Beyond the Quiet Hills (35 page)

Abigail Stevens greeted Jacob warmly, wishing him a happy birthday. She turned to Andrew and smiled at him brightly, saying, “I'm so glad you're home safe, Andrew. I worried about you.”

Jacob had taken this in, and as the two stood there talking, he was mildly concerned at the way Abigail seemed to light up in Andrew's presence. He had once moved closer to her, and the two of them had stayed close together ever since.

Outside the cabin Hawk was listening as George Stevens spoke of the events that had transpired since he had left the settlement to go to the war. Stevens seemed to have grown somewhat older, but he was healthy and wiry, his tall figure leaning up against the side of the cabin as he spoke slowly. There was a solidity about the man, and the gray at his temples added a touch of dignity to him.

“This fellow, Richard Henderson—he's that North Carolina man who ran the Transylvania Company. Daniel Boone seems to think a lot of him.”

“Boone's in this business, is he, George?” Hawk inquired. He was sitting down on the porch, his legs crossed, his eyes half closed against the sunshine that filtered down on his face, casting his features into shadow.

“Yes, him and Henderson are trying to strike a new deal with the Cherokee for the purchase of western Can-tuc-kee, now known as Kentucky.”

“You think it will work?” Hawk asked, his eyes opening with surprise.

“I think so,” Stevens shrugged.

Sequatchie was standing upright, leaning against one of the supports of the lean-to roof that shaded the porch. “It might if the older chiefs prevail.”

“You think they'll go along, Sequatchie?” Stevens asked eagerly. He valued the Cherokee's opinion, for no one knew the Cherokee as well as Sequatchie.

“It all depends on what the younger braves will do.” A cloud passed across the dark face of Sequatchie, and he shrugged almost imperceptibly. “As the white men come farther and farther into the Indian lands, there's bound to be trouble. Dragging Canoe wants a war almost as much as he wants anything.”

“I wonder why he's so different from his father?” Hawk pondered. “He's not at all like Attacullaculla.”

“No, he is like his grandfather. He was a warrior, too, and a fiery one,” Sequatchie said. “In a way,” he said after a pause, “it may depend on how much hold the gospel has taken.”

The men talked quietly, enjoying the peace and the sound of the women and children inside the cabin. The smells of cooking were drifting out, and there was a harmony and a sense of leisure that allowed the men to momentarily set aside their worries over marauding Indians and the problems of survival.

Finally Hawk said, “Maybe we ought to pay them for this land that we're on. Sooner or later the lease runs out, and then it'll have to be done anyway.” He leaned back and stared thoughtfully across the yard and noted that Jacob and Abigail were walking down the path that led to the creek. It caught his interest, and he lost track of the conversation between Sequatchie and Stevens as his eyes followed them.
Something going on there
, he mused.
They're mighty young, but people marry younger out here
.

****

Jacob had tired of the conversation among the men and had stepped inside to ask Abigail to go for a walk. The two young people had left the cabin and had taken the path leading down to the creek. When they reached the bank, Jacob touched the water with the toe of his boot. “It's going to be cold soon,” he murmured. “This will be frozen over. I knew a fellow once,” he said, “that came from up north. He said they cut holes in the ice and caught fish through them.”

“It would be pretty uncomfortable, wouldn't it?”

“I suppose so, but if a fellow wants to catch fish, he has to do it any way he can.”

Abigail was wearing a thin sweater she had knitted the previous winter. It was too small for her now and not warm enough, and she shivered. “I'll be glad when spring comes,” she murmured. “I love the spring best of all with everything budding and the earth coming to life again.”

Jacob listened as Abigail spoke of the spring. He had planned this moment for some time, but now that it had come he was hesitant. Still, he began resolutely and caught Abigail off guard when he suddenly reached out and touched her. She was facing the creek, and when he swung her around and looked, he saw surprise in her eyes.

“Why, Jacob, what is it?”

Jacob said quickly, “I think maybe you know what it is. You surely know by this time how I care for you, Abby.” Then, as if he were afraid to slow down his speech, he stumbled over the next words. “I . . . I want us to get married, as soon as we can.”

