Thanksgiving In Clover Springs

by Rachel Wesson

  “Asha was upset so she went to her room. Wilma followed soon after. Why?” Ellen stood up from the table to get him a cup of coffee.

  “Just heard from the sheriff. He said he had a telegram warning him the soldiers are planning to come back. Seems this captain really wants Asha back on the reservation.”

  “What did the sheriff suggest we do?”

  “He didn’t say anything. He just told me to warn you.”

  “We can’t tell Asha. I will talk to Wilma and let her know, but Asha is far too advanced in her pregnancy to be put under this much stress,” Ellen said, her hands pulling at a loose thread on her skirt.

  “Wish Little Beaver were here.”

  “So do I, little brother, so do I.”

  Wilma spotted Aaron walking down the street in the direction of the school. She called out to him but he didn’t hear her. She walked quicker wishing she could wear similar clothes to Asha. A tunic and leggings would make traveling so much easier. She laughed as she spotted Mrs. Shaw and Ida Hawthorn. Picturing those two ladies wearing tunics and moccasins sent her into peals of giggles. The townsfolk looked at her strangely but they didn’t stop to engage her. Catching her breath, she had to wait for a wagon full of lumber to pass before she could cross the street. Aaron had disappeared. Darn it anyway, I wanted to know how Miss Laura and her baby were doin. I miss being able to drive out to the ranch.

  She kept walking hoping she would spot him further ahead. Was he checking on the school? Surely Ben and the other children had stayed home given the reports about the weather. As she suspected the school was closed. Maybe he had called in on the Rev. She climbed the steps of the church, stopping to catch her breath. All that sitting around in the orphanage is making you old before your time girl. You need to be more active.

  She was about to announce her presence when she heard Aaron and the Reverend speaking. She hung back in the shadows.

  “Reverend Tim, can you marry Asha and me? I mean her not being a Christian as such.” Aaron’s voice quivered.

  “I didn’t know you were courting. There is quite a large age difference.” Reverend Tim pulled at his collar.

  “I got to marry her Rev. The soldiers will take her back to the reservation otherwise. It’s for her own good.”

  Reverend Tim contemplated Aaron silently for a couple of seconds. “What about you Aaron? Your ma told me you fancied getting married and settling down yourself. Last thing I heard you were going to file a claim.”

  “I can still do that.” Aaron swallowed hard. “Sure, it’s not like I planned but can’t you see. I got to do this. Little Beaver, he loves that girl and we owe him.”

  “Owing someone is not the basis of a good strong marriage Aaron. I understand. I admire your motivation but it’s not something I can agree with. For a start, the girl is a bit young to get married.”

  “She’s not some innocent schoolgirl Rev. We all know what happened to her on that reservation. I would be protecting her.”

  “Again, admirable reasons but not sufficient for making a marriage work.” At Aaron’s sigh, the Reverend continued softly. “Now if you were to tell me you had developed real feelings for the girl, it would be different. Asha has been through enough suffering for one lifetime. Trapping her in a loveless marriage isn’t the answer.”

  “I like her but I don’t know her. Not yet. She won’t talk to me. But it don’t matter none. The fact is she’s in danger. She’s better alive ain’t she?”

  Reverend Tim didn’t argue.

  “Does Asha return Little Beaver’s feelings?”

  Aaron’s eyes opened wider. “I don’t know. I didn’t think about that.”

  “I think you should agree to it, Reverend.”

  Wilma’s voice alerted both men to her presence. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. Asha needs protecting. Those soldiers have a real bee in their bonnet over taking her back. Only marrying a white man can save her now. It might as well be him as anyone else.”

  “Gee, thanks a lot, Wilma. I have never done nothing to you.”

  “I know that, Mr. Aaron. It weren’t personal. But whoever marries Asha needs to forget about her heart. That’s been taken.”

  “You believe the girl returns Little Beaver’s feelings, Wilma?”

  “Clear as the nose on your face, Reverend. If we lived in any other times, I would bash their heads together and drag them both to the church to get married. But Lord knows these are difficult times. It ain't the way it should be but it’s no use to anyone to be right and buried six feet under. We all know those soldiers would kill Little Beaver if they got any excuse. He can’t protect Asha. Mr. Aaron can. If he’s willing, then we shouldn’t stop it.”

