Another Chance (13 page)

When he opened the front door, he stared at the very man who represented the dichotomy of whites
. While proclaiming his friendship, Jeremiah Low had ignored Silver Wolf's wishes and taken Clear Water canoeing. That was the last time that Wolf had seen his wife alive. Wolf could still picture Jeremiah carrying Clear Water's lifeless body from the river. From that moment, Wolf's relationship with Jeremiah had changed. Although Low had apologized and pleaded for forgiveness and Wolf had tried, a portion of Wolf's heart had hardened against his once best friend.

“L
uke!"  His former friend vaulted off his horse. "I have news about the troops responsible for the raid." He whipped the reins around the post.

Wolf hoped this lead might prove of more valuable than the others he had followed
, but he wished it had come from anyone except Jeremiah. Still, Wolf would never allow his personal feelings to interfere with finding his father's murderers. "Come inside."

Even as Jeremiah strode forward, he glanced around
. "I cannot believe the progress you have made. No one could tell if they had not seen the damage. The barn is amazing. Are you increasing the size?"

A sense of pride, mingled with sadness, touched Silver Wolf
. "By a third."

"You have selected the Chester county design
."  Low climbed the three steps leading to the main door.

W
olf gestured for Jeremiah to proceed him. "The idea of a partially protected enclosure for the animals on the ground level will help during the cold weatherl."

"Let me know how you like it
. I might consider putting on an addition to my barn."

How easily we slip into our old relationship,
Wolf thought.
I must not allow myself to forget what was done.

As they entered the house, White Owl greeted them
. Jeremiah and his grandfather grasped one another's shoulders.

"I am sorry to hear of the death of Running Deer
." His face showed his sorrow. "Forgive me. I'd forgotten that I must not mention his name now that he has passed on."

"You are forgiven," White Owl said graciously
.

I would not forgive him
. He and I spent too many years together. He knows our culture
,
Wolf thought with annoyance.

"Our societies are different," White Owl continued, "yet you have tried to learn and accept our ways
. Come join us for a drink." He led them to the kitchen.

Bowl Woman poured blueberry flavored water into three mugs and placed them on the table near the apples
.

"Help yourself," White Owl said, gesturing to the food
.

"What can you tell us about the patrol?" Wolf asked, before taking a sip from his tankard
.

"A general named Cornwallis controls them
. He has sent his men out to scour the area around Philadelphia. Until yesterday, we had heard of no other incidents." Jeremiah picked up an apple and took a bite. After quickly chewing then swallowing, he said, "The same men returned and struck a Quaker farm on the westside of the Brandywine River."

"Quaker farm?" Wolf asked quickly
. "You are certain it was a farm?" A blast of cold wind struck him squarely in the chest.

Giving him a puzzled look, Jeremiah said, "Yes
. Off Creek Road."

Relief flowed through him that the raid had not involved a chestnut haired beauty with flashing eyes
. Even when she looked disheveled, as she had standing over the kettle, she attracted him. Why did her face and body haunt him? Why could he not drive her image from his mind?

"Luke?"
Jeremiah's voice brought Wolf back to the present. "What is the matter?"

"Are they the same raiders?" Wolf asked centering on their problem and pushing his thoughts of
Sarah aside.

"The description of the leader, burly, flaming red hair and a large scar on his right cheek, matches the one your overseer gave us
."

"How much damage did they do?"
The anger and frustration showed in his clipped words and tone, but he did not care.

"The barn stands, but they confiscated most of the animals and the harvest
. They excused their actions by stating this was in lieu of uncollected taxes."

"The same reason they gave here," White Owl stated
. Only his face betrayed his outrage.

Wolf's failure to catch the brigands deepened his wrath
. He silently repeated his vow to hunt these men and destroy them. Clenching the pewter mug, he said, "They strike Lenape because we have few friends to defend us, and Quakers because their religion preaches peace and prevents them from retaliating." He recalled Sarah's flashing amber eyes, so unlike the people he had just described. Then his thoughts turned to Quick Rabbit and the rape.
What would Sarah do?
He sensed she would fight, perhaps even die, rather than submit. The idea of her dying struck his gut like a well-placed fist.

"
… Quakers will not fight."  Wolf heard Jeremiah saying. "The British can safely take anything they want. Nor will the Friends place a claim for damages, because they do not believe in accepting money from the government. With so many of them living in this area, the pickings are good." Jeremiah grimaced. "A perfect solution for any English general."

Wolf squeezed the tankard with both hands
. "Did the raiders return to Philadelphia?" A strange, uneasy sense of foreboding filled him.

"A few herded the livestock in that direction
. We suspect the others are still nearby, gathering additional provision for the winter. I have alerted General Washington. He will send a few squads to find them."

Reluctantly, Wolf faced White Owl
. Wolf said, "Although I have gone out during the day to track down the killers,
XhanXhan
, I have returned each evening to sing my father's soul to the sky. With deep regret, I ask your permission as our spiritual leader to allow me to search, day and night, until the men responsible for his death are found and punished."

"We have not finished our time of mourning, but
ne gwis,
your father, will understand," his grandfather said, solemnly. "With a heavy heart, I release you. Little Turtle and I and our people will sing and speed my son's heart on its journey to the sky."

"I have Washington's permission to devote my time and my small force to track down the murderers," Jeremiah pledged
.

