"I was ten, I found her. I tried to help her, but I couldn't save her. Because of it, I hate Indians, all Indians, including you and your child. To think Clay would have you here, sickens me. He knows how I feel about Indians."
"I can understand your sorrow and your pain. My mother died from a white man's disease, smallpox. I could not save her, many others died along with her. The Indians do not have any resistance to the white man's disease. But it is certainly not the white man's fault. My people blamed the whites for bringing such a disease to this land. So, I understand where hate comes from, but when so many die in wars you begin to realize that the hate only breeds more hate. I am here only to do the cooking and cleaning."
"I'm sorry about your mother too, but it can't compare to someone deliberately killing you. If you don't leave on your own, I will see to it that you are miserable. You will have no peace here. You don't belong here." Laura shouted. "And you're going to learn that very quickly."
Willa took Elan into her arms and went toward the house. "I am sorry for you Miss Laura." She whispered as she passed her. "I mean you no harm, no harm at all."
"Where are you going?"
"To cook the noon meal, of course."
"I'm talking to you."
"I think you are through talking to me. I understand what you are saying, but it is something I cannot repair. Many have died between our peoples. For many years, but now there is peace. Do you not want that peace?"
"Peace? After all these years of killing, you think we can have a peace between our peoples?"
"Is it not better than war and more death?"
When Willa went inside, she seemed to come apart, Willa heard her sobs but after regaining her dignity, she left.
Laura whipped her buggy so hard the harness on the horse nearly broke.
Willa did not go see about her. Instead she cried inside at the hateful words. But she would not tell Clay or Charlie of her visit. It was wasted words; words of hate and it was something she knew she had to fight. This woman's mind was warped from a death she could not prevent. She felt sorry for her. This was a battle that Willa would see many times in her life, and she knew she must fight it, inside.
Despite the threat that lay between her and Laura, Willa went on.
Weeks passed and life was good for a while.
Willa had grown closer to both men, but she kept her heart a secret. For every day she felt a closeness toward Clay that was hard to disguise. Laura was right, there was no future here or anywhere else for that matter. She had to face that herself.
But leaving would bring her a sorrow she wasn't sure she could face. Her feelings for Clay were so different. She had grown to respect him, as he was a very good man, a hard worker and he loved his father dearly. He was the kind of man she wished she could have feelings for, but she knew it would only bring him trouble and as long as she kept her place, everything might work out well here. She hoped it would. If she could remain distant with Clay, maybe Laura would see in time that there was nothing there and not be so hostile toward her. But could she do that? Because despite what she wanted, there was something for Clay in her heart and she knew it.
It was hard to balance the feelings she knew were growing.
She found herself watching Clay as he worked. During the middle of the day he would often take his shirt off and work, splitting firewood, and making planks for the room they were adding on. Her eyes would follow him, admiring his build. Her finger often itched to touch that solid chest, kiss that stubborn cheek, and it had to be heaven to be wrapped in arms like his.
It was hard enough facing the physical attraction; she had come to admire him in other ways too. Especially his love for his father, his gentleness with her son, and sometimes the look in his eyes when he sought her out.
How could one live with someone without appreciating the good in them?
When a neighbor stopped by to buy some hay, Clay was always the one to load it for them and give a fair price for it. When anyone needed water, Clay gave it freely without thought.
She was overcome with the way her heartbeat drummed when he was around. How could she stop this attraction? Clay didn't invite these feelings; it came from within her. It was up to her to squash it. She must not ruin her life here. For what would she face if she left?
Clay did not flirt or cause those feeling within her, it was just there. And it was up to her not to let on how she felt.
Willa worked hard every day, she cooked, tended the garden and helped feed the animals. She loved animals, all of them. She would teach Elan to love them too.
She would take Elan out of his cradle and let him touch the horses. He would smile and his little eyes would light up.
Elan loved it here, and even his heart was taken by Charlie and Clay.
One day she was going in the house and she heard Clay talking to Elan. Telling him a story and Elan was on the floor staring up at him, his little eyes alight. It warmed her that Clay liked her son too.
But not long after Laura's visit, Charlie developed a deep cough and several days he ran a high fever. It came on rather suddenly, and Willa began preparing all kinds of mixtures for him to take. Charlie took them all, but the cough wouldn't go away. He wouldn't rest, insisting he had chores to do. Finally, one day he keeled over in the pasture, and Clay carried him to the house.
Willa saw him coming and made the bed for Charlie. "He's pretty sick, Willa." Clay told her as she helped him lay him down.