Tea and Tomahawks (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX

A
fter breakfast the next morning, Annie walked down to the end of the driveway to get the mail. There were no strange dreams, no sleepwalking, and she’d had the bed to herself. Richard wouldn’t be back until the weekend and for that she felt more than grateful.

A colorful advertisement for a yarn shop caught her eye. The prices were reasonable, and she made a mental note to take a trip into town to look around.

The sound of a growling engine made her look up at the road.

“Pardon me, ma’am.” A man leaned out of the driver’s side window. “But if you wouldn’t mind?”

Annie realized she was standing in the middle of the driveway. “Oh!” she said, moving to the side. Grandmother hadn’t told her they were having visitors. “I’m so sorry.”

“No worries, ma’am.” He pulled into the driveway and paused. “Can I give you a ride up to the house?” The driver, a dark copper-colored man with the whitest smile she’d ever seen, nodded to her. “Only if you like.”

A warmth worked its way up her face. Feeling as if she’d been hit with a hammer, she took a step back. “Oh, no. No, thank you,” she said. “I-I need the exercise.”

The slightly amused expression on his face told her he didn’t believe a word she said. He touched the brim of his hat and nodded. “Then I’ll see you up there.”

“Yes.” Annie stood and watched the black pickup roll up to the house. By only strength of will, she kept herself from chasing after it. Instead, she forced herself to take slow, measured steps, pausing to take note of the trees, the birds and anything else that would keep her occupied.

Even with all her machinations, she circled around the back of the truck and climbed the porch just in time to nearly collide with the stranger coming out of the front door.

Grandmother followed. “There you are, Annie.” She settled herself into a chair on the front porch. “This is Hassee. He’s going to be doing some work in the attic. Those old walls ain’t what they used to be. Plus, he’s not going to overcharge me either, are you, Hassee?”

“No, ma’am.” Hassee pulled a battered toolbox from the back of his truck and placed it on the graveled drive. “I know better than to cheat a lady.”

“Damn straight.” Grandmother laughed. “Hassee, come here and meet my granddaughter, Annalise. She’s spending some time with me for the summer, keeping me company.”

Hassee turned from the truck and mounted the steps to the porch. He took off his hat before taking her hand in a gentle, warm grip. “Nice to meet you, Annalise.”

“Likewise,” Annie replied in a faint voice. When he released her hand, she sank in a chair next to her Grandmother and stared.

The rich brownish red of his skin glowed in the bright morning sun. Black curly hair was raked back into a ponytail at the base of his neck. The faded black T-shirt was a perfect foil for the heavy muscles on his chest and arms, kept that way no doubt, by the work he did.

Richard would have three types of fits if he knew about this.

“Your husband don’t need to know jack about what’s going on in this house.” Grandmother seemed to be reading her thoughts. “When I need things fixed, I call in who I need to.” She pushed up from the chair. “Let’s go have some breakfast.”

~* * * *~

The normally quiet atmosphere was broken with the sound of a saw, nail gun, and the occasional muffled curse. Annie usually read after her walk with Grandmother around the grounds, but mid-morning found her unable to concentrate on the paperback book she’d brought with her. She wandered down to the deserted kitchen and poured herself a glass of sweet tea. Nothing in the refrigerator appealed to her, so she tip-toed to the third floor, drawn by curiosity. Annie lingered around the base of the narrow staircase leading to the attic. There was absolutely no reason for her to go up there, but she spent a good ten minutes trying to think of one.

“Annie, lunch is here!” Grandmother called from the first floor.

Startled, Annie jumped and knocked against an ancient vase placed on a pedestal in the corner. She steadied it with a racing heart, praying the handyman wouldn’t decide to investigate. After setting things to rights, she hurried down the stairs.

“Hassee, short for Tallahassee, is the grandson of an old friend of mine who passed a couple years back.” Grandmother picked at her potato salad. “He’s been a handyman around the town for years. Does a good job and doesn’t waste half your time trying to talk the price up.” The ice cubes clinked in Grandmother’s glass as she took a swallow of her special black tea mix.

“That’s nice.” Annie ate her half sandwich in three big bites. All of a sudden, she was very hungry. “He seems to be working diligently. I haven’t seen him all morning.”

Grandmother’s eyes held a wicked glint over the rim of her glass. “Well, it is almost time for his break.” She pointed at a box sitting on the sideboard. “Why don’t you take that up to him?”

Annie’s eyes stretched wide at the prospect. She opened her mouth to demur, but she knew Grandmother wasn’t going to take no for answer. Brushing the crumbs from her hands, she rose from the table and picked up the cardboard box. She’d trot the lunch upstairs with a quickness, then go to her room for some reading and napping.

