Journey of the Heart

by Mills, DiAnn; Darty, Peggy;

  “Trust Me, Katie.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The chill in the air, the festivities of Christmas, and all the excitement of the wedding lifted Katie and Peyton’s spirits. Neither wanted to concentrate on the gravity of the situation before them or discuss it. Ignoring Lone Eagle did not eliminate the problem, it merely postponed it. The Kiowa would arrive soon enough with the warrior’s message. Katie decided to enjoy the celebrations of the season and the preparations for their new home as long as possible. She repeatedly told herself it did little good to worry and decided to say nothing unless Peyton mentioned it. Except each time Peyton wanted to speak of it, she refused to discuss it. Denial had never been a part of her makeup, but she felt compelled to push their problems away.

  The two worked side by side preparing the cabin. With Miles and Lauren’s help, they replaced the roof and muddied up the sides to keep out the cold. But there were times Peyton drifted into silence, and she didn’t question his moods. They shared the same fears.

  “I think we should name all our children from people in the Bible,” Katie suggested one evening as they finished sealing the cracks inside the cabin. Peyton had built a fire, and the small structure felt warm and comfortable.

  “Well, I had a different idea,” he said.

  She stopped with her small bucket of mud mixed with straw and eyed him curiously. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I was thinking that I wanted our children to always remember their mother and grandfather once lived with the Indians,” he said, continuing his work.

  “And?”

  “So I would like to name them after Indian tribes. The first one we’d call Comanche, then Apache—that sounds good for a girl, ah yes, and Kiowa, Sioux—another girl’s name, Navajo, Blackfoot, Cheyenne, and on until we get a dozen or so.”

  She stood speechless. “Peyton, are you crazy? Why ever would you want to give a child such a name?”

  “I like the sound of ’em. You know, those names just seem to roll off the tongue. For certain, all the folks would know the Sinclair children.”

  “That’s for sure,” Katie said. “Let’s talk about this. I bet we could come up with good names that both of us would like.”

  “Nope, my mind is made up,” Peyton said with his back to her. “I’ve already entered a few in my Bible.”

  “No, you haven’t. You’re tormenting me again. You should be ashamed.”

  “Me?” Peyton whirled around with mud on his fingers and a glint in his eye. “I have more: Caddo, Iroquois, Cherokee…”

  “You will never be able to convince me of those names,” she said in pretended annoyance.

  Peyton stepped closer, threatening her with mud-covered fingers, but he stole a kiss instead. “I might reconsider after the first dozen.”

  Katie insisted upon helping Martha and Lauren with school during the mornings. The children made gifts for their parents, and one morning they all made sugar cookies. They rehearsed Christmas carols to sing on Christmas Eve as a part of the wedding and again later for church services. Their sweet voices always brought tears to Katie’s eyes, even when the bigger boys grumbled about singing. During lunch she hurried back to the cabin while Jacob stayed with the other students until midafternoon. The hours sped by quickly as she and Aunt Elizabeth took turns caring for Emily, discussing the wedding, and tending to chores.

  This morning Martha and Lauren insisted Katie return home and work on sewing projects for her new home. Martha reminded her there were only days left until the wedding. The cabin still needed work, and she looked tired. Needless to say, many items remained to be stitched and sewn.

  Katie lifted the latch on the Colter cabin and quietly stepped inside. She had so many things on her mind, and Emily might be resting. She heard the sound of voices in her aunt and uncle’s bedroom. It seemed odd for her uncle to be home in the middle of the day. Unlike other settlers at the fort, his position as blacksmith kept him busy while others searched for chores to keep occupied. Katie hoped he had not become ill.

  “Seth, you can’t put this off any longer,” Aunt Elizabeth said. “She needs to be told the truth.”

  “I know, I know, but you have no idea what you’re asking of me.” His words were spoken as though he were tired or ill.

  “I realize you have lived with this for over seventeen years,” Aunt Elizabeth said. “But it’s time to put the past behind you. Katie loves you, just as you love her.”