  Reverend Timmons closed his eyes leaving Aaron and Wilma staring at him. “I guess God would sanctify a marriage for the sake of saving a life.”

  “More likely a few of them. Little Beaver ain't going to let anyone take Asha back to the reservation. He’s likely to kill some soldiers before they get a chance to get him.”

  “Enough, Wilma. You convinced me. So, Aaron, when do you want the ceremony to take place?”

  “As soon as you can, Reverend. Little Beaver is out of town and it’s best done before he gets back,” Wilma answered, leaving Aaron openmouthed. “Close your mouth before you done catch some flies. You going to stand here all day, or you going to tell your ma to prepare a wedding breakfast?”

  Aaron stammered a quick thank you to the Reverend before leaving in a hurry.

  Reverend Tim sighed.

  “You feeling alright, Reverend?”

  “I never thought I would have to marry a girl to save her life and break the heart of a fine man in the process. I don’t think Little Beaver will ever forgive me.”

  “That’s as may be. But one thing for sure, that girl needs a man to stop those soldiers. At least Aaron will treat her kindly.”

  “Are you always this pragmatic, Wilma?”

  “I ain't sure I know what that means, Reverend, but one thing I know. There is a lot of ugliness in this world and its best fought one little piece at a time.”

  Chapter 29

  Samuel threw the reins over the post at the front of his ma’s house. Aaron had asked him to come to dinner. Something about Ma needing to talk to them both. Samuel wondered if Ma had carried out her promise to contact the bride lady in Boston to find a wife for Aaron. He didn’t think his brother would be too upset. He’d been moaning about sharing the bunkhouse with the other hands more often. Samuel couldn’t blame him. He loved being married. The only thing blighting his happiness was the feeling he had let Ellen down. His wife deserved the best of everything but with his injuries they struggled to get by. He shouldn’t complain. If it weren’t for the Sullivans’ generosity they would be much worse off. Put a smile on your face and go in to see your ma. She has enough to worry about without seeing you miserable.

  He pushed the door open savoring the aroma coming from the kitchen. He loved Ellen but he missed his ma’s cooking.

  “Samuel, what you doing here? Is something wrong?”

  Samuel burst out laughing. “You told me to come. I should be asking you that question.”

  A confused expression crossed his ma’s face. “But I didn’t… did I? These days I am a mite forgetful but I wouldn’t forget that. Good job I made extra. Aaron told me some of the boys would be back late and would appreciate a hot meal.”

  Aaron. His brother had called this meeting. Now he was curious. Had he found a bride by himself? Samuel dismissed that thought. The only single woman for miles around was Ida Hawthorn and his brother wasn’t that desperate. Was he?

  Aaron came in the door wiping his hands down his pants. There was something shifty about him. He looked nervous. Oh what has he done? Surely he’s not going gold mining. He’d break Ma’s heart.

  “Ma can’t remember inviting me for dinner. Funny that, don’t you reckon?” Samuel greeted his brother.

  “I had to get you out here.
I needed to speak to you. The two of you. Alone.”

  “Oh that don’t sound good. Are you leaving us son?”

  “Don’t fret Ma. I ain’t leaving Clover Springs. Why don’t we enjoy a family dinner like the old days and then we can talk over desert?”

  Ma looked like she was going to argue but changed her mind. She dished up three plates of food. Samuel almost drooled. His favorites. Cornbread with jelly, steaks, potatoes, squash and carrots glazed with butter just how he liked them. He could smell pumpkin pie for afterwards. He wasn’t about to put off a feast like this. Aaron’s news could wait.

  Samuel and his ma chatted about this, and that but Aaron stayed silent all through the meal. Samuel cleared the dinner plates while his ma cut the pie, serving it with cream. She put the coffee pot in the center of the table.

  “What’s on your mind, Son?” Ma asked as she lifted her spoon to take a bite of her pie.

  “I’m getting wed.”

