The Far Side of Lonesome Read online

  The Far Side of Lonesome

  By Rita Hestand

  Smashwords edition

  Copyright 2009 Rita Hestand

  Smashwords Edition

  License Note

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  Chapter One

  Summer 1870

  Indian Territory

  Jeb saw her out of the corner of his eyes, but the Chief was sitting just across from him, and he couldn't just gawk at her, a white woman in an Indian camp didn't surprise him, it just caught him off guard. He'd learned long ago a lot of things just weren't his business. The woman glanced his way, but she was shaking her head and arguing about something. The woman was with a group of squaws and there was much commotion among them. He got a brief glimpse of light brown hair, flowing over long limbs, buckskin and a conversation that stirred.

  Chief Long Feather had listened to their woeful tale this morning of needing to trade horses as theirs were in such bad shape. A horse was a prize to an Indian and to trade for one was unheard of. However, Jeb and Hoot had been dealing with this Chief for several years now and never had a bit of trouble. Most of the time things went smoothly.

  Jeb thought about the woman for a minute. Dressed like an Indian she must have been here a while, and yet this was the first visit he'd seen her. He wondered at that. Shawnee rarely raided any longer, so what was she doing here in this camp. He needed to trade for horses, and not put his nose where it didn't belong, he told himself silently. But his curiosity kept him eyeing the squaws.

  "We better get our tradin' done and get out of here, Jeb," Hoot glanced at him, with a sobering expression.

  Jeb saw the haunting in Hoot's eyes and knew he was spooked about something. They'd been partners before they even grew up. Hoot usually had a feeling about things like that too, Jeb conceded but they needed new horses, theirs had traveled over a long trip and were road weary. They couldn't go on with them and they darn sure didn't want to sit in the middle of an Indian village for the winter. He supposed they could walk the horses but that would mean new boots and no one to trade with for that.

  The old chief smiled at him and Hoot jumped. Jeb knew that Hoot was spooked but what he didn't understand was why?

  It was a hot day, the wind barely moved, the camp sat among a few scattered pines along the trail and shaded most of the morning.

  Jeb crossed his legs and sat like the old chief, staring him down for long moments. "We gonna do our tradin' then we'll get. Our horses won't hold up to get us back to Texas…you know it as well as I do. There's bound to be somethin' we can do for them or give them that would be a good trade. Our blankets, our knives, something."

  "I jest have this feelin', Jeb." Hoot explained trying to calm his nerves down but unable to.

  Suddenly the chief looked at Jeb, his wrinkled old face turning into a smile."We trade, we give horses, but you must take ich-que back with you."

  Jeb had no idea what the old man was talking about but as long as he got the horses, he saw no reason not to trade. "Sure we take ich-que back…"

  "What's a ich-que?" Hoot asked.

  "Don't matter, we'll take it, so's we can get out of here and have fresh horses." Jeb smiled at the old chief. "No use arguing."

  "Jeb…maybe you better find out what it is, first…" Hoot frowned at his long time friend.

  "It don't matter I told you, we got to have fresh horses." Jeb said firmly.

  After smoking the pipe with the chief Jeb started to get up. That's when it happened.

  The squaws brought her out and practically shoved her in his face, the white woman he'd seen in their camp.

  Jeb staggered, holding the woman up and then looking into her face. She was lean, and long limbed, and her hair was braided like theirs now, but her hair was such a light color of brown, and her eyes blue, like the sky. She looked into Jeb's face and frowned.

  Depending on how long she'd been here how white she was, Jeb quickly realized.

  Not understanding what the commotion was about he turned to the chief in question.

  "ich-que…" the chief repeated.

  Jeb's eyes grew big and rounded on the woman like daggers. "Oh…naw…now we cain't be takin' no white woman with us…."

  Chief walked away, as though he didn't hear him.

  "But…we cain't." Jeb hollered. The chief kept on walking and soon entered his tent, as though the matter were closed. "You don't understand…."

  Hoot looked from the woman to Jeb as though Jeb had lost his mind. "He wants to give us the woman?"

  "Well…we cain't take her…." Jeb shook his head. Then realizing she spoke English he turned on the white lady. "Beggin' your pardon ma'am, but we cain't be takin' you nowhere….You see how it is. You got to see. It would just be tradin' one problem for another…that's all. It's not that I don't want to help, but…."

  The woman said nothing, just stared at him, then hung her head.

  Jeb saw the look of defeat in her eyes and hated himself for turning her down, but he had to make someone understand….a Negro man couldn't take a white woman back to her family. It was unheard of. Didn't the old Indian understand the danger?

  "I told you somethin' was gonna happen….I told you!" Hoot shouted.

  Jeb stood there, and suddenly realized….they'd just given him a white woman!

  Just a little past Doan Crossing, Texas

  “Jeb, I didn’t want to bring this up, but you know we got a problem.” Hoot said in a low voice so as not to be overheard. "And somethin's got to be done…before we get to a town…"

  “I know….I just ain’t sure what we should do about it…” Jeb replied, trying his best not to look over his shoulder at the woman and baby behind them. The baby was another surprise. He cringed at the thought that he'd let this happen. He couldn't blame Hoot. Hoot tried to warn him, why hadn't he listened?