  “She will despise me if I tell her the truth. She thinks I’m a God-fearing man, when in fact I’m vile and loathsome.”

  “No, you’re not,” her aunt said. “You’re good and kind and decent. Seth Colter, don’t let the guilt hurt you any longer. This thing has eaten at you for too long. It’s time to get it out in the open. Both of you love each other, and God will work it out.”

  “She’s about to be married,” he said. “Why do I need to tell her at all? She’ll have a husband, and they will be gone in the spring.”

  Katie pushed aside the blanket separating the two rooms. “Tell me what, Uncle Seth? What could be so dreadful that you don’t want to tell me?”

  An injured look passed from her uncle to her aunt.

  “I’ll do it,” he whispered to her aunt. “It’s about time I took responsibility for my own mistakes.” He reached for Katie, and she gave him her hand. “We need to talk. There are some things you need to hear.”

  He pointed to the chair, and Katie took her place. A chill had swept across the room, and she pulled the quilt from the back of the chair and laid it across her lap. Once her aunt left the room, he sat on the side of the bed. Lines deepened around his eyes.

  “Uncle Seth, are you ill? Would you like this quilt?” Katie said.

  “No, dear. I’m not ill, at least not in my flesh.”

  She gazed at him, puzzled, and the troubled look on his face caused her more concern.

  “This is hard,” he said. “And there’s no easy way to say it. I won’t make excuses for myself or expect you to understand. I just hope you will be able to forgive me.”

  “Forgive you for what?” Had he and Pa quarreled and never talked it through?

  Uncle Seth leaned slightly toward her, and she saw his eyes moisten. “Jeremiah, my brother…was not your father. I am.”

  His words echoed in her ears, hollow and empty. Her stomach churned, and she drew the quilt up tightly around her. She refused to believe him. Surely he’d made a mistake. How could this be? Jeremiah Colter wasn’t her father! And her mother, so sweet and gentle…What did this mean?

  Uncle Seth must have seen the shock and pain in her face, for he instantly chose to speak. “Child, neither was Mary Colter your mother. Your real mother died of pneumonia before you were six months old.”

  Why wasn’t she ever told? Folks said she looked like Mary and even had some of her mannerisms. Jeremiah and Mary Colter were not her parents? Yes, they were. She knew they were. This had to be a dreadful nightmare. Uncle Seth had made a terrible mistake. How could he explain those years Pa raised her by himself? If she didn’t belong to him, then why didn’t he send her to Seth and Elizabeth when her mother died? If her uncle spoke the truth, then why hadn’t Jeremiah told her about it? She was grown and had the right to know. Why did Pa speak of rehoboth and not of this horrible revelation?

  She lifted her chin and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. I’m so confused.”

  “I should have told you the truth when you came to live with us, but I feared losing you.”

  She took a deep breath. “How did this happen? Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?”

  He shook his head as though denying the past. “I promised not to ever interfere with your life—never claim you as my daughter. I didn’t think anything would ever happen to Mary and Jeremiah to leave you alone.”

  “Please, will you explain it all to me?” She needed to know the truth without delay.

  Silence followed, and she fought
the twisting and turning in the pit of her stomach. She looked into the face of her uncle, a face marred with sadness. He sighed deeply, and his eyes cast a faraway glance. He appeared to look through her to another time and place.

  “The first time I met your mother was on Mary and Jeremiah’s wedding day. Mary introduced Hannah as her younger sister, and I instantly fell in love with the most beautiful girl in the world. I’ll never forget the first time I looked into those huge jade green eyes and met that sweet smile. She looked like an angel straight from heaven’s gate. Katie, every part of you is Hannah, your real mother. Looking at you is like seeing her again for the first time.” With Hannah’s name upon his lips, his face brightened. “Anyway, I wanted to court her proper, but her pa refused until she turned sixteen. For weeks I marked off the days until I could start seein’ her. She became the reason I lived and breathed. I couldn’t think or talk for thinking about her. Soon afterwards I asked her pa if we could marry, but he said we would have to wait until she reached seventeen. Again, I began marking off those weeks until her birthday. At last we were married, and our lives seemed perfect. I thought we were the happiest two people on earth.”

