Nicademus: The Wild Ones

by Sienna Mynx

  Jeremiah liked the sound of her voice, the thick way her accent wrapped around her words from her full two toned lips. Her face remained concealed from him by her hair. This evening she wore it freed from the braided style she typically wore. Tied back by a scarf. He scooted closer to her on the porch, enchanted.

  “My pa was the shaman too,” she said with pride.

  “A medicine man?” he asked.

  “That’s right, and he could heal just about any person or animal even better than Onsi.”

  “What happened to him?” he asked.

  “One day men came. They said that the railroad was going through our land and we’d have to move west. The elders met and decided to fight for the land of our ancestors.” Annabelle’s voice lowered and her gaze went to her toes with her chin rested at the top of her knees. “I was only six at the time.”

  “You don’t have to discuss it if you don’t want to,” he said.

  “But I do.” She looked over and he saw the truth in her eyes. “With you I want to talk about it.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “My people live when I remember them, when I share their story. It’s what Red Sun taught me.” She wrapped her arms around her knees and drew her legs closer to her chest. “It hurts worse not ta remember.” After a reflective pause she reclined from her tensed positioning and placed her hands at her sides. She dropped her head back. It should be a sin to have a woman this beautiful do so in the moonlight, Jeremiah thought. He nodded that he agreed with her. His hand moved over and covered hers. It was as soft as he expected. She turned her hand over, opened her palm, and took hold of his. Holding on she walked him through her painful memories.

  “My pa told the chief, he warned them all not ta fight. There was no winning that kind of fight against men with guns. But they wouldn’t listen. They hated those soldiers so much they wouldn’t listen. It was terrible. I can still remember the screams and the smell of death and gunpowder. Ma hid me with the children and elderly of the town. She and the other women went after their men. They fought back. And those men, those soldiers caught her, they caught her and … they killed them all. Then they found us. And they started … ah,” she paused. She closed her eyes and rushed through the memory. “They killed even the babies. I watched the slaughter from my hiding place.”

  “Everyone?”

  She nodded. “They killed everyone. Red Sun come for me two days later. How he lived through it all I don’t know. But he had scars so deep he didn’t speak for a year. Not a single word to me. And he buried every one of our people by hisself. We didn’t leave until he saw it through.” Annabelle sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slow. “Don’t remember how long it took though. It just took time. Then we took what we could carry from our tribe on our backs and we walked into the mountains. Those mountains,” she pointed. “We lived there off the land. He helped me grow, taught me to fish and hunt. Became my pa. And all I wanted was to come here, down here where people lived in houses and rode horses. Brown people like me. So we come to Nicademus to start over. That’s how I gots my land and he gots his. With the money from our tribe.”

  Jeremiah pulled her over, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, and warmed her. She allowed his touch. “Before I went to war,” Jeremiah began, “A railroad baron named Tyler Shepherd come to see my father. He congratulated him.”

  “For what?” she asked.

  The reasons for many things in his past were always hard for him to understand. Jeremiah struggled with his family story for different reasons. He loved his pa, and respected him. However, deep inside he knew Annabelle wouldn’t share the same opinion. How was he to explain that his father had mined for gold in Oklahoma and come home with a bag full of riches. That he moved the family out of Tennessee to Arkansas. He bought land, slaves, and became respectable off the backs of her kind. He never had a problem with slavery. They weren’t cruel or unjust. His father was very generous in how he treated his slaves. But hearing her story made him rethink the definition of generosity.

  “Why did he congratulate your pa?” she pushed him to continue.

  “My father found gold. He was quite famous for it. Tyler Shepherd heard of him and wanted to ask Pa to invest in his company. The war was coming, and the railroad line he was building would be given more money by the government to send in ammunition and things needed.”

  “Oh?” she said.

