AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Charlie went to town to buy supplies and brought back seedlings for her to plant in the garden.
She was eager to make a garden. She worked hard to till the soil and make things grow. It kept her busy and she loved feeling the earth between her fingers once more. She had loved working in the garden with her mother. This brought those times to mind. Elan enjoyed this time too, as he loved the outdoors.
The soil was so fertile, and it would make a fine garden, they needed that, too. These men hadn't been eating well for a while and she intended to see they did.
But one day while Clay and Charlie were out in the pasture, Laura came by. It was quite unexpected.
She stood staring at Willa in the garden as she got no answer at the door. "Well," she huffed as she came around the corner of the house and saw her on her knees working there. "It looks as though you've made yourself to home." Laura's voice was rather hostile, but Willa ignored it as she turned to see the beautiful woman standing there staring at her. Laura wore a lovely green silk dress and hat with a feather in it. Laura stared at her with contempt in her eyes.
"The men are in the pasture, I expect, would you like me to get them for you?" Willa asked.
"I didn't come to see them. I came to see you. To warn you."
"I know it is hard to put the past to rest, to forgive, but I ask you to for both our sakes," Willa tried to be pleasant to her.
"Never! What I don't understand is why are you here? Elan must be his son, or you wouldn't be here at all."
"I am simply making a home for me and my son." She told her. "He is not Clay's son. Elan's father died on the reservation."
"Your son, you mean yours and Clay's?"
Willa's gaze narrowed on her now, it was impossible to be friends with this woman. But she knew she must try for everyone's sake. "You will think whatever pleases you. I cannot change that. But Elan is my son, not Clay's."
"Really, you expect me to believe that?"
"No, I do not expect anything from you. But it is your choice, and it is the truth." Willa went back to work, working the soil so it could receive the seeds she wanted to plant. "Elan's father is dead, my father killed him, now I must provide for my son."
"He'll never love you, you’re a breed." Laura challenged.
"Who?" Willa looked up at her.
"Clay, that's who. He may take you, but he'll never marry you." Laura's voice rose. "You're an Indian, he wouldn't dare."
"You are in love with him?" Willa stated calmly.
"Maybe once, but not now!" Laura protested. "Not after seeing what is going on here."
"That is too bad, he would make you a fine husband." Willa remarked. She turned to look at her now. "There is nothing between Clay and me. I am the cook and housekeeper, and that is all. My husband was killed by my father when we escaped from the reservation. That is the truth."
"Your father killed your husband? Well, that's a new one."
"It is the truth. His father was a full-blooded Indian. I was forced to marry him or leave the reservation. Since I had no place to go, I married him."
"How romantic."
"It was not romantic, nor was it a pleasant marriage. But Chatta was his father."
"How long are you staying here?" Laura asked, her voice contrite with anger.
"I do not know. I cannot tell the future." Willa remarked.
"Where is Clay?"
"In the pasture, I imagine." Willa told her.
"I have a right to feel as I do, my mother was killed by Indians." She told her, when Willa refused to give her the time of day. "They scalped her and left her for dead, she died three days later in my arms."
"I am sorry," Willa stood up now and turned to look at her. "Especially for you. How old were you?" Willa asked as though she could feel her pain.
