Land of the Free (26 page)

Once again, Marina shook her
head. “I cannot trust myself to do so.”

“Can you trust yourself not
to go with him if he asks?”

“I will tell him that I am
pregnant. Once he knows that, he will go away.”

“What if he does
not?”

“Then I cannot
say.”

Rachael paced the floor
three times then stopped. “Very well. You must see him alone. But
as you speak to him, think of your children. When I was very young
I had a similar experience, perhaps not so powerful as yours, but
the thought of losing my children and my family’s good graces
prevailed.”

Marina checked her
reflection in the mirror again, pushed back a stray lock of hair
and then hurried from the room.

October 30, 1805

Vincennes, Indiana
Territory

“Well,” Governor Harrison
said, “I did tell you that the Shawnee blood brother ceremony was
serious business.”

“It was foolish of me and it
accomplished nothing. I’ve regretted it ever since. But, there’s
nothing I can do about it now.”

Harrison looked thoughtful.
“When is your baby due?”

“Christmas.”

“When the tribe’s on the
march, Shawnee women squat by the side of the road, have their
babies and then run to catch up. Black Hoof just isn’t going to
understand why your wife can’t come.”

Yank waved his hand
dismissively. “He understands the difference between white women
and Indian women.”

“But to him, your wife is an
Indian.”

Yank closed his eyes and
groaned. “You’re right, of course. I hadn’t considered
that.”

“Go home, Yank.”

“I cannot until I have
completed my mission, Governor.”

“If you’ve offended Black
Hoof you don’t have any allies among the Shawnee which means you’ve
got no hope of success.”

Yank shook his head. “If I
can’t go among my Shawnee friends I’ll go among my Shawnee
enemies.”

“Tecumseh will eat your
liver.”

“Perhaps.”

“Listen to me, Yank.”
Harrison leaned forward in his chair. “Tecumseh is not some
primitive savage that you can sweet-talk and bribe with wampum. He
thinks like a Philadelphia lawyer and he has a grudge against your
Uncle Thomas for his participation in George Rogers Clark’s
destruction of Chillicothe.”

Yank shrugged. “What choice
do I have?”

“I don’t know, but visiting
Tecumseh isn’t one of them.”

“What about Joseph
Brant?”

“Tenskwatawa’s confederacy
includes Joseph Brant.”

Yank shook his head in
disappointment. “Where does William Wells stand in all
this?”

“I can’t say for
certain.”

“He’s still the Indian
Agent, is he not?”

Harrison nodded. “But his
allegiance is very questionable.”

“Why? What’s
happened?”

“When Jefferson was elected,
Wells requested that he establish a trading post at Fort Wayne.
Jefferson established the post but then he appointed John Johnston
as the manager. Wells and Johnson mix like oil and water. I tried
to smooth it over by appointing Wells as Justice of the Peace and
commissioning him to establish the mail route between Fort Wayne
and Fort Dearborn. But when I was negotiating the Treaty of
Vincennes, Wells sided with Little Turtle, in opposition to the
treaty.”

“Little Turtle’s his
father-in-law.”

“I know that,” Harrison said
in a sour tone, “but Wells also opposed the Quaker Agriculture
missions to the Miami. I’ll never completely trust him
again.”

“Well.” Yank rubbed his eyes
tiredly. “My options are so narrow that, at this point, I have no
choice but to trust Wells.”

November 2, 1805

Manhattan Island, New
York

Marina shook her head. “I
don’t think I should go, Grandmother.”

“Why on earth not?” Rachael
asked.

“I’m much too
fat.”

“Nonsense. In the right
dress it will go unnoticed.”

“I’d rather not
attend.”

“Dolley Madison will be
there.”

“Please give her my
best.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Grandmother, I’m quite
sure.”

“Very well, but once your
confinement starts, you’ll wish you’d taken every opportunity to
enjoy life.”

“Confinement won’t be
necessary, in my case.”

“Why, pray tell?”

“I traveled from Albuquerque
to Van Buskirk Point by way of Florida, Cuba and Washington during
the last weeks of my pregnancy with Jack and I suffered no ill
effects.”

“We’ll see how you feel in
another few weeks.”

Marina nodded.

“What it I were to tell you
that Lieutenant Percy will not be there?”

“His ship is still in the
harbor.”

“I know. I also happen to
know that he is not on the guest list.”

“You happen to know or you
arranged it?”

“Why does that
matter?”

“It matters because everyone
in New York is talking about us.”

“About you and Lieutenant
Percy?”

“Yes.”

“What can they possibly have
to talk about? You’ve seen him twice. Once at the Astor’s and then
once here.” She narrowed her eyes. “Unless there’s something you
haven’t told me.”

Marina glared at
her.

“That was insulting,”
Rachael said. “Forgive me.”

Marina waved her hand in
annoyance. “Lieutenant Percy has apparently announced to some of
his fellow officers that he intends to steal me away from John and
marry me.”

“Where on Earth did you hear
that?”

“One of the maids told
me.”

“Which one? I will dismiss
her immediately.”

“For telling the
truth?”

“For carrying
tales.”

“I will not tell you her
name.”

Rachael chewed her lip. “If
what she said is true, Yank will hear of it.”

“I think that is exactly
what Lieutenant Percy has in mind.”

“What?”

“He has apparently said that
I will be his when John is forced to challenge him to a
duel.”

