Thanksgiving In Clover Springs

by Rachel Wesson

  Little Beaver didn’t comment. He wasn’t sure how old men found wives in the white man’s world. There weren’t enough women for the young men in Clover Springs.

  “You watch your back. He won’t ever forgive you for this.”

  “You too. He suspects you were involved.” Little Beaver retorted.

  “Suspecting and proving is two different things. The men won’t turn on me. They may not like me all the time but they hate him. All apart from Wakefield but he is too lily livered to say anything.”

  Little Beaver hoped for the man’s sake he was right. In his experience a weak, cowardly man was often the most dangerous enemy.

  He wondered what Asha was doing? Had she had the baby? He had used the time in the mountains to pray to the Wise One for guidance to accept her decision. It was her life and he must let her make her own choices. It was easy to accept that in the mountain, more difficult as he came closer to going home.

  Chapter 34

  Asha prayed for Little Beaver to return but her prayers went unanswered. She spoke to Nandita. She agreed with Wilma, the only solution was to marry Aaron. Both women kept reminding Asha of the sacrifice Aaron was making. She didn’t want to be safe or a burden. She wanted a world where she could marry the man she loved. When she tried to back out of the wedding, Nandita spoke to her quite sharply reminding her there was no other solution to her dilemma. She couldn’t remain in Clover Springs unless she married, she couldn’t return to her own people. There was no other way.

  The day of the wedding dawned. A weak winter sun made the snow glisten. It would have been an incredibly romantic day for the ceremony but for the fact the bride looked as if she was attending her own funeral. Nandita had made her a new tunic and moccasins to mark the occasion. Her jet black braids framed her pretty face, her eyes clouds of hurt.

  “I know it ain't what you dreamed of, child. At least this ways you and the babe will be safe. You got a good man too. In time you might come to care for him.”

  Asha raised her large brown eyes to look up at Wilma. “I know, Wilma. It’s just that…” She looked toward the mountain unable to continue talking.

  Wilma followed her glance. Little Beaver had been gone for days. They hadn’t heard anything since news filtered in the soldiers were chasing after Indian fugitives believed to be hiding in the mountains. She hoped he was safe, but much as it pained her to admit it, maybe it was best if he never returned.

  “I know your heart is taken, child. But your love for him sets him free. He would die to save you and then you might as well be dead.” Wilma shuddered as a chill crept down her spine. The memories hit her when she least expected.

  She put her arm around Asha’s shoulders. “You can do this. You got to, for the sake of your child. There ain't nothing like a momma’s love for her baby. You listen to ole Wilma now, child.”

  Asha managed a small smile. With one last look toward the mountain, she drew her back straighter and walked purposefully into the church.

  The church wasn’t full due in part to the cold weather. It was easier to blame the climate rather than face the simmering resentment some townsfolk still harbored towards Asha and her kind. Reverend Timmons welcomed everyone before asking them to take their seats to let the ceremony begin. Frank walked Asha down the aisle before placing her small hand in Aaron’s.

  Wilma watched Aaron carefully from her seat near Mrs. Higgins, who was already weeping noisily into her hanky. Dear God if you is up there, please look after Mr. Aaron. Don’t let what is in his heart turn ugly if Asha continues to love another. Please God keep this little family safe.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to celebrate the marriage of Aaron and Asha. Let us start by remembering what marriage is. It is a sign of unity and loyalty which all should uphold and honor. No one should enter it lightly or selfishly but reverently and responsibly in the sight of our Almighty God.” Reverend Tim’s soft voice carried through the church.

  “Excuse me, Reverend, but that ain’t what is happening here. She’s not even Christian is she? How can she promise anything to a God she don’t believe in?”

  “Sit down and shut up, Charlie,” Davy Sullivan said loudly causing Reverend Tim to glare at him. “Sorry, Reverend. I forgot I was in church.”

  People laughed but it was a nervous sound rather than gleeful.

  “I don’t take orders from Sullivan. There’s only one reason this marriage is taking place and that’s to stop the soldiers taking that girl back to her rightful place.”

