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"Then she will die…." The younger warrior hooped and hollered.
For two hours they shot off their arrows, trying their best to take the cabin. Clay and Charlie kept shooting as Willa reloaded their guns.
Several times they tried lighting fires for their arrows, but Clay would pull the arrows out so they couldn't damage the house. Although the house was not pretty, it was well built, and had withstood many different attacks.
Charlie's arm began to hurt, and Willa took over shooting for him. She wasn't a good shot, but the sound of the bullet whizzing by scared them off finally.
When it was over, Willa sank to the floor. "Maybe I should return to the village. I mean, they would allow me since I still nurse him."
"No," Clay folded his lips firmly. "Your father wanted you away from them, and his grandson too. You'll stay here. Besides, they belong on a reservation and you don't."
"They will not leave me alone," she cried. "He's the grandson of the chief."
"Then we'll just fight them off." Charlie concluded. "I could ride to the fort and tell the army; they might help send them back to the reservation. Would that upset you?"
"Not if they persist. If they come back again, then maybe it would be best, as I don't want you to lose your home because of them."
"Willa fighting out here, is part of life. If you don’t fight, then you have problems."
"Why?" She asked simply. "Why would you put yourselves in danger for someone you barely know?"
"We respect your father's attempt to free you. Your father wanted to take care of you, protect you. He didn't live long enough to do it. This place is all we have, but we fight to keep it ours. We always have and we always will, it doesn't matter who we have to fight. We've worked this place and we won't let anyone take it from us. We've had claim jumpers, Indians and a few outlaws try to take us, they didn't succeed. We built this place strong."
"Why do you fight for my freedom and my child's?" She asked staring straight at him.
"You may be part Indian, but you are also part white, so is your child. It's that part we fight for." Clay answered.
"But it is not your fight, it is mine."
Clay sighed heavily and came to stand in front of her. "When we accepted you into our home, you became part of it. Now the subject is closed. We protect what is ours."
For some reason Willa appreciated that statement. She had somehow become part of their family and the knowledge swelled within her.
And she was part of it! It gave her pride and made her want to fight with them. She vowed that day to someday repay them for including her and her son in their lives.
"Most white men or women would never accept me."
"You live in two worlds Willa. It isn't your fault that you do, but you do. I guess we never stopped to ask, what you wanted. But you have a home here, if you want it."
Willa looked down at herself and then at her child. "You have treated me well, and my child. And here I am accepted, but in town, in other places I would not be accepted by the white man. There have been too many years of killing and hate."
"It's true. No matter what, you can't change that. Isn't it the same at the Indian village? Are you accepted there either?" Clay asked. "Besides, after all the battles and wars, don't you think it's time to try to get along. We are all just people Willa. It takes time for people to accept what they don't understand."
She looked at him, with a sense of wonder, "Yes, you are right. It is time. And we are just people."
"Then let's stand up for peace now. Let's fight to get along. You must choose which world to live in, then live. Because you can't change everyone. The bigger towns are not as hateful toward Indians, but the small ones, they are, because the people in them breed their own hate."
She looked at her child and smiled, "I want so many things for him. I want him to learn to read and write like any white man and learn your ways. And still, I want him to be proud that he is part Indian too. Right now, I sit on the fence and look both ways. You are good white men, both of you, but there are many that are not. The same is true with the Indian. I cannot make the decision now. But I will, if you approve, stay here until I do. Then I will tell you. Only, I wish no harm to come to either of you."
Charlie came to her side. "We've defended this place many times, from white men and Indian. It's no different now."
"Then I will stay for a while as I know you need food and help here. I can help. I will make a fine garden for you and you will have fresh vegetables."
"Good." Charlie smiled at her.
Clay got quiet then all of a sudden, he shared his thoughts with them. "It's kind of like the men of the Alamo, when you think of it. They fought the Mexican army, but the men in the Alamo were from many different walks of life. Some were from the North, some even from different countries. But they were given a choice to stay and die for Texas or leave and live. They chose to stay. All of them save one. They became one people against an army that out numbered them. We stay here because we worked this land, we fought for it and we'll die for it if necessary. And if you decide to stay, you have to be willing too."
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