  Ma’s spoon clattered to the table. “Married? To who? I ain’t seen you courting anyone.”

  Samuel didn’t say anything. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. Ma wasn’t going to like it.

  “Asha,” Aaron said before he put a spoon full of pie in his mouth. “This is good, Ma. Best I’ve had in ages.”

  “Don’t you flannel me. You can’t just announce you is marrying a heathen and expect me to accept it. She’s pregnant with another man’s baby.”

  “I know, Ma, but we are getting married.”

  Ma opened her mouth but couldn’t get the words out. Samuel signaled to her to be quiet.

  “What Ma is trying to ask, is have you thought this through?”

  “Yup.” Aaron kept eating his pie as if oblivious to the chaos he had instigated.

  “Have you asked Asha? Has she agreed?”

  “Not yet. The Reverend has said he will do it. I had to check with him before I asked her.”

  “Wait till I get my hands on that man. He can’t marry you to an….”

  “I thought you liked Asha. You kept telling us how horrible it was what happened to her.”

  “Yes I do. And it was. But liking her ain’t the same as wanting her in the family.”

  “Ma.” Both men chorused.

  “Don’t you Ma me. Marriage is hard enough when you marry your own kind. Marrying someone from another culture that’s just asking for trouble.

  “I already heard that in town. I ain't listening, Ma. Assuming Asha agrees, me and her will be man and wife and that’s all there is to it.”

  “Why, Aaron? This is all very sudden.” Samuel played with his spoon for a minute. “You know something we don’t?”

  The crimson blush making its way over his brother’s neck told him he’d hit a nerve.

  “What is it?”

  “The soldiers are coming back to take her to the reservation. They said she can’t have her baby here in Clover Springs. The only way to keep her here, safe, is if she marries a white man.” Aaron stood to take his dish to the sink. “And that’s me. I hope to see you both there.”

  “Aaron, cool down and take a seat. Ma just got a shock. You know she’d welcome any wife of yours.” Samuel waited for his ma to add her bit but she seemed to be lost in her own world. “Ain't that right, Ma?”

  “What? Oh yes, of course. Asha is a sweet girl.”

  ‘For an Indian.”

  “That’s not what I meant, Son, and remember your manners. I am not against Indians. I think the world of Little Beaver, you know that. I just think you should marry your own kind. Look at Lawrence and Emer Shipley.”

  “Them two are happy.”

  “Yes they are. For now. But the cost was huge. Lawrence lost his entire family making the decision to marry Emer. I know she finds it hard adjusting to his lifestyle too.”

  “Ma, now you are being old fashioned.” His ma looked upset now. Swiftly he brought the subject back to Aaron and his impending wedding.

  “Aaron, you can’t do this. You know the soldiers won’t believe you actually married her.”

  “They will if they are at the ceremony.”

  “The ceremony? Are you mad? You can’t marry Asha. She loves Little Beaver.”

  “I know that. But he ain’t here,” Aaron spat out. “It’s the only way to keep her safe. As the wife of a white man, she can stay in Clover Springs. If she doesn’t marry me, she will have to return with the soldiers. We know what will happen to her then.”

  “Son, have you thought hard about this? I appreciate what you are trying to do for that young girl. It’s a mighty noble idea but what of your future. Do you not want a wife and family of your own?”

  Aaron didn’t look up. “I will have a wife.”

  “Son, I meant…”

  “I know what you meant, Ma. But we owe Little Beaver. If it wasn’t for him and Nandita, Samuel wouldn’t be here.”

  At the look on Ma’s face, Samuel saw Aaron’s argument had struck home. They did owe the Indians but this wasn’t the right repayment. Little Beaver wouldn’t thank Aaron for taking his woman regardless of the reason.

  Chapter 30

  Little Beaver knew they weren’t far behind him. The soldiers should have been easier to lose but their Indian scout was almost as good a tracker as he was. Especially when Little Beaver had left him signs on purpose.

  He hurried forward, cursing his wounded arm while thankful he had taken the brunt of the fall and not the loyal animal beneath him. The weather was on his side though. Judging by the grey skies, the valley would soon be white. He had to make the rendezvous before the US Army. The white men’s voices carried on the wind.

