Thanksgiving In Clover Springs

by Rachel Wesson

  “Your orders were to stay and camp out in the blizzard with no protection other than standard issue army coats. Correct?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “So you do admit to that being a mistake?”

  “No, Sir, I cannot be held responsible for the weather.”

  “No, indeed, you cannot. Only God can take that responsibility. Although from what I am hearing, you seem to believe you are infallible and answerable to nobody. Wrong on both counts.”

  The captain didn’t reply. He didn’t acknowledge the burst of laughter from Davy and the rest of the men from Clover Springs. Little Beaver didn’t laugh. While he believed the captain was wrong, he didn’t agree with humiliating him like this either.

  “Jeffries also served in the war. He was a veteran of Gettysburg and you shot him in the back. For that alone you should be shot.”

  Captain Shopshire gulped but he didn’t say anything in his own defense.

  “Little Beaver, I can only apologize for the mistreatment you have suffered at the hands of my men. I am sure Captain Shopshire will add his own apology plus his thanks for saving his life.”

  The silence was deafening.

  “Captain Shopshire, I'm waiting.”

  “No, Sir, I refuse to apologize to a savage.”

  “You, Captain Shopshire are a disgrace to the uniform you wear. I have heard some unpleasant stories since I came back to the reservation. I wasn’t inclined to believe them. I found it almost impossible to believe one of my officers would shoot a decorated veteran in the back. But given your performance this evening, I believe every word. I am recommending you be court martialed and executed.”

  Little Beaver's head shot up. He had wanted this man’s death but now it was on the table, he didn’t want it anymore. There was too much hate and bloodshed already.

  Captain Shopshire blanched.

  “I wish to speak if that is permitted.” Little Beaver found himself on his feet before he could question his own reasons.

  The general nodded his assent.

  “Please do not kill this man.” Little Beaver’s voice shook slightly. His anger at Captain Shopshire hadn’t gone away but he wasn’t going to stand by and let him die.

  Shocked murmurs broke out at his announcement.

  “The captain is correct. I wanted to kill him. I spent days and nights planning exactly how to do it. I intended making it as painful as possible. I was angry, hurt, and wanted revenge. But it is not right to take another man’s life. It only leads to more anger, hurt, more killings. I will not be party to his death. I will leave now.”

  Little Beaver shoved his chair back, the noise of wood scraping wood all that could be heard in the room. Everyone was staring at him. He didn't care. For the first time since seeing Asha that night in the barn, he was free.

  The general stood up. He held out his hand in friendship to Little Beaver.

  “For one so young, you are very wise.”

  Little Beaver shook the general's hand. “Perhaps now, we can find a way for my people and your people to live in peace.”

  “If only it were that easy, son.” The general's reply was so softly spoken; Little Beaver didn’t think anyone else heard it.

  “Guards, take Captain Shopshire to his quarters. Remove all weapons. He is to be kept under twenty-four-hour guard until his court martial.”

  Captain Shopshire half saluted before leaving the room.

  “Miles, Murphy?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Go fetch Mulligan and make sure he has medical attention if necessary. I will speak to him tomorrow.

  “Little Beaver, will you sit and eat with us?”

  “Thank you, Sir. I am not hungry. I would like to visit with my people before we return to Clover Springs.”

  “Go ahead, lad. Say goodbye before you leave. If you ever want a job scouting for me, I would be honored to have you.”

  “Thank you. But I have a life in Clover Springs with my friends and family.”

  “And a badge waiting for him,” Sheriff Willis added.

  “And his girl...” Aaron shouted making everyone laugh. Little Beaver smiled, too, despite the heat of his face. If only that were true.

  Chapter 40

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Asha. You look beautiful in your new dress.”

  Asha looked down at the gown Wilma had made for her. Ellen and Katie had helped. It was beautiful and she loved the way it swirled around her legs. It wasn’t as practical as her unusual clothes but she could understand why white ladies liked wearing evening dresses.

