Unspoken Love

by Lynn Gale - Unspoken Love

  Heedless of his viewpoint, she gathered a basket containing fruits, breads, and jams, then defiantly strode to the barn. Throwing caution to the wind, she saddled Daisy and rode out unchaperoned.

  As Jenny set out for Greenville, she reflected on her mission. Thankfully, the Butlers were not hurt, but she deeply regretted their loss. The Butlers had taken pride in their small cabin home and compact gardens. Often they helped others in the community. Now it was time to repay them in kind.

  Once in Greenville, she stopped at the gunsmiths. Eager to see Mary, she tied Daisy to the hitching post and unstrapped the basket of food. She rapped on the door that led upstairs. While she waited, she gazed down at the sidewalk and saw Old Sam, the Butlers’ family dog, lying on a threadbare blanket. The animal raised his head and looked at her, then wagged his tail in a friendly salute and resumed his position to nap.

  Mary peered out the door. Her sad blue eyes warmed with recognition, and she welcomed Jenny into the building. She brushed aside unruly brown hair and smoothed the wrinkles from her calico frock. “Come upstairs to our temporary living quarters,” she invited. She ascended the stairs, her breathing labored. “It’s an effort for me to climb steps with the baby due in two weeks.”

  Jenny followed Mary up the steep staircase. When they reached the landing, she passed the basket to her. “There’ll be more food to come,” she promised.

  “Thank you. I’m glad to see you Jennifer, please come into the parlor.”

  She glanced about the cramped quarters that were remarkably clean considering two families were living under the same roof.

  The women sat and sipped tea and talked about the fire. Mary’s face grew pale as she relived the incident. “We were asleep. I suspect hot cinders strayed from the fireplace. The fire spread rapidly. Old Sam alerted us in time, barking to high heaven as flames licked the walls.” She ran her fingers over her throat. “I felt the life being squeezed from me.” She took a deep breath and continued, “We choked on the smoke but miraculously made it out alive.” She twisted the edge of her muslin apron with nervous energy. “Neighbors helped Tom put out the blaze. It’ll be a while before we can move back home. My brother, Jonathon, and his wife, Martha, invited us to stay here until our house is rebuilt. We are inspired by their kindness.”

  Jenny envisioned smoke-filled rooms and flames spreading throughout the house. She placed her hand on Mary’s shoulder to comfort her. “You’ve been through a horrendous ordeal, Mary. My heart goes out to you.”

  “The fire still plagues my waking days, reminding me how close I came to losing my family in the blaze.” Mary’s voice faltered.

  Small footsteps bounded up the staircase, interrupting the poignant moment, and Mary’s two sons poked their faces in the doorway. Four-year-old Tommy followed his older brother, Joey, who was five, into the room. The blue-eyed, sandy-haired boys clung to Mary and curiously studied Jenny.

  Jenny’s face lit up when she saw the boys. Reaching into her cloak pocket, she pulled out two packages and held them out to the children. “I brought some special gifts for you,” she said. She smiled as the boys shed their shyness and opened their presents. Their eyes sparkled with excitement when they discovered the contents. Upon further scrutiny, they hesitated and sent their mother a questioning look. “This is an acrobat,” Jenny explained to Joey. “The little man turns cartwheels if you squeeze the handles like this. See?” Leaving Joey to practice with the acrobat, Jenny showed Tommy how to use the teddy bear on a string. “Pull the string and make the bear walk,” she said, delighting in his joy when he saw the bear moving.

  The boys wrapped their arms around Jenny’s neck and hugged her tightly.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Grant,” they shouted in unison. We’re going to show our friends!” Jenny smiled and watched them scamper down the stairs.

  The words Mrs. Grant rang in her ears. The children had innocently reminded her that she was married to Nicholas, and for a moment, she was back on the plantation, remembering his discontent when he learned she was riding to town alone.

  Mary’s soft voice pulled Jenny out of her daydreams. “That was very thoughtful of you,” she said wistfully. “The children’s toys burned in the fire.”

  “I am delighted to be able to bring them a bit of happiness,” Jenny said. She saw Mary’s forlorn look and placed her hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot, Mary, but look on the bright side. Soon you’ll have a new home, and most importantly, no one perished in the fire.”

