Tennessee Bride

by Rosanne Bittner

  There was an odd quietness over the village. No one was laughing or running about. Then he spotted it, the roan gelding he was sure River Joe had always ridden when he came to the settlements. He glued his eyes to the cabin in front of which the horse idly grazed. It seemed hours before the door finally opened, and then Tommy’s heart almost stopped beating.

  Emma! A beautiful young woman with golden hair came outside. Her hair was tied into a a tail at the base of her neck. Two Indian women came up to her and they embraced. Each Indian woman held a child, one of them just a little baby. Emma took the baby and hugged it, then took the second child, which looked like a small boy, in her other arm and hugged him, too.

  Two children! They already had two children! Furious jealousy raged in Tommy Decker’s soul. It was all he could do to keep from rising and going to get Emma Simms then and there, but that would be foolish. He wasn’t worried about the other Cherokee, but he was worried about River Joe. Where was he? Emma seemed to be crying now, and she and the three women went back inside.

  He wanted to scream, yell, laugh, jump up and down. Finally! He had finally spotted her! She really was alive and living among the Cherokee. This time he would not go back empty-handed. He would go back with Emma Simms dragging behind!

  He rolled onto his back, looking around carefully. His only sure bet of defeating River Joe was surprise. If they took the village by surprise and surrounded it, he could call River Joe out and shoot him on sight. The Cherokee wouldn’t do a damned thing about it. They were forbidden to fight back or to kill a white man. He almost laughed out loud at how easy it was going to be.

  Tommy carefully scooted back to the thicker woods, still seeing no other scouts. He moved down past a short dropoff, landing on his feet, then took off running. There was not a moment to waste! This time he would not fail!

  Chapter 19

  The night was peaceful for River. Emma mixed Ramona’s concoction into his whiskey, making him drink a small glass. He had slept hard all night. Emma lay beside him, memories of the past several months moving through her mind, memories of the life she had led before River Joe came to her that afternoon at the river.

  How different it all was now, and how beautiful. If only it could always stay this way. But an odd anxiety had plagued her all night long. It didn’t seem to have anything to do with River’s physical condition. It was something more. She kept watch over him, and he seemed to be sleeping deeply and comfortably.

  She checked on the children, picking up Rachael once during the night for a breast-feeding. All the while she sensed a presence, a danger that she could not explain. She put Rachael back in her cradle and walked back to Joshua, bending close and kissing his soft baby cheek.

  How she loved her children! How wonderful to be able to give them the love and attention she had never received. No one was going to abuse these children, and they would never lack for love. She would make sure of that. And even though it was the Cherokee custom for an uncle to take over the raising of the children, River’s white blood would not allow anyone but himself to be responsible for his son and daughter. He was the father, and he was a good father, an attentive father, who provided well for all of them in spite of the hardships under which they lived. Now she realized that if anything happened to him, her children would rely on her to carry on, to protect them, feed them, provide for them.

  She squeezed River’s hand and a lump rose in her throat. How would she ever go on without him? They had been together such a short time, yet he was everything to her now, her very life’s blood.

  She closed her eyes and fell into a restless sleep.

  Emma awakened to a rapid tapping on her door. The sun had not yet risen, and she was groggy, aching from too little sleep and too much worry. She glanced at River, who still slept, then moved carefully off the bed and to the door. “Who is it?” she asked softly.

  “It is I—Red Wolf. Quick. Let me in!”

  Emma frowned, opening the door and gasping at the sight of blood on Red Wolf’s face, streaming down from a gash on his forehead. He darted inside, looking over at River, then back at Emma. “He sleeps?”

  “Yes. Red Wolf, what happened to you?”

  “I come to warn you. I have seen two white men. I came across them by accident, almost stepped on them. One rose up and hit me with the butt of his rifle. When I came around, they were gone.”

  Emma felt the terror crawling into her heart. She reminded herself to stay calm, that she must think of the children and River. She hurried to a cupboard and took out a clean cloth, bringing it over for Red Wolf to hold against the cut on his head.

  “Here, Red Wolf. You’re bleeding badly. Did you get much of a look at them?”

  “No. I came to tell you first because of your fear of the white men. It might only be settlers spying on us to see what we are doing—making sure they are safe. Perhaps they only struck out at me because I startled them.”

  He pressed the cloth to his head and Emma put a hand to her stomach, looking over at River. “We can’t be sure,” she said. “Perhaps the men who have been looking for me and River have finally found us. Most of the night I had the strangest feeling, as if somebody is watching me.” She looked back at Red Wolf. “We should have dug another hiding place. But it’s been so long. We thought maybe they had given up.”

  Her breathing quickened as she realized the gravity of the situation. “There might not be a lot of time, Red Wolf. If you saw men nearby, perhaps more will come soon. Perhaps they have already surrounded us. If it’s… if it’s Tommy Decker—” She could hardly make herself say the hated name. “He’ll be more determined than ever this time.”

  She swallowed back an urge to scream. Tommy Decker! It couldn’t be! Surely the Maker of Breath would not do this to her.

  “Emma, you must hide.”

