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Authors: Aaron McCarver

Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042000, #FIC026000

Beyond the Quiet Hills (24 page)

BOOK: Beyond the Quiet Hills
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“You're not paying attention, Jacob!” Hawk said with some irritation. He hardly knew what he was saying, for his mind was back in the cabin, and he did not see the hurt look that crossed Jacob's face. “Try it again!” he said impatiently.

Jacob bit his lip and loaded the rifle. He had gotten to be quick at this, pouring the black powder into the pan, then a measured amount down the long barrel, followed by the musket ball, and then a wad on top, all shoved down with a ramrod. Replacing the ramrod in the clips on the stock, he took careful aim but missed again by a greater margin than before.

Hawk had been watching and now said, “Why don't you listen to what I'm saying? Look, I'll show you!”

Jacob, however, whirled and walked away angrily.

“Wait a minute, Jake!” Hawk halfheartedly called after him, but Jacob paid no attention.

Andrew looked at Hawk and said, “I think you hurt his feelings, Pa. I'll go talk to him.”

As Andrew ran after Jacob, Sequatchie spoke for the first time. “That was not well, my friend.”

“No. I shouldn't have shouted at him.”

“I know you are worried.”

“Any man would be worried, I suppose.”

“It is not just Elizabeth you think about.”

Hawk blinked in surprise, thinking he had misunderstood. “What do you mean by that?”

“You are thinking of your first wife.”

Hawk had long ago given up trying to figure out how Sequatchie could read his thoughts. There was something almost eerie about the way the tall Cherokee could often tell what he was thinking.

Hawk moved restlessly, his eyes troubled. “I thought it would be all right, Elizabeth having a baby, even though Faith died. I thought it would be different this time.”

“But it is not?”

“I keep thinking about how Faith died. I thought I'd be able to trust God. I know He's able, but, Sequatchie, now that the time is here I . . . I remember how happy I was when Jacob was on the way, and then when Faith died I just went crazy. It keeps coming back into my mind. I can't put it out.”

“Elizabeth is in God's hands. That is the best place for anyone to be.”

Hawk nodded but still looked apprehensive. He stood uncertainly, not knowing whether to go talk to Jacob, but then Sequatchie spoke up.

“I think someone else is thinking of your first wife, too.”

“Of Faith? Why, who could that be?”

“I think her son may have her on his mind. Didn't you see his face and how his hands are not steady? He can shoot better than he did today.”

“I never thought—”

“He's probably hurting on this day just as you are. I think you should go speak to him.”

“Yes. I will.” Hawk nodded, tried to smile, then left the hill at a run. He found the two boys at the well outside the house, and he heard Jacob saying, “Leave me alone, Andrew! Just get away from me!”

“Andrew,” Hawk said, coming to a stop, “let me talk to your brother alone.”

“All right, Pa.”

Waiting until Andrew had gotten out of hearing, Hawk turned to face Jacob. He hesitated, awkward and uncertain. With part of his mind he was listening to the faint cry that he heard inside the cabin, but he said slowly, “It seems like I have to spend most of my time apologizing for things I do to you, Jacob.” He waited for the boy to speak up, but Jacob said nothing. “I know you're thinking about your mother.”

Surprise filled Jacob's eyes, and he turned quickly to look at Hawk. His eyes narrowed, but he did not speak, waiting for Hawk to say more.

“You know, son, even though I love Elizabeth very much, I still think about your mother. And I know that Elizabeth still thinks of Patrick, too. That doesn't mean we love each other any less. I can't understand why your mother died, but the only way to handle something like that is just to trust God to do what's best for His children.”

Jacob had a bitterness that came to his lips almost unbidden. “Was it best that I be left alone for most of my life?”

With anguish in his eyes, Hawk shook his head. “We've been over this. I told you how it grieves me, son, the things that I've done. I turned my back on God and behaved very foolishly. All I can say is that I know I love you, and I'll do the best I can for you now and all the rest of my life.”

At that moment Deborah Stevens suddenly appeared at the door. “Hawk!” she cried out, and when he turned he saw that she was smiling. “You'd better come inside and see your wife and your new daughter.”

