Flight of Fancy: Cora's Daughters (10 page)

“Em hm, bet not, ain’t got no rights to. Naw, where m’clothes at?”

“Got rid’of’em.”

“What?!”

“You heard – they gone.”

“You… who tell you t’do that? I tell you? No! Why I’on like no man.” She fussed, “What I’m s’pose to wear now?”

“Farmer’s wife got clothes for you - that cover you decent – the way a woman supposed to be covered.” He returned.

“Cover me decent...” She repeated his words with disdain, “...can’t climb no trees in’em! Can’t run through no woods! Can’t get a good fight goin' in’em! Can’t swim – can’t ride! Don’ wan’em!”

“I knew you was gonna say that. So I ask to have some of their boy’s clothes for you when we traveling.”

“Ain’t wearin’ no boys clothes.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I ain’t.”

“Yes you are!”

“No – I – am – not…” she argued, “…now get me my clothes I make fo’myself!” She ordered him.

“Asiza, you bein' downright ungrateful – you know that? All I've done for you. I've killed for you!”

“I ask'yah? Huh? No, not one time. Where my clothes at?”

Broc sat a moment watching her continue to eat. She ate while eyeballing him, of course waiting for an answer.

She chewed, swallowed and, “Well?”

“I cannot get you – what you don’t have anymore – you hear what I’m sayin’?”

She gave him the evil eye, wishing all kinds of curses on him.

“Don’t care how you look at me, what’s done, is done.”

“Can’t wait to be rid’o’you.” She mumbled.

“You plannin’ on killing me?”

“I should’ah… should’ah put a arrow right in yo’nekkid rump right at that lake.”

A brow lifted, Broc smiled at her, gazing into alluring eyes – she was the kind of woman it was hard to take your eyes off of, especially with those eyes gazing back at you. “Ah, I knew it, how long you stay watchin' me?” He asked, grinning.

When she realized what she said, her face set aflame and her nose went in the air, refusing to answer his question, she carried on eating.

He decided to inform her, “Killin'me - that’s what it’s gone take Asiza – to get rid’o’me. Somebody, or you – gonna have to kill me. Until that day, I got my sights on you.”

“Don’ know why – go fin’yo’self a pretty white woman – one of’em out there take you. You ain’t that bad on the eyes.”

He only smiled more, intently watching her, absorbing every detail of her features. For that moment, she was doing the same.

He had a different shade of hair than most she’d seen, it was a dark color with red and russet shining from it, especially when the sun hit it. His eyes were green, kind of like hers but more true a green. His features were strong, the way a man’s should be, with a healthy mouth and nice lips, not too full, but not skinny either. His neck was thick, his shoulders broad and wide – his body solid, big and strong – his hands were the same. Asiza shook her head at what she saw as a man before her, and any idea of believing in him. She knew that he watched her look him over – and felt no reason to pretend she wasn’t looking.

Pulling her eyes from him and back to the tick mattress, she asked, “How come… you don’… try an’… well, hurt me – like them others wanna hurt me?” She glanced up just a moment and then back to the mattress again.

“I told you, I’m not like them other men. We not all alike – just like, not all of you are alike. They choose to be who they are and I choose to be who I am.” He paused, gazing at her, as if her presence cast a spell over him, “I’m a strong, healthy man. I’ah never do you wrong.

All this time now, you have to know, that I want you – you know that don’t you?”

She thought about his words a moment and asked, “They pay you t’come afta’ me - don’ you want yo’money?”

“Just like you could’ah kill me – many a time, I could’ah kill you and got my money. But that money is not what I want.”

She glanced up, “That don’ make no sense, you ain’ makin’ no sense. All yah’ll want is money – gol’ – all you like that.”

“No Asiza, that just ain’t so.”

They stared at each other for a while before she sighed out loud, “I think you wanna didle me firs’ – then you take me, get yo’ money.”