  “You’re right, Jenny. I guess I’m just tired and ready to have this baby.”

  Jenny stood. “I’ve enjoyed our visit Mary, now I must hurry along.” She slipped on her gloves. “I want to stop by the inn and see Aunt Thelma before I head for home.”

  Feeling lighthearted, she ambled down the stairs and untied Daisy from the hitching post before heading for the inn.

  Nakao, a full-blooded Cherokee Indian, also rode toward the Hearthside Inn. A handsome man of thirty and a proud individual he’d lived in the white man’s world but never gave up his heritage. Waoota, his younger brother, was in jail for murder. Waoota’s trial was in two days with Judge White presiding over the case, and he planned to visit his brother before his trial.

  On an errand for Thelma Smith, Bonita rushed out of the inn and collided with Nakao. As Nakao steadied her, she took in his handsome profile. His shoulder-length black hair glistened in the sunlight, and a red headband kept it from falling in his face. His dark brown eyes darted about, looking for danger. Although he had never made any overtures toward her the few times they had met, Bonita imagined he would make an excellent bed partner. She realized why he was in town, for she, too, had heard the rumors about Waoota. “Did you come to Greenville because of Waoota?”

  Nakao’s eyes blazed with purpose. “Yes,” he responded. “I am angry that Judge White has not released Waoota. “

  She glanced past Nakao and saw Jennifer approaching the inn. She hated Jennifer because she had stolen Nicholas’s heart and married him. Jenny had ignored her since they had words about Nicholas being in her bedroom. Envious of Jenny’s position, she devised a plan that could destroy her. “If you kidnap Judge White’s wife, Ellie, he will know how it feels to lose a loved one. He might free Waoota. “

  Nakao’s face registered surprise at her chilling suggestion. Still, he contemplated her words. What did he have to lose? He gazed into Bonita’s large brown eyes. “Will you go with me and point out Judge White’s wife?”

  She nodded. “We don’t have far to go, Nakao. Ellie White, the woman you seek, is coming toward us.”

  Nakao followed Bonita’s gaze and saw a beautiful young lady striding toward them. “I expected an older woman.” She brushed past them and entered the inn. “Find a reason to send her out back. I will be waiting for her,” Nakao commanded.

  Forcing back an evil smile, Bonita nodded her consent. “Good luck with your mission, Nakao.” She moved away quickly in order to catch Jenny before she found her Aunt Thelma.

  While Nakao waited behind the inn, Bonita ran inside to find Jennifer. When she had caught up to her, she shared a falsehood. “Jennifer, your aunt is sick.” She barely gave Jenny time to digest the news as she shoved an empty basket into her arms. “Would you gather some flowers from behind the inn while I find a vase? I’m sure it would cheer Thelma up immensely.”

  “Certainly,” Jenny replied. “I’ll check on Aunt Thelma first.” She started for her room.

  “Wait!” Bonita called. “Thelma isn’t bedridden. It’s just that she’s feeling tired, and I thought the flowers would cheer her up.”

  Jenny breathed a sigh of relief. “If Aunt Thelma is up and about, then I can take a few minutes to make her a bouquet. I’ll take Daisy to the stables and stay a while.”

  Jenny walked into the forest with the basket on her arm. As sh
e stooped to pick bluebells and purple violets, a wild rose caught her eye. Walking deeper into the woods, she bent down to retrieve the fragrant blossom. The basket tumbled to the ground, scattering the flowers, when a man’s muscular arms subdued her and a strong hand clamped over her mouth. She yanked his hand away from her face.

  “Let me go!” she screamed.

  “I will not hurt you, Ellie White.” He gazed at her, his dark eyes reflecting glimmers of determination. “I am Nakao. My brother is in jail facing a murder charge for killing the man who killed his wife, Sarah.”

  Jenny tried to make sense of his words. “I am not the judge’s wife. I am Jennifer Grant. Ellie White is my friend.”

  Nakao released her. His voice deepened with apology, and his eyes softened.

  “I’m sorry. I have wronged you.”