  “Thank you, Wilma. I will never forget your kindness.”

  “I thought you had decided to stay. That sounds like you are leaving us.”

  Asha’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t stay here. There are too many reminders. When I am stronger after the birth, I will take my baby and make my way to another reservation.”

  “Full of strangers. That’s no life for you or your child.” Wilma’s voice quivered as if she was battling tears.

  “It will be my own kind. I can pretend my husband died like so many of our men. If I do not say anything, they will assume.”

  “Not telling the truth is the same as lying, and I know your people don’t condone lies,” Wilma said firmly. “Let’s not think about this now. Wait till the baby comes and then make your decision. You cannot leave until after Christmas and that’s weeks away yet. Now we got a party to go to.”

  Asha didn’t answer. There was no need. Wilma was already bustling through the house getting Rosa and John ready to go to the Sullivan ranch. They would be staying there for a couple of days.

  Samuel drove the wagon out to the ranch with Ellen by his side. Asha, Wilma and the children shared the back. The children were so excited they chattered the whole way there. Asha didn’t speak, she was content to enjoy the sights of nature all around her. She was finally free to explore the countryside once more and she couldn’t wait. She was slightly anxious about the Thanksgiving party. She had never attended one before so wasn’t sure what to expect. She hoped Nandita would be there. It would be nice to speak her own language for a while.

  The ranch was decorated beautifully. Candles adorned every surface illuminating the pretty dresses the female guests wore. Mary wasn’t down yet to meet them.

  “She’s wore herself out pacing the front yard waiting for Davy and the others. She was late going up to change only she was sure they would be back,” Mrs. H said, wringing her apron in her hands. One eye was on the road the whole time she greeted them.

  “Where did they go?” Asha asked. She caught the looks exchanged by Wilma, Mrs. Higgins and Mrs. Grey. “Tell me. Stop hiding secrets.”

  “The sheriff had word Little Beaver may need some help.” Wilma took Asha’s arm, taking her to the porch to sit down on the swing Paul Kelley made for Mary.

  “Where is he? You knew they found him and you didn’t tell me? Why?” Accusation dripped from her voice.

  “Don’t fret now. It’s not good for the baby. We didn’t say anything as we don’t know anything. Not for sure. We didn’t want to raise your hopes. It was better this way.”

  “So where did they go?”

  “The reservation.” Nandita’s voice broke through the crowd. “Do not be angry. It was right not to tell you.”

  Asha answered in her own tongue, frustration making her forget the others wouldn’t understand her.

  “He is there. He will not let Little Beaver go. Why did you let him go? How could you?”

  “Nobody could stop him. You know what he is like. He wanted to avenge your honor,” Nandita spoke quickly.

  “This is all my fault.” Asha didn’t realize she had spoken English.

  “No, Asha, none of this is your fault.” Wilma said sitting beside her.

  “Ma, they’re coming. See the dust. That’s horses. Riding hard,” Ben sputtered trying to catch his breath. He’d been watching from the ranch entrance and run back to tell them.

  Asha
gripped Wilma’s hand fiercely. Would he be with them?

  The men thundered into the yard spooking chickens and hens in all directions.

  “Careful. Ma will have me for dinner if those hens don’t lay any eggs.”

  “You bet I will, Son. Welcome home,” Mrs. H called.

  Asha strained her eyes but couldn’t see him. Davy, Aaron and a man she didn’t know were blocking her view. The sheriff called from the back of the crowd. “You got room for a couple more Mrs. Sullivan?”

  “You bet, Sheriff. Who you got in mind?”

  “I found this one wandering around with his head stuck on backwards.” The sheriff moved, pushing Little Beaver forward. The Indian was soon surrounded by his friends all wanting to greet him after his ordeal.

  Asha hung back, taking a seat on the porch. She was thrilled he was back safe. Her heart wanted to run to him and throw herself at his mercy but her pride stopped her.

  “Where is Asha?” Little Beaver called loudly. “I need to speak to her.”

