"We didn't think to ask, but should we bury him Indian style?" Clay asked suddenly letting her go.
"No, he was white, he should be buried like a white man."
Clay nodded. "How long ago did your mother die?"
"Last winter. It was very hard on our tribe, as we were fighting going to the reservation. The chief knew there would be little food and shelter there. He'd been before, and he swore never to return. But the blue coats had other ideas. They moved us often and it took a while for my father to find us. Now I understand why my tribe did not want to go. They do not provide things we need, like enough blankets, food. It was very hard there, and many died. I do not think it was the weather, the blankets or the lack of food, I think their spirits died in captivity. My tribe was a traveling tribe. We wandered over the prairies finding food and shelter, to be cooped up in one place, was like prison. My father was the same, he had no home, but we had plans to make one."
"It's a lot of work to move from one place to another."
"Yes, it is, but sometimes it is very worth it, especially when the land will produce its own foods and the water is not polluted. We have seen on the wagon trains how the water is bad because of so many people and do not think to keep the water away from the waste. It creates a sickness."
"Yeah," He studied her a moment. "You're very intelligent." He noted.
"Education can be more than learning to read. I cannot read, nor write, but I can do sums, I know nature and I have learned about many different people in our travels. You see we came from the high country. We warred with many before settling close to the Red River."
"I see, well your welcome to stay. You make my father happy, you and Elan."
"Happy?"
"Yeah, when he wanted me to marry, I never realized it was because he wanted children around the place so badly. His eyes sparkle with life now, something I haven't seen in a very long time. It gives me pleasure to see it in his eyes."
"Thank you. And I am glad." She looked at him, staring at him, her eyes going over him for a moment with interest. "You love him very much, don't you?"
"Yeah, I guess I do." Clay smiled a bit wistful. "My Ma died some time ago, so it's just been me and him for a lot of years."
"Then I will stay for a while, as long as I bring no trouble upon you. Again, thank you for your kindness."
Just then a wagon pulled up and a beautiful blond-haired woman jumped down into Clay's arms. She seemed to stare at Clay with questions in her eyes. "Laura, didn't expect to see you today."
Laura glanced at Willa quickly, "Yes, I can see that. I brought you some food." She said turning back to the wagon. She looked into his eyes with a question.
"Well now, I guess I should tell you, we've hired a cook and housekeeper. This is Willa Turner. Willa this Laura Hinton." Clay walked her over to the Indian girl.
"Willa, well, this is a surprise." Laura's glance slid over Willa quickly, noting the buckskin dress she wore, with the slits up the side, her long black braid, but nothing shocked her more when she heard a baby crying.
"Yeah, it all happened kind of fast." Clay chuckled.
Laura walked inside and Willa ran to get her baby. She spread a blanket on the floor and put a couple of things the baby could chew on within reach of his chubby hands.
"A baby?" Laura's face was a mask of emotions, none of them friendly.
Charlie saw Laura and got up. "Yes, his name is Elan, that means friendly." Charlie chuckled.
"Really, well, when did all of this happen?" Laura asked not hiding her curiosity and her eyes kept drifting back to Willa with obvious dismay.
"Yesterday," Clay told her.
"Yesterday," Laura's eyes widened. Anyone could see she was shocked by the woman and baby.
"Yes, we had a little skirmish here yesterday and Willa's father died." Clay informed her. "We are about to bury him out by Ma."
"You are going to put him by your mother? I mean, good grief, an Indian by your mother?" Laura exclaimed loudly.
"He wasn't Indian," Charlie spoke up quickly. "But it wouldn't matter if he was. He was a person Laura, and he fought to live just like we did."
Again, Laura's eyes seemed to travel from her, to the baby to Clay. "Then… she's a breed?"
Clay's brows narrowed on Laura. "She's a woman, Laura. That's all. We've been dealing with Indians for years. Now there is peace, and after all the deaths it's time to go on with life. Hate only brews hate."