, for coming. For the past week, the children have worked on their stories and we thought this would be a great way for the kids to share something about their backgrounds. The students chose the best three tales and those will be read out loud. These are the children's family histories and how they came to Zenith. We hope you enjoy them."
"First up is Jennie Brown," his wife said.
The little girl whose mother said they would take her out of school stood. The child began to read her family’s journey from Ireland to New York while Will watched the adults’ reactions to her words.
She spoke of the famine that had driven her grandparents to leave their native land and how they had been mistreated in New York. How her father became a banker and then they bought the bank here in Zenith.
His wife was a genius.
"Next up is John Smith with his family's story."
As the boy read about his family, Will watched the other guests. Some were pleased, some indifferent, but the ones that had been angry subtly understood the message. All were immigrants, blessed to be on this land. The child finished his story, glanced over at Pecos and smiled. Even the children realized they weren't the original settlers.
"Last we have Pecos. This child's story is a complex tale of cultures."
A rumbling of whispers began in the crowd as the parents grasped this was the boy everyone was upset about attending the class. The door opened and in walked the boy’s father. Isatai nodded to the parents, but didn't say a word, as he moved to stand in the back with his arms crossed, his feet firmly planted.
"My mother's family came from across the ocean from a place called London, where her grandparents worked as house servants. Wanting a better life for their children, they purchased passage on a ship that traveled to America. In New York, they found jobs, but still this was not the life they dreamed of. So they signed up to travel to Texas where they could homestead.
“On the journey here, my mother was born and then later, my aunt and uncle. My grandfather loved horses and soon he traded horses to everyone including the Indians. At the age of eighteen, my mother was out riding when she stepped on a rattlesnake. A young Indian brave saved her life by lancing the bite and putting herbs on the wound. Then he took her home to her father.
“My mother told me the proud brave was very handsome. Soon he started visiting her and my father said my mother's arrow pierced his heart. Though they came from different cultures they fell deeply in love.
“My father asked for mother's hand in marriage, but my grandfather said no and threatened to send her back east to family. Afraid of being separated, they ran off and united in an Indian ceremony.
“Living with my father's people, my mother began to learn the ways of the Comanche. At first, it was a hard life, but she loved my father and they were happy. A year after their joining, my mother gave birth to me. My father said they were so excited to start their family.
“Right after I turned six, my mother took ill. My father gave her Indian herbs and they didn't heal her. So then he took her home to her father and a doctor tried to cure her. But the sickness spread and soon she died.
“At the time of her death, my father was devastated and I felt lost. My aunt convinced my father that I needed to learn the ways of his people, but also my mother’s. Not only to honor her memory, but to help me in this world. The way of life for the Indians is changing. While my father does not want me to forget my heritage, he wants me to know how to live in these challenging times."
The kid looked up and stared at the parents. "You may call me a half breed, but I'm a boy just like your sons trying to grasp what I need to know for when I become an adult."
Silence filled the room. Not a sound came from the adults, and for a moment, Will feared his wife's experiment had failed.
Suddenly Charlotte, Annabelle's tiny daughter stood and ran to the boy and threw her arms around him. "I'm sorry your mama died."
Several of the women wiped away tears at the sight of the little girl lovingly embracing the motherless child. Even Will teared up at the image of the two children embracing one another. The smallest expressing her heartfelt sadness for the Indian child.
"It's okay. My father and my aunt take care of me," the boy said.
"No one can replace your mama," she said hugging him.
The boy’s story had been moving, but the image of the little girl accepting and offering him comfort had more of an affect than the child's words.
Wiping a tear from her eye, his wife stood. "That concludes our readings about our families and our heritages. I'm so pleased that all of you turned out this afternoon to hear our children. Isn't it wonderful that we live in such a diverse country and have been blessed to come to Texas. There are refreshments in the back provided by Meg Gillespie, Annabell
e Samuels and Ruby Culver. Again, thanks for coming."
Will shook his head. The woman used the children to teach the adults something about life and love and getting along. The parents who had been angry about Pecos being in school didn't cozy up warm and friendly with the boy, but their kids talked to him like old friends.