  “Staunton, that girl you refer to is about to become my wife. You mind your manners.” Aaron let Asha’s hand fall as he turned to face Charlie Staunton head on.

  “Are you going to make me? Isn’t it bad enough your ma is saddled with a crippled son? You are going to add a legacy of half-breed brats to her sorrows. No wonder she’s crying.”

  “Mr. Staunton. How dare you?” Bertha Higgins stood up, her hands on her hips. “Good job I ain’t got a saucepan nearby or it would be sitting on your head. For your information, the girl’s name is Asha. She is a welcome addition to the Higgins’s family. And I always cry at weddings.”

  “Sit down, Ma, and leave this to the men.” Aaron said not unkindly.

  “This is the house of the Lord. All of you take your seats and be quiet,” Reverend Timmons roared causing everyone to sit down in shock. Their calm gentle minister rarely, if ever, raised his voice and certainly didn’t shout.

  Wilma watched Asha closely, seeing her mixed emotions clouding her beautiful face. They should have had a private wedding with witnesses but then the soldiers might not believe the marriage was valid.

  “I do not want any more interruptions, do you hear me? Unless someone has a valid reason why this marriage should not proceed.” Reverend Tim glared at Charlie who had remained standing but sat back down quickly.

  “As I was saying, marriage is a lifelong commitment made by two people not only to each other but to—”

  “Stop the ceremony.” The sheriff burst into the church, panting loudly as he struggled for breath. Mrs. Grey jumped to her feet and led him to a chair, fanning his reddened face.

  “I got to stop the wedding. Read this.” He thrust a telegram into Mrs. Grey’s hands before sitting with his head down between his knees trying to stop the wheezing.

  Mrs. Grey handed the telegram – unread – to the Reverend then told one of the children to fetch some water before bending down to unbutton the sheriff’s collar.

  “Is he alright, Mrs. Grey?” Davy asked.

  “Looks like he ran all the way down the street. Doc told him he got to lose some weight if he wants to run like a young one. He will be fine in a minute. What’s it say?”

  Reverend Tim read the telegram before passing it to Aaron. His face turned white as he sat down suddenly in the chair.

  “What is it? What is wrong?” Asha asked as Wilma pushed her way through the townsfolk to get to her.

  “You don’t got to marry me no more.” Aaron said quietly.

  “Are they sending me back?” Asha’s horrified tone caused the townsfolk to fall silent.

  All except Staunton. “About time and all.” As people turned to glare at him, he shrugged. “I’m only saying what you lot are thinking but too chicken to say.”

  “Shut up Staunton.” Frank growled.

  Reverend Tim didn’t react to Frank’s remark, his whole attention focused on the couple in front of them. Wilma had reached Asha and was holding her close. Ma Higgins had made her way to Aaron’s side as had Samuel.

  “What’s it say, Reverend?” Mrs. Higgins asked.

  “It says Asha is free to stay in Clover Springs. Seems the sheriff has connections in high places. Her safety and that of her babe are guaranteed.”

  Wilma swung Asha in a big hug, spinning the girl off the floor before Asha pushed her away. Despite her large stomach, the young Indian knelt in front of Aaron pushing his hair back from his eyes with one hand, her other holding his hands. “I am
sorry you are hurt. Your heart is big and strong. You are a good man. You deserve to find someone who loves you as much as…”

  She couldn’t continue, her pent up emotions finally escaping. Aaron helped her to her feet, supporting her with one arm until she sat down. Wilma came to sit beside her in time to hear Aaron say. “Little Beaver is lucky to have an amazing woman like you in his life. Lift your head high, Asha, and never be afraid again. Your friends in Clover Springs will always be here for you and the baby.”

  Wilma’s throat hurt as she swallowed hard. Aaron Higgins was a good man.

  Other people were also standing around, talking. Charlie Staunton was spouting some ugly opinions. She didn’t want Asha to hear. She wasn’t sure how much of it she would understand but still. It was best she get her home.

