Flight of Fancy: Cora's Daughters (18 page)

“Tol’ you, in that table.” She grumbled.

He walked to the table, looking it over. There were things on top that she was preparing to pack and take.

“Get all that out the way.”

Sighing, Asiza gathered the ends of the table cloth and lifted it and the contents, moving them out of his way.

He snatched the table away from the wall, searching beneath it. He looked at the empty wood chip box and pulled it out, nothing to it. Then the log box, only the square sides of it pulled away, but the bottom remained. Broc glanced up smiling, on his knees - he used his knife tip to work into the edge - prying it up from the groove it was set in on the ground. Lifting it away, there to find, six more bags of gold.

His head went back, giving an Indian jubilant cry, “Yeeeeh-Yeet-Yeet-Yeet!” Turning to her, looking like his eyes would pop clean out of his head - bright as the moon at night - excitement and elation bursting from him.

“Asiza - darlin’ look what we got!”

She didn’t share in his enthusiasm, “Don’ care, i’s evil, leave it.”

“Woman what kind of craziness you speakin’?!”

“I’s evil man’s gold.”

“Asiza, men are evil – gold – is not evil, depends on the hands it’s in!”

“Don’ care, don’ wan’it.”

Broc scrubbed his face in frustration, still kneeling, he looked to the heavens, “Lord God Almighty, you give me this wife – tell her Lord that gold is not evil – pleeease Lord!” Turning to her, he was almost pleading, “Asiza think of all the good it could do?”

“Since when you’da Lawd? I’m waitin’ on him t’tell me, an’ I ain’ hearin’ nothin’ but you.”

Broc came to his feet, “Asiza…” he pointed at the gold, “… we taking this gold…” he pointed towards the door, “… we loadin’ it on them horses, that I’m
keepin’
…” he thrust his arm and finger a second time for emphasis towards the door, “… and I’m claiming the bounty on them two dead criminals, you hear?”

His eyes glared at her, trying to look his fiercest.

“Can I take somethin’ too?” She asked.

He made a face, “What you wanna take?”

“Want that big cauldron. I like it, wanna take them cookin’ pots too, the rest what we use.”

He couldn’t believe her, “No!”

“You takin’ all that gol’.” She argued.

“Asiza, I’m not gone be clang’da’banging all down the road with pots and pans, that’s just nonsense! It’s too much!”

“It ain’t as much as that evil gol’.”

“Asiza, it is not - evil. ‘Sides, we get where we goin’ I’ah buy you all the pots, pans, dishes and other such woman stuff, as much as you desire.”

“Right here before God the Father up in heaven, not to one single request will I say no, promise! Now can we please get loaded and go?”

“You gone have to help me boy up.”

Broc nodded his head in agreement, “That’s just fine with me, I’ah help, but let’s get it done.”

Once more, they were on the road.

When Asiza started out weeks before, she was alone, running for her life – waiting for the day when they would get her. Then, a man came out of the woods while she bathed at the lake - Broc… now, her husband. There she was, dressed like a boy, riding Flower – with her husband beside her. Who led three other horses, two of which carried a dead body each. All five of them, carried gold. Life had a funny way of taking one on twists and turns, sometimes while one wasn’t looking.

“Lawd, God up in heaven, this a mys’try to me. Got gol’, dead men, horses and Masta’ Broc-…”

“Your husband!” He reminded her, listening to the mumbled prayer - part of it a complaint to God.

“So he say…” She mumbled on, “Lawd, I start m’life, not expectin’ much – ain’t thank I was gone live. I did. M’mama said I need to learn t’be a fancy – I did. But - can’t be no fancy-…”

“You my fancy.” Broc declared.

“Masta’ Broc, I’m talkin’ t’the Lawd, not you.” She informed him. He only grunted to that, riding on – relaxed and easy in his saddle, his sharp green eyes continuously and steady on the road they traveled.

