Twin Willows: A Novel (24 page)

B
RYAN’S
S
TATION

Willow begrudged each and every day that she awoke to find herself still at Bryan’s Station, away from White Eagle and the world that she’d always known. Yet Bear’s Daughter had taught her to make the best of any situation, and once she began to work alongside the
Shemanese
women, the long hours seemed to pass more quickly.
Idleness becomes no woman
, Bear’s Daughter had often told her.

As the days passed, Willow found some things to like about the
Shemanese
way of living. But even though in many ways she was far more comfortable than she’d ever been, Willow took no pleasure in it. She longed for White Eagle, and realized that her best chance of getting back home to him rested with her father, Ee-an M’night. Surely, after he returned with this Anna, he would let her go.

In the meantime, she worked around the Station and spent a part of every day with Stuart Martin, teaching him Shawnee words, while he helped her learn English.

One such afternoon, Stuart and Willow were in the McKnight cabin practicing each other’s language while Rebecca sewed a baby garment. Betsy Craig came to the open door and called to them with excitement in her voice: “Miz McKnight, a man just rode into the Station looking for the colonel. He told Pa he’s seen Anna.”

Directing Willow to stay where she was, Stuart and Rebecca followed Betsy to the center of the Station, where a seedy-looking white man stood engaged in angry conversation with her father.

“What do ye mean, Colonel McKnight ain’t ’ere?”

James Craig seemed relieved when Rebecca and Stuart joined them. “As I just tole you, the colonel rode out some weeks past in search of his daughter. This is his wife, Rebecca, and Stuart Martin, a friend.”

“Edward Tucker,” the man said, but he made no move to accept Stuart’s extended hand. He stared hard at Rebecca. “I can see ye ain’t her mother, but mebbe ye know the gal?”

Rebecca nodded curtly, returning him more courtesy than he had given. “Yes, of course. Her name is Anna Willow, and she was kidnapped by a Shawnee warrior when they besieged this Station. If you have any information at all about her, we’d like to know it.”

Edward Tucker’s mouth twisted sardonically. “I reckon ye would, ma’am. But I ain’t sayin’ another word ’less’n ye make it worth my while.”

Stuart saw James Craig finger the hilt of his knife, and fearing that the men might come to blows before Tucker could tell them what he knew, he gestured for the man to come with him and Rebecca.

“We can discuss this at the colonel’s cabin, Mr. Tucker. This way.”

On the way to the cabin, Rebecca told the man she would provide some refreshment for him. “If you’ve come all the way from across the river, you must be pretty tired by now.”

Edward Tucker scowled. “Ah, ye’ll not trick me into tellin’ ye nothin’ fer free, Miz McKnight.”

His first impression of dislike for the man now confirmed, Stuart suppressed what would have been an imprudent answer. “I’m sure Mrs. McKnight only meant to be hospitable,” he said instead.

When they arrived at the cabin, Rebecca entered first, followed by Stuart and their visitor. Willow still sat where they had left her.

Rebecca and Stuart watched Edward Tucker’s face when he saw her. His eyes widened, his mouth dropped open, and it took him a long moment to find his voice. It was the way most people who had seen Anna reacted when they first saw Willow, but Edward Tucker’s astonishment exceeded most.

“Wha—who is she?” Tucker finally managed to say.

“She is called Willow,” Rebecca replied.

Edward Tucker continued to stare at Willow, then he shook his head and turned to Rebecca. “What kind o’ game do ye play ’ere?”

“It’s no game, sir. This girl is a twin to the one you claim to have seen.”

Edward Tucker frowned. “No claim about it, I seen th’ girl not a week past—” Aware that he’d said more than he intended, Tucker stopped abruptly.

Stuart’s heart leaped in his chest. “Where is Anna? Is she well?” he pressed the man.

“She was well enough then,” Edward Tucker said sullenly. “She said ’er father’d pay me well for tellin’ ’im ’er whereabouts, else I’d not a-come ’ere. I’ll say no more ’less’n I see some hard money.”

All except Willow had been standing, and now Rebecca indicated that Stuart and Edward Tucker should take seats. “I’ll brew us some tea,” she said calmly. “Then we will talk.”

