Hell on the Prairie (12 page)

“
Come, Leah, let’s wash up these
dishes.” Josie stood abruptly, and reluctantly, Leah followed. It
was clear this was a conversation for the men alone, one she did
not want to miss.

“
Let’s go outside,” Austen
said.

“
Papa –” Sarah started.

Austen knelt and gave his daughter a quick
kiss. “You wait for me. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She nodded and turned away.

Derrick walked to the door, waiting for
Austen. A shot of envy went through him, unfamiliar and surprising
in its intensity. He’d never wanted children. But ever since he’d
come here with Austen, he’d gotten a feeling of coming home. And
the closeness between Austen and his family set up a yearning in
Derrick that he’d never acknowledged before. It played on the hurt
that had been an open wound all his life between his ‘father’ and
him; the constant feeling of not fitting anywhere within his own
family. Once again, his life was in turmoil. It seemed he was
doomed either to be courting death or dying slowly of the boredom
of a routine he despised. Farming was not what he’d expected from
his life.

But…what
did
he want? Surely not the solitary existence
he’d led as a young boy, feeling separated somehow from everyone
and everything. Not the rigors he’d set out for when he’d joined
the Confederacy, and certainly not the harshness he’d fallen into
with Jim Danby’s raiders.

Still, going back to Wolf Creek and trying
to take over the farm and make a go of it had been excruciating in
its sameness. If he knew anything, he knew he wasn’t a farmer. And
seeing Austen with his family made Derrick more aware than ever
that his life was most likely half over and he had not one damn
thing to show for it.

He opened the door with a little more force
than was necessary, drawing a raised eyebrow from his old friend as
he followed Derrick out onto the porch.

“
Walk with me,” Austen said in a firm
tone. They started down toward the gentle slope of the nearby
branch of Boggy River, where they had all played as
youngsters.

After a moment, Austen spoke. “You need to
find your balance.”

Derrick smiled, thinking of another
friend who often spoke of
balance
. Charley. “Easier said than
done.”

Austen nodded. “Yes, and especially hard for
you, being a half blood, one foot in our culture and one in the
Anglo world. This was something your mother should have told you
long ago.”

“
It must have been a terrible
shame
to her,” Derrick muttered.
“That’s the only reason I can think of that she didn’t.”

Austen’s look was almost pitying as he
stopped a few feet from the rushing water. “Truly? The
only
reason?”

“
What else?”

“
A terrible
love
, Derrick. Did you ever think that maybe she
tried to forget Ridge? Because she had to leave him
behind?”

“
No,” Derrick answered
flatly.

“
That’s because you’ve never had that
kind of feeling for another. If you had,” Austen went on, “–you
would understand.” His gaze was steady, until finally Derrick
turned away.

“
Why not tell me, though?”

“
Because then
you
would have had a choice. How could a mother
choose among her children? That’s why she went when your father
decided to go. To arm you with the truth would have given you the
power to have broken up the family…don’t you see?”

Derrick gave a short laugh, turning
back to face his friend. “I’m trying, Austen. But what keeps
hitting me in the face is the memory of me leaving here; everything
I ever knew. Leaving Carson behind –my best friend, and my
brother
.”

“
The path was made
for
you before. Now, it’s up to you to
choose
it.”

Derrick nodded. “I want to see my
father.”

“
He’ll send for you when –”

“
No. I’m not going to see
the statesman
, Collin Ridge. I’m
going to see my
father
.”

***

Twilight had fallen and was on the way to
complete darkness as Derrick made his way down the street.

The houses clustered respectably together
for most of the length of the rutted dirt road, then gave way to
the businesses and finally, the saloon. The music and laughter
spilled out at the end of the street, but Derrick wasn’t going that
far.

He stopped in front of the cabin where
he’d left his mother earlier. Two kerosene lamps hung on either
side of the door.
Odd, how such a tiny bit
of light could seem so welcoming.

From inside, there was a soft glow in most
of the front rooms. He slowly walked up the front steps, and raised
his hand to knock. Before he could, the bolt slid back from inside,
and the door swung open.

He recognized another of Carson’s sisters,
Talita, the eldest. She smiled broadly, and he stepped forward to
hug her.

“
Welcome home, Derrick,” she said
softly.

As she stepped back to look at him, he saw
the uncertainty in her face.

“
It’s good to be here,
sister.”

She hugged him again. “I’m so glad –” She
broke off, as if she were afraid of saying too much.

“
Where is my father?” he asked
bluntly.

“
He and your mother are in here.” She
shut the door and turned to lead him across the front room and down
a small hallway, pausing to knock at the first door they came
to.

“
Father, you have a visitor,” she
called out in Cherokee.

“
Send him in,” a deep voice
answered.

Derrick opened the door, leaving it ajar
behind him. His mother rose quickly from her chair beside the
bed.

“
Derrick –”

“
Leave us, please,” he said, his eyes
connecting with his father’s.

“
But –”

“
I need some answers. I intend to get
them.”

Ridge motioned her out. “He’s right, Fiona.
It’s past time for this.”

Silently, she walked to the door,
closing it behind her with a quiet
click
.

Derrick hesitated a moment, unsure of his
next move. He tried to tamp down the happiness he felt at seeing
his father –especially now that the truth was known between
them.

Ridge smiled at him, looking much the same
as he had seventeen years earlier, his dark eyes a mirror image of
Derrick’s own.

Collin Ridge looked remarkably healthy
–for a man who was dying. Suspicion niggled at the back of
Derrick’s mind.
What, exactly, was wrong
with his father?
He took a step forward as Ridge
shifted in the bed to a more upright position.

