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Authors: Unknown

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Miss Pettibone made it extremely clear she thought all Indians lived in dirty hovels, wore nothing but loincloths and warpaint on their faces, and scalped and murdered people for entertainment. Wouldn't she be surprised to see how this savage heathen lived! Blair thought smugly as she followed Tillie to the kitchen. She squealed with joy when she saw that a sink and water pump had been installed there
.

      
"How wonderful! We have water piped into the house now!" She hurried over and pumped the handle, and laughed aloud when water poured over her hands. "Coy never told me about this!"

      
"Did he tell you about the other surprise?"

      
She turned expectantly. "No, what other surprise?"

      
Actually, there were two more, but if Coy had not mentioned them in letters, Tillie wanted Blair to see one of them without so much as a hint.

      
"We've done got uppity!" she said, beaming smugly. "Mr. Warren had a room built on that's used solely for bathing and for no other reason! He also said one of these days he would build an . . . an . . . excusing room."

      
"I beg your pardon?"

      
Tillie grinned bashfully. "Mr. Warren used a different word for it, but I don't recall what it is, so Ah just refer to it as an excusing room. You know, a room where you can excuse yourself without having to go to the outhouse."

      
"Oh, I see," Blair said, concealing her amusement over Tillie's reference to people's call of nature. Deftly changing the subject, she asked, "Where are my brothers? You said they would return shortly. Is Grandfather with them?"

      
Tillie grimaced. "Gracious, Missy, Ah hope you don't think me and the truth has parted friendship, but Ah stood out there and told you a bald face lie. Ah don't 'spect your brothers 'fore tomorrow or the next day, and the old man's been gone least a month now visiting friends in the Cherokee Nation. Don't look for him back 'fore another week or two. Like Ah said. Ah thought you were nesters and didn't want you to think Ah was here by myself for any length of time. Mr. Warren told me to be careful and that's what Ah was a-doing."

      
Blair gave her a reassuring smile. "I understand and don't blame you at all. You were just being cautious." Still dreading to face Warren, but wanting to get the confrontation over with, she spoke more to herself than to Tillie, "I should have known they would be rounding up cattle at this time of the year."

      
"Oh, no, Missy . . . well, they were until they got word that the Tribal Council had called a 'mergency meeting. They've been gone for four days now. Mr. Warren left one of the ranch hands in charge and he also left 'structions for the men to stay out on the range to ride guard over the herd cause there has been some stealin' going on. Ah’ve been here all alone and Ah don't mind saying, Ah've been plenty scaird!" Tillle clicked her tongue. "Here Ah am, rattling my head off while you're starving. Just make yourself at home and Ah'll be back shortly." She grabbed a pitcher and a small straw basket from the counter top and hurried out the back door.

      
Apprehension twisted around Blair's heart as she sat down at the kitchen table. Since the Tribal Council had called an emergency meeting, and with Warren issuing such stern orders, there was reason for definite concern. And she sensed the concern went far beyond the loss of a relatively small parcel of land to the north. When that land was opened to the settlers, in all likelihood it would only whet their appetite for more. Where would it end? Only time would tell, but she had a terrible feeling that nothing would ever be the same again. Suddenly, her earlier fears of what Warren would say or do to her seemed childish and insignificant.

      
A few minutes later Tillie returned, burdened with a full pitcher of milk and the basket filled with potatoes, carrots, onions, and apples and two jars of canned meat. She set them on the counter. "Corn-bread and buttermilk is fine for lunch, but thought you might want something more filling for supper," she explained, breathing heavily from her quick dash to the cellar. "Mr. Warren tol' me he was goin' slaughter a steer so we can have some fresh beef, but until he does, Ah'll add these vegetables to this canned meat . . . and you won't hardly know the difference from fresh. Ah decided to bake some apple pies, too."

      
"Uh, ma'am, the trunks are unloaded." Bobby stood in the back doorway, nervously twisting his hat.