  “Asha, child, it’s best we get you home. You need to rest. I thought you would be happy, child. Now you can stay in Clover Springs. You, your baby and Little Beaver.”

  “He has gone. He will never come back. It’s been days and days with no word.”

  Despite wanting to disagree, Wilma couldn’t. She had no idea what had happened to Little Beaver but the continued silence didn’t bode well.

  “Come on, child, let’s go home.”

  Chapter 35

  Wilma pushed the sizzling bacon around the pan, the smell of it bringing John and Rosa to the kitchen table.

  “I’m hungry,” Rosa said, her brother nodding in agreement.

  “Let me see your hands first. Are they clean?”

  Rosa and John held out their hands for inspection. Only when Wilma was satisfied, could they sit down at the table. Samuel said Grace before they all tucked into breakfast.

  “I’m glad we decided to eat together as one big family,” Samuel muttered, his mouth full of pancakes.

  “You’re glad because you get to eat Wilma’s pancakes and not mine. Wilma, you have to teach me how you get these so fluffy.”

  ‘I would, Miss Ellen, but you ain’t never sit still long enough to listen. You are always going here or there.”

  Asha loved Wilma’s pancakes. She’d been reluctant to try them when she first arrived but now regularly had second helpings, all covered in syrup.

  “Any news from your daddy, Miss Ellen? I heard Miss Katie at the door earlier but she was gone before I got time to offer her a cup of coffee.”

  “She ran over to tell me there was no post. We both thought we would hear from Daddy or Liam by now. There must be something wrong.”

  “Now don’t go saying that. You know as well as I do, with the weather this bad, the ships won’t be crossing the ocean as often. You will hear from Liam or your daddy in no time at all. Don’t you fret.”

  Wilma sat a plate piled high with bacon in the middle of the table.

  “Has she heard from Father Molloy? I want to know what took him back to Boston in such a hurry.”

  “I wish he hadn’t left. I miss him,” Rosa said, a big tear sliding down her cheek.

  “I do too, Rosa,” Ellen said.

  Asha hadn’t met the people they were talking about. She didn’t like the sad looks on her friends’ faces though. She tried to find a way to cheer them up.

  “Wilma, you said we had to make party.”

  Everyone laughed. Asha knew it was her way of speaking but at least she had achieved her aim. She smiled too.

  “It’s Thanksgiving next week. We are all going to the Sullivan ranch for a huge party. Daniel’s friend, Terence Williams, is looking after the store so Katie and her family can come too.”

  “Miss Mary is so excited. She and Mrs. H are cooking up a feast. I think it’s fitting Nandita and her family will be there.”

  “Why, Wilma?” John asked.

  “Thanksgiving started with the Indians and the Pilgrims. Do some people in this town good to remember that.”

  “Forget about educating Staunton and his friends. They believe what they want to believe,” Samuel said sadly.

  “My tribe do not have this feast?” Asha shook her head.

  “Well, they should. But then again maybe not. They don’t have much to be thankful for this year. Our government could learn from history. Rumor has it back in 1621, the Pilgrims, they came from England, invited the local Native Americans to a harvest feast.”

  “Why?”

  “Seems the year before many of the pilgrims died. More would have starved to death but the local Indians, the Wampanoag tribe, taught the Pilgrims how to catch fish and collect seafood. They also showed them how to grow corn, beans and squash.”

  “So we can blame the Indians for having to eat so many beans?” Samuel said joking.

  “I think it is sad. The Native Americans came to the aid of the Irish in the famine years too. Why do they come to our aid yet we leave them to starve on reservations?”

  Wilma screwed up her face. “Don't talk like that, Miss Ellen. We is trying to be happy. Now what are we going to cook?”

  “Ma makes the best turkey. She stuffs it with this mixture of onion and nut stuffing. With lots of mashed potatoes and then for afterwards she makes custards and pies. Pumpkin and dried apple.” The expression on Samuel's face made the others laugh. He was almost drooling.