Willow couldn’t put a name to this
Shemanese
who had seemed so surprised at the sight of her, but she thought she might have seen him around Waccachalla a few years past. Then he’d been one of the many soldiers who wore bright red coats with the shiny brass buttons that were so highly prized in trade. If this was the same man, he probably also spoke her language.

While Rebecca busied herself dipping hot water from the cooking pot, Willow rested her forearms on the table and leaned forward. Speaking in Shawnee, she addressed the man directly.

“Who are you? Where do you come from?”

Had she slapped him, Edward Tucker could hardly have looked more startled. In Shawnee he told Willow his name, and added that he was a trader who did business with Chief Black Snake.

Willow’s reaction was immediate and intense. “The chief is my kinsman. You have seen him?”

Tucker nodded. “Yes. I come here to tell Colonel McKnight of this thing.”

“What are you saying?” Stuart could make out a few words and guess at the rest, but he didn’t want to let Edward Tucker know he understood any of it.

“The girl asked who I was. I reckon she jes’ wants t’ talk ’er lingo agin.”

On the table Rebecca set a china teapot—the only thing of value she still owned—and took four pewter mugs from a plank shelf on the nearby wall.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to drink this tea plain, Mr. Tucker. We’ve not seen any sugar at the Station in many weeks.”

“’Twill do,” he said shortly. “Now, about my money—”

“As far as I can tell, you’ve done nothing to warrant any payment,” Stuart put in. “What proof do we have that you even know where Anna is?”

Edward Tucker blew on his tea and took a noisy sip. He pointed to Willow. “Would I a-thought aught about this un ’ad I not seen t’other? I know where yer Anna is, an’ without my ’elp, there she stays.”

“Mr. Tucker, I believe you, but the fact is that my husband has no gold,” Rebecca told him. “However, if you fancy any of our goods—”

“No!” He slapped the palm of his hand on the table for emphasis. “The girl tol’ me that she’d some gold coins ’id in ’er petticoat. She said t’ tell ye I was t’ have ’em, above and beyond aught ’er father’d give me.”

Rebecca and Stuart exchanged surprised glances. “I know nothin’ about any money,” Rebecca said. “Willow’s been wearin’ Anna’s clothes. I’d know if there’d been any money in them.”

Edward Tucker shook his head. “Mebbe not. I’ll wager the petticoat’s in a saddlebag in the lean-to, like this Anna tol’ me.”

Rebecca started toward the lean-to, motioning Stuart and Tucker to stay behind. Willow, who wasn’t sure what was happening but didn’t want to miss anything, followed Rebecca. She watched, mystified, as Rebecca opened Anna’s saddlebag and lifted out a long petticoat with an attached bodice.

“There’s somethin’ in here, all right.” Rebecca reached into her apron pocket for her sewing scissors and quickly cut several large stitches, releasing a jingle of coins into her hand.

Willow gasped in awe, and Rebecca quickly tucked the gold into her pocket.

“Well?” Edward Tucker asked when they returned. “The girl was right about the money, warn’t she?”

“If so, you’ve done nothing to earn it,” Rebecca said.

The man’s face flushed angrily. “I’ll tell ye nothin’ more ’til ye pay me what’s my due.”

“You agreed to tell Ian McKnight where to find his daughter. So far, you’ve not done it.”

Tucker’s cheeks reddened and he spoke sullenly. “I’d a-tol’ Colonel McKnight if’n ’e’d a-been ’ere. That ain’t my fault. As fer where the girl is—”

He broke off and looked at Willow, then back at Stuart. “She can take ye there if’n yer fool enough t’ risk th’ goin’.”

Stuart had never been a violent man, but the knowledge that Edward Tucker knew where Anna was, yet would not tell them, tested his patience almost past the breaking point. He moved forward and gathered a fistful of the man’s shirt. “That’s enough riddle-speaking. Where is Anna?”

Edward Tucker glared balefully at Stuart. “In a Shawnee village called Waccachalla.”

Stuart tightened his hold on Tucker’s shirt. “Where is this place?”

“Off the Scioto Trail, near a Shawnee town named Chillicothe.”

Stuart loosened his grip and Tucker backed away, still eyeing Stuart warily. “I tole ye, now give me my money.” Although his voice was a bit less strident, it was obvious that Tucker’s determination to have Anna’s coins had not diminished.

