14
It was to the orchestral music of the violins, the cellos, a double bass, a flute, a clarinet and a few trumpets which greeted Skenan and Abagail as they stepped into the lavishly decorated ballroom. Curtains in the colors of red, blue and white hung from every window. The colors were repeated throughout the ballroom with banners.
For a moment Shenan listened to the beauty of the white man’s songs, the melodies seeming to him to be alive and the instruments to be singing, instead of a string and a bow making the sounds. He had attended a few of the white man’s balls in the past, but, not knowing the dances and not really interested in learning them, he had soon tired of watching, and, partaking of the food offered, he had soon gone his own way.
But tonight was different. Tonight both he and Abagail were to be honored. Looking at Abagail now, he could hardly believe this was the same girl he had rescued only weeks ago. Indeed, as soon as the women in the fort had been informed that she was to be honored, they had begun fussing over her. He had watched as these women, both Oneida and white, had surrounded her and how they had, within three days, dressed her in the white man’s fashions.
He was proud to have her hand upon his arm, although, accustomed to the dress of Oneida young maidens, he was at once overwhelmed by the sight of the low-cut bodice of her forest-green dress. Unused to the style, he could barely keep his glance from her.
Her hair was caught up into an elaborate hairstyle of curls and spirals that fell down to her shoulders. The skirt of the dress was wide, puffy and long, and the waist of the dress was tiny in comparison. And, Abagail looked lovely, almost beyond description.
As for himself, Skenan was dressed in his very best clothing. His shirt was made of soft deerhide; his leggings were fashioned, too, from deerhide. They were skintight and fell to the floor, though they were tied below the knee with an opening in the front of the moccasin. He wore a short buckskin breechcloth beneath his shirt which was tied to a buckskin belt. His coat was made of blue trade cloth, and on his head he wore a cap of panther skin with feathers adorning it at its top.
He recalled he had dressed quickly even though he had donned his best regalia. Slightly nervous, he had trod toward the Millers’ home, where Abagail was currently living. Once there, he had waited for this woman whom he was prepared to marry and to love for the rest of his life, if she would only have him.
But, she had made her wishes known to him earlier, apparently not even considering he might, indeed, desire her to be a part of his family, yes, but not as his sister. His desire was to make her his wife.
Yet, she had been so happy to know she was at last to have a family that he’d not had the heart to tell her he did not wish her to take his sister’s place. Instead, he hoped to make her his wife. The words had been there for him to speak, but he’d been unable to say them, fearing she might not love him as he loved her.
And, if she did not love him in a romantic way—and there was every chance she might not—it would present him with a problem. Loving her as he did, how could he live his life pretending to be something he was not?
He recalled now the moment when he had realized how much he loved her. Although he had always considered her to be one of the most beautiful women he’d ever known, he had not been interested in making either her or any other woman a marital partner.
But then, there on the trail, he had watched her as she had been prepared to fight a bear, had even tried to scare the bear away from him using fire. He recalled watching her bravery, amazed she should try to save his life even if it had meant possibly ending her own.
It had happened then. She was the one.
From that moment onward, he had tried to keep her close to him, going so far as to suggest she become a part of his family…as his sister, of course.
But, despite her obvious wish to gain a family, she had been prepared to remain a servant for several more years, even though she could have run away to his people. No, her sense of the duty, the keeping of one’s word would not permit her to take advantage of becoming a part of a family…his family, even though she wished it.
The moment he’d understood her commitment to the Creator and to His law, he’d fallen even more deeply in love with her. Indeed, in the present moment, most of his thoughts concerned her and how to sway her toward considering him to be her life’s partner.
Yet, she was white. Perhaps she might prefer a husband from within her own society.
But, no, this couldn’t be so; her excitement at realizing she would become a part of his family had been too real, showing she was not in any way prejudiced due to culture or skin color.
Abagail suddenly grabbed hold of his arm, causing him to cease his musings and return to the present moment. She whispered, “I am terribly nervous. What if someone here knows I was once an indentured servant?”
“It will not be. Most, even if they knew the details of your servitude, would not mention it, and those who would take you to task over it, if the person be a man, would have to face me on a field of honor.”
“A field of honor?”
“Nyoh,” he replied, but he did not explain.
“Oh Skenan, you are too good to me. And, so kind are you, I am not certain I can live up to the position of being your sister. But, I will try. I promise you, I will try.”
Skenan smiled, although he was certain there was not a single bit of happiness in his eyes.