  His chest was tight with worry for not revealing the entire truth. She had bared her soul. To share only half of his story with her felt obscene. But something warned him against it. After all, he was in Nicademus and he still hadn’t seen the town and understood what his presence here among these people meant. “I was forced to go into the war. I didn’t have a choice, Annabelle. None of the boys in my town did.”

  “I understand. I know not every soldier is one by choice. Ms. Kitty told me stories about confederates that showed her kindness when she was on the run. I wish Red Sun could understand a man’s heart and not just see the skin. But it’s how he is after what he’s been though.”

  “I understand,” was all Jeremiah could manage to say.

  “Tell me your story, One-Finger,” she smiled and poked him in a playful manner. “I wants ta hear it. Including how you lost your pinky.”

  He raised his hand and looked at the stub where his pinky finger had once been. “Hmm, okay. I come home after three years of the war and it was gone. Everything. Gone. My family. My land. My girl. Everything. And I learned it was Tyler Shepherd who took it all away. So I hunted him down. The bastard owns the railroad line tunneling out of Tennessee through Arkansas, Oklahoma, headed west. He stayed on the move. Found out he lives in one of his train cars.”

  “You was looking for him?” she asked.

  “I was. Got close too. I came on board his train with my irons and they thought I was there to rob the damn place,” he gave a bitter laugh. “After all that was taken from me they have the nerve to call me the thief. And Shepherd a business man.” He shook his head at the irony.

  “Did you find him?” she asked.

  “No. Just missed him. All I got for my trouble was a little information from one of his people. Learned where he kept his fortune. I wanted my father’s money back. Only his money. Nothing more.”

  “The gold?” she asked.

  “Yes. Thing is, I didn’t realize the gold was in Arkansas and a trap was waiting for me there. So I went for it. I only shot at those who drew on me first. That’s why the banker died, the lawmen died. There is blood on my hands. But there’s blood on theirs too. Anyone working for or helping Tyler Shepherd has blood on his hands. My family’s blood.”

  “What about your pinky? He take that from you too?”

  The laughter bubbled in his throat and he nearly choked on it. He shook his head. “No darling. Lost that learning how to cook in the camp I was stationed in. Brought the cleaver down fast and hard.”

  She laughed. She giggled and fell over on him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You are something, outlaw.”

  Like a shift in the wind, something between them changed. He sensed it. She lifted her head and he was able to look into his eyes. Her mouth was temptingly close to his. He could smell the rosemary on her skin and feel her breath escape her nose. “Let’s go inside. You shouldn’t be seen out here.” She stood and reached for his arm and helped him rise. He pulled her in close and she allowed him to brace himself with her help as they walked. Jeremiah let her go, but it was hard. He walked over to his cot and sat down on it.

  “Got a question for you, Annie,” he said.

  “Annie? Who’s that?” she teased.

  He smiled. “It’s my name for you, is that okay?”

  “I guess,” she said. “What’s the question?”

  “Any other white folk live in Nicademus?” he asked.

  “Not for a long time. But Doc Samuel is white. And we got Mr. Alexander who works for the Post Office. He and his family are white. We gots a judge who comes to s
tay for a spell and leaves, and he white. He deals with our criminals and gives them their sentence. Prospectors come and go who are white. Theys welcome as long as they cause no trouble. But they never stay. One look at our town and they don’t wanna. Guess I’d say yes and no to your question,” she smiled.

  He nodded in return.

  “G’night,” she said.

  “G’night, wildflower,” he said.

  “Wait a second,” she paused with her hand to her hips. “I thought your name for me was Annie?”

  “I guess I got two for you,” he winked.

  She blew him a playful kiss and was gone. He was disappointed to see the night end. He almost opened his mouth to say so, but she disappeared back into her room. And when she closed the door it meant he couldn’t lie next to her. Maybe she sensed it too. If he joined her in bed temptation would get in the way after a night like tonight. So he reflected on the sad story she shared and her strength despite all she’d lost. They were different and yet so much alike in their pain. Strangely enough, he found that commonality comforting. And a small measure of peace granted him sleep.