Hawk let out a whoop that carried over the yard and clear away to where Sequatchie heard it and appeared, running toward the cabin. Hawk started past Jacob and said, “Come on. You can see your new sister.”

“No. You go on in. I'll come in a minute.”

Hawk barely heard, so frantic was he to see Elizabeth, and he disappeared at once. Sequatchie came running up to Jacob and asked, “The baby's come?”

“Yes.” Then Jacob suddenly asked, “Sequatchie?”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember you promised to take me back whenever I asked? Well, maybe it's time.”

“Why would you say it is time now?”

“Things aren't working out.”

“Why would you say that? You are becoming a good hunter, but it takes time to become a long hunter. Another year and you will be as good a man in the woods as your father.”

“I don't know. I just know I can't stay here.”

“Maybe it's because you don't want it to work out,” Sequatchie observed. His keen eyes were glowing, and he said, “It would crush your father and the rest of the family if you left now. You would miss seeing your new sister grow up. You need a family. You didn't have anyone for so long, and now you have a father and a mother and a brother and two sisters.” He laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. “And you have me for an older brother—or another father, if you would have it so.”

Jacob stared at the bronze face of Sequatchie and could not answer. Uncertainty ran through him, and he finally mumbled, “I just don't know, Sequatchie.”

“Wait a few days. If you don't change your mind, I will honor our agreement. Now,” he said urgently, “go inside and see your new sister.”

“All right, I will.” Jacob turned and entered the cabin, followed by Sequatchie. He found Deborah Stevens washing her hands in a basin, and she nodded at them.

“You can go in, but not for long.”

Jacob wanted to turn and run from the cabin, but Sequatchie was there with him, his dark eyes fixed on him. Stiffly he walked inside the door to the bedroom and then stopped dead still.

Elizabeth's face was pale, and lines of strain marred its smoothness. But after one glance at her, Jacob stared at his father, who was sitting on the bed beside Elizabeth holding a tiny bundle. The eyes of Hawk Spencer, Jacob saw, were filled with love. His face, which could be so stern in times of danger or of trouble, was now gentle, and a smile softened the hard lines of his mouth. Looking up and seeing Jacob, he held the baby up and said, “Come and greet your sister, Jake.”

For a moment Jacob just stood there, then Hawk said, “Come. Take her.”

Jacob moved forward awkwardly and took the tiny bundle. The baby was wrapped in a linen towel, and looking down at the red face, he stroked the soft hair as he studied the infant. “She's so little,” he whispered. He held the baby as if she were a fragile and very precious burden. He could not stop looking at her face. Until this moment the baby had not been real to him, but now he knew that this flesh and blood was
his
flesh and blood. He even imagined that she looked somewhat like the Spencers, but with honey-colored hair, and the same shaped face, in miniature, as his father and he himself had. He was unaware that everyone in the room was looking at him—Sequatchie standing just inside the door, Sarah and Andrew off to one side, Elizabeth from her bed, and Hawk, as he stood looking down at him.

“Your sister's name is Hannah Faith Spencer,” Hawk said quietly.

Jacob looked questioningly at him. “After my mother?”

“It was Elizabeth's idea to name her Faith.”

Somehow this touched Jacob more than anything had in his memory. Suddenly, without warning, two things happened. He could not help smiling down at the baby, and at the same time he felt his eyes suddenly overflow with tears. Strangely enough, for all his pride, he did not care that the tears ran down his cheeks. He stood there holding the child, totally oblivious of the smiles on the faces around him.

“She'll need a big brother to watch out for her,” Elizabeth said.

Sequatchie looked at Jacob carefully. He saw something in the youthful face that pleased him, and he thought,
This will keep him here. He has found out what it means to have a family
.

Chapter Seventeen

Bread Rounds

The winter of 1772 to 1773 had been mild. Spring had come now with all of its softness and gentleness, erasing from the memory of the settlers the light snows and the one hard freeze. As always, the spring seemed to bring a new time of hope, and a spirit of expectation had come to the dwellers at Watauga.