“Now, as I was sayin’, I don’ ask for much, don’ wan’ much – I jus’ wan’ what you’ah bless me to have-…”

“All that gold.” Broc tossed in again.

Asiza glanced his way, “Lawd don’ like a man that interrupt prayers to him. I’m talkin’ t’my Father up above ‘bout the way m’life goin’-…”

“Which be where I’m leadin’ you.”

“Wit’ wicked evil gol’.”

“Gold that the Lord sent me to find. That same Lord sent me to find you Asiza, then he tell me to protect you. I have. Next, the Lord said I could not have you, unless I marry you. I did – didn’t complain! Ain’t even had you yet, my own wife – no-sir-ree – I have not. Still ain’t complaining - no not one time. Seeing to your needs, the Lord led me to that cabin, and there was all that gold! Lord wants you to have that gold Asiza.”

Asiza rode a while saying nothing more - keeping her prayer to herself since her husband kept interrupting. Then something occurred to her, “You say the Lawd want’me to have that gold?”

“Yes he do.”

“Well then, I accept. So when we gets t’town, you turn in half’uv’it with them two dead bodies. Say that’s all you found uv’it. They pay you yo’bounty – we be content wit’the res’.”

“Half?” He repeated.

“Three bags go’ta’them, we keep two.”

“That ain’t half!” Broc protested.

“What you got of yo’own - I fin’ one - you fin’ one – they get the res’ back...an, you get yo’bounty, tha’s plenny enough - we move on.”-

“Tha’s what the Lawd jus’ tell me.”

“Ah, hang on here, I ain’t hear the Lord say no such a’thing! He ain’t tell me that!” Broc mumbled.

“He was not talkin’ t’you, he talkin’ t’me. You say i’s my gold, that seem fair.”

Broc thought he was better off not saying another word. It was plain to see that his wife had no idea how well in front and in command this could put them. Saying his own little prayer to God, he begged his forgiveness, but that gold was with them to stay.

They rode for a long time, neither one speaking after that.

Dusk was moving in on them, and they started looking for a place to rest for the night. They traveled as long as they dared, trying to cover as much distance as possible. The moon was high before they finally found a good spot.

Asiza had had this moment on her mind for the last few hours, something in her body, in her soul - longed for her husband. Like a magnet was drawn to steel. She also noticed that he would not stop until he found the right forest. In her mind, she was done with climbing trees. She wanted to lay her head only where he laid his.

They tied up the other horses – Broc pulled the two bodies down, while Asiza saw to last moment night needs by placing their bed rolls down. It was while she knelt straightening them out that he approached her, “What are you doin’?”

“Getting’ our bed ready,” she replied, smiling.

His gaze was unwavering, firm and clear as he shook his head and pointed his index finger up. Asiza’s eyes followed up and immediately knew what he was ordering.

“Gone sleep down here wit’you.”

“No, up you go.” He gently ordered.

Aghast, Asiza stood staring into the shadows of his face, “Don’ you wanna, didle’me?” The tone of her voice said how baffled she was by him. Due to their special circumstances, Broc was unwilling to take even the slightest chance of endangering her - them. Making love to her would consume all the senses of his being. Such complete preoccupation could very well cost them their lives. There was another matter that badgered him as well – he knew her history. He knew how she had been treated, or rather, how they had intended to treat her.

As much as he truly desired to have her, he did not want her to look at him ever, with the eyes that she viewed all others.

That kept coming back to his mind.

Special, when they consummated their marriage, there was something in him that wanted it to be done right – special and beautiful. The way it should be when a man finds his soulmate. As in, honorable – respectful and with the decency she deserved.

Which meant in a safe and upright place. 

“When the time right, we will lie as husband and wife…” Lifting a hand to cup her jaw, he leaned down and lightly kissed her lips, “…we need our rest, go’on - up.”  Once more he gave another kiss and then he stood away.