Abigail was shocked. She had expected that someday Jacob would ask her to marry him, but she had thought it would be far off in some distant time. Now as they stood there under the pale November sky with the rustling of dry branches overhead and the dead leaves underfoot, she could not answer for a moment. Like all young girls, she had thought about the day when some man would ask her to be his wife, but now that the moment had come she found herself reluctant to speak her heart. In truth she did not know her heart, and as Jacob continued to speak, telling her what a great life they could have, she finally knew that she had to say something.

“Why, Jacob, that's the greatest honor any man can give to a woman, and I am fond of you. But—”

“But what?” Jacob said, his tone somewhat strident. He saw doubt in her eyes and grew somewhat panicky. “What's the matter? Don't you care for me at all, Abby?”

“Why, I'm very fond of you, but it's caught me by surprise. I . . . I need some time to think it over.”

Jacob suddenly reached out and pulled Abigail into his embrace. She did not resist, and as he bent his head and let his lips fall on hers, the pressure of her firm young body against his stirred him. Her lips were soft and yielding, and there was a sweet fragrance about her that seemed to go to his head, causing him almost to be dizzy. She was all that he thought a woman should be, pretty and yielding, soft and warm, and he held her tightly, his lips pressing harder against hers.

As for Abigail, she gave herself to his embrace with a willingness that surprised her. She felt the pressure of his arms drawing her ever closer and added her own pressure to the kiss, letting her hands go behind his neck. She held on to him for a moment, then pulled back, somewhat embarrassed by the stirring of her heart.

“I have to have time, Jacob.”

“That's all right. I can wait.”

The two walked along the creek, saying little but holding hands. Jacob's hand was strong and held hers tightly, and finally, when they turned to go back, she was thinking,
He'd probably make a very good husband—and he's so handsome
. She squeezed his hand and Jacob once again leaned forward. She kissed him lightly, then put her hand on his chest. “That's enough now. This might get to be a habit.”

Jacob smiled at her, saying, “I hope so. That's what I had in mind.”

The two made their way back to the cabin, and a warmth came to Jacob, and a happiness, and he felt that after all these lonely years his life was now complete.
Eventually
, he thought,
she'll say yes, then everything will be all right
. . . .

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Plans for the Future

Daniel Boone looked over the small group that had gathered in January 1775 to listen to what Richard Henderson of the Transylvania Company had to say. He had arrived with Henderson at Sycamore Shoals to meet with the Cherokee, and now as he looked over the Watauga Court, he said, “We've already met, Mr. Henderson and I, with Attacullaculla.”

“That's right,” Henderson said quickly. He was a wiry man of about forty-five with alert gray eyes and a pleasing smile. Now he waved his hand, saying, “We went to the Overhill towns and brought the Little Carpenter and his wife to North Carolina to see the trade goods that would be part of the purchase of the land.”

“How did the Little Carpenter react?” Sequatchie asked.

“Oh, very well!” Henderson smiled at the Cherokee. “He's asked the leaders of the tribes to meet there to work out the details of the sale.” He shifted uneasily for a moment and cleared his throat, then asked, “I wonder if it would be possible for you gentlemen to encourage the settlers in this area to feed all the people who'll be gathering?”

John Carter answered for the group. Stroking his chin thoughtfully, he said, “Well, it's short notice, but we had a good crop last year. I think we could work out something.”

John Carter, Jacob Brown, and James Robertson were sitting together, and it was Robertson who said after a time, “Mr. Henderson, do you think it would be possible to arrange to buy our land here around Watauga? Since the chiefs are here and they're in a good mood, I'd like to get this thing settled.”

Henderson thought for a moment, then nodded. “I don't see why not. I'll tell you what. Let us make the rest of the arrangements, and then after that's done, you can make your deal separately. How will this be?”

“It sounds good,” Carter said. “Well, we need to talk about the price to be paid.”

“I've got to go on home,” Hawk said. “Whatever you decide will be fine by me.”