  The crowd parted leaving the two of them staring at each other. He walked slowly toward her. She stood, wanting to run from the intensity of his gaze but her legs wouldn’t move.

  He walked slower, the fear and apprehension in her eyes warning him not to do anything to scare her away again.

  He held out his hand. “Come, we need to speak. In private.”

  Asha didn’t move. He took her hand in his, pulling her gently behind him as he walked away from the house and their friends.

  “Aaron told me what happened. You agreed to marry him.” Despite his best efforts, his voice carried hurt and anger.

  Her eyes widened not with fear but with anger. “I had to do something. I had to protect my child.” She dropped a hand to her stomach as if to ward off danger. His heart soared. His Asha was back. Her heart was open to love. She loved her baby, maybe there was hope for them yet.

  “What you do now?” He moved closer to her. “Will you make your home here in Clover Springs? With me?”

  She stood silently assessing him. Each second of silence made him fear the worst. Finally, she voiced his fear.

  “I can’t stay here with you, Little Beaver.” She jerked her hand from his.

  He grabbed her hand again and steered her further away from their audience.

  When she wouldn’t look at him, he put a finger under her chin forcing her to look up. Her eyes clouded with tears.

  “You're hurting me. Let me go”

  “Say you have no feelings for me. Say your heart is not mine.”

  When she hesitated he pulled he closer. “Say it.”

  “I don’t love you.”

  He sucked in his breath. “Since when did Asha, daughter of Chief White Moon lie? You are better than that.”

  “No, I am not. Not anymore. The Asha you knew is dead. Let her go. Please. It is best.”

  She turned to go but he pulled her back. Drew her close.

  “Best for who? I know you love me. Now we have a chance. We can make a life together just as we planned.”

  “But it won’t be as we planned. I… We bring you dishonor.” Her eyes drifted to her stomach.

  He placed his hand gently on her bump. “It will be better. Maheo, the Great Spirit, has already blessed us with a child. Asha, let us be the family we could be.”

  “No, I must go back.”

  “For what? You know your father would want you to be free. His grandchild to be free. This is your chance. Our chance. Take it.”

  He put both his arms around her but stayed silent for a couple of seconds. Her heart drummed against his chest faster and faster. “You want this as much as I do.”

  “No,” She protested, pushing him half-heartedly away.

  “Just tell me to go and I will be gone. I won’t kiss you.”

  She dropped her gaze to his lips.

  The blood pounded in his ears as he lowered his head to hers. When their lips met, she tasted just as he remembered. His body sang as she moved as close as her swollen body would allow. His mouth devoured hers as the heat between them exploded. She sighed against his mouth, her limbs shaking as much as his.

  Reluctantly he broke the kiss. They were standing in front of a large audience. Their family and friends looked on in amusement, big smiles on their faces. She buried her head in his chest.

  “Asha, your heart belongs to me,” he whispered quietly. “Nobody can change that. It is written in the stars.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, the vulnerability and fear still present. They would disappear but it would take time. He had plenty of patience. He had waited this long.

  “So are we having a wedding then?” Wilma shouted amid much teasing and laugher.

  The Reverend moved forward. “I am not a spiritual man of your tribe but I would be honored to perform a blessing if you wish.”

  Little Beaver looked at Asha. It was her choice.

  “Yes, please, Reverend, but can you say it out here?”

  “In the snow? Don't you think it’s a bit co...” His words came to a standstill as Wilma nudged him in the ribs.

  “Do as she says, Reverend. It’s been hard enough getting these two in the same place let along willing to tie the knot. Do it quick before one of them runs off again.”

  The crowd laughed. Asha turned her face up to Little Beaver, her eyes asking for his kiss. He was more than happy to oblige.

  Epilogue

  Mrs. Higgins took the last of the dishes to the kitchen. It had been a wonderful party, the best Thanksgiving in a long time. I think that every year. Humming a tune, she pushed the door open. She thought the kitchen was empty until she heard a sigh.

