Another Chance

by Janet Cooper

  Her lover's lips curved upward, and a sparkle twinkled in his eyes. "No, we didn't."

  Had she imagined the coolness between the two men? Tonight, they appeared congenial.

  "Tomorrow, I will find out where the scouts camp and ride over," Jeremiah said. "If Long Knife is there, he might be home before sundown. If not, I will leave a message. His commanding officer, I am sure, will send him back as quickly as possible."

  Sarah flashed him a look of thanks. "Seeing him may help her," she said with confidence, forbidding any doubt from suggesting otherwise.

  "Jeremiah, Sarah was wondering how her father is. Do you have any knowledge?"

  Hope filled her heart. She looked at Wolf with gratitude for asking.

  Shaking his head, Jeremiah gave his attention to Sarah. "My last report was just after you arrived at Long Meadow. If you wish, I will send a man to find out."

  "No," she said. "That won't be necessary. Wolf and I will go tomorrow. I need to see for myself."

  "I will come too," said Little Turtle.

  All three adults stared at the boy.

  "If Sarah is going, I think I should too since my father asked me to help protect her." He plunked his elbows on the table, cupped his chin in his hands, and focused on his father. A defiant expression marred his young face.

  She glanced at the two men waiting for one to object, but neither spoke. "I am sure my father would be pleased to see thee," she said, unwilling to be the one to reject the child's offer.

  "Little Turtle, I asked you to help while I was gone. Tomorrow, I will be there and will have enough to do defending Sarah, without having to guard you as well," Wolf replied tartly.

  The boy pouted briefly, before sitting up straight. "You will not have to protect me. I will take my bola and my bow and arrows." He pounded his small chest. "I will help defend Sarah Stone, just as I did before."

  His words warmed her heart. Was he softening toward her?

  "I can spare a man," said Jeremiah.

  "That is not necessary," Wolf replied sharply.

  "Since some of thy braves have returned, perhaps White Owl would enjoy going with us?" Sarah offered. "My father will be pleased to see him again." She hoped her words were true, for she remembered Benjamin's lack of enthusiasm about the burial service.

  Nodding, Wolf said, "I will ask." He sounded pleased and relieved by her suggestion.

  * * * *

  Smoke rose from the inn's chimney, making Sarah's heart soar. Before her companions could help her dismount, she jumped down and raced toward the tavern. "Father," she called with joy as she neared the front steps.

  A moment later, hands gripped her waist from behind, lifted her off her feet, and twisted her half-way round. "Sarah," Wolf said, staring at her, "take care. You have no idea who might be inside." He eased his hold, and the soles of her shoes touched the dirt.

  She gasped as if dashed with cold water. Glancing over her shoulder at her home, but seeing nothing but a peaceful setting, she asked, "Does thee have knowledge that I do not?"

  Before Wolf replied, the door opened.

  Benjamin stood at the entrance-way. "Sarah!" As he stepped onto the small porch, sunlight caught and danced off his gray hair.

  Happiness surrounded and filled her. He looks fine.

  When he extended his arms in welcome, she dashed across the path and flew up the three steps. He grasped her in a tight embrace. "How I have missed thee."

  "And I thee, father." Without thinking, she had used the word 'thee'. She realized she had meant it. Sarah cherished this dear man. He deserved the more endearing form. She kissed his leathery cheek. Easing back so that she could see his face more clearly, but not breaking the hold, she asked, "Is thee all right?" He appeared so, but she searched his eyes, looking for the truth.

  "I am well. But why art thee here?" He looked concerned when he glanced at her escort. "Everything is fine." A puzzled expression washed over his face.

  Unwilling to reveal her encounter with the corporal, she said, "With these troubled times and news difficult to get, I worried about thee. I asked Wolf to bring me so that I might see for myself that thee is well."

  "Will thee be staying?"

  "Does thee want me to?" Her heart sank. Instead of his request pleasing her, it filled her with sadness. Seeing the tavern she had considered the lifeline to her real world, she shivered. Must she return when she wished only to stay with Wolf?