Pecos's father walked over to Will. "Your woman, she is smart. Her plan may have succeeded with the children, but the adults, I don't know."
"Let's wait and see. Your story is touching," Will said. "We've only been married a month and already I can't imagine Quinlan not being here."
The man sighed and nodded. "Thank you. So young and beautiful and now she's gone. Recently I joined with a sweet squaw. You'll soon meet her."
Many people avoided speaking to the man as he leaned against the back wall of the building watching over his son like the other parents. One by one, the families gathered their children and left the building until finally it was only Will and Quinlan and the school board members.
A man walked up to her. "Pecos may remain in school as long as he does not create any disciplinary problems. If someone complains, direct them to us."
"Thank you, sir," Quinlan said, smiling at Will. "Let's hope the rest of the year goes smoother."
The man laughed. "You're teaching children. There will be no smooth sailing."
After he left, Will walked up to Quinlan and took her in his arms. "When you told me about this crazy idea of yours, I thought it would never work. What a great reminder to all of us of our pasts."
Leaning down, he kissed her and she let him, before she pulled apart. "Take me home. There is this man I'm married to that I want to spend some time with. Maybe he could show me a new dish to prepare tonight."
The woman had no clue what he'd like to do with her this evening and every other evening. An idea began to form in his head, and maybe this weekend, it would all come together.
Chapter 8
The wagon rattled through town and onto the open road. Quinlan sighed with relief. After the week at school, it felt good to be out of the classroom and away from the tension of the last few days. But today she had no idea where they were going. Will loaded down the back with supplies, which made her suspicious.
"When are you going to tell me where we're going?"
"You'll know soon enough," he said as they rolled across a low river crossing. In the fall, the water barely trickled across the road. Though it was September, the green leaves on the trees rustled and she wondered when they would begin to change. At home...no here with this man beside her was now home.
The wagon crested the bank, and she saw the chief sitting on a horse waiting for them. A quick glance at her husband confirmed her suspicions.
"Are we going to his village?"
Will grinned at her and her heart swelled. "Yes, Isatai graciously said we could visit after I told him you studied the tribes and were curious about how they lived."
Laying her hand on Will's arm. "Thank you. Reading about something and actually seeing how they live is so completely different. This makes me so happy."
What had she done to marry such a kind and gentle man? The back of the wagon was loaded, so they didn't arrive empty handed. The image of her father came to mind and a shiver of revulsion scurried up her spine.
As a little girl, her father talked bad about Indians. A course man with a vulgar tongue and her mother would later try to explain to her why he would become upset and reason with her his terrible behavior.
All she knew was she wanted to understand both sides before she passed judgement. Yes, the Indians had done horrible things to white people, but the invaders were stealing their land, killing the buffalo and treating them like savages. Maybe not one side, but both sides had been wrong.
"Good morning," Will called.
"Good morning. Follow me," the Indian said. Today he was dressed in leather pants and wore the traditional headdress. A crown of feathers with beads on a wide band and a small piece of fur on either side. The feathers flowed like a river down his back. Oh how she would’ve liked to have seen how it was made.
They followed the chief strolling through the camp. "Why aren't they on a reservation?"
"The government keeps trying to move them, but so far, they have been able to stay here because of Pecos’s grandfather. Mr. Williams has given them permission to farm here. Pecos will one day inherit this property and the grandfather wants to make certain he receives the land."
"That's why Pecos is in school," Quinlan said, suddenly understanding more of the importance of her pupil's education. Determined more than ever to teach him all she understood, hoping he would seek higher learning.
The vehicle came to a halt and the children ran over to them. Isatai said something in his native language and they all stopped, babbling amongst themselves as they pointed to Quinlan and Will.
"Except for Mr. Joseph, Pecos’s grandfather, we don't have many visitors."
Will helped Quinlan alight and set her on the ground. A little girl reached out and fingered her dress, her tiny fingers rubbing the material.
"Cotton," Quinlan told the child.
Isatai climbed from his mare and stood before them. "We're honored that Pecos’s teacher is here."
"Thank you for letting me learn from you about your way of life."
