T'on Ma

by Magnolia Belle

  "Hello," Nathan said in Kiowa as he leaned on his hoe. "Are you well?"

  "Yes. And you?"

  "I am well. Christina is my wife now."

  "Oh? That is good. I thought perhaps she would be one day." The warrior looked around at the plowed earth in its straight rows, green shoots pushing their way through the soil. "What have you planted?"

  "Corn. Beans. Wheat."

  Two Hawks only nodded. After a period of silence, he then asked the question burning in his mind. "How is your sister?"

  "Lana? She's doing well. She got married, you know."

  That news hit Two Hawks in the gut. "No. I did not. Who?"

  "You might remember him. Lt. O'Connell from Ft. Worth."

  "The soldier who rescued us from the Apaches?"

  "Yes. The same."

  "So she lives at the fort now?"

  "Yes. We don't get to see her now, but hopefully, when the crop comes in, we'll travel up there."

  "Hmmm." Two Hawks didn't know what else to say. News of her marriage left him stunned. Even though she had said they were through, he always thought that somehow they would be together again. "I must go now."

  "All right. It was good seeing you again."

  "You, too." Two Hawks jumped on his palomino, waved once, and loped away. By the time he made it home, he'd finalized plans for his next raiding excursion.

  * * *

  Dear Son, Excited about your news. Will arrive at Ft. Worth in late May. Love, Father

  Liam read the telegram to Lana over the supper table one night.

  "Late May," Lana repeated. "This is late May. They could be here any day now!"

  "I suppose so," Liam's smile slowly faded as he looked at her. "What's the matter?"

  "Your parents are coming here! Here!" She stood up and motioned to their humble quarters. "We've no place to put them. There aren't enough plates for meals. I don't even have curtains up yet. And, just look at this dress!" She held the mended skirt out in evidence of its shortcomings.

  "Whoa, girl. Stop." Liam laughed as he stood up and took her in his arms. "First of all, they aren't coming to see where I live. They are coming to meet my beautiful wife. Second of all, they can eat at the Officer's Mess and stay in guest quarters while they're here. And third, we can get you a new dress. Two, if you want."

  Lana looked up into his handsome face. "Two? Really?"

  "Absolutely. Nothing is too good for Mrs. O'Connell." He kissed her quickly and then sat back down.

  "I wish my roses were blooming," she pouted.

  "Would you stop worrying?"

  "Make me," she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

  "Make you, huh?" Liam rose, grinning, and chased her into the bedroom. He trapped her in the far corner of the room, where she stood breathless and giggling.

  "Aha!" he laughed. "Got you!"

  "Yeah, me and this ratty old dress."

  "Oh, dear. Whatever shall we do?" he asked in mock concern. "I know," he snapped his fingers. "Let's take the dress off you. My wife can't be wearing a ratty old dress, now can she?"

  "No, I suppose not," Lana agreed. "But then, what shall I put on?"

  "Me."

  "Oh, lieutenant, I like the way you think." Reaching up, she kissed him, and then turned so he could undo her buttons. Something in his movement sent her memory back to the cottonwood trees and Two Hawks fumbling with these same buttons. She was glad she faced the wall so Liam couldn't see her eyes right then. Two Hawks. She missed him.

  * * *

  Four days after the telegram, a wagon drove into the compound late one afternoon. Liam had just gotten off duty and turned to look at the newcomers. Recognizing them, he hurried across the grounds.

  "Dad! Hello!" The two men hugged and then stood at arms length, studying each other.

  "You're looking well," Patrick said. "Marriage and Army life agree with you."

  "Thanks. You look like you've gotten a little thin."

  "Trying to find decent food to eat is impossible while traveling." The two men walked to the wagon where two white women, two black men and one black woman were seated.

  "Mary, Mother. Hello." Liam helped his mother down first and then his sister, each one kissing him on the cheek.

  The youngest black man jumped down from the wagon.

  "Jason!" Liam pounded him on the back. "You've sure grown since I saw you last."

  Jason just grinned and then turned to help the older black woman down.

  "Becca, how have you been?" Sweet natured and observant, Becca served as personal maid to Mrs. O'Connell. Streaks of gray ran through Becca's neatly combed hair.