  He shot her a look, sweat trickled down the side of her face, but she didn’t acknowledge it, and she hadn’t once complained of riding all day. He reckoned she'd suffered much worse with the Indians.

  “We best be figurin’ something’ out, don’t you think?” Hoot frowned at his friend.

  “I’m workin’ on it. We’ll talk to her about it when we camp tonight. It’s a couple days ride ‘till we get to a decent size town anyway. We can’t just dump her in the middle of nowhere…” Jeb rasped.

  “Agreed, that’s for shore and certain. So…you gonna talk to her?” Hoot's voice held more understanding now.

  Jeb glanced over at his friend; Hoot sat the saddle almost as though glued there. Jeb eyed him up and down strangely until Hoot almost glared at him.

  “In all my born days I’ve never seen you eye me like a side of beef before, what are you lookin’ at?”

  Jeb shook his head and spit to the hot ground, “Nothin’ Hoot, not lookin’ at nothin’, I’m thinkin’, but I’ll take it up with you later, when I've thought it through. Ain't no use tallkin' it over until I think on it a while.”

  Hoot frowned, “Never liked it when you did too much thinkin’. Down right spooky…that’s what it is.” Hoot shook his head and scurried on in front of him as though ignoring him a while. Jeb didn't mind, he needed to figure things out in his head.

  Jeb knew Hoot was plumb put out about this situation and he didn't blame him, but what on earth could he do about it? The woman had come with them, and brought her baby with her. Short o
f tying her up, he didn't know how he could escape the fate. Saddled with her, he had to come up with something pretty quick an he knew it.

  It gave Jeb a break. He eased back on the reins and let his horse canter while the lady with the baby caught up to him. He wondered how he should talk to her. She hadn’t said anything since the Indians brought her to him. They'd brought out the baby later and placed the cradle on her back. The chief had stood at his lodge, looking, as though he'd lost something precious. Why had he given her to them if he wanted her? It made no sense. Obviously her or the baby was important to him, as Jeb saw the look in the old Chief's eye.

  She had stood there, resigned, not saying anything, not crying, just standing there as though doom had done settled on her thin shoulders. The other squaws seemed sad to see her go, and she didn't look none too happy. What was he supposed to do, march her back to them? The chief would take the horses back and then what? It was obvious she didn’t want to go with them and Jeb wished that she had objected.

  He glanced over at her now. She wasn’t looking at him, but straight ahead and by her expression Jeb wasn’t sure what might be on her mind. His eyes slid to her Indian deerskin dress, and how it rode up on her thigh. She seemed totally unaware of herself. He turned his head away. He didn’t like the feeling stirring inside him and he fought it down. He had no right to look at her like that. But for the life of him he couldn’t stop the feeling. He hadn't been awakened by a woman in years.

  The woman was in her thirties he’d guess, she was no child that was for sure. She had light brown hair that blew like wisps in the wind around her face as her braid began to loosen. Her eyes were like a summer sky, compelling. She was thin and long boned. But one look into her face and Jeb knew this woman had known hard times, lots of hurts and a vague loneliness that stirred him, as though he recognized that same loneliness. It gripped him, tore at him, as though her pain had become his. He shook his head, that was foolish thinking.

  He glimpsed stubborn pride, and a unspeakable sadness within her. It was the sadness that pulled him mostly.

  He scratched his chin, and eyed her, “Ma’am, you do understand us, don’t you?”

  She shot him a sideways glance and her glorious head of light brown hair swayed to the soft breezes over her shoulders, “Of course I understand you, I’m white…why wouldn’t I?”

  “Yes, Ma’am, I realize that. But are you scared of us? I mean you don't know us, and was forced on us and well, I reckon I could understand it if you was.”

  “Should I be?” she asked, giving him a sardonic look. He could tell she wasn’t afraid of anything. Fear didn’t seem a part of her.

  Maybe he should thank his God for not having some wailing, or whinny lady on his hands.

  “No ma’am, I don’t think you should be, but I’d understand if you was. I mean you were forced on us and I figure you are as shocked as we are.”

  She nodded. “That’s a good word to describe it…I suppose you realize I didn't want to come with you. But the chief had made up his mind. Some of my friends didn't want me to go.”

  “Yes ma'am I figured as much. Now, ma’am, we got us a problem and I need your help in deciding how to handle it.”

  She didn’t wince. She stared at him for a long time, her eyes going up an down him curiously. “Go on…”

  “Them Shawnee….well…some of them seemed kinda reluctant to hand you over. And believe me it weren’t our intention to grab you and the baby there, the baby bein' another surprise. But on the other hand, me and Hoot as honorable men couldn’t quite leave ya there, knowin’ you was white…and that you’d been a captive.” Jeb tried to use all his manners; he generally hoped he was doing a good job. “We’d planned to trade for horses, that was all…ours bein’ worn out.”

  She blinked, and then glanced at him, “Sorry I wasn’t a horse…” She let him go on ahead of her and fell back then, as though she'd talked enough. Jeb slowed deliberately, needing to talk to the woman about the situation they were in. He hoped she didn't take offense.