  She shook her head. “No. If they have been spying then they already know I am here. They would tear this whole village apart looking for me, maybe hurt or kill some of your people I can’t let that happen.”

  She began pacing, trying to think quickly. “Right now we have to think of River,” she said then, stepping closer. “If it’s Tommy and he finds River in this condition, unable to defend himself, he’ll kill him in cold blood. He’s mean enough to do it. If I am going to save River and my babies and save others from being hurt, then I must give myself over to them, if they come here asking for me.”

  “You cannot do that!” His eyes moved over her. “They will hurt you badly. You have said so yourself. Your greatest fear has been that this man named Tommy will come for you.”

  “I know. But… River… he can’t defend himself right now. He’s depending on me to defend him, just as he risked his life to defend me at times. I can’t ask any of you to do it. You can’t fight back, Red Wolf. And I will not be responsible for any of you getting hurt, or for River getting killed!”

  She opened the door and peered out. Dawn was breaking. “We have to be ready. I want you to go to the others and spread the word quickly and quietly that River is dead—tell everyone out there that they must stick to that story. Tell them in the Cherokee tongue, so that if any white men are out there listening, they will not understand. They must understand that they all have to tell the same story and make the white men believe it. In River’s condition—” She fought a building panic. “He can’t help me! The only way he can help me is to stay alive and come for me! I know these men. They won’t kill me. They want me for… other reasons.”

  She did not bother with details, nor did she dare to think about them. The horror of it began to grip her and she struggled to stay in control, reminding herself that she had to think of River and the children right now. “I can bear it as long as I know River is alive and can come for me when he’s well.” Her eyes teared. “And he will come for me! I know he will!”

  “What will you do? How will you convince them about Joe?”

  “I…” She looked around frantically
at River. Tommy would kill him if he found him this way. “I’ll find a way to hide him. Then everyone must stick to the story—that he was attacked by a bear and died of infections. We have to be very convincing, Red Wolf, or River will be killed.”

  “He will be very angry and crazy with grief when he finds out what you have done.”

  “I have no choice. I can’t let them tear your houses apart again, and this time Tommy—if it is Tommy—will do more than that if he can’t find me. He’ll burn your homes and abuse your women. He won’t give up this time because he or someone he is riding with has probably seen me.”

  Red Wolf took the cloth from his head, putting it into her hand and wrapping a big, dark hand around her own. “I will spread the message. And I will send Peter to help you hide Joe.”

  She nodded, struggling to be strong. “If I come outside, and we talk convincingly… I think all Tommy really wants is me. If I can get him to leave with just me, River will be safe and can heal. Then he’ll come for me. Knowing that will help me survive, Red Wolf. Hurry now! There might not be much time. If we’re lucky, this will all be for nothing. But I have this terrible fear that Tommy Decker has found me.”

  He nodded, studying her admiringly for a moment before hurrying outside. Emma quickly shut the door and bolted it. Tommy Decker! She wanted to scream for River to wake up and help her. But River could not help her this time. And Tommy must not know that River was in such a helpless condition.

  She would rather die than see or be touched by Tommy Decker again! But River was more important even than her own horrors. She hurried to the bed. There might not be time to wait for Peter. She had to protect River. She didn’t want to hurt him, but at the moment she had no choice. She prayed to the Maker of Breath for help as she eased her arms under his torso and gently pulled. He was much too big and heavy for her. She whimpered in desperation, praying again for help. She eased one arm under his neck and moved the other arm around the front of him, grasping him under the left shoulder. Again she pulled, this time half-lifting, half-dragging his torso until she got him over the edge of the bed.

  River groaned lightly but was so sedated that he was barely aware of what she was doing. She was grateful now to Ramona for the powerful concoction the woman had given River to drink. She stood up and grasped River’s ankles, lowering his legs to the floor. Acting quickly could be vital now. The sun was rising!

  She grabbed up some quilts and covered River fully, tucking the large, handmade blanket under him for softness and making sure he was completely warm and covered. She placed another blanket under his head, then pulled and yanked at the big, wooden bed so that River lay hidden beneath it.

  She hurriedly replaced and mussed up another quilt, making sure the bed looked as though she had been sleeping in it in case men came inside the cabin. Now she could only pray that if they did look inside the cabin they would not see River Joe and would then believe the story she would tell them. Her faithful Cherokee family and friends would have to help with the story.

  She straightened and stared at the empty bed, feeling devastation sweep over her. “Oh, River,” she whispered. “What if… I never see you again.” She backed away, the agony and horror of what could be lurking in the shadows beyond the trees beginning to erode her sanity.

  Again she reminded herself to remain calm and rational. She must force herself to bear whatever Tommy Decker did to her, for it could mean saving River’s life and possibly her children’s lives. That was all that mattered.

  She went to her children, kissing them, touching them, struggling against screams and tears. She told herself that maybe the men lurking outside didn’t mean any real harm. Maybe they really were just local settlers. If so, they had no reason to harass these Cherokee. The Indians had done nothing illegal, and they had made no moves against any whites in the area. They had gone out of their way to stay away from the whites and their farms and to lead their own quiet, peaceful life. Why didn’t the settlers just leave them alone?