  "And Toby. My, oh, my." Liam nodded to the older black man. "I bet you never thought you'd travel this far west."

  "No sir, I never did," Toby agreed.

  Liam turned back to his family. "Lana is so anxious to meet you. Let me show you to the house and then I'll put the team and wagon away."

  "No. Jason can put the team away. Just point him in the right direction," his father instructed.

  "All right. Jason, see that long building over there?"

  "Yes, sir"

  "That's the stable. Just tell the soldier there that you're with me. He'll show you what to do. Then come to the house, the middle one over there."

  "Yes, sir." Jason and Toby jumped back on the wagon and drove the team to the stable.

  Liam led the small entourage to his quarters and stepped through the door. "Guess who I found wandering around outside?" he smiled at Lana and then stepped back. First his mother, Maeve, then Mary, and then Patrick, walked in.

  Chapter 35 - A Wall of Disapproving Looks

  Putting his arm around Lana's shoulders, Liam introduced his family. Lana shook hands with her father-in-law and then awkwardly leaned forward and kissed Maeve and Mary on the cheek.

  "Please, come in and sit down," Lana invited them. She mentally rejoiced that she wore one of her new dresses that day.

  A single horsehair sofa offered the only seating in the sparsely furnished living room, so Liam carried kitchen chairs into the room.

  "You must be thirsty after your travels," Lana said, trying to break the ice. "I have some fresh lemonade. Would you care for any?"

  "That would be lovely, dear," Maeve accepted. Maeve struck Lana as a serious woman, prim in her attire, her posture and her attitude, well-kept and used to being obeyed. She loved her children fiercely and thought she knew what was best for them at all times. Learning of Liam's marriage without her consent, or even prior knowledge, had greatly upset her. Lana inherently sensed she would have to earn her mother-in-law's approval.

  As Lana went into the kitchen, she saw Becca sitting on the porch. "There's someone outside," she sounded worried.

  Leaning to look out the window, Mary explained, "Oh, that's just Becca."

  "Becca?"

  "Mother's maid." Mary looked a lot like her mother, though slightly taller. As strong-willed as Mary was, she wouldn't defy her mother, which explained why she still lived at home, unmarried.

  "Oh." Lana frowned at the mention of a maid. She'd never known anyone with a maid before and suddenly felt out of place in her own home. Once everyone had their lemonade, Lana said, "Perhaps Becca would like a drink. Shall I take her some?"

  "Goodness, no," Maeve shook her head. "You don't serve slaves. They serve you. Just tell her it's here and she can get her own." Lana's naivety went down as a second black mark against her in Maeve's book. Lana already had one for marrying Liam without Maeve's consent.

  "Yes, ma'am." Lana barely heard Maeve past the word 'slave.' Slave! Here? She shot a look of concern to Liam, who quietly gestured for her to be still.

  At the knock on the door, Liam rose and answered it. Jason and Toby stood there with the O'Connell's luggage.

  "Where do you want this, Mr. O'Connell," Toby asked, looking at the floor.

  "I don't know yet. Liam, where are we staying?"

  "I've arranged guest quarters for you. I'll sh
ow Toby and be right back."

  "Hurry," Lana tried to keep the panic from her voice. She didn't want to be left alone with her in-laws any longer than necessary. When Liam left, Lana stood up and walked to the door. "Becca?"

  "Yes'm?" Becca looked over her shoulder at Lana and slowly stood; the trip had been especially hard on her rheumatism. Lana winced watching the elderly woman's pain.

  "There's some lemonade in here if you'd like. Please, help yourself and, if the others want any, they're welcome, too."

  "Thank you, ma'am." Becca nodded. Lana wished she could bring her a drink. Instead, she dutifully returned to face her new family.

  As she sat on a kitchen chair, Lana wrapped her hands around her lemonade glass to keep them from fidgeting. "So, did you come by wagon all the way here?"

  "No, child." Maeve answered as if that was the silliest thing she'd ever heard. "We took a train as far as we could. Then we caught a stagecoach as far as that went. We only hired a wagon when we came to the end of civilization."

