"Really? You didn't have relatives that were killed by them or you wouldn't be so easy to accept them." Laura's eyes festered on Willa now. "And the baby?"
It was a question, as though it might belong to Clay, and for a moment, Clay seemed amused that she would draw such a conclusion.
"Is her son." Charlie concluded with a slight frown.
Laura stood up, "Well, I can see she has things under control, I must go now."
"So soon, you just got here. I thought maybe you'd like to get to know Willa, since she's gonna be here now."
Clay was antagonizing her, and he could tell he succeeded by the huge frown on Laura's face.
"Another time perhaps," she shot Willa an
arrogant brow and walked out of the house. She didn't speak directly to Willa and Willa understood the hate she saw in her eyes. She had seen it many times with her tribe.
Charlie followed her out, "Thanks for stopping by."
Laura looked down at him, for Charlie wasn't a big man. "You know everyone in town will know about this. They'll talk."
"So?" Charlie challenged.
"No decent white man would hire an Indian to cook for them. Is that baby Clay's?" She asked with pure venom.
Charlie frowned up at her, shaking his head. "I don't believe you Laura. You know, I was just talking to Clay about you the other day. I thought maybe the two of you would hook up, but now, I see that will never happen, Laura, and I see why. Good day."
Laura's brows drew together. "You never answered, so I suppose that's his child too! I have every right to hate Indians, Charlie. My mother was killed by one, if you remember. I will have nothing to do with them, and I cannot forgive them."
"All Indians didn't kill your mother. Just one. And it's time to put the hate away Laura. Forgiveness doesn't help them, it helps you. I'm sorry you still feel such animosity toward them Laura. It's been a long time now." Charlie stared her in the eye, "But as far as Clay is concerned. I never thought it was a question needing an answer. And if the tongues wag in town, I'
ll know who's responsible for it. But just for your information, Clay never laid eyes on that woman before yesterday."
"I'll just bet he hasn't!" she whipped her horses out of the yard.
He watched her whip the horse several times and shook his head. "Boy, was I ever wrong about her."
Chapter Five
Standing inside the house, Willa looked at Clay, who was staring out at the prairie. It wasn't often she got the chance to look at him without him seeing her.
Clay was a handsome man, probably in his late twenties, with long burnished red hair and dark blue eyes. He was built well, with strong shoulders, a tapering waist and lean hips, long legs and he had a stubborn set to his chin, she decided. If truth were told, she was drawn to him, but she could never voice that attraction, it would not be right. These men had been good to her and she appreciated it, but she had no right looking at Clay like this. Still, living here, she had some purpose and a chance for her child to learn, for that reason she would stay. She wanted that chance as that was what her father died for. The fact that he would be buried here was another reason for staying.
"I did not mean to bring you trouble."
"No trouble Willa." He glanced at her over his shoulder.
"I think there will be. That woman loves you and thinks the wrong things of me. I am sorry for her. I will leave if you like. I only ask that you see to my father's grave."
"No need to leave either. People will make up their own minds," He glanced at her and sent her an understanding smile, "and you'll just have to get use to that. Look, it won't matter where you go, it would be the same. It takes a long time for some to learn how to forgive. The Indians killed Laura's mother. I think something died inside her when that happened as she has nursed a bitterness that won't go away. Many people have."
"Yes, I have seen this in my people too."
"And Laura doesn't know the meaning of love. If she loves anyone, it's herself. You are welcome here, and as my father says, we need you."
"Then I will stay. It may sound strange to you, but I wish to be near where my father is buried. I may never see my mother's place again, but at least I am close to him now. Still, I wanted to know for sure that you are sure about this."
He turned his attention on her now. "Are you a Christian, Willa?"
"I believe in your God, if that is what you ask. I went to missionary school, where a priest taught. Yes, I believe there is only one God, as my father did." She said softly. "And that his son saved us from our sins. My mother believed it too. She said my father would not contemplate anything less of her."