  **

  Annabelle smiled at Jeremiah from across the table. It was morning. The sunlight filled the cabin with brightness. “Red Sun and a few of the men have rode out to Tulsa. Town’s pretty quiet today.”

  Jeremiah finished his coffee.

  She sat across from him with her hair braided away from her face, one thick braid on each side of her temple and then another down the middle of her head. Her face was ever more striking this way. Her high cheekbones and plump lips, slender eyebrows and large round eyes under dark long lashes were a complement to her beauty, not a detraction.

  “So it’s a light day for you too I suppose?” he asked, dropping his gaze away. “It’s also a good day for me to start out. About my gold—”

  “I was thinking about fishin’. You feelin’ up to it?” she asked.

  “Me?” he frowned.

  “I found you at the creek, surely you’re not scared of it?”

  He laughed. “If the men are gone, isn’t it best I be gone too?”

  “Not all the men are gone, just the ones that’ll take issue with you. And they gone for a week of riding and stuff. You can leave tomorrow or the next day and be just fine. If you insist on leaving at all. Today we fish,” she grinned. “Ms. Kitty won’t send for me. We free to do as I please.”

  “You said I needed to stay hidden,” he reminded her. “What about our friend Jessiemae?”

  “Took care of her. She gon’ be squatting on the honey pot all day thanks to a little cayenne in her dinner last night.”

  Jeremiah roared with laughter.

  “Yep, I think we can manage a little fishin’,” she said taking his plate and hers. “What you say? The walk will do you some good. Walkin’ around this place ain’t no way ta stretch them legs, outlaw. You wanna go or not?”

  “Where’s my gold, Annabelle?” he asked when the laughter died down.

  She turned and smiled. “Is that all you think on?”

  She thought she detected a flicker of humor in those green eyes that she could seize upon. Recently she had discovered that having his attention excited her. And there were few men who gave her that warm feeling when she was around them.

  “I’m a bandit, a man on the run, remember? I think I’ve been pretty patient. Do you trust me or not? You got me staying in here with you. Keeping me fed and alive, but I can’t have my things?” he asked.

  “You’re my pet,” she said defiantly, crossing her arms.

  Jeremiah chuckled, and his smile reached her heart. He was getting stronger. And his attraction to her was growing as well. None of this went unnoticed by Annabelle. In fact, she was puzzled by her attachment to him. She even had the man sleeping next to her in bed. He was nothing like she’d imagined men like him to be. They talked with ease. She found him funny at times. Once he made her laugh so hard with a story about Randy, his horse, that she had a cramp in her stomach. Maybe he wasn’t to be trusted, especially with her feelings. But the forbidden game they played with words and sideways looks made her want to explore the attraction.

  “Well then, I guess you should have it,” she said matter-of-factly. She went into her room and fetched it. Of course she knew there was still a risk that once he had it he’d turn on her. But she felt Jeremiah was honorable. Like her pa, she could feel things too. Carrying his bag of gold and six irons, she put them on the table, minus the bullets.

  Jeremiah grabbed the gold first. He opened the bag and did a mental check. He looked up and saw her glaring at him with her hands to her hips.

  “Go head … count ‘em. I’m no thief!” she declared.

  “I know you ain’t.” He stood and took his things. Dropping the gold nuggets on the cot he checked his pistols, then frowned. “Where’s the bullets?”

  She cocked her head to the right and gave him a challenging stare. She had to be the most stubborn and most willful woman in her town. There was no bending her. Dropping the guns in the sheet he balled them up, then tucked them safely under the cot, hidden from view.

  “My hidin’ place was safer, but suit ya’self.” She shrugged.

  “Now about that fishin’?” he smiled.

  She studied him a moment longer before speaking. “Thought you was set to go?”

  He took a step toward her. He liked the defiant way she stood her ground. “I don’t think we done with each other yet. Besides, a man got to eat don’t he?”