  "I see." Lana looked around the bare room, trying to think of a question that wouldn't sound stupid. She took a sip of lemonade to stall for time. "I guess you saw a lot of pretty country, then," she gamely tried again.

  "We couldn't see much from the train window. It all went by so fast," Mary answered. "And, of course, that's where the best scenery was. Once we got out here, it never changed. Quite boring, actually."

  "Dear me. I'm sorry you found it boring." The small group fell quiet, the silence growing more awkward with each passing second. Lana straightened in her chair when she finally thought of a subject, and smiled at her father-in-law. "When was the last time you saw Liam?" Where was Liam?

  "Shortly after he graduated from West Point. The Army gave him some leave and then sent him out into the wilds." Patrick sounded proud of his youngest son.

  "So it's been a few years then."

  "Yes, dear." There was that tone in Maeve's voice again. "Tell me. Did you ever go to finishing school?"

  "No, ma'am. I don't even know what finishing school is. I got through eighth grade, though." Lana received her third black mark.

  "Eighth grade. How wonderful for you." Mary smiled, but Lana didn't believe her words.

  "I'm back," Liam announced as he walked through the door. "Sorry it took so long, but I forgot about getting quarters for the servants."

  Becca came in behind Liam, and led Toby and Jason to the kitchen to pour them all lemonade.

  "When you're done," Maeve called out, "we could use some more in here, too, Becca."

  "Yes'm."

  Lana bit her lip. Didn't Maeve know how much Becca hurt? Instead of just sitting there, Lana stood up and walked into the kitchen.

  "Let me." Lana took the pitcher out of Becca's gnarly-jointed, painful hands. Winking at her, she poured them all a drink and then took the pitcher to the living room, where a wall of disapproving looks met her.

  "What?" she asked innocently. "I don't want my only good pitcher chipped." There! That ought to keep the snoots quiet.

  * * *

  Dinner at the Officers' Mess that evening went better. More people were there to diffuse the conversation. Liam's father was enamored with the romantic ideal of military life and almost sparkled while talking to captains and colonels and majors.

  Mary kept flirting with one of the young officers across the table from her. Lana watched with great interest. Mary would last about five minutes in the rigors of military life and only about three in Texas. She was the type of girl who needed theater and church and schoolgirl friends and new dresses from Paris every season.

  Lana learned that the O'Connells were wealthy foundry owners and had been for several generations. The oldest son, Patrick, Jr., had stayed at home to oversee the business while his parents were away. Their married daughter, Colleen, lived in New York with her financier husband.

  "What does your father do?" Maeve asked Lana during a lull in the conversation.

  "My father? He's a homesteader a few days west of here."

  "Oh. A farmer, then."

  "Yes'm. He moved us here after he got out of the Mexican-American War a couple of years ago."

  "So he fought in the war, did he?" Patrick's estimation of Lana went up half a notch, but her answer turned the conversation back to military topics, and the trouble the Kiowa and Apache were giving homesteaders and the military.

  "Lana knows all about that," the commander said. "She was captured by the Apache last year."

  "What!" Maeve almost dropped her wine glass. "Captured?" She looked alarmed. Truly alarmed. "For how long?"

  "Only a week or so," Lana explained somberly. "Liam helped rescue me."

  "How fortuitous." Maeve nodded her head, but her tone was curt. That was why he married this little slip of a farm girl. He had fallen for the 'damsel in distress'. Maeve wanted to change the conversation to something more socially acceptable.

  "Tell me, Colonel, where do you recommend we go for a morning ride?"

  The talk turned away from Lana, who looked worriedly at Liam. Something had just gone horribly wrong, but she didn't know what, or why. He squeezed her hand under the table.

  After dinner, Liam and Lana said goodnight and walked back to their home, Lana quiet the whole way. She worried that she didn't fit in with the O'Connell family.

  "What are you thinking about so hard?" Liam asked as they walked in the door.

  "Nothing. I'm just tired. I think I'll turn in early."

  "All right, sweetheart. I'll be in in a little while."