  “We need to turn back. We are low on provisions. We can come back another day and catch him.”

  “No. We don’t return without him.” The officer’s voice carried on the wind.

  That was him. The man who had abused Asha. The man would die before the day was out. Little Beaver stayed hidden.

  “But, Sir, the men….”

  “Are you refusing an order, Mulligan?”

  The silence lasted a couple of seconds before the voice answered, “No, Sir.”

  “There is a good camping ground a little way ahead. It will provide shelter from the storm for the horses.” The Indian’s English was broken and his voice louder than usual.

  Little Beaver smiled but his smile didn’t warm up his eyes.

  He trudged onward admiring the intricate patterns of ice falling around him. The mountain gleamed with its new white cover, no hint of the dangers the snow concealed. Were the soldiers used to this type of weather? He didn’t think so. They weren’t as familiar with the terrain, whereas he knew these forests like the back of his hands. He had spent hours as a child climbing, running and hunting in these trees. As long as the heavy snow, what the white folk called a blizzard stayed away, he would be safe.

  “What is it now, Sergeant?”

  “Sir, you heard the warnings about blizzards expected in this area. We should seek shelter, the snow is getting heavier.”

  “We can shelter in the town if it becomes too heavy. If you stop again, it will cost you a stripe.”

  Relieved the officer wasn’t listening to the sergeant, Little Beaver continued moving. The sergeant was right. If the wind kept up and the snow became much heavier, the soldiers would lose all sense of bearings. They would have heard the stories of homesteaders freezing to death because they couldn’t find the way from their barn to the door of their home. Nervous soldiers wouldn’t be on their guard against attack. The Great Spirit must approve of my plan for revenge by sending this weather to help me.

  He urged the horse to move faster, ignoring the dart of pain running down his arm. Soon he was at the cave system. He dismounted carefully, all the while speaking softly to the horse. She was skittish, perhaps sensing unseen dangers around them. Could there be a mountain lion or other wild animal also taking shelter in the caves? He didn’t have time to worry about that now. He reassured the horse she would be safe be
fore drawing her further into the shelter. He couldn’t risk her being spotted. Ensuring she had sufficient water and some food, he turned back the way he had come.

  Little Beaver crawled along the ledge. His view was as clear as he could have given the weather. He was hidden so anyone looking up wouldn’t see him. It was the reason he had chosen this spot.

  He waited patiently watching the soldiers prepare for nightfall. The Indian scout had set the wooden logs he collected for the fire in a certain way. The signal telling Little Beaver he was aware of him and the number of sentries on duty. Little Beaver signaled back. Only the slight movement of the scout’s shoulders showed he understood.

  As he waited he reflected on the advice his family and friends gave him. He knew it was wrong to harm the other soldiers. If he killed an innocent man, he was no better than the savage they thought he was.

  But he couldn’t let the officer responsible for hurting Asha live. Her pain and suffering deserved to be recognized and repaid. He went over the plan in his head once more. He had thought of approaching each sentry and giving the man a chance to leave but figured all soldiers would obey their commanding officer. They would be quicker to shoot an Indian than to listen to reason. Therefore, he had to wait until daylight. Then he would make his presence known. What happened next was in the hands of the Great Spirit.

  The icy wind was growing stronger. He stamped his feet, trying to get the blood flowing back to his toes. At least he was wrapped in animal skins, the men below wore their cavalry blues. Their coats were no match for the weather.

  They will all freeze to death. It is not my fault. Yes it is. They are only here because they are hunting me. They deserve it. They shouldn’t be treating innocent people like wild animals. Over and over his thoughts battled in his brain. His need for vengeance battled with his conscience.

  Murphy, Miles and Clayton were down there. They were good men and had families back at the reservation. Well, Miles and Clayton did, Murphy’s wife had succumbed to the influenza in the last outbreak. The medicine man had offered to help her but Yellow Hair threatened to shoot him if he laid a hand on a white woman. Murphy had tried to get Mulligan, the sergeant to talk the officer into accepting the help but he wouldn’t. Soon after, the lady died along with her unborn baby.