  "Of course, I would like thee to remain with me. However, until the area is safe, I would never allow thee to take the chance."

  She hugged him, partially because she loved him and partially because he had given her permission to do what she wanted. Then, remembering her manners, she moved aside so he could greet his guests.

  "Where is thy cap?" he admonished her, before releasing his grip.

  She studied his face, but saw no anger in his eyes. "Wolf forgot to pack any, and the one I wore when I left is filthy." She carefully failed to mention she had used the cap as a dust mop. "So I came without one."

  "Tis not becoming for one who believes in the principles of the Society," he reminded her in his firm, gentle manner.

  Sarah refused to allow his strict rules to dampen her visit, so she kissed his other cheek. "Forgive me."

  He smiled. "Always. However, a word of caution, when we put off our external trappings, some of our internal beliefs change as well."

  His words sounded a faint alarm within her, but she refused to spoil her time with him. "Look who came with me."

  "Welcome," he called in a hearty voice, as he and Sarah walked down the steps. "Come in. Refresh thyselves. Make my home thine." Benjamin ushered them into the inn. "Mistress Westcoat, we have guests."

  A tall woman standing near the hearth and partially hidden by the subdued lighting approached. Her indigo-and-white striped linen short gown did little to hide her plump shape. She grasped the edges of her apron and bobbed a curtsey, directed at all of them. "How pleased I am to see you again and,” she glanced from Sarah to Benjamin and back again, "to meet your friends." Two red circles popped out on her cheeks.

  Had the woman never entertained a Lenape before? While not appearing afraid, her nervousness showed. "I am pleased Father has someone to help him," Sarah replied, trying to ease the tension building in the room.

  "The stew is hot, whenever you are ready and I baked today," Mistress Westcoat said.

  "Would thee care to wash up before eating?" Sarah asked her companions.

  "Good idea," Benjamin said. "I will show them the well and the necessary."

  Before they left, she knelt close to Little Turtle and said, "How about gingerbread to go with the stew?"

  "Yes!" He hugged her.

  "Go with thy father." Sarah tapped him on his breechcloth- covered bottom. "We will have everything ready when thou returns."

  Little Turtle raced out the door after the other men.

  Mistress Westcoat eyed her oddly. Uncomfortable and unsure of the woman's look, Sarah sought a topic of conversation. "Are thy husband and thy son well?"

  "Thank you for asking," Mistress Westcoat said, as she placed the wooden spoon in the pot. "News arrives slowly, as you know but last I heard they kept well." Her pale blue eyes misted. "In this troubling time, your father is a wonderful man to give me this job." She tucked wisps of light brown hair beneath her cap.

  "I am sure thou earns thy keep," Sarah said reassuringly.

  The older woman smiled. "I do try. Although I don't stay overnight, since I have chores at home to do when I leave here, I make sure food is ready in case guests stop by."

  "Does thou feel safe?" Sarah asked, unable to stop herself.

  Mistress Westcoat blushed. "At my age and with my shape, I am of no interest to any man except my husband." Her flush spread down her neck.

  As she removed the pewter plates from behind the bar, Mistress Westcoat said, "You don't appear frightened of those Indians."

  Sarah listened to the words. She heeded the
woman's tone, but she failed to figure out how Mistress Westcoat felt about the Lenape. "They have given me a home and have kept me safe. Why should I fear them? They are no different from thee or me." Sarah selected the ingredients she needed for the gingerbread.

  "But they are heathen. You are a Quaker, or at least heed the doctrine. You believe in God. They do not," she challenged, placing the plates near the fire to warm.

  After setting the necessary items on the worktable, Sarah chose a bowl from the corner cupboard. "Indeed they do. Only the names we call him are dissimilar."

  "Their skin is darker. They shave their heads," she pushed, as she placed the cutlery on the round table closest to the bar.

  "My skin is fairer than thine, but I would not judge thee less because of this difference. They are people, as are we." Sarah focused on her chore and began sifting the flour.

  "Do you like them?" The metal cup rang as the edge hit the oak table. Mistress Westcoat's surprise and concern colored her tone and her actions.