  "I understand your quandary. You are black men, and not accustomed to being around a white woman." When Jeb didn’t say anything for a long time but stayed with her, she continued, “I've been a captive many years now. The baby is the son of the chief’s son,” she announced boldly.

  Jeb sighed a little too heavily, and her head reared proudly. A soft chuckle caught the wind. "Holy molie," Hoot whispered.

  “And you wouldn’t leave him….” Jeb finished for her.

  “That’s right, he’s my son…I could not leave him…” she felt a pang of regret or something for her face changed now. "I guess that's hard for a man to understand."

  “How long were you a captive?” Jeb asked, spitting his tobacco once more.

  “Five years…” she winced from the pain of it, Jeb reckoned.

  “Is your husband…?”

  “My white husband….is dead…we were on a wagon train, headed for Texas, for a land grant there. We were attacked by Comanche…” she began in a breathless whisper. "We were crossing from Indian territory into Texas, we'd barely cross the Red before they attacked us. Most of the adult were killed or captured."

  “Comanche huh? They trade you for horses or guns to the Shawnee?”

  “Yes, about six months later, after making a slave of me,” she raised her chin proudly. “I…did my best to resist their torture, but I hated them…and they knew it. I was more trouble than they bargained for. I spent every day trying to figure out a way to escape them…” She admitted freely. “First because they killed my husband, and second because they treated me so badly. They laughed at every struggle, never once giving me a chance to learn anything from them.”

  Jeb studied on her words for a long minute then glanced at her, “Then the Shawnee took you to their camp, huh?”

  “Yes…they did…”

  Jeb nodded, “Shawnee treat their captives better, I’m told. They sorta believe that if a white man kills one of their own, then they are entitled to steal a white and make them theirs. It’s their way, I guess. It ain't right in the white's eyes, but it's their way, I reckon.”

  “You know much about the Shawnee?” she asked.

  “A little. Me and my partner here, we was buffalo hunters. We’ve traded with the Shawnee some. They never gave us much trouble, some of them even fought in the war with the union army. Most of them settled into Cherokee country north of the Red. But a few scattered and lived by the Red, like your bunch.”

  A silence lapsed and Jeb looked at her again, this time keeping his eyes pinned on her proud face.

  “So go on, tell me about living with them…” Jeb insisted.

  She stared at him a long time, but he waited in silence. When she realized he wasn't going anywhere and was merely waiting for her story, she firmed her lips. “Once I learned the ways of the Shawnee, it was different, they treated me as an equal. I worked hard and they seemed to appreciate my efforts. After they saw I was willing to work…they began to accept me as one of them. I realized very quickly that they were different from the Comanche. They never laughed or shamed me, but offered help and guidance. Life began to be livable again. I began to make friends with them and then I was given to the chief’s son, as he had no wife or children. He was a good man, very humble, very giving, he treated me with much respect, and I bore his child, they accepted me as part of the tribe. They were proud he had a son. We were married by the chief himself. They considered me one of them.” She announced. “I learned to cope by accepting my fate and in time, I learned to care about the people...”

  Jeb nodded, “Yeah…I can see where that might happen…I mean over time I'm sure you felt it was your only hope for survival. Did you like it there?”

  The woman hung her head for the first time, “No…not at first, then…later, it became easier just to accept it all…but I guess you wouldn’t believe that… It’s hard to understand when you haven’t been through something like this. But they were kind to me. Most of t
hem. They taught me how to survive, to live…even to love…”

  Jeb was quiet again and nodded. “Yes ma’am…you must have been awful brave to have lived with them, bearing his child and his attention.”

  She was silent for a long while then she added in a soft whisper once more. “There was nothing brave about it. He was not a mean man; he treated me as his wife, and with respect. I didn't bear his attention, I welcomed it. He was my husband in eveyr way. More so than my white husband, I might add.” She raised her eyes to Jeb, and he finally saw the tears there. But she didn’t let them fall. “I grew…to care about him. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but when you live with a man, it’s hard not to.”

  Jeb’s heart nearly stopped when he looked into those sky blue eyes, she spoke with her heart and he sensed she meant every word. He’d never met a white woman who could adjust her thinking like that. This woman was stronger than she knew.

  However, if she spoke it aloud, she’d be in great danger.

  His eyes slid over her slowly now, digesting her. She wasn’t the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, but there was something about her that tore into his heart and made him aware of her as a woman. Not that he’d dare act upon his feelings, for he was a God fearing man, but it was there nonetheless. The feeling was sure strange to Jeb. He’d have to pray on those feelings to God, for some kind of understanding of it. But what she said…startled him. He stared at her now, his mouth open, his eyes crinkling into some sort of twisted emotion. He'd never met a white woman who spoke with such honestly, such an open heart.

  “Yes, ma’am. The Shawnee are a right fair bunch of Indians. I’ve tangled with a few and they fight as fair as any white man.” Jeb nodded. “But ma’am, well…you can’t go saying such in front of your own people, like that. There is no tellin’ what they might do to you. They hate the Indian as much as they do the Negroes. It’s unheard of a white woman loving an Indian.”