The staircase to the attic was narrow, and every step creaked under her sneakers. Nevertheless, when she approached the open attic door, Hassee’s back was to her. For a short moment, she admired the flex of his muscles as he guided the circular saw across a board, even as the noise made her wince. When there was a pause in the whining of the saw, she rapped the doorjamb with her knuckles. “Grandmother sent me up with your lunch,” she said when he turned around. She held the box out like an offering. “Where would you like it?”

“There.” He pointed to an old straight back chair. “I’ve got a bit to finish up before I break for lunch.” Hassee gave her a brief smile. “I appreciate you bringing it up.”

“Oh, sure.” Annie placed the box on the chair, acting as if she brought lunches up to handsome men like him all the time. “Glad to help.” She raised a hand in a little wave. “I’ll be getting along, then.”

Annie backed toward the doorway, then turned and hopped down the attic stairs as fast as her feet would take her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“H
ave Hassee take you.”

Annie glanced up from the phone book, where she’d been flipping through the pages, searching for a taxi service to take her to town. Her books were boring her, and she wanted to do something with her hands. The circular from the yarn shop she’d retrieved from the mail two days ago fell off the foyer table when she walked by, and she considered that a sign. There was nothing like new yarn to spark her creativity and get her fingers moving on a new afghan.

Suppressing the excited leap in her chest, Annie frowned. “What?”

Grandmother poured a steaming cup of coffee from her one-cup maker. “Have Hassee take you into town. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Grandmother, I’m married.”

The old woman laughed. “Now, who’s jumping to conclusions, Annie, dear? It’s not a date.”

Annie pressed her lips together and turned away to hide her blush. “I’m sure he’s busy.”

“He’ll be glad to do it. I’ll ask him when he gets here.” Her grandmother was so transparent as to be embarrassing.

“Grandmother, no. I’ll call a cab. It can’t cost that much.” Even as she spoke, she heard the low rumble of the truck coming up the drive.

Grandmother Lise was already on the porch. She certainly could move fast when she wanted to.

Resigned to her fate, Annie closed the phone book and replaced it on the sideboard. She would be as quick as possible. She needed just to run into the yarn shop and run right back out. She nodded.
No more than twenty minutes
. It would be rude to keep him waiting longer than that.

On her way out to the porch, she checked her hair in the mirror hanging in the foyer. After an hour of tussling with the curling iron and sleeping in rollers, her hair looked halfway decent. She shook her head at herself in the mirror. Why the heck did she even care? Richard wasn’t due till Friday night and with this weather, the hairdo would be limp by then.

When she appeared at the door, her Grandmother and Hassee were head to head in conversation at the bottom of the stairs.

Shaking with suppressed excitement, she forced her lips into a pleasant smile. “Good morning, Hassee.” 

“Miss Annie-Lise. Very good morning to you.”

The moment her name issued from his lips, her forced smile became brilliantly real. The sound of his voice made her body tremble to her core and her breathing quicken.
Easy there, girl. You’re a married woman.

But then, as her Grandmother said, what kind of marriage did she have?

Careful not to let her warring thoughts show in her face, she gave Hassee a little wave. “I promise I won’t be long. I’ll just run in and run out.”

He blessed her with that beautiful smile of his. “No rushing yourself. I just told Miz Lise that my saw decided to quit on me. I’ve got to have a couple of boards cut and wait on some paint. You take all the time you need.”

Grandmother nodded. “Pick up some fresh bread at the bakery and maybe a cake.”

~* * * *~

Used to Richard’s low convertible and her mini-Cooper, Annie accepted Hassee’s assistance climbing into his truck. Once settled, she sat frozen, clutching her purse in her lap. The inside of the truck smelled good, like an earthy men’s cologne and the fresh linen of the little tree hanging from the rear view mirror.

The radio played low, tuned to a talk radio station. From the snatches of conversation, she gleaned they were talking about hockey, a sport she held little to no interest in.

“Your grandmother is a very interesting woman.” Hassee switched off the radio with a flick of his hand. “She has definite ideas of what she wants.”

Annie laughed. “That’s for sure.” She searched for something else to say. “Do you do a lot of work for her?”

“A little here, a little there. Don’t tell her I said this, but sometimes she waits too long to call me in.” He grinned. “If she would call me as soon as something happens, it would be easier to fix.”

“She is not one to admit defeat, even if it’s a loose board.” Annie relaxed against the charcoal gray seats.

The visit to town was short and pleasant. Annie made quick work of her visit at the yarn store, picking up skeins of her favorite colors and trying out some Japanese wool.

Even so, Hassee was waiting for her in the truck when she was done.