  “You alright, Son?”

  “I’m fine, Ma, feeling relieved I guess.” Aaron didn’t sound convinced.

  “That’s good, Son. I like Asha but she and you was never going to work. You were getting married for the wrong reasons.”

  “Yeah, Little Beaver wasn’t happy when I first told him. Think he has forgiven me now.”

  “I think he has forgiven the whole world, he’s that happy. So nice to see everyone’s problems getting fixed up. Laura and Victoria are healthy again, Little Beaver and Asha are married, and Samuel and Ellen told me their good news.” Mrs. Higgins’ smile lit up her whole face. “Oh, that’s supposed to be a secret.”

  “I won’t tell anyone,” Aaron said. “Want some help with the dishes?”

  She had planned on soaking the last of the dishes and leaving them till morning. But her boy wanted to talk so it was best she hear him out.

  “What’s on your mind, Son?”

  “I’d still like to get married, Ma. What do you think of me asking that woman Miss Mary knows? The lady in Boston.”

  Mrs. H beamed. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. I could have two grandchildren by next Christmas. Wouldn’t that be wonderful.”

  “Ma. Hold up. I ain’t sent any letter yet. There might not be a suitable girl who wants to come marry a dumb old ranch hand like me.”

  “Don’t you talk like that bout yourself. You are a fine man, Aaron Higgins. Just look what you were willing to do for your friend. A woman would be lucky to have you for a husband.”

  “She truly would. Do I know the lucky lady?” Mary came in, a smile lighting up her face. It widened as Aaron’s cheeks grew red.

  “Miss Mary, we got to find Aaron a bride. Would you help us write a letter to that lady you know in Boston?”

  “I would love to. Let me go get my nice paper now.”

  “You want to do it now?” Aaron asked, twisting his finger between his shirt and his neck.

  “No time like the present. Oh, this is so exciting.” With that, Mary was gone leaving Mrs. H and Aaron staring after her.

  Thank you so much for reading! If you’d like to receive an email alert when I have a new release, please sign up for my list. You’ll be eligible to get my books at special discount prices. I do this as a thank you for my loyal readers.

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  Acknowledgments

  This book wouldn’t have been possible without the help of so many people. Thanks to Erin Dameron-Hill for my fantastic covers. Erin is a gifted artist who makes my characters come to life.

  The ladies from Pioneer Hearts who volunteered to proofread my book. Special thanks go to Nancy Cowan, Marlene Larsen, Cindy Nipper, Shirl Deems, Marilyn Cortellini, Meisje Arcuri, Janet Lessley, Robin Malek and Denise Cervantes who all spotted errors (mine) that had slipped through.

  Kirsten Osborne, Cassie Hayes and the incredible group of people who make up Pioneer Hearts, a Facebook group for authors and readers of Historical Western Romance. Come join us for games, prizes, exclusive content, and first looks at the latest releases of your favorite historical western authors. https://www.facebook.com/groups/pioneerhearts/

  Last, but by no means least, huge thanks and love to my husband and my three children.

  About the Author

  Hi, I’m Rachel. I’m Irish but I live in London with my husband and our three children, two boys and a girl.

  I love to read. As I tell my kids, it is the easiest way to escape into a whole different world. You can go to absolutely any country, century or world you wish without leaving home. My mom used to tell me that she would regularly have to take away a flashlight when I was younger so that I would go to sleep on a school night.

  My mom always said, if we were going on holidays, the first thing in my suitcase were my books. That was a long time before e-book readers!

  I read a lot of books and absolutely love anything set in the old West. When I was a child, I loved to watch Little House on the Prairie. Nellie Oleson was my favorite character. I also admit to watching Dr. Quinn—Medicine Woman lol.

  I love when readers make contact with me either via Facebook or through my website. I am flattered when they make suggestions on topics I should cover in future books. Without my readers, I wouldn’t be living my dream. Thank you.