  "I respect and admire the Lenape at Long Meadow, just as I do many of our neighbors. Those I have met at Wolf's plantation have treated me kindly. Some I call friends." One I call my lover, she added silently.

  "Then you like them?" the woman persisted.

  "Like who?" Benjamin asked as he came in.

  Glancing over and around him, Sarah replied, "Where are Wolf and his family?"

  "They are currying their horses and will join us soon." Her father stared at her. "Thee did not answer my question. Like who?"

  Sarah gave a condensed version of her conversation with Mistress Westcoat, as she placed the batter in the spider pan and placed it over a tent of coals.

  "Does thee?" Benjamin asked.

  "Thee taught me to love God's children. Why should I think any differently toward the Lenape?" She had not shared her feelings for Wolf with her father and wondered why. Did Mistress Westcoat's presence halt Sarah's tongue? Had an intuitive awareness of Benjamin's possible displeasure checked her? He surely could not worry about her being 'Read Out' at meeting.

  "Very true, my dear," he replied, in a neutral voice.

  She heard no disapproval in his comment, yet she sensed an undercurrent of something she could not identify.

  After pulling out the heavy oak bench, Benjamin sat and rested his elbows on the worktable. "Tell me about thy visit; how thee occupies thy days, and any other news. Since thee left, we have had few visitors."

  Sarah complied. Occasionally, he nodded. At other times, he merely listened.

  While telling about Quick Rabbit, she heard Mistress Westcoat's adding an occasional "Oh, dear." Finishing, Sarah said, "Since no one had any news of thee, I decided I needed to come see for myself."

  "I am glad thee is helping the poor Lenape woman," Benjamin said. "Perhaps that is why God sent thee to be with her people."

  A bolt of lightning shot though Sarah's system. Was that why she had traveled through time? Was that her sole purpose? If or when Quick Rabbit recovered, would God or the fates whisk Sarah back to her own century? She couldn't wish for the poor woman to remain in her comatose state, yet if her father were right. A few weeks ago, the idea of completing her mission and leaving would have delighted her, today, just the opposite.

  Wolf walked through the door. Sarah ached to rush into his arms and cover him with kisses, feeling she must make the most of her limited time. Before she could move, Little Turtle bounded in.

  "Is the gingerbread ready?"

  Pushing aside all thoughts not needed for her tasks, Sarah said, "Almost."

  * * * *

  The time occupied by eating and sharing additional news passed swiftly. Sarah detected no animosity toward the Lenape, not even from Mistress Westcoat. At times, she recalled Benjamin's words about Quick Rabbit, but she refused to dwell on them.

  As they prepared to leave, Sarah asked, "May I speak to thee for a minute, Father?"

  "We will saddle the horses while you talk," Wolf said.

  "Shall we walk outside?" Benjamin asked, as he offered his arm, understanding she wished for privacy.

  They strolled around the house in companionable silence.

  "Does thee remember when I hung that swing for thee?" Without waiting for an answer, he went on, "Some members of the Society condemned me for erecting such a scandalous contraption. Thy mother and I laughed for we enjoyed watching thee play." He chuckled, enclosing the swing's rope with his fingers. "Did thee know, thy mother enjoyed a ride now and again?"

  "Father, I must talk to thee." She focused on his face, s she might watch his reaction.

  As if expecting her words to be grave, a serious expression crossed his face.

  Without additional preamble, she said, "I am in love."

  His right hand fisted on the rough cord. He averted his eyes and stared up at the thick branch of the maple tree that supported the swing.

  "Thee does not ask who the man is."

  "I need not ask. I observed." Benjamin encircled one hand over the other. His voice held no disapproval, but no joy either. His gaze appeared to fasten on anything but her.

  "Wolf has not asked me, but if he does, I wish to marry him. With thy approval, of course," she added.

  Benjamin shook his head. "That I cannot give."

  She broke his grasp on the rope and made him face her. "Why? Because he is a Lenape? Because his God has another name?"

  "No. These are not the reasons. If people condemned me for hanging a swing in a tree, thee will experience a much more difficult time for marrying an Indian. The community will not approve. Everyone will shunned thee."