With little choice, Asiza accepted. As it was familiar to her, up into the tree, she went. Once she settled, she glanced down to see her husband lying right at its base. That feeling she could not explain to him when they were at the hidden cabin, suddenly came over her again. Thinking about that sensation, she wondered if her mother would think her foolish, feeling in such a way about a white man.

Nevertheless, there was no way of denying that he made her feel good inside her soul. So very similar to how she felt about her mother and sisters – although this was different.

“Get some sleep.” He called softly up to her, as if he knew she was wide awake and thinking of them. The next morning, they were up early, heading for the nearest stream where they would let the horses drink their fill.

That day, Broc was determined they would cover as much ground as possible.

Soon, the bodies would begin to bloat and stink and it wasn’t something he wished to put her through. They rode as long as they dared, and then walked to give the horses a rest, so they could keep on moving. Broc knew that he’d set them at a rigorous pace, but he wanted out of the south, as soon as possible. Lingering would mean, that they might be forced to kill again, he’d just as rather not – but if the need arose, he would do what he had to do, there was no reason to stop now.

He looked back at his wife, not one protest. He knew that she was struggling to keep up with him, but she only worked harder to do so, not asking once to stop and rest. “How you feel?”

She was a bit winded, perspiration spotted her forehead, but answered, “Like we gotta keep on goin’, tha’s what we gone do.”

Broc smiled, “Why don’t you ride a bit, switch horses if you want.” He suggested.

“You gone ride a bit?” She asked, trying to widen her steps to match his.

“I’m aimin' to go further.” He returned.

“Me too then.” She replied.

He walked a bit more, than stopped, turned to her, “I want you t’ride.” He insisted.

“Why can’t you switch horses, an’ ride?”

“Asiza, two horses carry bodies – our horses carry us, only one horse to switch to. Now, up on it to ride, I’m taking the reins and setting off at a trot. On foot, you can’nah keep up with me.”

She was fast, but she already knew that she wasn’t as fast as he was if expected to run the distance.

“Come on, please? Up you go.”

Sighing and giving in, Asiza went to the horse that hadn’t been carrying anything but gold, she climb on and nodded that she was ready, taking the reins in hand.

Broc took the reins for the horses carrying the dead weight and set off in a trot that was faster than Asiza expected. He was really moving. She suddenly realized that her walking – caused him to hold back for her sake. Nik-Nik and Flower followed along freely as if they were with a herd and Broc was their stallion.

They moved with greater and continuous speed with him acting as if he did not tire.

Sitting upon her mount, Asiza watched him with a speeding heart - to see his hair blowing and flapping in the wind. Right then, she saw him as one would see a warrior – running wild and free upon the Great Plains that was once theirs. Although his skin appeared fair, his heart and his soul was that of a native. Smooth, with agile grace his legs pumped and plowed onward determined to get them to safety. Asiza sat watching him from behind, when moisture gathered in her eyes. She knew beyond any doubt what her feelings were for him.

She was in love with her husband.

Chapter Twelve        

What else could explain how preoccupied her mind was with thoughts of him? Everything had changed since that day he’d strolled upon her at the lake. Before him, she had been resigned to die and perhaps soon. Back then, she did not fear it, only waited for it to arrive. Now she did not want to die. More than that, she did not want him to die. Singing throughout her bloodstream were tiny voices as if humming a message to protect him, stand with him, embrace him, trust him, follow him and certainly, love him.

She now wanted to do all of those things with every fiber of her being. Suddenly, from discovering all of those feelings, it appeared that her senses were honed, deepened. Like never before, she tingled with what was happening around them. She could see clearer, smell sharper, and hear more. The green of the forest, was now greener, the sky brighter – bluer. The meadow with its small, wildlife activity – all of it seemed so much more alive.

As they cut into the woods, picking up the stream once more, they stopped at a babbling brook where the horses could drink. Broc stood, taking several deep breaths, removing his shirt. He went to his knees and dunked his head into the stream. When he came up shaking his hair free of excess water, he glanced up to see his wife staring at him, as if she were in a trance. Broc stood, watching the way she looked at him.