Rebecca spoke before Stuart had the opportunity. “Let’s all go have our tea. I believe we can reach a peaceful agreement in this matter.”

C
HILLICOTHE

White Eagle could not say how long he stayed in the lodge of the medicine woman at Chillicothe; he only knew it was far longer than he wanted. The bitter draughts she forced down his throat made him sleep for hours, even days, at a time, while she put one poultice after another on his wounded thigh. When her medicine took hold and the wound no longer threatened his life, White Eagle tried to stand—but found that he could not. The long period of inactivity, combined with the effects of the powerful brews the old woman gave him, had made White Eagle weak in a way he had never before known.

“You must give me a restorative,” White Eagle told the medicine woman when he found he could not stand without aid. “Your medicine has taken away the strength I must have.”

The old woman shook her head. “Ayee, you young warriors have no patience. Your sickness took away your strength. Only time brings it back.”

“I have no time!” White Eagle exclaimed impatiently. “I must go to Waccachalla. Black Snake must know what happened to his kin.”

The medicine woman raised her eyebrows. “This Willow is the chief’s kin?”

White Eagle nodded. “The
Shemanese
who shot me took her away.”

“So you have spoken many times these days past. I thought it was fever talk.”

“No. I must get to Waccachalla right away. Have you no remedy to give me strength?”

“There is something, but it must be taken for three days. Each day you can do more.”

“Then give it to me,
nik-yah
.”

“Ayee, you young men are all alike. What will happen will happen, with you or without you. But this last thing I will do, if you promise to stay here and rest while you take it.”

White Eagle nodded. His slight exertion had left him almost too weary to speak, but his determination to go on to Waccachalla remained strong.
Three days and I will go there
, he promised himself.
Chief Black Snake will know what to do about finding Willow
.

Thus resigned, White Eagle allowed the medicine woman to lead him back to his bed.

Days later, when White Eagle finally rode out of Chillicothe, he was accompanied by Red Pole, younger brother of Yellow Hawk, a warrior White Eagle had long known. The medicine woman had insisted that her younger son go along in case White Eagle suffered a spell of weakness and needed help, and reluctantly White Eagle had agreed.

For whatever reason—his youth and general good health, his own strength of will, or the vile-tasting brew that he’d taken for the past three days—White Eagle felt better than at any time since his encounter with the
Shemanese
. His thigh was still tender, and he favored the injured leg, but the medicine woman assured him that with time, his slight limp would go away. At any rate, White Eagle could now mount and ride his horse unaided.

Partly because of the nature of their errand, and in part to convince Black Snake that he dealt with able warriors, White Eagle and Red Pole had outfitted themselves in war paint and scarlet headbands, and White Eagle tied a feather in his hair. Thus attired, the men created something of a stir when they entered Waccachalla. They dismounted, and asked to speak to the chief of the village.

Black Snake had been warned by the lookout that two strange warriors approached, and he awaited them at the door of the council lodge.

“Peace, Chief Black Snake,” White Eagle and Red Pole said together.

“Peace to you, warriors. Who are you, and on what errand come you to this place?”

White Eagle introduced himself and Red Pole. “Tall Oak, chief in Shawnee Town, sends his greetings. I bring you his gift.” He paused for a moment, then added, “I also have news of your kinswomen, Bear’s Daughter and Willow.”

The chief’s expression didn’t change, but he moved aside and motioned for the visitors to enter. By custom, Black Snake brought out a tobacco-filled pipe and lighted it. Only when it had passed to each in turn three times did Black Snake nod to his guest to speak.

With great ceremony, White Eagle spread out before Black Snake the buffalo robe he had been carrying. “Tall Oak wishes to make treaty with the chief of Waccachalla. Our warriors fight beside yours. Your warriors fight beside ours.”

Black Snake signaled for White Eagle to hand him the robe, which he immediately put around his shoulders. “It is good,” he said. “Tell Tall Oak we will talk more of this thing.” Then the chief laid the robe aside and leaned forward slightly. “Now I would hear of my kinswomen.”