      
"Wait just a minute, young man. Ah don't have but two hands." Tillie reached into the cabinet, removed a loaf of bread and began cutting it into thick slices.

      
While the woman had her back turned, Bobby grabbed at the opportunity to speak to Blair. "Uh . . . Blair . . . uh . . ."

      
"Come on in, Bobby. I want to thank you for bringing me home." Although Blair had already paid Bobby's employer for his services, she reached into her reticule and withdrew a coin. "Here is something extra for unloading all of those trunks."

      
"Oh, no, it ain't necessary." He tried to push the money back into her hand.

      
"Yes, it is. I insist."

      
"I'd rather you let me call on you instead!" Bobby blurted in a rush of words, shifting his weight uneasily. "I know that you are a few years older 'n me, but you're so pretty and . . . have always been so nice . . . and then too, when me 'n Pa claims some of that land, I'll build us a house just like this'n . . . and you won't want for nothin'. 'Course, don't think it's no secret how Pa feels about Indians and breeds, so we might have to keep our courtin' from him for a while, but he'll come around in time."

      
She drew her breath in surprise at the depth and sincerity of his feelings, but there was no way on God's green earth she could ever consider his proposal. He was years younger than she, and being afflicted with simple-mindedness made him seem even more childlike. But regardless of that, even if he had been an intelligent, handsome man, she would never consider marrying him—he was filled with too many prejudices and bigotries. She had to say something to permanently discourage his attentions. But what? It went against her nature to be deliberately cruel, yet what other recourse did she have than to be truthful? Then an idea struck her.

      
She deliberately stammered, "B-Bobby, I’m sorry, I thought I t-told you."

      
"Told me what?"

      
Blair swallowed hard, it had always been difficult for her to he. "W-why ... my hand has already been spoken for . . . or it will be as soon as my young man arrives and speaks to Warren." She heard Tillie gasp, but refrained from looking in her direction.

      
All color drained from Bobby's face. He gulped loudly. "Oh ... I didn't know," he mumbled, toeing the floor. "Guess I've made ... a fool out of myself."

      
"But you haven't! I think it —was very sweet of you to ask . . . and I do hope we can remain friends. I have always valued your friendship." Again, another lie, but a lie spoken to prevent cruelty would probably be forgiven.

      
Bobby, staring at the floor, brushed at his eyes. He mumbled softly, "Well, he darn sure better treat you good, or he'll have me to answer to."

      
Blair then glanced at Tillie, silently imploring for help. Nodding, the woman quickly wrapped the thick sandwiches in a clean white cloth and thrust them into Bobby's hands.

      
"Ah'll see you to the door, young man. Miss Blair is plum tuckered out and she needs to eat a bite before she lies down to rest. You be real careful on your way back to Doughtery, you hear."

      
Blair deliberately kept her eyes averted, not wanting to see the pain so evident on Bobby's face.

      
Moments later, Tillie stood beside Blair's chair, smiling broadly, her hands akimbo. "Now Ah know why you came home un'spected. Ah'll wager that your brothers —'specially Mr. Warren — didn't know you were a-coming. This news will certainly take 'em by surprise! When do you 'spect your young man? Ah reckon he's from back east?"

      
Her slender hands unconsciously twisted together. "I don't have a young man, Tillie," Blair said, a bit reluctant to admit she had lied. "I merely told him that so he would not pester me to death."

      
"Ah see," she said, wondering precisely why Blair had come home at this time. Had there really been a man in her life or had she heard of the trouble that was getting worse every day. In due time the girl would tell her, she just had to be patient. "Well, can't say that Ah blame you none. That boy is too young, too homely, and too poor for a pretty girl like you!"

      
"Money and looks are really not that important to me, Tillie," she insisted. "Even if Bobby were a handsome man and owned a king's fortune, I could never be romantically interested in someone like him. The man I marry will have to accept me the way I am, and not be ashamed of my mixed blood." She sighed heavily; her features were softly composed, a slightly wistful, slightly fatalistic set to them. Tillie had no way of knowing her thoughts were on a man a thousand miles away. "And thus far, I have never met a man like that . . . and at times, I doubt if one even exists."