  “Sure he do,” she grinned.

  **

  The smell of sweet grass, pine, and moist earth unfurled in her nostrils and filled her lungs. There was a risk of them being discovered at the creek, but she understood why they both ignored it. It was just the need for freedom.

  “You survived the war,” she said.

  “I did.”

  “How?” she asked.

  “How what?” he replied.

  “How was war?” she asked, stealing a look at him. He clenched his fists, the muscles in his forearms hardening beneath his sleeve. His eyes remained trained on the water of the creek ahead, never returning to hers. When he spoke there was such hollow emptiness in his voice.

  “It felt like slavery,” he replied. His answer floored her. She’d seen soldiers. Black and white soldiers full of pride and self-righteousness had come in and out of her life. None of them looked like the pitiful slaves she’s heard tales about.

  “No offense. Let me correct it,” he said with a sad smile. “It was like what I imagined slavery would be.”

  “How so?” she asked.

  “I was forced to go. Soldiers came to town and picked us up and threw us on the back of a wagon. Told our fathers we needed to join the fight. I had no say. No nothing. Losing your home, your family, being treated like property and told to do things that will haunt you for the rest of your life can change a person. I suffered in silence. Told myself the war was my duty and I was fighting for what was right. But I knew it was wrong. Killing men that looked like me over land, territory, slaves, and whatever else the confederacy wanted from the war was wrong. I had no voice. No way to change things. Just sun up to sun down I did what I was told. That’s how it felt. Like slavery.”

  Annabelle reached for his hand. “My ma only told me one thing about slavery when I was a little girl. Wanna know what she said?”

  “Okay,” he answered.

  “She said she knows what freedom is only because she knows what slavery was. Don’t be ashamed to compare war to slavery. I think what you said is what happen to you. You knows what slavery is only because you knew what freedom was before they came and took you. Understand?”

  He looked over at her. “That’s right, you’re right, I mean. That’s what I mean.”

  She winked. “Smarter than you think, huh?”

  “Very wise,” he said genuinely surprised.

  “That’s why I’m gonna be a nurse. Who knows, I might even be a doctor.”


  She took off ahead of him with her pole. He caught up to her with a few fast steps. He carried the line for hooking and stringing up the fish. Annabelle stepped in the creek ankle deep and cast her line. Dropping in the grass, he watched her. Her vitality captivated him. With each passing day he discovered more than the raw knot of revenge he carried in his gut. Jeremiah knew that the source of his renewed fondness for life was her. But how was that even possible? In the past no matter how beautiful she was he would have never looked upon a Negress the way he did Annabelle. In fact, he was set to marry Suanne Milford until he was forced to enlist. When he came home, she was the one who told him about the fire that killed his folks. She was the one who kept Randy and his father’s saddle for him hidden on her ranch. It was Suanne who shared the tale of the fake will and deed that was all signed over to Tyler Shepherd. How he was penniless and she was set to marry Daniel Avery. Life gone.

  “Looks like you good luck!” she called back at him and brought him out of his thoughts. She lifted a large trout out of the water. She had only been at it for a spell. She hurried over and let the flapping beast sprinkle him with water from its fin.

  “I doubt I had anything to do with it!” he said, putting his hand up to guard his face from the large drops.

  “C’mon, we cain’t stay much longer,” she warned.

  He accepted her hand and she pulled him up. “You cleans it I’ll cook it.” She hit him in the chest with the fish, and then took off running for the cabin. Shaking his head he followed.

  Later that day they did exactly that: he cleaned the fish, and she cooked for him. Together they sat at the table swapping stories of their past lives. He listened to her tell tales of her father, and the tribe she longed for. She got the picture from her dresser he had discovered weeks earlier. She showed it to him. Told him missionaries came and took the photos. Only the important men of the tribe were allowed to take the photos, and she was mighty proud of her father being among them.