  “Babies. My babies,” she whispered.

  If it was Tommy Decker out there, she must do whatever he said just to get him away—away from River! Away from her babies! And then somehow, somehow River would come for her. That hope would be her sustaining strength. She walked around the bed and knelt down, reaching under and touching him. She knew that if he were well and awake, he would never let Tommy Decker touch her. But for now…

  “Oh, River,” she wept, putting her head down on the edge of the bed. “River! River! Thank God you’re asleep and don’t know. Thank God for Ramona’s potion. Maybe sleep will save your life.”

  If only the danger lurking outside were a bobcat or a bear—anything but Tommy Decker!

  Someone tapped quietly on the door then. “Emma. It is I—Peter.”

  She hurried to the door, just as the sound of war whoops and hard-riding horses could be heard circling the village. Emma let Peter inside.

  “They come!” he said, looking at the bed. “Where is Joe?”

  “Under the bed,” Emma answered, grabbing his arm. “Peter, you have to help me! They have to think River is dead or they’ll kill him while he lies helpless! You have to give me over to them—tell them you took me for your woman and you don’t want me anymore!”

  “What! What are you saying?”

  “I am saying that the only chance for Mary and Grace and all of you that I love, and the only chance for River to stay alive, is for all of you to give me over gladly. We have to convince them that River is dead and you took me after he died, but you don’t want me anymore.”

  “No. I cannot do that to Joe’s woman.”

  She grasped his arms, as men rode in circles now behind the cabins, carrying lit torches, laughing and shouting. “Peter, please! Those men have probably already killed or badly wounded the Cherokee scouts. They mean business this time, Peter, if Tommy Decker is with them. Please, please don’t make me feel responsible for Mary being raped or one of you being killed—or for them finding and murdering River! The only way they’ll not harm you is if you don’t put up any fight for me. Please, Peter! Red Wolf is telling the others that they must stick with our story that River is dead. That’s the only thing that will save his life, Peter, and maybe Rachael and Joshua’s, too. If they take me away, I want my babies to stay here. I know Mary and Grace will take good care of them for me.”

  The young man blinked, turning away in confusion.

  “Peter, there isn’t time to argue. Please help me save River!”

  Outside, white men were already herding the Cherokee out of their cabins, while River lay in a deep sleep under the bed. This time the attack had been well planned. The Indians had had no time to hide or run. The men with the torches were shouting for everyone to come out of their cabins and stand at the center of the village.

  “Hurry it up!” someone screamed. “Get your brown asses out here! Every one of you! Every man, woman, and child, get out here! We know you can’t fight back, so you better do like I say, or I’ll rape every girl and kill every baby and burn every cabin in this village!”

  Emma recognized Tommy Decker’s voice. The months away from him had not erased the memory of it, nor the memory of the day he had attacked her. He would want a terrible revenge for what she had done to him that day.

  “Get moving!” someone else shouted.

  How had he found her this time? She had thought they were so well hidden. River wasn’t even sure they were still in Tennessee. But it mattered little now. All that mattered was that she protect River. Protect River.

  “You, too, Emma Simms!” came the familiar, sneering voice. “I know you’re in there! Come on out, Emma, honey. Have you missed me?”

  River. She would think only of River, of keeping him alive so he could come for her.

  “Please, Peter,” she begged with a shaking voice. “It’s him. It’s Tommy Decker. I recognize his voice.”

  He turned to face her. “Joe will hate me. He will
kill me—hate all of us for letting them take you!”

  “No. He’ll understand. I know he will. It’s the only way, Peter.”

  He walked closer, his eyes showing tears. “All right,” he said quietly, taking her arm and leading her toward the door.

  Outside, the Cherokee were gathering, most of them still in nightclothes or only half-dressed. They whispered among themselves, spreading a message Tommy Decker did not understand: “Tell them River is dead.” Young girls cringed and little children cried until Tommy ordered their parents to make them shut up.

  “Emma Simms!” Tommy shouted then. “I know you’re here, Emma! I’ve already seen you. Get on out here or I’m comin’ in after you!”

  Mary and Grace stared at him, hating the redheaded Unega who had terrified Emma Simms before. Now they understood that terror. Both women felt a sickening sorrow as the door to Emma’s cabin opened and Emma stepped out, wearing only a flannel gown. Peter held her arm. They approached Tommy and his men, and suddenly Peter shoved Emma so hard it surprised even Emma. She stumbled forward and fell to the ground, too numb now with a determination to save River to let the sight of Tommy Decker make her cringe and try to save herself. Too many people’s lives depended on this moment.

  “Do not harm us!” Peter shouted. “You have come for the white woman. Take her! I have slept with her all I want. She is of no more use to me!”

  Those Cherokee who understood English looked at him in surprise, keeping quiet and realizing something planned was happening here.

  Emma raised her eyes to meet Tommy Decker’s cold blue ones. The sight of him made her feel faint. She concentrated on River and her babies as she got up and stood facing Tommy, her chin held high, proud of the fact that Tommy’s face looked crooked and he didn’t speak quite right.