  She started to speak, but he gestured for her silence.

  "By marrying thy mother, I was 'Read Out'. I did not realize how much I would miss attending meeting or socializing with members of the society."

  Sarah stared at him in disbelief.

  "No. I do not regret marrying thy mother." His expression softened and he went on, "We fell in love, and I cherish every moment that I had with her. But my religion was, no is, an important part of who I am. To be forbidden from participating as a member of the Society has been hard, but at least I have other neighbors for friends. If thee marries this Lenape, thee will have no one."

  "Thee gave up thy religion for love. Why can't I follow my heart, as thee did?" she asked desperately.

  "Thee will be giving up more than religion," he replied earnestly.

  Gripping his hand with both hers, she pleaded with him. "He is a good man. I love him. Does thee not wish to see me happy?"

  He grabbed her in his arms, holding her against him. "Thy happiness is my only concern. Will thee give up thy way of life, thy friends, thy family? People will not approve if thee weds an Indian." Easing his grasp, he looked at her. "Thee will always have my love, for thee is a part of me and of thy wonderful mother.” He shook his head sadly. “For thy own happiness, I can never give my permission."

  She kissed his cheek, whirled around, and fled. Tears threatened to fall, but she swallowed hard and raced toward the barn.

  Wolf finished tightening the cinch on his horse and straightened the stirrup. Moments later, Sarah careened into him. He caught and held her. Gently, his fingers caressed her upper arms. While they had eaten, he had noticed a slight nervousness surrounding Sarah. Now his curiosity increased one hundred-fold. "What is it?"

  She sniffed. "Nothing." Mounting her horse, she said, "Father wishes us a safe trip back."

  "Indeed, I do," the older man said, joining them, slightly out of breath. He strolled between the horses and over to Sarah. Reaching, he squeezed her hand. His head moved slowly obviously taking in her skirt that bunched around her thighs and then his gaze traveled over the cotton liners covering her legs. Although he frowned, he did not speak.

  Wolf continued to watch the interplay for he sensed the tension between them. Sarah had told Wolf that white women wore neither leggings nor a loincloth. Surely seeing his daughter wearing pants would not cause the amount of strain tha
t Wolf sensed.

  Turning away from Sarah, Benjamin faced Wolf. "Take care of my daughter. She is precious to me."

  "I will guard her," Little Turtle said, obviously hearing the words, but not seeing at whom they were directed.

  "As my son said, we will keep her safe … always."

  "Say goodbye to Mistress Westcoat for me and thank her for the meal," Sarah added.

  "I will. Have a safe trip." Benjamin walked over to White Owl and shook his hand.

  "We thank you for your hospitality," White Owl said, before starting.

  Instead of glancing back to wave to her father, Sarah kept her gaze straight ahead.

  What had happened? Wolf wondered. He allowed his son and his grandfather to draw ahead. "Sarah, what is wrong? Benjamin is well. The woman is a good worker." He hesitated before adding, "Do you wish to stay?" Every muscle in his body tensed as he waited her answer.

  She twisted in her saddle and faced him. "Never."

  Unsure of her meaning, he repeated, "Never?"

  Shaking her head, she said, "My life at the tavern is over."

  "Why?"

  "I told my father of my love for thee. I asked him for his blessing. He refused."

  Anger built inside Wolf. "Does he not consider an 'Indian' good enough for his daughter?"

  She shook her head. "Thy nationality has nothing to do with his withholding his approval."

  "Then why?" Wolf persisted.

  Sarah glanced at him, then flushed and looked away.

  "You must tell me!" Wolf demanded.

  Her light blush turned to scarlet, and she stared straight ahead. "He fears that I will be ostracized by our neighbors. He worries that this will destroy my happiness."

  Wolf's old fear of marrying a white woman returned. Had he inflicted his grandmother's pain on his beloved Sarah? "I, too, have worried about this. I will understand if you wish to return to your father." Each word he spoke acted like a fresh stab wound, and Wolf found he could do nothing to staunch the flow of blood.