  “Mr. Davy and Aaron went out hunting. Caught a couple of nice birds. We is going over tomorrow to help Mrs. H prepare them.” Wilma looked at Asha who nodded. She knew how to prepare poultry. She was interested to see how her friends would cook them. On the reservation, they used a big fire pit for special celebrations. She didn’t remember seeing a pit on the Sullivan ranch but maybe she had missed it.

  “Pity I can't come. I have too much going on at the school house,” Ellen said, making everyone laugh again.

  “Miss Ellen don’t like being a farmer’s wife. She prefers food to just arrive on the table. Got spoilt in that fancy college of hers.”

  Asha smiled as she realized Wilma was teasing. There was so much love in this house. These people teased and joked all the time.

  “Asha, what is it? Are you having pains?”

  Startled, Asha realized they were all looking at her with concern on their faces. “No, no pains. I was just thinking.”

  Wilma put her arm around her shoulders. “It’s natural to miss your family, especially around the holidays.”

  “What can I do to help. I no cook but there is something I can do? Yes?”

  “You should take advantage and rest. You won’t get much of that when baby comes,” Wilma said gently, as if fearing the reaction a mention of the baby would make.

  Asha kept her face expressionless. The baby. She hated it for as long as she had known it was coming. But now... every time she felt it move, her heart melted. This was her child. She loved it, leaving her scared. How would she keep it?

  “Asha, why don’t you go lie down for a while. All this excitement seems to have drained you. It’s natural for pains to hit your body now. It’s nature’s way to tell you the baby will be here soon.”

  Asha took the chance to leave. Her emotions were all over the place. Being alone meant she didn’t have to hide them. She walked slowly to her room, the chat from the kitchen following her.

  “Ma is making custard too. My favorite.”

  “Everything your ma makes is your favorite. It’s a good job I’m not a jealous wife. I know my cooking will never compare to your ma's,” Ellen said teasingly.

  “It’s not your cooking I married you for.” Samuel said loudly enough for Asha to hear him from the stairs. She smiled despite her fears.

  Asha had barely closed the bedroom door before there was a soft knock and Wilma came in.

  “I had to get out of that kitchen. Mr. Samuel, he gone all lovesick on Miss Ellen. Those two been married long enough to get that out of their system.” Wilma’s hearty laugh and the twinkle in her eyes showed despite her words, she approved.

  “Asha, child, talk to me. What is wrong? You hide your emotions well but I can tell. You is very unhappy. Are you frightened of having the baby
?”

  “No. I have been present at birthings before. I am not frightened of pain.”

  “What is it then. Tell Wilma. I thought we were friends.”

  “We are. You have been so good to me. I am... scared.”

  Wilma took Asha's two hands and led her to the bed. They both sat down.

  “What you scared of, child?”

  “I don’t want to be alone.” One tear escaped quickly followed by another. Then she was sobbing her heart out. Wilma drew her closer and let her cry.

  “You let those tears out. Sometimes a good cry does our body a whole lot of good.”

  Asha sobbed for a while until the hiccups came.

  “You aren’t alone, child. You heard the sheriff. You can make Clover Springs your home now.”

  Asha hiccupped again.

  “You can live here with your baby. Miss Ellen and Mr. Samuel won’t mind and I can do with some help when you are over the birth. Father Molloy, he could come back any day now. He could bring one child or ten.”

  Asha wiped away a tear, not sure what to say.

  “Miss Ellen and Mr. Samuel need their privacy. If you were here, they could spend more time in their own little house. They think they need to be here all the time helping me.” Wilma smiled. “This orphanage has plenty of room and there’s more than enough love to go around. Your baby will have a home here as long as she wants. So will you.”

  “Wilma, do you... Oh, never mind.”

  “Do I what?” Wilma pushed Asha’s braids back behind her ear.

  “Do you think my baby will love me?”

  “Oh, you sweet child. Of course your baby will love you. You its mama. Nobody can take that away.”

  "But when it grows up. She will be different. Not part of the Indian world and not white either.”

  Wilma frowned. “Child, by the time your baby is grown up, we can hope the world will be different. In the meantime, we will show her so much love, she will be a happy confident person. Her heart will be full of love just like Rosa and John.”