Hawk left the meeting and swung onto his horse, then rode at a fast gallop toward his own place. When he reached home, he stepped inside and Elizabeth greeted him with a kiss.

“I hope you feel like cooking,” he said.

“Why, don't I always?”

“Well, it's going to be a little bit more than that. Mr. Henderson wants all of us to pitch in to feed the Indians as they come to talk about selling us their lands.”

“Oh, we can do that,” Elizabeth said cheerfully.

“I hope it goes through. I'd like to buy this place. I don't feel quite settled just leasing it. It's like someday somebody could say, ‘Okay, it's time for you to move on.'”

“Do you think it's possible to buy from the Indians? Will they sell?”

“I think so.”

The two sat down before the fire talking and watching Hannah and Joshua play, and the children came in. Finally, after Hawk explained what was going to happen, he said, “I've got to go tell the Stevenses.”

“Why, I'll do that, Pa,” Jacob said at once.

Hawk grinned and winked at Elizabeth. “Oh, I wouldn't want to put you to all that trouble, Jacob.”

Jacob flushed, for he knew his leg was being pulled. “Come on, Pa. Let a fellow alone, will you?”

“All right. You go pass the word along to George and Deborah—and give Abigail a kiss for me, will you?”

Sarah giggled, and Jacob plunged out the door, grabbing his coat from a peg and slipping into it as he stepped off the porch.

When he reached the Stevenses' house, Jacob found George and Deborah inside, and after he spoke to Abigail, he turned and gave them the news. George Stevens listened intently and nodded. “That's good sense. We've got to keep the Indians happy, though it will be a lot of work for you, Deborah, and the other ladies.”

“I wouldn't mind, especially if we could buy this place, George.”

Abigail said, “Sit down and I'll fix you something to eat, Jacob.”

Willing enough to spend any time with Abigail, Jacob sat down and watched as she prepared some johnny cakes. When they were cooked, she sat down with him and watched him eat. Afterward, he glanced over at Abigail's mother and said abruptly, “Did that old cat of yours ever have kittens?”

“Yes, they're out in the barn. Would you like to see them?”

“Sure.”

He and Abigail got up, put on their coats, and made their way out to the barn. Abigail led him to a corner where the gray tabby was lying sleepily with seven kittens that were crawling all over her.

“Aren't they precious?” Abigail crooned, picking up one and holding it to her cheek.

“
You
are,” Jacob grinned. “I don't think about cats being too precious. They're just cats to me.”

“You have no romance in your soul, Jacob. They are precious.”

Jacob was content to watch Abigail as she picked up each kitten and spoke to it. Her smooth complexion was reddened by the cold, which made her that much more attractive. Finally, when every kitten had been addressed, she turned to him and said, “We'd better go back.”

“Abby,” Jacob said and reached out to put his hand on her shoulder. “I don't want to rush you, and I think I've been patient, but have you made up your mind about us?”

Abigail had known that Jacob had come for this purpose. Ever since he had asked her to marry him, she had thought of little else, and now she took a deep breath. Looking up at him she said, “Jacob, I'll be honored to be your wife.”

At once Jacob reached out and hugged her, kissed her thoroughly, and said, “I'd like to whoop like a wild Indian.”

“Don't do that,” Abigail laughed. She was pleased that he was happy and then said quickly, “You'll have to ask Pa.”

“Does he know about us?”

“I think he's got a pretty good idea, although I haven't said anything to him. I talked to Mama, though, and she's probably told him by now.”

“Well, if he says no, I'll have to steal you away,” Jacob grinned.

“He won't say no,” Abigail said confidently as she took his arm. She was happy now that it was settled, and the two made their way into the cabin, where Jacob at once spoke of his desire to marry Abigail, then stood there waiting somewhat nervously.

“I'm afraid you didn't catch us off guard, Jacob,” George said. He put his hand out and said, “I'd be glad to have you as a son-in-law. You're getting a good girl.”

Deborah came over and reached up to Jacob and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You'll be a good husband, and you two will be very happy.”