by Rita Hestand
"How romantic."
"It was not romantic, nor was it a pleasant marriage. But Chatta was his father."
"How long are you staying here?" Laura asked, her voice contrite with anger.
"I do not know. I cannot tell the future." Willa remarked.
"Where is Clay?"
"In the pasture, I imagine." Willa told her.
"I have a right to feel as I do, my mother was killed by Indians." She told her, when Willa refused to give her the time of day. "They scalped her and left her for dead, she died three days later in my arms."
"I am sorry," Willa stood up now and turned to look at her. "Especially for you. How old were you?" Willa asked as though she could feel her pain.
"I was ten, I found her. I tried to help her, but I couldn't save her. Because of it, I hate Indians, all Indians, including you and your child. To think Clay would have you here, sickens me. He knows how I feel about Indians."
"I can understand your sorrow and your pain. My mother died from a white man's disease, smallpox. I could not save her, many others died along with her. The Indians do not have any resistance to the white man's disease. But it is certainly not the white man's fault. My people blamed the whites for bringing such a disease to this land. So, I understand where hate comes from, but when so many die in wars you begin to realize that the hate only breeds more hate. I am here only to do the cooking and cleaning."
"I'm sorry about your mother too, but it can't compare to someone deliberately killing you. If you don't leave on your own, I will see to it that you are miserable. You will have no peace here. You don't belong here." Laura shouted. "And you're going to learn that very quickly."
Willa took Elan into her arms and went toward the house. "I am sorry for you Miss Laura." She whispered as she passed her. "I mean you no harm, no harm at all."
"Where are you going?"
"To cook the noon meal, of course."
"I'm talking to you."
"I think you are through talking to me. I understand what you are saying, but it is something I cannot repair. Many have died between our peoples. For many years, but now there is peace. Do you not want that peace?"
"Peace? After all these years of killing, you think we can have a peace between our peoples?"
"Is it not better than war and more death?"
When Willa went inside, she seemed to come apart, Willa heard her sobs but after regaining her dignity, she left.
Laura whipped her buggy so hard the harness on the horse nearly broke.
Willa did not go see about her. Instead she cried inside at the hateful words. But she would not tell Clay or Charlie of her visit. It was wasted words; words of hate and it was something she knew she had to fight. This woman's mind was warped from a death she could not prevent. She felt sorry for her. This was a battle that Willa would see many times in her life, and she knew she must fight it, inside.
Despite the threat that lay between her and Laura, Willa went on.
Weeks passed and life was good for a while.
Willa had grown closer to both men, but she kept her heart a secret. For every day she felt a closeness toward Clay that was hard to disguise. Laura was right, there was no future here or anywhere else for that matter. She had to face that herself.
But leaving would bring her a sorrow she wasn't sure she could face. Her feelings for Clay were so different. She had grown to respect him, as he was a very good man, a hard worker and he loved his father dearly. He was the kind of man she wished she could have feelings for, but she knew it would only bring him trouble and as long as she kept her place, everything might work out well here. She hoped it would. If she could remain distant with Clay, maybe Laura would see in time that there was nothing there and not be so hostile toward her. But could she do that? Because despite what she wanted, there was something for Clay in her heart and she knew it.
It was hard to balance the feelings she knew were growing.
She found herself watching Clay as he worked. During the middle of the day he would often take his shirt off and work, splitting firewood, and making planks for the room they were adding on. Her eyes would follow him, admiring his build. Her finger often itched to touch that solid chest, kiss that stubborn cheek, and it had to be heaven to be wrapped in arms like his.
It was hard enough facing the physical attraction; she had come to admire him in other ways too. Especially his love for his father, his gentleness with her son, and sometimes the look in his eyes when he sought her out.
How could one live with someone without appreciating the good in them?
When a neighbor stopped by to buy some hay, Clay was always the one to load it for them and give a fair price for it. When anyone needed water, Clay gave it freely without thought.
She was overcome with the way her heartbeat drummed when he was around. How could she stop this attraction? Clay didn't invite these feelings; it came from within her. It was up to her to squash it. She must not ruin her life here. For what would she face if she left?
Clay did not flirt or cause those feeling within her, it was just there. And it was up to her not to let on how she felt.
Willa worked hard every day, she cooked, tended the garden and helped feed the animals. She loved animals, all of them. She would teach Elan to love them too.
She would take Elan out of his cradle and let him touch the horses. He would smile and his little eyes would light up.
Elan loved it here, and even his heart was taken by Charlie and Clay.
One day she was going in the house and she heard Clay talking to Elan. Telling him a story and Elan was on the floor staring up at him, his little eyes alight. It warmed her that Clay liked her son too.
But not long after Laura's visit, Charlie developed a deep cough and several days he ran a high fever. It came on rather suddenly, and Willa began preparing all kinds of mixtures for him to take. Charlie took them all, but the cough wouldn't go away. He wouldn't rest, insisting he had chores to do. Finally, one day he keeled over in the pasture, and Clay carried him to the house.
Willa saw him coming and made the bed for Charlie. "He's pretty sick, Willa." Clay told her as she helped him lay him down.