  Uncle Seth struggled to gain composure. Her own feelings oscillated from anger to hurt, but when she saw the agony etched across Seth’s face, compassion overcame any desire to hurl accusations.

  “Please go on,” Katie said, swallowing her tears. “Not just what you think I should hear, but all of it. If you are my real father, then I must know what happened. All my life, they told me they loved me. Neither of them ever let on that I wasn’t their own child.”

  “They did love you, Katie. Don’t you ever doubt Jeremiah and Mary’s devotion to you. I remember the day you were born. Why, those two were as happy as we were. Then my Hannah took sick with a cold and fever. Then it got worse. Before long, she couldn’t get out of bed. One morning I woke up and Hannah lay beside me, not breathing but cold and still. I wanted to die myself. I turned my back on everything in this life, including you. In those days, I didn’t know Jesus, so I blamed God for all my heartache. Child, every day you looked more like your mother, and instead of seeing it as a blessing, I saw it as an ugly reminder of not having Hannah. I took you to Jeremiah and Mary and begged them to raise you. In turn, I promised to never claim you as my daughter. It sounded simple, the best way to handle my grief.

  “Jeremiah had always been the restless type—couldn’t seem to get roots back home. He wanted adventure, and he loved the wild. All the education in the world couldn’t satisfy his longing for it. He wanted to take his family west and carve out a home for them. Mary loved Jeremiah. She was afraid to head out across the wilderness, but she wouldn’t try to stop him. No sooner had they arrived than Jeremiah wrote, asking me to join them. He wanted me to see the beauty of his new home. Jeremiah told me about traveling through mountains and deserts until he found this piece of fertile land along the Teyah River. His letter went on and on about the animals, birds, sunrises, sunsets, the mountains, and his fascination with the Indians. For my benefit, he added that a few families had settled into an area a few miles away, so the territory wasn’t completely desolate. My brother knew my blacksmith abilities would be valuable to those folks. It sounded good to me, so I gathered up my belongings and moved out here. My first reaction to this dangerous land, filled with rattlesnakes and Indians, didn’t compare to Jeremiah’s, but I stayed. Yes, it’s beautiful, but not quite what I had expected. Sometimes I thought he had gone crazy to bring you and Mary to such a godforsaken territory, but Jeremiah had never been happier. He’d made friends with the Comanches, Apaches, and Kiowas. He traded with them so he and Mary weren’t bothered by raids. Some of the other settlers didn’t like his way of mixing with the Indians. They criticized him rather than listened to his way of thinking. As a result, he stopped visiting the settlers, not that I blamed him. It made sense when he spoke of respecting the Indians, and he believed they were smarter than the white man when it came to survival.

  “Both Mary and Jeremiah asked me to move in with them, but I refused. I’d long since regretted giving you to them, and it hurt too much to consider seeing you every day. Besides, I had a business, and folks weren’t about to risk their lives to see a blacksmith. If I wanted to see the three of you, I had to travel to their ranch.” Seth stood from the bed and studied her.

  “I want to hear what happened next,” Katie said.

  He seated himself again, and Katie watched him wrestle with the words and the memories. “Two years later, I met Elizabeth. I don’t know what she saw in me, but thank God she took the time to care. In those days, I was a miserable, short-tempered man, and Hannah still filled my waking and sleeping hours. I had nightmares where she repeatedly called out for you. Guilt began to eat away at me for what I’d done. One night I told Elizabeth the whole truth, and instead of condemning me, she told me about God and His wonderful love. He wanted to forgive my sins and set me free from the guilt and blame of abandoning my daughter. Before the evening ended, Elizabeth led me to Jesus. For the first time, I felt a flow of peace and love that softened my heart and opened my eyes to all the bitterness eating away at me. Elizabeth and I talked for hours. She helped me see that God had decided Hannah needed to be with Him, and it wasn’t my fault or yours. Yet, I would have to abide by the promise I made to allow Jeremiah and Mary to raise you. A few months later, I asked Elizabeth to marry me. Jeremiah and Mary immediately saw the change, and both of them asked questions and studied the Bible. I thanked them for what they were doing for my daughter and asked them to forgive me for all the trouble I’d caused. After Mary died, I wanted you back, but Jeremiah refused. He said you were his, and he would never give you up…and then he died.”