He only smiled, fighting not to laugh again at her words for what a man does to a woman. “Look at me Asiza…” He instructed as she'd glanced away, but now he had her full attention, “… I could have done that already, if that’s all I want. What you think?”

She shrugged at a loss for words, looking away once more.

“You free right now – what you plannin’ to do with yourself? Do with the rest of your life? Don’t you wanna be with somebody? Don’t you want a man to take care of you, love you?”

She shook her head, unable to look at him.

“I don't believe that. God make a good woman with intentions of her being loved by a good man. You that woman, I'm that man.”

“How I'm suppose t'know that?”

Broc smiled, “You knowin’ already Asiza – you knowin’ already.”

“All I know is what yo'kind wanna do t'me. Do t'more like me. I'on want no man, treatin' me like that. Sides, even if I did want me a man, won't work.”

“Why not?”

With hooded eyes, she slowly looked up at him once more, “I ain’ meant t’live long – woman like me, meant t’die. They gone catch me, they gone kill me. You bes' take me in, o'somebody else do, an’ get yo’ money.”

He sighed, “Asiza, I'm not taking you in. Long as I live, nobody else will be either.”

“Don' matter, i's what meant to be.”

“If that’s so, why you fight it Asiza? Why you refuse to be – used up and then – set aside? Why you refuse to die? Why you refuse what the white man try to make you? Why?”

She thought about it for a spell, eyes looking off into the distance, trying to come up with a decent answer for his questions.

He patiently waited, but she didn’t say – or wouldn’t say, instead, “I thank, i’s time you go yo’way – time fo’me – t’go mine.”

“We goin’ north Asiza.”

“Why cain’t you leave me alone!” She snapped, getting impatient with him, “I’mo die one day, I’m lookin’ to die!”

“No Asiza… you lookin’ to live. You fightin’ to live! Otherwise, you would’ah stayed where you were sure to die.”

“I’on wanna talk to you no more. Stop followin’ me, don’ do nothin’ else for me. I do fo’myself – you hear'me?”

Broc knew that breaking her, was going to take persistence, even so, he needed her to know his plans, “Asiza… I promise you – I’ah never leave your side. I’ah never hurt you. I’ah fight for your life, like I’ah fight for mine. I’ah never take money for you, because you worth more than all the money I’ve seen. And when you ready t’trust a man, when you ready to know a man, when you need to feel the real reason God made you – for a man – I – wanna be that man. My name is, Broc Wolf. I’m the son of Irish slaves – I’m the son of the Tuscarora tribe – I’m the son of the wolf clan. And you – you are my mate – and we are mated for life. When you ready to accept that, I’ll be here.”

He stood from the floor, “That bundle has clothes.” He pointed to the roll at the end of the mattress and went to the bucket, picked it up, climbed the steep stairs and went out, closing the trap door leaving her sitting quietly within.

Chapter Six

Asiza couldn’t remember how long she’d sat hidden away below in that protected place. Thinking – looking down the road. She had no plan. She had no home, no destination.

He did.

She shook it off.

She had yet to meet the people who had provided her hideaway. In truth, she had never known of such a place or kind people - who hid slaves in order to deliver them to the next leg of their journey. Once more, she found herself unsure of what to do next. She was also struggling not to think about the man… Broc. Being human, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to belong to him. Solely his and no one else’s. She wondered if she could handle that?

He said that he wanted her.

He said they would be mates for life.

Again, it didn’t make sense – he didn’t make sense to her.

She unrolled the clothing. There were things for a lady to wear, including wads of cheese cloth and bundles of cotton - in with them, things for a boy. She put on the boys clothing. There were socks, slacks with suspenders, shoes, and a button up shirt. There was a little jacket and a hat as well – she would need both.

With all the things she needed, weapons, gear and the feminine clothing, bundled tightly together, she came up from the hole. Her eyes roamed, looking around the barn – the smell of fresh hay filled her senses. The door to the barn was wide open. Hesitant with every step – she made her way outside. It was dusk – so close to being dark. She could see Flower & Nik-Nik with two other horses in a corral beside the outbuilding. Flower saw her and walked over as if asking to be freed so they could go.