"I will tend him."
"I probably should get the doc. We need to know what is wrong with him."
"If you wish."
He looked at her for a moment, "Will you and Elan be alright while I run into town to fetch him?"
"Of course, we will." She smiled.
Willa was not sure, but she would not voice her fears. She knew she had to learn to take care of herself, no matter what kind of problem arose.
Even her mother had told her many times as a child that she would have to fight people to stay alive, because she was a breed. Strange but her mother always told her that she came from the best part of two worlds. She had to remember those words to keep her head up and fight for her life and her child's.
Clay went into town and fetched the doc. The doc didn't hesitate to get his instruments and followed Clay out with his buggy. Doc Miller was not much younger than Charlie and when he saw Willa he was taken aback for a moment.
"I am Willa, the cook and housekeeper," she told him.
"Oh, well, I'm pleased to meet you Willa. How long has he had this cough? Do you know?" Doc Miller saw how white Charlie looked and weak.
"For a couple of days, it isn't getting any better." She told him. "I have nursed him with several poultice, but nothing seems to work."
"Well, I'll check him out then and see what we can do for him. Have you been taking care of him?"
"As much as he would let me. He insists on working, but today he couldn't make it and Clay carried him to his bed."
"I see."
The doc saw the baby who was trying to sit on the floor on a blanket. "Is that your child?"
"Yes, his name is Elan." She smiled at the doc.
"Looks like a healthy youngster." The doc smiled.
"Yes, he is."
The doc looked
around the place, "I see they're adding on another room."
"Yes, it will be for me and Elan. The cot in the front room is mine for now, but soon we will have a living quarters."
"Well now, that's nice. And I'm glad to see they have someone cooking for them. Charlie wasn't much of a cook you know. It's time they were improving upon the place, glad to see it. And it will make it easier for Charlie, as he needs good food to keep his strength up."
Charlie woke up when the doc started poking him with instruments and gave him a frown. "Who fetched you?"
"Clay did, and it’s a good thing. Charlie, you got the consumption."
Charlie didn't react. "I figured as much. Will it kill me?"
The doc looked at him with a stern face, then the frown melted, and he almost laughed. "I don't know, sometimes people manage to live through it, but not many. And not many your age."
"My age? What do you mean, I'm only fifty-seven?" Charlie wailed. "What's age got to do with anything?"
"You’re a strong man Charlie, I won't contemplate you dying on me. Not yet at least. Now, I'm going to give you some medicine and I want you to take it three times a day. And I'm leaving you some Laudanum so if and when you need it for pain, take it. Understand?"
"Sure, sure." Charlie fussed. "You know I'm not much on medicine doc."
The doc looked at Willa, "See he gets it every day, it's important."
"I will." Willa promised.
Elan stared at the doc, then pointed. He made a sound, but no one knew what he was saying. Elan cried his attempt to speak was not clear, but he made the sound, pointing to Charlie. He barely mumbled, but everyone turned to look at the little one. Willa looked at Charlie, "He's trying to call you Papa, isn't he?"
"I think so," Charlie chuckled.
"Is he your grandson Charlie?" the Doc asked nonchalantly.
"No, but I'd like him to be." Charlie smiled at the baby.
"He's sure got a head full of hair." The doc laughed.
The doc stared at Charlie. Charlie just smiled, "I taught him that. He'll be saying it right before long, you wait and see."
"I see. Well, now you rest up Charlie, when you feel tuckered, I want you to take it easy, and I'll check in on you every now and then to see if you're holding up."
"Alright doc," Charlie frowned.
Willa put Elan up on the bed with Charlie and she saw Charlie instantly smile. He looked at the doc. "This little scamp keeps me on my toes," Charlie touched Elan's cheek. Elan smiled and leaned against Charlie, cooing at him.
"He's quite taken with you." The doc noticed.
"I feel the same of him," Charlie smiled.
Willa walked the doc to the door. "The baby is good for Charlie; it might keep him alive. He sure came alive when you put Elan on the bed with him just now. I think maybe you two being here might help a great deal. I've never been able to get Charlie to take anything I prescribed for him."
"They care for each other." Willa smiled. "And I will see he takes the medicine."
"Where's the father?" The doc asked. "I mean if you don't mind me asking."
Taken by surprise Willa told him he had died. She went on to explain, "My father came and got me on the reservation, as my mother had died. We headed this way and it's as far as we got. The chief's son was his father. My father killed him when he would not let me go with him. When we came here, some of the braves followed, my father was killed in the battle."
"What did they want?"
"My son!"
"I see. Sounds like you've had a pretty rough time of it."
"Not as rough as I could have if Charlie and Clay hadn't been so kind as to offer me a job so I could take care of my son. I must confess, I was lost when my father died so suddenly. You see, my father was a drifter, he had no home. But he planned to make one for us, he just didn't live long enough."
"Well, I think that's beneficial for all of you, to stay somewhere you are welcomed. I'm sorry for your losses."
"My father and husband were both brave men and they both died bravely. You see, I didn't love my husband, it was an arranged marriage, but I respected his love for his son."