  Lana dressed for bed and opened the windows to let the evening breeze through. After she crawled under the covers, she lay there, staring at the ceiling as she thought about the conversation over dinner. There were so many things Liam hadn't told her about his family. She didn't know he was wealthy or that his family had slaves. That bothered her most of all. First Two Hawks and now Liam seemed to think slavery was all right. Maybe she was the one who was wrong.

  Turning over on her side, wishing her mind would hush, she heard footsteps outside on the porch. There was a soft knock on their door, which Liam answered.

  "Dad, come in."

  "No. Come outside where we can talk."

  "All right." Liam closed the door behind him and the two men stood beside the bedroom window, unaware that it was open.

  "Are your quarters all right?"

  "Yes, son. Everything is fine. Your mother and sister have turned in for the night."

  "Good. You sure you don't want to come in?"

  "No. I don't want to disturb your wife."

  "What is it, Dad? Something's on your mind."

  "Yes, there is." Patrick looked steadily at his son for a moment before he began. "You know how very proud I am of you. West Point. Army officer. I don't have any buttons left on my shirts. Someone says your name or asks about you and I just pop them off."

  The two men chuckled at that. "But your mother and I are concerned - very concerned - about your choice for a wife."

  Chapter 36 - Are We Clear?

  "Concerned? Why?" Liam asked, sounding perplexed.

  "She's not the type we'd hoped you'd marry."

  "Not the type? What type was I suppose to marry?" Liam scowled.

  "Someone with more than an eighth grade education. Someone raised around culture and society who could help you further a political career once you left the Army."

  "Oh, for goodness sake!" Liam looked across the compound and then back to his father. "Does the fact that I'm so in love with her I can't breathe make any difference at all to you?"

  "So, you love her. Good for you. But you didn't have to marry her. Have your fling here in Texas and then, when you get home, marry the right woman."

  "My fling!" Liam was past irritated and now at full-bore angry. "How dare you talk about her like that!"

  "Liam, face it. She was with the Apaches for over a week. You know she was raped. Had to be." Patrick knew the shame and stigma that people - voters - would at
tach to his son over this.

  "I know for a fact that she wasn't. I am the first man she's ever had."

  "If you say so."

  "You sound like you don't believe me."

  "I think you'd say anything to defend your choice," his father countered heatedly.

  "I need to go in now, before I say something we'll both regret," Liam snarled.

  "Son, I'm just looking out for your best interest."

  "Good night!" Liam stepped into his house, slamming the door behind him. Cursing under his breath, he came into the bedroom only to see Lana sitting up, knees to chin, arms around knees, sobbing.

  "Oh, damn! Did you hear that?" he asked. She nodded and pointed to the open window. Liam threw his head back, furious at his father. Walking over to her, he sat on the edge of the bed and drew her to him.

  "Honey, I am so sorry. So terribly sorry. My father can be such an insensitive, belligerent bully. He had no right to say those things about you. And I promise, I will get this all straightened out in the morning."

  He lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. "Please, Lana, please don't let them make you cry. I can't stand it."

  Grabbing his shirt with both hands, she jumped into his arms, sobbing. "They hate me. They all hate me. Your mother - Mary - all of them. I'm not good enough for you. I wish I was dead!"

  Liam rocked her back and forth, holding her while she cried. His family would pay, and pay dearly, for hurting her like this. No one made her cry. No one.

  "Sweetheart, baby, if you die, then kill me, too. Because I can't live without you. Do you hear me? I love you so much. And they're not good enough for you. I'm sorry they ever showed up!"

  "You shouldn't say that," she huff-huffed against his chest. "They're your family. They love you."

  "You're my family," he whispered. He laid her back on the bed and began loving her tears away with his caresses and kisses and velvet hands in the night.

  * * *

  Two Hawks' eyes jerked open, jarring him out of a deep sleep. Sweat beaded his forehead, his heart raced; his blanket lay in a tormented twist. He looked around at the sleeping warriors to make sure he hadn't awakened them. It was the dream, again. Her dream. T'on Ma had been calling to him, crying for him. Even awake, he could feel the sorrow in her voice. What was wrong? Why wouldn't his heart let her go? She had chosen another. Frowning, he turned angrily on his side, folded his arms across his chest and tried to find sleep.