“You find it difficult to believe a savage can be Christian?” he replied.
A scarlet flush crept across her cheeks. “How could I have—”
“Assumptions grow firm as weeds among stones and are not so easily dislodged. We are not so different, Mary…you and I.”
Juliet understood the deeper tones of Two Eagles’ voice, where he’d existed in a world built of prejudices and arrogance. Mary had indeed outgrown her naïve childishness and preconception.
“Two Eagles is very educated,” added Waneek proudly, her silver armbands tinkling. “My older daughter is married to Sir Jensen. He took an interest in Two Eagles and supported his English-style education at Moor’s Indian Charity School and later at Kings College in New York City where he pursued an interest in law.”
Mary gawked at Two Eagles. “What else have you been keeping from me?”
“I have studied law,” said Edmund, marveling at his brother. “Strange how we both enjoy the same things. I want to learn everything of what you do and everything of the homeland of my ancestors.”
After dinner, they retired to the coolness of the porch and Waneek brought out two rifles. “Now for the entertainment. Joshua and Two Eagles will have a competition.”
A circular target of ten feathers was fastened to a tree.
Juliet stood on tiptoes to see over the villagers crowding to see the legendary Joshua. Two Eagles pointed at the bright red feather then aimed his gun and fired. The trunk exploded an inch above the target.
“I will knock the tip off the third feather.” Joshua sighted down the barrel, took aim. The tip exploded off the feather.
Two Eagles hit the feather beneath. The villagers murmured their approval, oohing and pointing as each man took turns, demonstrating their prowess. Two Eagles’ shots were close, but Joshua hit the tips off every feather. Breathless, Juliet bumped shoulders with Mary.
Joshua glanced to her and her pulse raced. “I’m going to hit the center of the target.” He aimed and fired. A warrior took the target off and wiggled his finger through the hole in the exact center. Everyone hooted. Joshua and Two Eagles rejoined Juliet and Mary on the porch.
Two Eagles motioned to Mary. “Come with me. I wish to show you something.”
The dong, dong sound of heavy blows repeated in quick succession boomed across the village. In front of one of the lodges, Two Eagles and Mary passed three Indian women pounding corn in hollowed out oak logs with heavy wooden pestles.
“Be careful of Big Beast,” called Waneek, smiling.
Two Eagles held up his hand to silence his mother. To this, several women in the village within hearing distance giggled, their knowing gazes following the couple who vanished in the woods.
From beneath her shawl, Waneek handed two packets to Joshua. “These arrived for you weeks ago.” She returned inside to talk with Edmund.
“What is Big Beast?” said Juliet.
“Big Beast is a mythical behemoth who gathers up two lovers and smothers them in his giant breasts,” he said without looking at her.
Opening one of the letters, Joshua moved off the porch and out of sight. A private moment with news from home? No, she knew better. With each passing day since their escape from the fort, he’d grown more withdrawn. More distant. During the trip she had seen many of his moods—of anger, of heaving edginess, of festering disturbances and, yes, of great tenderness vibrating on the verge of something profound. Yet during the last days, he’d become pensive, his mood swings gone, as if he’d won a battle within and found some great resolve. What she saw now she had at no time seen before. Indifference. Cold, uncaring indifference.
Her insides trembling, she reached for the porch rail. Gulped for air. In loving him, she had vowed to tolerate anything he chose to be, but among his choices she had not counted indifference. Oh, God. She closed her eyes and drew her arms into her stomach. He truly did not care.
Her heart shattered, she fled, and like the walking dead, she meandered aimlessly through the village. Contrary to her despair, the sky was an extraordinary blue, giving way to a beautiful day. A group of boys shouted and cheered playing a game with a leather ball and scooping it up with wooden nets. The Indian women smiled and greeted her as she passed and suddenly the world faded away. She was in England, could smell the apple blossoms, roses, and lavender. She could sip tea, eat lemon tarts and marzipan and listen to sweet violin music. And yet a sour taste yielded in her mouth. There was nothing for her in England.
Infected by Joshua’s enthusiasm for the Patriot cause made her rethink where she would go. Boston emerged a stronghold in Patriot hands and, at once, she entertained working there as a midwife.
She followed a path through the woods, her meager companions, gray mourning doves, their woeful cooing increasing her melancholy. Hearing voices, she peered through thick hemlock boughs into a bright green meadow. Two Eagles and Mary. She shouldn’t spy on her friend but her legs were like stiff boards nailed together with iron hinges watching Mary’s great delight in picking a bouquet of flowers.
“Are you happy, Mary?” asked Two Eagles.
“How can I not be? The sky is blue and there is the yellow of the buttercups and yarrow, the pink of the mallow, and brilliant black-eyed Susans are everywhere.”
“The Great Spirit is happy, too. He made the beautiful world with his hands and took pleasure in its beauty,” said Two Eagles, and then he stared at Mary with well-intended meaning.
The tall warrior plucked a cornflower from her bouquet and held it up to the side of her head. “The blue is like your eyes.”
“Two Eagles, I would love to have children to run through this field of color. Your children,” Mary said gazing up to him. Two Eagles returned the same loving look with all the adoration of the world caught on his face.