The ride back was just as quiet as before. But it was a nice comforting quiet.

“You made it back in one piece.” Grandmother was sitting on the porch smoking when Annie got out of the car. “You did quite a bit of damage at that yarn store, Annie.” She laughed. “Are you sure they have stock left for everyone else?”

Annie laughed, feeling reckless and carefree. Hefting the bag in her right hand, she trotted up the steps to the porch and gave her Grandmother a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll make you something, I promise.”

Hassee pulled the boards off the back of the truck and mounted the porch stairs. “Miss Lise. I’ll have the attic done for you by the end of the day. Sorry for the delay.”

Grandmother waved her hand. “Don’t matter about the time, Hassee. I got plenty of it.”

Annie opened the door for him, and he went in and up the stairs.

“How’d you like your visit?”

“The town was very nice and quaint.” Annie dropped her bag of yarn and settled in the chair next to Grandmother. “A lot of nice shops.”

“I’m talking about your visit with Hassee.” Grandmother blew out a plume of smoke. “I’m sure you two had a nice chat.”

“Grandmother, please.” Annie pulled out a skein of yarn and rolled it in her hands. “Hassee drove me to town, and that’s it. Let’s not go in that direction.’

“He lost his wife and baby five years ago. Doctor’s mistake. He got quite a bit of money from the settlement. He does this work just to keep himself busy.” Grandmother gave her the eye. “Worth thinking about.”

Annie sighed. “I’m married.” Even as she said the words, she wished deep down there were some way she could get a start-over card, that there was a way to reverse the stupid mistakes she’d made.

Her grandmother let out a huff of disgust and shook her head. “Stubborn girl.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Village Realm…

T
he village was quiet at this time of night. Above her, the stars shone in the clear night sky. Mattie laid the now-quiet baby down at her mother’s side. Another group of escaped slaves had been brought in. These people had come from as far away as northern Georgia and were weary from the journey. She and the other women tended to them the best they could; still some were so weak and worn out that they died, but at least they died free.

Mattie waved a palmetto fan over the mother and her baby. Bundled sage burned close by to keep the mosquitoes away, and she had become adept at mixing the sticky ointment that kept the flies at bay. She touched the seed bead necklaces around her neck. Haiola had given her five of them over the past few months but had not gone any further. The other women took it for granted that she now belonged to him and treated her as such.

“Mattie.” His voice came from behind her, accompanied by a gentle touch on the shoulder. “Walk with me?”

“Yes,” she said. After checking on the sleeping infant one more time, she allowed him to help her down the several steps of the
chicapee
to the ground. As they walked through the settlement, women stirred pots of thick stew and baked bread for the evening meal.

Cheti Haiola’s—
Rising Star
—hand was warm in hers. “You must understand that it will be hard for us, as it is hard for every brown person in this nation. The white man truly believes we are less than he and cannot understand that everything does not belong to him.” He drew her closer and put an arm about her waist. “There is a story about a great chief and his Negro wife They were in a trading post, and white men took his wife away. They said she was someone’s property and had to be returned to its rightful owner.” His voice hardened with emotion. “They wish to destroy everything they cannot have. But…” He stopped walking and tipped her chin up. “…That Indian chief killed every white man in his path until he got his bride back. I will not let them take you.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “Will you share my pallet tonight?”

Warmed by his kiss, Mattie nodded in assent. “I will, yes.”

“Good. We will be blessed by the medicine man tomorrow as a public gesture, but the Great Spirit already blesses us. I knew that when I found you in the swamp.”

At the reminder of how she got there, Mattie stepped back from his embrace. She had to tell him. “I must tell you this, Haiola. I...” Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “I used to belong to the white man. I—he used me...” She lowered her voice to a whisper; her shame was so great. “…He lay with me as he lay with his wife.” She raised her sleeve to dry her tears. “You may not wish to have me as your
chahiwah
now.”

The relief of finally telling him mixed with the fear of him not wanting her. She pressed her lips together, still feeling the tingle of his kiss. No matter. She would continue to fight to free slaves. “I understand if you no longer want me, Haiola. I have been soiled.” She made a move as if to go away.

He seized her arm and held fast. “No, Mattie.” He pulled her to his chest and kissed her fiercely. When he released her, they were both breathing heavy. “It is of no matter to me. He is the soiled one, to take advantage of you. I will take you as my wife.” He stroked her braids. “And if I ever meet up with him, I will kill him.”

Tucked in the crook of his arm, Mattie nodded in agreement, but in her heart, she wanted to be the one to do it.

The next day, Haiola took her as his wife, and the shaman blessed them with these words:

May the Great Spirit guide your steps when there is no moonlight.