Wolf started to refuse the offer, but he sensed his grandfather's eyes drilling into him
. They warned his grandson to still his tongue. With difficulty, Wolf managed.

"Swing low, sweet chariot. Coming for to carry me home. Swing low, sweet chariot. Coming for to carry me home," Sarah had no idea why the words to that song came into her mind, but they suited her mood. Would her chariot ever carry her home? She placed another log on the fire then stared at her hands: cuts, broken nails, torn cuticles, and blisters.
For the past three days, I have peeled, cut, sliced, and diced, if I never see another apple it will be too soon! Thank heavens, I'm finished.

She rose from her crouched position slowly
. Every muscle in her body ached. Gently, she twisted from side to side. I’d do anything for a long, hot tub bath with lots of steaming water and a touch of lavender scent. She stretched her neck from side to side.

When the backbreaking, hand-numbing chore had ended, she was sure a kind spirit would take pity on her and whisk her back to her own less physically exhausting time
. Now, doubt had replaced her hope. Reality asserted itself and chased her unrealistic and unfilled wishes aside. Her world had changed. Would she ever return? Could she return? She, who loved to plan, couldn’t even predict where she would be tomorrow. What of her friends, neighbors, job, or obligations? One thought struck hard perhaps she should never have purchased this house, since the tavern started this whole mess. Yet a small voice reminded her, if she had not, she would never have met Silver Wolf.

As s
he stirred the kettle and threw in the onions she had chopped earlier, for the hundredth time at least, she recalled her last moments with Silver Wolf. His black velvet eyes had filled her with desire. When he turned the spoon toward her, she placed her mouth where his had been, hardly aware of what she tasted. Sometimes, she had fantasied the subsequent scene, changing it from a kiss to a complete seduction. Her mind created a picture of him, not as he stood there on their last farewell, but as she had seen him when she arrived at Long Meadow Plantation, his bare chest gleaming in the sunset, his muscular arms rippling with strength, his lean thighs leading to tight buttocks. The image sent shivers racing along her spine. Then she peeled off his loin cloth and envisaged his powerful naked body pressed against hers. She steamed with desire and sighed with frustration at the uncompleted act. If Daniel had not called… A groan escaped her lips.

What would today bring?
she wondered.
Another ten hours outside and two or three hours helping in the tavern?  At least I sleep well, although getting out of bed was a bit tough.
She had to admit that she never searched for a job to do. One was always waiting. Physically, her life lacked nothing.

After pulling the cornmeal from the cupboard near the bar,
Sarah began preparing bread for breakfast. Since they had guests staying, Sarah doubled her recipe. As she stirred the ingredients, she decided on her menu, selecting eggs, sliced ham, and squirrel stew. Daniel ate and accepted any kind of food, while Benjamin had a more discerning palate. She enjoyed cooking for both of them and always fixed a large meal to start their day

The sound of voices signaled the approach of her men and the two travelers
.

"So you have no idea where the raiders are?" the older of the two lodgers asked
.

"Nay
." Benjamin motioned for the two men to precede Daniel and himself. "I advise thee to stay off the main roads and follow the Indian trails."

The wayfarers nodded
.

"Good morrow, daughter," Benjamin said as he and the other three took seats at the table nearest the hearth
.

Daniel pulled his forelock
. 

"And a good morning to thee
," she replied.

"Master Stone," the leaner of the two guests asked
. "Tell us again about the marauders that struck the farm."

Sarah
dropped the ladle in the stew and whirled around. "What farm?"  She stared at her father. 

"Robert Brinton rode by before th
ee arose," Benjamin answered, "and told Daniel raiders attacked the Miller's farm yesterday."

"Was anyone hurt?
Did they destroy the barn?" She hurled out the questions in rapid succession.

Benjamin shook his head
. "According to Friend Robert, they confiscated most of the livestock and grain, but no one was hurt and none of the buildings suffered."

"How far away do the Miller's live?" she pushed
, forgetting she should know this.

"Off Creek Road, but on the other side of the Brandywine River
." Daniel wrinkled his brow and opened his mouth as if to continue speaking.

Before he could do so and ask why she had not remembered where the Miller's lived, she tossed out another question
. "Are the brigands still in the area?"

"As I was telling our guests, no one knows," Benjamin responded
.

A sense of uneasiness invaded her as she ladled the stew into the bowls, and her hands trembled
. She hoped the English stayed on the other side of the river.

The visitors grabbed their spoons, preparing to shovel in their food
. "In our home and in our tavern," Benjamin said, "we offer thanks to God before eating."

One man grumbled, but the other bowed his head and simultaneously jammed his elbow into the complainer's side
. After a brief prayer, the guests fell upon the victuals like hungry vultures devouring a carcass.

Sarah
concentrated on lifting the cornbread from the spider pan, but could not ignore the grunts and chomping sounds made at the table. Only Benjamin and Daniel, although he forgot at times and had to be reminded, showed any etiquette. She had noticed the lack of manners before, but when she believed her life here was only temporary, the din had not disturbed her. The thought of having to experience these same slobbering noises every day, her stomach rebelled. She dumped the bread on the table and fled outside.

Benjamin followed in her wake
. "What troubles thee, daughter?" He reached out a hand, but she stepped away not wanting his comfort.

"Nothing!"  She kicked a pine cone that lay on the dirt path, sending it sailing across the open yard
.