      
Uh huh! There was a man in her life, and it appears he broke her heart, "Ah'm sure there is, Miss Blair. One o' these days a man will come along and he'll be all you ever wanted. Then 'fore you know it, you'll be bouncin' babies on your knee. Just mark my words, that's how it’s goin’ to happen."

      
Afraid that Tillie would soon ask why she was here, Blair quickly stated, "My mouth has been watering for a bowl of cornbread and buttermilk ever since you mentioned it." She deeply breathed the aroma. "The cornbread smells delicious. If it tastes as good as it smells. ..."

      
Tillie beamed with pride. "Now, you know it will! My cooking hasn't changed in the least. But don't you want to take a bath and get out of them traveling clothes 'fore you eat?"

      
"No, I am too hungry to wait. I will just wash my face and hands here at the sink and take a bath and a nap when I finish."

      
While Blair washed, Tillie cut the golden brown cornbread into pie shaped wedges, then she set the platter of cornbread, the pitcher of milk, a bowl, and a spoon on the table. She then added a few pieces of wood to the firebox of the huge cast-iron stove before putting kettles of bath water on to heat.

      
The food was so delicious, Blair had to make a conscious effort not to eat too quickly. "Tell me what's been happening around here. Coy wrote regularly but I am sure there is so much he never mentioned." She listened attentively as Tillie bustled about the kitchen while filling her in on all the news concerning her brothers and grandfather. Blair already knew most of what Tillie told her, but it felt so good to sit in her own home and hear someone talk about her loved ones.

      
Both Samuel and Collin had married during the time she had spent back east; Samuel had married a full-blood Chickasaw woman, and Collin, a woman with mixed blood like himself. They were happily settled in their own homes on the land that had been granted to each of them by the Tribal Council. Blair knew that their land had been used by the Bar 4 for years, but building homes on the land reinforced their claim. And, with the whites soon to settle so close to their land, she conceded that it might prove to be a wise move indeed. She was also told that her grandfather was starting to show and feel his advanced years. Warren had finally started courting someone—Tillie didn't know who — alleviating their grandfather's fears that he would never marry. And Coy showed no signs of settling down, but Blair had already surmised that by his letters.

      
When Blair finally pushed back her bowl, Tillie grasped the two steaming kettles by their bales and firmly ushered her to the bathing room with strict orders to soak for at least an hour before she showed her face. Exhausted from her long journey, Blair did not argue.

 

 

 

 

 

      
Where is Tillie? Blair wondered dismally. I have called her and called her. If she doesn't bring a towel or my robe soon, I will turn into a wrinkled prune. Annoyance sharpened her tone, "Tillie! Tillie! Where are you?"

      
Tillie finally opened the door and peered around it, wide-eyed. "You calling me, Missy?"

      
She bit back the sharp retort that was on the tip of her tongue. There was no need in getting cross with Tillie just because she was tired. Besides, if her sight was failing, perhaps her hearing was, too. "Yes, I've been calling. I am stranded in here. There are no towels on the rack and my robes are packed away in my trunks."

      
Tillie removed the items hidden behind her back and dangled them at Blair as she hurried inside. "Are these what you're wanting? Lordy, Ah thought you were going to shout the roof down in here."

      
"All of those times I called . . . you heard me?"

      
"Sure did," she said, helping the girl dry off and slip on her robe.

      
"Why didn't you answer?" Blair's curiosity was aroused. Tillie was definitely up to something.

      
" 'Cause Ah was busy . . . remember when Ah tol' you about this bathing room? Ah failed to mention there was another surprise, too. Mr. Warren will be highly disappointed that he wasn't here to see your face, but it can't be helped." She led Blair into the hallway. "Now close your eyes and be sure and not to peek . . . not even a little bit."

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