The doc seemed to study her words carefully, then smiled. "Well Willa, welcome to our community. I'm sorry I haven't been out here before now to welcome you."
"It is nice of you to do so. Not many would. Look doctor, I am a breed, and I know people in town will talk of me. But I must set things straight if I'm to live here. Elan is my child, Clay nor Charlie are kin to him in any way. I am Christian and I believe in God. As his mother, I must support my child and take care of him. By working here, I can accomplish this as not all white would offer me a home."
The doc leaned toward her with a smile, "Listen these two boys have needed a woman around for a long time. And you've got the place looking very clean. And it smells heavenly in here. Don't you worry about what people say, I can see that you are doing what God intended, taking care of your child, and helping your neighbor, Charlie and Clay."
"I have made a stew; we have a good garden growing now and I planted many vegetables. You are welcome to share a meal with us." Willa told him.
"Thanks, but I got to see Mrs. Williams down the road while I'm out this way. She's old and alone and I'm worried about her. Say, that reminds me, I have a patient out further with the scurvy. I wonder if I stopped off here every now and then if I could take some vegetables to him. I'd pay for them of course."
"Of course, I have a nice size garden it is just now putting out I will gladly share some with you, without pay."
"That would be wonderful, thanks."
"Oh, where does she, this Mrs. Williams live?" Willa asked with interest.
"About ten miles down the road. She's a widow woman, lived alone out there for about fifteen years. They never had any children, so I worry over her."
"Maybe I could visit her. What is her name?"
"Cora Williams, she'd like that I imagine."
"Then I will visit her. Do you think she'd mind the fact that I'm a breed?"
"Not Cora, she's quite an independent thinker." He smiled at her. "I'll come back next week to check on Charlie. But maybe another time I'll eat with you. Keep an eye on Charlie, don't let him overdo." The doc winked at her.
"Thank you, doctor." She told him with a smile. "And thank you for understanding the truth."
"You take care Willa." He smiled.
He waved her goodbye.
She went in to see about Charlie and Elan. Elan was playing patty-cake with him now and Charlie was smiling ear to ear as he took his hands and clapped them together and sang the song.
"He is a nice man." Willa told him.
"Yes, one of the best in town." Charlie looked up at her.
"He did not think Elan was Clay's child."
"No, he wouldn't think such a thing. You know Willa when it comes to being a Christian some aren't too good at it, but the doc, he is real. He understands things that others don't. I guess because he is more educated and worldly than some."
"Even with our tribe the wise ones were always healers." She nodded, then looked at him with a smile. "I did not know you taught Elan to say 'Papa'. It is his first word."
Charlie eyed Willa for a long moment. "Willa, I've grown close to you both, so has Clay. And I may never get to see a grandchild, so humor me will ya. Elan is all I got now."
Willa smiled with understanding, "I understand Charlie."
"I been kind of hoping you and Clay would get together. You'd make him a fine wife." Charlie told her.
Willa's eyes widened, "It is not possible, Charlie. Clay is a friend, a good friend, but that is all. I would never presume anything like that between us. People would really think the rumors were true, then."
"But if you were married, it would all be legal and what could they say? Who would care what they say, we know the truth?"
"No, it is not right." Willa protested. "Marriage is for two people who love each other. It wouldn't work."
He
r words were hollow though, as her heart was not in them.
"Why not?"
"I'm Indian for one."
"Only half."
"Still, it is enough to cause problems."
"Is it just the problems that keep you from falling in love with my son?" Charlie asked, as he took Elan into his arms.
Willa wanted to confess her feelings, but she feared he'd already guessed them. It was better left unsaid. Unsaid things couldn’t be taken back.
Seeing he knew the truth she blurted, "I cannot speak of such things. It is not my place. I am a breed, and a breed does not allow what you speak of."
"I gotta feeling Clay likes you more than he's letting on. Just from the look in his eyes when he looks at you. And he does look Willa. Have you thought about wearing white women's clothes? I mean it would make it easier. People around here are slow to learn things, but if you wore a white woman's dress, they might be able to accept you more easily."
She looked at herself and then at him. "I have no white woman's clothes, Charlie. Besides, it helps me keep my place, if you can understand it. I know what you want. I too am not blind, but you must not encourage him; would only cause you both trouble. And I do not wish to bring trouble to either of you. I care too much to bring sadness to you."
"I thought so. You won't say it, and neither will he, but I've seen the changes in my own son, and the stars in your eyes when he looks at you. Well, things have a way of working out. I only hope I'm around to see it."
Willa smiled, leaned and kissed his forehead, "You are too onry to die."
Charlie chuckled and Elan copied him. Charlie laughed and wrestled with him on the bed. Elan laughed.
Willa went to finish fixing supper. It was only stew and cornbread, but she wanted to give Charlie and Elan time together. She knew her son adored Charlie.
What they spoke of scared her. If she was to get out of line with Clay, she would jeopardize what she had here. But still, the very fact that Charlie approved of her liking Clay made her heart beat faster. She loved Charlie, and she was quickly growing closer to Clay.
Chapter Eight