The Spencer cabin was now enlarged. Hawk had added another full-sized room, joining it by a walkway through the middle of the two structures. Since the dogs slept in it, it was called the dog trot, and oftentimes at night the sleepers inside would awaken to hear the dogs' claws scratching on the board floor between the two rooms. It had a loft, the same as the first structure, so that now Andrew and Jacob shared it, while Sarah had the old room over the original structure.

Paul and Rhoda Anderson had come for supper on Friday night. They had just returned a week earlier after spending all winter preaching the gospel among the Cherokee. Rhoda was holding the eight-month-old Hannah Faith in her arms and cooing down at her.

“She's got her mother's green eyes,” she said, smiling up at Elizabeth. “And look, her hair's the color of honey.” Elizabeth, who had just taken a pie out of the Dutch oven before the fireplace, smiled. She was content now. The baby was healthy and already filling the cabin with her meaningless sounds that she thought was talk.

Across the room Paul and Sequatchie were speaking with Hawk. It was Sequatchie who said, “Some of the Cherokee are still not happy about the leasing of their lands.”

“Been peaceful enough.”

“Yes, but some of the younger warriors don't want it that way, Hawk,” Paul said. His eyes now on Rhoda, he thought,
I wish Rhoda and I could have a baby. It's done so much for Elizabeth
.

Hawk did not miss the wistful look in his friend's eyes, but he said nothing of it. “We'll talk to the leaders of the community and see what can be done.”

The men sat there talking until the meal was set on the table. They plunged into the fried chicken, biscuits and gravy, sweet potatoes with sliced apples on top, and early peas from the garden, and afterward when Rhoda and Elizabeth were cleaning up, Elizabeth asked, “Tell me more about your trip. Were the Indians receptive to the gospel?”

“Oh yes. Some of them were. It's hard to tell,” Rhoda said. “They come and they sit. Some of them like the singing, but their way of life is so different from ours.” She was putting mugs back on pegs in the cabinet and said, “I'm still having a hard time, Elizabeth.”

“You mean about being a preacher's wife?”

“Yes. I still don't feel worthy.”

“Have you talked to Paul about it?”

Rhoda turned and said with exasperation, “I've tried, but he thinks I'm wonderful!”

“Well, that must be awful, having to listen to that kind of talk all the time.”

Rhoda caught the grin on Elizabeth's face and could not stop the smile that came to her own lips. “I should be thankful for what God's given me, and I am, but I feel so inadequate.”

Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. She was a thoughtful woman who liked to hold things in her mind for a time, and she had thought often of what Rhoda had said about feeling unworthy. She had prayed about it, and now she said firmly, “I think what you've just said is against God.” Seeing Rhoda's shocked look, Elizabeth said quickly, “I think that when someone gets down on themselves, that's a form of pride, and the Bible says that God hates that worse than any sin.”

“Why, I'm not prideful! I've got nothing to be prideful about.”

“I don't think you mean to be, but you're always talking about the things you say you lack. Do you think it was God's will, Rhoda, for you to marry Paul?”

Rhoda was still now, caught by what Elizabeth had said. She had thought this over many times, and Paul had helped her with it. “Yes,” she said. “I really believe it was.”

“Do you believe, then, that God's called him to be a minister?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, certainly you don't think God would give Paul a wife who would be a hindrance. He would give him one who would be a helper.” Wiping her hands on the towel, she came over to stand beside Rhoda. She studied the strong features of her friend for a time, then said, “Rhoda, God has forgotten your past, and the people on the frontier, including the Cherokee, have no problems with it.”

Rhoda stood quietly as Elizabeth talked to her, and finally she grew encouraged. “You've been such a help to me, Elizabeth. Paul tries to help me, but women need other women, don't they?”

“Yes, and they need the grace of God so they can do what He wants them to do.”

Rhoda smiled openly and with relief, and the two pulled up chairs and sat down, talking for a while. Afterward they each prayed for God to bless the other and to be wives who would be pleasing to God.

****

The Watauga Association Court had rarely met during the winter, but now Hawk sat back and listened as Carter, Robertson, and others went over the problems and the plans of the group. He had little to say, for these two men were far more able than he, he felt, to take the lead in this sort of thing. Finally, however, when there was a pause and John Carter said, “Is there any other business?” Hawk did speak up.

BOOK: Beyond the Quiet Hills
5.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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