Forcing himself to speak slowly, White Eagle told the events in order, omitting nothing, for he knew he must convince Black Snake that he spoke the truth. He related how he had first met Bear’s Daughter and Willow on the trail and returned to help them, and how the old woman had sickened and died before they could reach Shawnee Town.

“I promised Bear’s Daughter that I would marry Willow, but even without her urging, I would gladly have done so.”

White Eagle paused for a moment, and Black Snake frowned. “You say that you buried my kinswoman, and for that I thank you. But what of Willow?”

“We were riding to tell you the news of Bear’s Daughter so she could be properly mourned. Then we met two
Shemanese
. I told Willow to hide in the woods, and I fought them and took a bullet here, in my thigh. The men took Willow. I followed their tracks to the O-hio-se-pe. By then I was too weak to go on. Red Pole found me on the Scioto Trail. His mother took me in and healed my wound. Only now am I able to come to tell you these things.”

Black Snake listened attentively, not speaking until White Eagle finished his account. “We have known nothing of my kinswomen for some time. We thought that both Bear’s Daughter and the girl were dead.” The chief asked a few questions about times and places, then stood and motioned for White Eagle to follow him. “Red Pole stays in the council lodge. My daughter Blossom will bring him food.”

White Eagle remained silent as he and Black Snake walked through the village, receiving the curious stares of many onlookers. When he reached a large
wegiwa
, which White Eagle guessed was the chief’s, Black Snake motioned for White Eagle to wait while he went inside.

The chief emerged a moment later with a young girl he introduced to White Eagle as his daughter, Blossom. He directed her to take food to the council lodge, then turned back to White Eagle. “Come this way.”

Becoming more mystified by the moment, White Eagle followed Black Snake to the banks of a stony creek, trying hard not to limp. Several of the village women had waded into the water and appeared to be washing their clothing. Most stood with their backs to Black Snake and White Eagle, but when the chief called out “An-na,” one girl turned to face them.

White Eagle took a step forward almost involuntarily, so certain was he at first that his Willow had somehow made her escape from the
Shemanese
and returned to her village. Yet she looked at him with no sign of recognition, and White Eagle realized that he was mistaken. This An-na, as the chief called her, wore the same kind of doeskin shift as the other Shawnee women, and her chestnut hair had been dressed in a style similar to Willow’s. But she was slightly taller, and the blank stare with which she regarded White Eagle confirmed that she didn’t know him.

“Is this An-na like the girl Willow?” Black Snake asked, but White Eagle’s stunned expression had already given him his answer.

White Eagle nodded, taken aback by the great resemblance between the two girls. “Willow did not say she had a sister,” he finally managed.

“She could not say what she did not know. I adopted An-na as my daughter. One of our raiding warriors thought she was Willow and brought her back from a
Shemanese
settlement. She does not speak our tongue.”

As Black Snake spoke, White Eagle felt a growing excitement. He was almost certain that she could help him find Willow.

“I have some English,” White Eagle said.

“Then speak with her.”

The girl An-na looked warily from Black Snake to White Eagle as if she thought she had reason to fear the young warrior. The other women had ceased their labors to watch them with great interest.

White Eagle gestured toward the women. “I would speak to this An-na in your lodge.”

Black Snake nodded and gestured for Anna to come.

The girl inclined her head briefly to show that she understood. She waded from the water and followed the men, walking several paces behind them. When they reached the chief’s
wegiwa
, Standing Crane was sitting cross-legged by the fire. Black Snake and White Eagle joined her, placing themselves around the fire, and the chief gestured to Anna to sit down also. She did not look at White Eagle until he spoke to her in English.

“An-na, my name White Eagle.”

Startled, she raised her head to stare at him. From her first glimpse of him, Anna had thought the young warrior was much better-looking than those she had seen in Waccachalla. She had presumed from his limp that he had been wounded in some recent skirmish, perhaps even in the raid that had taken her from her Kentucky. She more than half feared that the chief had brought this man to her as a prospective husband. That she might be able to talk to him was a welcome surprise. “You speak English?” she asked.

“Yes. I come to tell Chief Black Snake of Willow. You look like Willow—my wife.”

Anna felt a sudden rush of relief that he was already married.

“I know. The warrior who brought me here thought I was Willow. If you will tell the chief where she is, perhaps he will let me go.”