“
Please,” his father indicated the
chair with a sweeping motion of his hand. “Sit down.”

After a moment, Derrick took the chair
Fiona had just vacated. “Are you tired,
e
do da
?”

Ridge’s eyes crinkled. “You ask of my
health, as you call me ‘Father’ for the first time.” He scrutinized
Derrick before continuing. “I had thought to be met with your
anger.”

Derrick shook his head. “I’m
just…disappointed.”

Ridge nodded. “I know. I’ve lived with
disappointment –and loss –as well. My family has been incomplete.
At least, when you lived among us, I saw you often. When your
mother’s husband realized what had happened, there was no choice
for your mother. To stay with me would mean leaving your brothers
and sister. The only way to keep you all together was to move with
him when he left for Kansas.”

“
I understand that. But what I don’t
understand is why she never told me.”

Ridge laughed. “Perhaps she believed you’d
be happier not knowing.”

As his father’s meaning hit him, Derrick
shook his head. “She wasn’t ashamed of what happened between you.”
He didn’t want to betray his sister to his mother, but things had
to be dealt with. “Can we keep this between us?”

Ridge nodded. “Of course. It goes no farther
than these walls.”

“
All right. My sister, Kathleen, found
some letters in Ma’s things. One was written to my fath –Andrew
McCain. She explained in quite some detail, according to Kathleen,
that she realized she had made a mistake in staying with him.”
Derrick looked down, not sure how much he should say about the
other letter Kathleen had told him about. The one his mother had
written to the man sitting before him. “The other letter, she’d
written to
you
; she –she
always loved you.”

“
I know that, son. I only meant –maybe
your mother sought to ease the way for you in the white world by
keeping your Cherokee blood from you.” A faint grin curved his
lips. “Though I don’t know how she thought to hide it from you
forever. You and Carson look so much alike. You and I –” He shook
his head. “I would have known you anywhere. You remind me of myself
–many years ago.” He paused. “If she could have chosen a different
path –stayed here with me –things would have been easier for you;
so much easier. You know it is our way that our society is
matrilineal. With her blood and mine, you would have had the best
of both our worlds. If she had become a Cherokee citizen, as her
son, you’d be one, too. You could have been a leader.”

“
Like you?” Derrick grinned as he
spoke. “Follow in your footsteps?”

His father nodded. “Maybe with even more
respect and power than I’ve had, son,” he said softly. “But your
mother couldn’t stay here, and at the time…I already had a wife. I
only think about what might have been if our circumstances had been
otherwise. You have the heart of a leader.”

Derrick was quiet. Hearing his father speak
made him realize that he wasn’t the only one who’d had
opportunities taken from him. The wistful note in his father’s
voice let him understand that Collin Ridge had had some unrealized
hopes and dreams that had never come to fruition, either. Finally,
Derrick said, “I’ve lost so much. So many years –”

“
We
all
have, Derrick. But now is the time to change
that and to move forward.”

“
Now that you’re –sick?” He couldn’t
say
dying
; to do so would
allow death entry to his thoughts more strongly.

“
I’m feeling better, son. Just having
you and your mother here with me –it’s helping.”

Derrick’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve seen a
lot of dying men. You’re not
too
near death’s door.”

Ridge smiled. “Again, that’s a matter that
will remain between you and me, Derrick. I’m going to make a …full
recovery…with time. You know how women like to fuss. I will not let
her worry, but we need this time together.”

Derrick didn’t say anything.

“
Your mother would not have come if I
but asked her. And you –” He shifted in the bed. “Why haven’t you
come before now? Carson told me he’d seen you months ago –that you
now knew the full story –”

Derrick shook his head. “Not all of it.”

“
Enough to have come before now.”
Ridge’s words were chiding, but Derrick didn’t take
offense.

“
I’ve thought of it –time and again,”
he admitted. “To discover that you are my father –that Carson is
not only my childhood friend, but also my brother –and that I have
two sisters as well…” He wasn’t sure how to continue. He looked
down, studying the floor. “I’ve done some bad things in my
life,
e do da
.”

Ridge moved to sit up on the edge of
the bed, facing Derrick. “We all have regrets, Derrick. Can you
imagine how I felt, having to allow Andrew McCain raise my son? Oh,
yes, Andrew was a well-respected man in the community. He was
educated. But the way he raised you and your brothers, your sister
–with an iron fist –the way he tried to control your mother
–Still,” he went on after a moment, “it takes a man to raise
another man’s son. And there was no doubt you were
my
son. It was…very plain to see.
Things would have been different, had your mother and I been free
to follow our hearts.”

“
I left, first chance I
got.”

Ridge gave Derrick a thin smile. “I know.
You were loyal to the man you thought was your father. He must have
done something right, raising you, to instill that in your heart. I
know he didn’t treat you well, son. What I said was true. It takes
a man to raise another man’s son –but I should have added, ‘with
kindness in his heart, no matter the circumstances’.”

Derrick shrugged. “Didn’t seem like much of
that in him at all –at least, not toward me.”

Ridge looked away. “You were the son of the
man he thought would steal his wife away. Not that he loved her.
She was a habit with him by the time you were conceived. Just
property, in a way. Even though your mother was aware of that, she
knew she must go with him to keep the family together.”

“
But later –”

“
Fiona had no choice but to stay where
she was, by then, in a white community. She was a widowed white
woman with a white daughter. It was too late for her to come back
here, she felt. She has sacrificed everything in her life for her
children, Derrick. Don’t think too harshly of her.”