  Jenny stepped back and observed him. He seemed sincere enough, for surely he could have harmed her. She relaxed a little. “Tell me about your brother.”

  “Waoota is a good man. We have been through difficult times. When the government forced us to leave Georgia twelve years ago, we escaped and hid in the hills until it was safe. We found work on a small farm growing corn and wheat in exchange for a place to live. The landowner became our friend and held no ill will against the Cherokees. Three years later, his daughter, Sarah, married Waoota. Sarah was a good woman and lived a happy existence with Waoota until she was strangled by a vicious outlaw.” Pain filled his eyes as he continued, “We were working in the fields and heard Sarah scream. By the time we reached the cabin, she was dead. Waoota confronted Wilbur Hall as he sped down the road. I followed and watched them dismount and face the other. Wilbur Hall taunted my brother, saying he wasn’t sorry for killing Sarah. They fought. Wilbur pulled his gun and aimed it at Waoota. Waoota plunged his hunting knife into Wilbur’s chest, killing him instantly. Travelers arrived in time to see Waoota kill Wilbur and claimed he did it in cold blood. I was the only witness, but because I am an Indian, they ignored my words. With no other witnesses to prove Waoota’s innocence, the sheriff arrested him and charged him with murder.” Nakao’s eyes filled with sadness as he continued, “I watched this happen with hardness in my heart. The white man had spoken, and my word was worthless in defending Waoota. With no money, I could not pay anyone to help him.”

  “You’ve been through a great tragedy, Nakao,” Jenny said, deeply moved by his story. “Would you like me to speak with Judge White on your behalf?”

  “You would do that for me?”

  She nodded.

  “You are the only one who might save my brother from a hanging. I accept your help.” A breeze stirred, and autumn leaves scattered across the forest as the brawny Indian became melancholy. “Waoota and Sarah were married less than a year. Sharing our Indian customs, Waoota had taught Sarah how to make jewelry. We sold it in town to increase our income. Now she is dead, and Waoota may soon join her.” He gave her a sincere look. “You are easy to talk with. Until now, I have suffered in silence. He took a deep breath, then continued, “When Sarah returned to the house, she found Wilbur Hall stuffing jewelry into his pockets. Wilbur strangled Sarah to silence her screams, then he ran from the house with our precious stones.”

  Jenny felt empathy for the Indian and became more convinced than ever to speak with Judge White. Still she scolded, “Taking a hostage is not the way to get your brother released, Nakao.”

  A sheepish grin came over the big Indian. “Perhaps not, but I did not have anyone to speak on my behalf.” He gave her an intense look. “Maybe I was meant to find you.”

  “For a moment I suspected my husband planned my abduction,” she told Nakao. “Nicholas chastised me for riding out alone. I thought he was trying to teach me a lesson.”

  “Kidnapping for another man would not be honorable,” Nakao answered solemnly.

  Jenny glanced around the side of the inn. “Go before someone sees you.”

  Nakao’s dark brown eyes pierced hers, and he nodded. With agility, he leaped astride his stallion. Proudly, he sat in the saddle and, again, his eyes locked with hers.

  “Good-bye, Jennifer Grant.” Leaving her behind the inn, he guided his horse along the narrow path and into the woods.

  Having replaced her fear with empathy for the Indian, Jennifer watched Nakao ride into the forest. After a quick visit with Aunt Thelma who looked the picture of health, she stepped outside and turned her attention to Daisy. Mounting the docile mare, she rode the short distance to Judge White’s house.

  Reining Daisy to a halt, she dismounted and tied her to the hitching post. She approached the White’s modest home and rapped on the door. Ellie peered at her from the window and sent her a warm smile. Her brisk footsteps echoed on the floor as she hastened to the door and motioned her inside. “Good evening, Jenny. Why are you out so late?”

  “It’s a long story, Ellie. May I speak with John?”

  “Certainly, come with me to the kitchen,” said the small-stature woman with cheery brown eyes. We were just sitting down to dinner.”

  As the two women stepped into the kitchen, John stood and greeted Jenny. He gestured toward the food on the table. “Will you join us?”