Asiza went to her, stroking her long dark nose, kissing it gently, “We goin’ in a bit girl,
was
jus’gone take off. That ain't nice though – so, got’s to say my thanks – then we go, okay?” She stroked her nose once more with affection.

At the house, she walked around to the back entrance, hoping it was the kitchen door - all the while craning her ear to hear voices, looking for people, and the man, Broc. She eased quietly up the steps, putting her things down by the door. Within, a mud room to take off coats, boots, shoes before entering the home. With wide eyes she moved forward calling out, “Somebody here? I’m lookin’ t’say bye,” she entered and was met immediately by the lady of the house.

“Well look a’here, come on in.” The woman’s voice was sweet, gentle and filled with kindness.

Stepping up into the kitchen, she encountered Broc, and a younger woman. It was plain to see, the younger was no doubt daughter to the older - they looked so much alike. Both handsome women – red-headed, freckles and fair.

The moment she entered the room, Broc’s eyes were on her, as if he’d been watching the door anticipating her entry.

Continuing to address her, the lady of the house did all to make her feel at-ease. “You look so much better. You were plum exhausted when you first arrived. I never seen someone so dead to the world. Even had a little fever – Mr. Wolf tells us you’re much better now.”

Asiza went into a standing position reminiscent of the military, legs together, arms close to her side, holding the hat before her, head down – eyes glancing up and then down to the floor, not to make too much eye contact with the lady.

“Yes missus, much betta’ – I thank ya’ fo’all you do. Gone go now, jus’ want you t'know how
grateful
I am.” Her eyes cut to Broc upon the word grateful. He grinned and winked at her - proud.

They were standing around the kitchen. While the older woman baked, the daughter struggled with churning butter and keeping her eyes off of Broc. Asiza could see why. He was a sound man, well-mannered and pleasing to be around. She wondered why he didn't just go for the young white lady with red hair? Her skin was alabaster white - full lips, pretty brown eyes.

Asiza's eyes moved from her to the basket on the counter that the lady of the house was filling – it looked like Broc was standing over it as if waiting for her to be done. 

“That's what we're here for – somebody has to correct the wrongs been done you. My husband and I plan to do our part. We just want you to make it out the south safe.”

“Again, I thanx you. I'm rested up good now, bes' get going.”

“In a moment we'll be departing.” Broc spoke up.

Standing in the midst of kind white people, Asiza fell naturally into holding her tongue and being respectful – she would tell him off later.

“I fear that you do have a problem Mr. Wolf. Looking at your wife, I'm afraid she looks nothing like a boy. Those clothes will only help a bit.” The women commented on Asiza’s figure, stunning face and long platted hair.

Asiza’s eyes grew large, rushing from looking at him to the woman, wondering at the words she’d just said.

Broc sighed, “Yes ma'am, I’m thinking the same.” They stared at Asiza, trying to think of ways to make her more boy like.

As for Asiza, since they weren’t acting strange about what the lady said, she wasn’t going to give it any attention either. Maybe it was something he’d said to them. Maybe that was the reason he gave for traveling with her. They were religious people after all – she knew that about them.

“I think we may have to bind you sweetheart – make you look more flat chested.” The older woman was doing all the talking now. “Make sure when people around, you keep your hat on your head, so they can’t see all that hair, that’ll sure give you away with them locks. Besides…” She shook her head, “…those eyes of yours, pure giveaway. Not possible to make you look like a boy or anything close.” She despaired, then realized she should introduce herself, “I’m Mrs. Hardy by the way, my husband is Reverend Hardy, he’ll be back later on tonight.” She explained about his absence. Asiza gave a slight smile, nodded her head to show good manners. As for her looking like a boy, she knew how important that was. Especially traveling alone – despite what Broc said. She glanced around the woman’s kitchen and saw her scissors laying on the counter. Walking to them, she picked them up, “I borrow these from ya’?” She asked, gently.