"Since the treaty, we've been fortunate that Mr. Joseph allows us to reside here or we would be required to be on a reservation. This way we're both close to my son."
Pecos stood by his father's side, smiling at her. She could tell he was pleased that she visited. As she gazed at the beautiful tepees, she couldn't wait to look inside. In days past, how exciting it must have been to travel by horseback across the plains, eating game and vegetables.
"We brought supplies, we hope you can use," Will said.
Isatai nodded. "Thank you. In honor of your visit, Topsanah is preparing us lunch. Come, let me show you our camp. In the olden days when I was a boy, this would not compare to our village."
They walked through the orderly encampment, at least twenty tepees stood tall reaching toward the sky. Isatai showed Quinlan and Will how they lived. In the center of the camp, they came to a large pit. "In the evenings, we sit around the fire and tell stories to the younger generation. It's important that the lives of their ancestors are not forgotten."
What did Quinlan know about her ancestors? Originally her mother came from Ireland and her father? Nothing was known of his family. What a gift to learn about the people who came before you and know that when you're gone, you will be remembered. That your story will be told around the fire.
They walked farther into the camp, Isatai leading the way. Finally they arrived at the biggest tepee. A beautiful dark-haired woman stepped outside and smiled at Quinlan.
"This is Topsanah."
"Please, come inside."
This must be Isatai's new wife and Quinlan returned her smile. The woman led her through the open flap, where off to the side, blankets were stacked. In the center, a small fire burned. On it, a pot of something bubbling and Quinlan was excited to experience a Native American dish.
Topsanah motioned for them to sit next to the fire and Isatai sank to the ground beside Quinlan. "Topsanah is a great cook. Enjoy."
The woman dipped the stew from the fire and handed each of them a wooden bowl, and then she handed, first Isatai then the others, a plate of what looked to be some vegetable coated in course powder.
Quinlan took a bite and smiled. "Hmmmm. Is this green tomatoes fried in cornmeal?"
Isatai smiled at his wife. "Yes, Topsanah is from a Cherokee tribe. One of her favorite dishes is fried green tomatoes. We've been eating the last of the crop."
The stew, everything was very tasty as they sat on the ground covered in leather hides.
"You came from back east?" Isatai asked Quinlan.
"Yes, I grew up in an orphanage," she said. "How do the Comanches handle children whose families are no longer together or the par
ents are killed?"
The man frowned. "It depends on the tribe. Our tribe made a decision that our children would never leave and go to a school. If both die, then either a family steps up and takes them in or if they're old enough, they learn to live on their own."
At seven, Quinlan would have had a hard time making it on her own.
The chief rose and Will stood and offered Quinlan his hand to help her up from the ground.
She nodded to Topsanah and said, "Thank you for the delicious meal."
The woman nodded, but Quinlan wasn't sure she understood. Walking into the warm sunshine, she realized it was time to go. What a wonderful morning learning about her student's tribe and family.
Standing in front of the wagon, she turned to Isatai. "Thank you for allowing me to see how you live and for allowing me to teach your son. He's a bright young man with a great future ahead of him."
The leader bowed. "We are honored you came."
Will lifted Quinlan onto the hard seat and climbed in beside her. He touched the rim of his hat with his fingers as the team pulled away. Quinlan waved before she turned and smiled at her husband. "That was the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you."
Briefly he kissed her on the lips. "My pleasure. Now let's go home."
Later that evening, they sat outside the house in the porch swing, looking at the stars. Will couldn't remember a time since his brother's death he felt so happy. Riding into town, they had stopped and had dinner at a local diner and then hurried home.
"At the orphanage, we didn't have swings like this," she said, her thigh pressed against his leg.
In the last few weeks, she'd grown more and more comfortable with him, not jumping every time he touched her, welcoming his kisses and curling up next to him at night.
"Tell me about your brother," she said softly in the darkness.
A ripple of shock spiraled through Will. What brought this on? Secrets still existed between them. Things she didn't know about him and he wondered if it was time to tell her.
"How did you know about David?"
Lipstick and Lead Series: The Complete Box Set With a Bonus Book Page 137