  Silence filled the room. Katie heard the chatter of Jacob, and once Emily cried out, but Seth’s words spun like a child’s toy in her mind.

  “I need some time to myself,” she said, avoiding Seth’s stare.

  “I understand.”

  “I need to think through everything you told me. I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Uncle, I…I mean, goodness, I’m terribly mixed up,” Katie said, fighting to keep her composure. She couldn’t look into his face.

  “Saying I’m sorry isn’t enough, and asking you to forgive me doesn’t seem like enough, either. Reckon I’ll let you alone.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Katie swept the remains of the dirt and debris from the small cabin she would soon call home. Outside the temperatures steadily dropped, and along with the wintry chill fell a heavy blanket of snow. She held her breath against the sharp cold and surveyed the new roof. Miles and Seth had been so good to help Peyton, or the work would not have been completed in time to stop the wind from searching for a hole in the cabin. Inside, the cabin needed only a few more repairs to make it livable for her and Peyton. She should have been elated, but her mood more closely resembled the dark, gray snow clouds lingering above Fort Davis. Stepping back inside to the warmth of the crackling fire, she watched the flames shoot upward as they snatched up dry pieces of wood and consumed them into burning ash.

  “What’s wrong?” Peyton said. He’d been hammering pegs to hang pots, pans, and other items necessary for cooking. Now he gave her his full attention.

  “I can’t keep anything from you,” she said, attempting to sound light, but the weight of her thoughts pulled away the joy she always felt with him. The knowledge of her real parents shouldn’t bother her so, but it did. She examined his work as though her concentration had been solely upon his wooden pegs.

  “Sweetheart, your face shows your feelings.”

  “True Comanches don’t reveal their emotions.”

  “Oh, I can recall many times when you hid behind your stubborn resolve,” he said. “For example, I thought you tolerated me for your uncle’s sake.” He looked at her oddly. “This is serious, isn’t it?”

  She stepped into his arms and slipped her hand
s around his neck. “We need to talk,” she said. “Or maybe I just need for you to listen. A part of me wants to cry and another part wants to scream and shout.”

  “Sit with me by the fire.” He motioned to a buffalo hide spread out beneath him and pulled her to the floor. “Have you heard from the Kiowa?”

  “No, this is completely different from our problem with Lone Eagle,” she said. “Seth told me something earlier today that has me really upset.”

  “I can see you’re grieved about something,” Peyton said, placing his arm around her shoulders. “Are you ready to talk?”

  “I’m going to try,” she said, and she proceeded to tell him about the conversation with the man she’d always thought was her uncle.

  “Do you despise him for what he told you?” he said once she finished.

  “No, I’m not sure what I’m feeling, but it’s not hate. Look at all the good he’s done for me. I couldn’t even begin to list all those things. Without him, I wouldn’t have received Jesus into my life or understood many Bible passages. He has fed me and clothed me—asking nothing in return. And Peyton, you are the only man he gave permission to come calling. I guess I’m saddened to learn the perfect picture of my parents is tainted.” She drew in a breath. “Or is it tainted at all? I’ve had two sets of parents. How am I supposed to react to this information?”

  “Are you looking for someone to blame because you weren’t told the truth?”

  “Maybe, but I care about all of them. That’s the worst of the problem. I can’t seem to think things through.” Katie rested her head on his shoulder.

  “How do you feel about Jeremiah?”

  How dear that his questioning was to help her sort out her own feelings “I loved him. He raised me as his own daughter and always told me how proud he was of me. He used to call me his Indian princess.”