  Jenny looked at the appetizing food. Steam curled upwards on freshly baked biscuits, ham, and boiled potatoes.

  “I’d love to, John.” Famished, she sat down at the table and waited for Ellie to join them.

  Ellie set out another plate and silverware. After pouring freshly brewed coffee into their mugs, she dropped into a chair beside John.

  “Thank you for preparing this bountiful meal we’re about to eat,” John said. Jenny knew he loved Ellie deeply. His quick blue eyes left Ellie and fixed on Jenny as she helped herself to the mouth-watering food. She had taken several bites when he gently coaxed, “Jenny, why have you graced our home this evening?” The genuine smile he sent Jenny gave her the courage to speak her mind. John listened attentively as she told him about Waoota, saying he was in jail and awaiting trial for murder.

  “Please don’t be too harsh on the Indian,” she pleaded. “When Waoota found his wife dead, he was devastated. Wilbur Hall was going to shoot Waoota, so he stabbed him in self-defense.” Grateful that Ellie and John sat quietly engrossed, feeling the depth of her words, she continued, “The thief was robbing them of their few possessions, and Sarah tried to stop him. Wilbur Hall strangled her rather than chance getting caught. For a few pieces of jewelry, Sarah died, causing Waoota unbearable heartache. Surely, you can see the man was justified.” She concluded by saying, “Waoota is tormented by the loss of Sarah. I hope you will spare him from hanging.”

  John placed a hand over Jenny’s trembling fingers. “Having come to a better understanding of the Indian, I will weigh the evidence carefully. Waoota deserves no less consideration than a white man.” As he finished his coffee, an intrigued expression crossed his fading, but still handsome features. “Did you say the outlaw’s name was Wilbur Hall?”

  “Yes,” Jenny replied. “Did you know him?”

  A grim look shadowed John’s face. “Wilbur Hall was a criminal. Sarah was not the only victim to die at his hands. A vicious man, he robbed and murdered many. He was wanted across Mississippi.” John shoved his plate away and stood. “I’m much obliged for the revelation, Jenny. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go to the study and review some law cases.”

  “Thank you for allowing me to speak in the name of justice,” Jenny said.

  Judge White squeezed Jenny’s hand. “Come over anytime.”

  As he ambled toward the study, Jenny sent Ellie a gracious smile.

  “Thank you for the fine meal, Ellie. I must take my leave.”

  The women said their farewells, then Jenny jumped astride Daisy and headed homeward.

  When Jennifer didn’t return home within a reasonable time, Nicholas rode to town
in search of her. Riddled with anxiety, he wondered if his defiant wife had met with foul play or was taunting him for wanting her to stay home that morning. He called upon Mary Butler and asked of Jenny’s whereabouts.

  “Jennifer should have returned to the plantation hours ago, Nicholas.” She closed the door, then quickly opened it. “Jenny did say she planned to visit Thelma Smith before going home.”

  “Thank you, Mary. You’ve been very helpful.” He sent her a sincere look. “I’m sorry about your loss but most happy that your family survived the fire.”

  Mary nodded.

  “Good day, Mary.”

  Nicholas entered the Hearthside Inn and saw Bonita carrying a tray of ale to the patrons.

  “Have you seen Jenny?” he asked.

  Bonita set the tray on the bar and sashayed over to him. Speaking in low tones, she lied to suit her purpose. “Your wife left with another man today, Nicholas. I saw them ride out about midday. He was very handsome and virile. You should watch your wife more closely.”

  Shock, then torment, washed over Nicholas as he hung onto her every word. Jenny hadn’t been unfaithful to him since they had been married. Suddenly he thought of the man who had kissed her at the church the day they met. “Who was this man? Can you describe him?”

  “Yes, his name is Nakao. He is a Cherokee Indian. He is tall and strong, and his muscles ripple like yours, Nicholas. He is very, very handsome.” She taunted, “They shared one horse. He was holding her in his arms as they rode out. Just think what he must be doing now, Nicholas.

  “That’s enough!” Nicholas admonished. “Which way did they go?”

  Bonita pointed into the forest. “You will not find them now. Why don’t you spend the night with me?” she cooed. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling his hard muscles, wanting more.