“The boy is a fool. Dueling
is no longer legal in New York or New Jersey. Yank could not
possibly agree, it would be in terribly bad form.”

Marina laughed out loud then
covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh. I do most sincerely
apologize.”

“What’s so damned
funny?”

Marina tried to keep a
straight face but failed. “Your reaction to the idea of a duel.”
She giggled. “No thought of your grandson being killed, only of the
legality and social form of it.” She laughed again. “I don’t think
I will ever understand you.”

“Have a pleasant evening,
Marina.” Rachael stalked out and slammed the door.

Marina looked at the closed
door for several seconds then walked to her bed and sat down. Her
mind was in a terrible turmoil. The story she had told Rachael was
a lie. It was not a maid but Percy himself who had told her of the
plan last night when he had once again climbed the
trellis.

She picked up the open
Bible and read the passage from Proverbs again.
“
For the commandment is a lamp and the
teaching a light, and the reproofs of discipline are the way of
life, to preserve you from the evil woman, from the smooth tongue
of the adventuress
.”

November 3, 1805

Indiana Territory

Williams Wells was the
youngest son of Captain Samuel Wells who served in the Virginia
militia during the American Revolutionary War. After the war, when
William was nine, the family moved to Kentucky where William’s
mother soon died and his father was killed in an Indian raid. Three
years later, he was taken captive by Miami Indians of Kenapakomoko
and was adopted by a chief named Gaviahate. His red hair earned him
the name Apekonit, meaning
Carrot
Top
in English.

In 1793, Wells was appointed
captain in the Legion of the United States, acting as a scout and
interpreter for General “Mad” Anthony Wayne where he had met Major
Yank Van Buskirk.

“Governor Harrison’s
accusation is slanderous,” Wells said to Yank. “I never opposed the
Quaker Agriculture missions. In fact I wrote the letters inviting
them on behalf of my father-in-law.”

“What harm has it done?”
Yank asked.

“Beyond damaging my
reputation and making me suspect?”

Yank decided that it would
be best to change the subject. “How are Sweet Breeze and your
children?”

Wells went pale.

“What?”

“Governor Harrison didn’t
tell you that she who was my wife died this summer?”

“No.” Yank looked shocked.
“No, no. He didn’t tell me. I would never have mentioned your
wife’s name. Forgive me, please.”

“He did it purposely knowing
that you would ask.” Wells shook his head. “He is not a man to be
trusted, Yank. He manipulates and misleads to achieve his
goals.”

“He is a politician,
William. Manipulating and misleading is what politicians do for a
living.”

Wells waved his hand in
disgust. “He’s mean-spirited and cruel.”

“Have you had much contact
with the Shawnee?” Yank asked, changing the subject
abruptly.

“I’ve had enough to know
that Black Hoof is damned irritated at you.”

“Any advice?”

“Sure thing. Bring your wife
to meet him and marry her again in the tribe.”

“She’s pregnant and we have
a very small child.”

“That’s a white man’s
excuse. It’ll hold no water with any Indians.”

“Help me find the tribes
that the British are helping and none of this will be
necessary.”

“There may not be any such
tribes, but you made a commitment to the Shawnee that you should
honor. Go home for Christmas and then after the birth of your child
come back.”

“I can’t travel with a
newborn, regardless of my responsibilities to Black
Hoof.”

“Leave the children with
your family.”

“My wife will never agree to
that.”

Wells shook his head. “I can
have no respect for a man who cannot manage his wife.”

December 14,
1805

Manhattan, New
York

The sun was not quite up
when Rachael Van Buskirk bustled into the kitchen.

“Good morning,
Grandmother.”

Rachael gasped, stopped
short, put her hand to her throat and then squinted at the table.
“Dear Lord. You almost frightened me to death, Yank. What are you
doing sitting here in the dark? No. The proper question is what are
you doing here at all? Are you hurt? Is something
wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.” He stood
up and walked around the table to kiss her on the cheek. “I made a
pot of coffee. Would you like some?”

“Army coffee?” She made a
disgusted face and shuddered. “I think not. You should have wakened
Betty to make you a proper breakfast.” She walked toward the bell
pull.

“I wanted to be alone,” Yank
said.

Rachael hesitated with her
hand on the pull. “You know? I haven’t had any army coffee in a
very long time. Perhaps I would like a cup at that.”

“Let me get it for
you.”

“No. I’d prefer to do it
myself. It takes a lot of milk and sugar to make army coffee
palatable.” She busied herself with the coffee then sat down across
from him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, thank you,
Grandmother.”

Rachael sipped the coffee
and made a face. “Eww. That brings back memories.”

Yank smiled.

“You have a new son. He’ll
be a week old tomorrow.”

“I heard. How is
he?”

“Perfect.”

“And Marina?”

“She was up and out of bed
the following morning.”

“What’s his
name?”

“Thomas. What else? How did
you hear about him?”

“I travelled from Albany on
a navy brig that makes the trip weekly. I knew several of the
officers. Your nephew David was among them. He sends you his
love.”

“David Van
Buskirk?”

“Yes. He’s sailing this
morning for the Mediterranean.”

“And so he told you about
baby Thomas?”

“Yes. Other than the child’s
name, he seemed well informed about the goings-on here.”

“I should say he is.” She
tried to read Yank’s face for a moment then dropped her
eyes.

“Is something troubling you,
Grandmother?”