When White Eagle frowned, Anna realized that she had probably spoken too rapidly for him to understand. She tried again. Pointing to herself, Anna leaned closer to White Eagle. “I am An-na. My mother was Silverwillow, a Delaware. My father is Ian McKnight. He lives at Bryan’s Station in Kan-tuck-e. Black Snake’s warrior took me from there. Do you understand these things?”

White Eagle frowned as if trying to remember something. “Fath-er Ee-an M’Night?”

Anna nodded. “Yes. Trader Ee-an M’night. Where is your Willow now?”

“
Shemanese
take her across O-hio-se-pe, to Kan-tuck-e,” he replied. “I come Waccachalla, tell Black Snake.”

As he spoke, Anna had a sudden thought. “What did those
Shemanese
look like?”

“One man short, hair like this.” White Eagle pointed to his own head. “One old, tall.” He touched his chin and cheeks. “Much hair here, red, white.”

Anna clasped her hands in excitement. “My father!” Finally the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to come together. She spoke earnestly, adding gestures to her words to make her meaning clear. “My father is Ian McKnight. He thought Willow was me. That is why he took her to Kentucky.”

White Eagle looked thoughtful as he considered her words.

“I don’t know how it happened,” Anna admitted. “My father lives at Bryan’s Station in Kentucky. That is where he would take Willow.”

White Eagle’s voice was calm, but his eyes gleamed with excitement. “I go to that place. I get Willow.”

“Take me with you,” Anna pleaded.

Sensing that their conversation might be taking a turn he didn’t like, Black Snake asked White Eagle what the girl said. Briefly White Eagle summarized Anna’s words.

“An-na thinks her father took Willow to Kan-tuck-e. She wants to go with me to help find her,” he concluded.

Black Snake scowled his displeasure. “An-na not
Shemanese
. An-na now Shawnee, in place of Willow. Tell her this thing.”

White Eagle translated Black Snake’s words, then added a few of his own. “When he sees Willow, maybe Black Snake let you go.”

“As soon as my father knows where I am, he will come after me,” Anna said. “He could already be on the way. I want no fighting about this.”

“I tell your father I see you, if he not shoot first.”

“Take a white cloth with you. When you get to the Station, wave it on a stick as a flag of truce. Ask to see Ian McKnight. Tell him that Anna sent you. If he has your Willow and if she wants to go with you, he will let you leave in peace.”

White Eagle thought for a moment. “This Ee-an M’night not know me. He say I try a Shawnee trick.”

Given her father’s normal caution, Anna thought, White Eagle had a good point. Instinctively she reached for her necklace. Then she realized that it could be the key to her freedom. Quickly she withdrew the necklace from beneath her shift and unclasped the chain.

“My father—Ian McKnight—gave me this. He will know it is from me.”

White Eagle’s eyes widened. He recognized that it was fine gold, worth much gunpowder and rifles and many warm blankets to
Shemanese
traders. It lay in Anna’s outstretched palm for a long moment before White Eagle finally took it.

“What is this that you do?” Black Snake demanded when White Eagle took Anna’s necklace.

“I take this to Kan-tuck-e to show her father. If he has Willow, I bring her here.”

Black Snake looked away from White Eagle and stared hard at Anna. “An-na stays here,” he said in Shawnee.

Anna inclined her head to show that she understood. “
Oui-sah
, ” she said.

Now all Anna could do was pray that White Eagle would succeed in the quest for his mysterious Willow, and that this Willow’s return would assure her own freedom.

White Eagle and Red Pole accepted Black Snake’s offer of lodging for the night, but White Eagle slept fitfully. He did not understand all she had said about this Ee-an M’night, but he believed what this An-na said.

He arose before dawn to bathe in the creek and make preparations for his journey. With bear oil, he removed the last traces of his war paint, then larded his moccasins to repel snakes, which feared the scent of wild boars. Against the chill of the fall morning, White Eagle added a rawhide vest to his breechclout and fringed leggings. He tied a scarlet band around his forehead to keep his hair out of his face, but he wore no adornment in his hair.

When White Eagle had readied himself, he went back to the council lodge, where Black Snake gave him a pouch filled with pemmican and venison jerky.