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"I'm glad of that." Clay smiled. "I know it's a strange question to ask, but it makes me feel better that I know."
"You believe also?" She asked, watching his face.
"I do. But there are people like Laura that won't believe Elan is not my son no matter what I say or do. I want you to know that. I could tell each and every one that he isn't, but it would do no good. But we know the truth and that is important. I'll admit, at first, I had reservations about you staying here as our cook and housekeeper, but I see the practical side to it too. My father was at the point he'd have hired someone anyway. And our house is not beautiful, and not many women would want to stay out here and cook and clean for us. So, I agree, you're staying here is probably a good idea, for if you leave, the Indians might follow to take your baby from you. If you stay, the only problem will be people like Laura."
"There will always be people like her." Willa murmured. "My father told my mother that years ago and that I was better off with the Indians than trying to live in the white world."
"I don't know about that. It would be a struggle no matter which way you go. It is something you will have to endure most of your life, I'm afraid. But it will only make you stronger to do so. My grandfather always said troubles build character in a person. So, you might as well buck up."
"Buck up, what does that mean?"
"Get tough. Let what people say, slide off your back. Pay no attention to them, as they are illiterate and don't understand. You may not read or write, but you seem to understand life. They also don't believe much in what the good book says. They read the bible, they go to church, but they don't look out there and see that it was all God's hand, not ours that created this beautiful land. And if they do believe in it, they don't abide by it. He made us all, and in the beginning, there was only one race, and we are part of that race. Now granted war is one thing, and war breeds hate. The North and the South, the Indians and whites, the Blacks. Because of the wars, it's hard to love everyone. But learning to forgive is the first step to any of us."
"The bible?" she queried.
"Yes." He smiled.
"They have never seen me, yet they will think he is yours. I do not understand your people so much. My father was a brave man, and a good man, so my mother told me, but he was a drifter that could not be still. My Indian husband was a warrior, he did not love me, nor I him, yet we had a child together. I do not mourn him, as I should. It would seem there is much problems in the world. I want to be a good Christian, but it is hard to understand some things."
"That's the way life is. You cannot start running from what you are Willa. My father and I see you as a woman, not Indian, not white, but a woman. We see that together we can be better, make a home better. It is a good thing. And believe me, I've thought about the consequences of you staying, for my father's sake though, it will be good. You see he's been lonesome, maybe we both have, we didn't realize what we were missing. And like I said, not many would live in a house like this."
"Your house is built strong, and it is… comfortable. But I fear I will only bring problems for you and your father."
"You've met my father; he is a very stubborn and determined man. But I see something that you and your baby bring to this house that has been lacking for a long time. I never even realized it. You see, you don't miss something you've never had. He spoke of it only yesterday. You never think about your parent being a lonely person. You live together, work together and yet you don't see the loneliness of it all. My mother died some years back, but I don't think he ever quit missing her, he loved her so." He bowed his head, thinking. "But you have brought something back into his life."
"I do not understand?"
"Laughter, happiness." He smiled at her. "People can't really live without those things. You bring that to this house. And I welcome it."
Charlie came back inside. "Well, that's probably the last we'll see of her."
"I'm not complaining." Clay looked at his father.
Charlie eyed him for a moment. "I was wrong about her, son. She's not the person I thought she was." Charlie frowned. "Could be she's just jealous, but none the less, she'll cause a lot of talk with that mouth of hers."
"Hope you aren't too disappointed. Laura was never meant for me, that much I'm sure of dad. Well, let's bury Willa's father now." Clay told him.
"Alright," Charlie responded and they went outside to dig the grave.
When they were ready, they called Willa out. Willa had her baby in her arms and looked sadly at the fresh pile of dirt. She saw the well-kept grave of Clay's mother, the flowers on her grave and it made her heart thud hard that they would allow her father to be buried by her. What an honor. The small gravesite was fenced in and tended well. "I did not know him well, but I will mourn him just as I did my mother."
Charlie nodded.
Charlie quoted from the bible. Willa stared at Charlie and as he spoke tears rolled down her cheeks unchecked. She held her baby tightly to her. It was as if he was saying there was a purpose for her being here. It comforted her, even though she did not understand all of it.
Afterwards they went inside, and Willa fixed a pot of coffee. Strangely she became familiar with where things were, easy enough, Clay noted, but it was a small kitchen. "Those were beautiful words." She murmured.
"Yes ma'am, they were." Charlie sighed.
"He would have liked them." Willa smiled at him as she brought the coffee pot to the table, put cups out for them all and poured the coffee.
"I'm glad. I figured he was a Christian man when he went after you, after your mother died. It was the right thing to do." Charlie shook his head when she offered sugar.
"He had a habit of reading from the bible every night." She sat down at the table now with them as Elan was still asleep. "He read aloud, so I could hear the words. He said it was God Almighty who kept him from harm all his life. I remember his voice so well. It is one of the things I remember about him from my childhood." She smiled sadly. "The words they comforted me. I remember that even as a small child."
"Did you know him very well Willa?" Clay asked.
"No, not as well as I would have liked to. You see he was not around much as I grew up. My mother and I were accepted back into the tribe as he was gone so much. He didn't want her being alone, so he took her back to her tribe. He was not a welcome visitor there, but the old chief allowed it, for he knew him. He agreed that we were better off with them."
