“Hello? Is anybody home?” She peeked inside the doorway of the kitchen.
A young woman labored over the huge, black stove, stirring the contents of a large pot. An older woman emptied loaves of bread from the pans onto a work table. They chatted to each another in a tongue foreign to Faith. They jumped at the sound of her voice, turning to face her.
Faith froze in the doorway, staring at the women. She hadn’t expected to find anyone in the kitchen when she arrived and certainly not these women who were obviously relatives, yet Indians. “I hope you don’t mind. We just arrived. I was waiting in the front room, but I smelled your delicious cooking and followed my nose.” She shrugged. “It led me here. I’m Faith Col…Jordan, Reese’s wi…” She held up her left hand, displaying Hannah’s wedding ring. She tried again. “Reese’s wi…” Faith gave up. “Reese’s…outside,” she finished lamely.
The younger woman spoke. “I’m Mary Alexander, Reese’s cous?”
“Cousin,” Faith interrupted, smiling at the smaller, feminine version of the Alexander men. “I met David in Washington, and Mr. Alexander and Sam, today.” Faith knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “There’s quite a family resemblance.” She stepped closer to the stove.
Mary nodded. “This is my mother, Sarah.” She shrugged, in a gesture of apology. “She doesn’t speak English.”
Mary studied Reese’s bride. She was very different from the first woman Reese had chosen. She talked to cover her nervousness, but she didn’t mean to be rude. Her smile was genuine. Her black dress was old and worn, even threadbare in places. Her hair was mussed, and she had dark circles under her eyes, but she didn’t seem to mind. There wasn’t a vain or malicious bone in her body. She was beautiful, on the inside where it mattered, and pretty on the outside as well. But she wasn’t even aware of the beauty shining out of her lovely gray eyes. She would do Reese proud.
“Oh, I see. The language I overheard you speaking was?”
“Cherokee.”
Faith whirled around. “Goodness, Reese, you startled me!” Reese was standing inside the kitchen door. “I thought you were out in the barn with Joy and Brutus.”
“Sam offered to tuck Brutus into his stall for the night. I let him.” Reese rubbed at the bite on his arm. “Brutus seems to like Sam a helluva lot more than he likes me. Joy stayed to help. I came inside to see about you.”
“Me, why?”
“I didn’t realize it was this close to supper until Charlie reminded me. I forgot that Mary and Sarah would be here. I was sure you would walk into the kitchen, find Red Indians cooking supper, and run screaming for help.” His words were sarcastic, cutting.
Faith recoiled. She stared at him, coldly. “I don’t have a problem with Red Indians in the kitchen or anywhere else, but you seem to.” She pulled herself up to her full five-foot height, straightened her spine, and looked him in the eye. “Now, if you will just point me in the direction of my bedroom, I’ll remove my prejudiced self from your noble presence.”
Reese was too stunned by her remarks to say anything. Mary came to her rescue. “Go back to the main room and up the stairs. It’s the last door on the right.”
“Thank you.” Faith remembered her manners, even if Reese had forgotten his. “It’s a pleasure to meet…you both.” Her voice cracked. She turned to stare through Reese. “Please send Joy upstairs as soon as she comes in. She’ll need to wash up.” She pushed back her shoulders and hurried out of the kitchen, through the main room, and up the stairs.
Mary waited until she heard the bedroom door close before she spoke. “You were very cruel to her, Reese.”
“Cruel?” Reese was astonished. “It was no more than she deserved for?”
“Being surprised?” Mary asked softly.
“You saw the expression on her face. She was shocked to find Indian women here.” Reese began to pace the length of the kitchen.
“She was surprised to find anyone in the kitchen cooking a meal for her, just as I would be surprised to return to my home and find someone cooking for me. She didn’t expect it. She didn’t mean to be rude.”
Reese stopped pacing and stared at his cousin. Sweet, docile, even-tempered, Mary was angrily defending a woman she had just met. A woman who wasn’t even Cherokee.
Mary pointed her wooden spoon at him, giving Reese cause to be thankful it wasn’t a carving knife. “Did you tell her about us? Tell her we were here?”
“I told her I had a housekeeper,” Reese defended himself.
“Just as I thought.” Mary said smugly.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you didn’t tell her anything about your family or how we live. It means that you left your new bride in ignorance and expected her to understand. Very typical.”
Reese winced at her words.
But Mary continued. “This is her house now, Reese. According to Cherokee law, the house belongs to the woman. And that woman upstairs has every right to put your shoes outside the front door. You embarrassed her, hurt her feelings in her own kitchen and in the presence of relatives. You were wrong. You should apologize. You need to go up there and make peace with your bride.”
Reese opened his mouth to protest, to tell them Faith wasn’t his real bride, simply a temporary one, that there was no reason for all the fuss, but when he saw the look of grim determination in Mary’s eyes, he thought better of it.