Bouquet for Iris (11 page)

“Do you mean to tell me that you came barging into my home and disturbed my wife and guests because the mayor called a special council meeting?” Lance frowned at Adam. “I ought to march you out of here right now.”

Adam pointed a finger at Iris. “I think his special meeting had something to do with her employer. I have it on good authority that he’s got a resolution ordering the immediate removal of Mr. Wayha Spencer and his family from their home and lands on this side of the river.”

Iris felt her jaw drop. Her gaze went to the cowering mayor. “Is that true?”

Mayor Pierce shook his head and mopped his damp brow with one of Camie’s monogrammed napkins. “Of course not! This man is jumping to conclusions based on idle speculation and gossip.”

Iris turned back to Adam and spread her hands in a placating gesture. “This is obviously a misunderstanding.”

Adam made a disgusted sound. “You’re too naive and trusting for your own good.” He reached for Mayor Pierce’s shirtfront.

Nathan grabbed his hand and pulled it back. “Don’t even think about touching my uncle.”

“I think we’ve heard enough, Mr. Stuart.” Lance stepped forward and stared at Adam. “Mayor Pierce has denied your charges, so I would appreciate it if you’d leave.”

A pan of frying chicken would have sizzled less than the tension in the room. Iris felt herself caught by Adam’s tortured gaze. Some part of her noticed that his eyes held a green fire she’d never noticed before. She’d thought his eyes were brown, but looking into their depths, she made the discovery that the man’s eyes were hazel—with enough highlights to make them appear as green as grass when he was angry.

She stared at him, for once thankful for her tall frame. He seemed to be begging her to take his part, but she couldn’t do that. He had to be wrong about Mayor Pierce. Why else would he deny everything? He had to know if it was true they would all find out at the next official council meeting.

A desire came over her to smile at Mr. Stuart, offer him some comfort, however small. But it was an impossible, dim-witted idea. They were in her friend’s dining room, and the man had barged in uninvited.

She watched as Lance escorted him back to the front door. Their words were muffled by the closed door of the dining room, but she could still make out Adam Stuart’s angry tones in stark contrast to the calm, reasonable comments being offered by Lance.

“Shall we continue our meal?” Camie sat down and began passing the plates of food as though the recent scene had not happened.

Nathan looked toward the doorway, but he was apparently reluctant to leave his uncle alone. Iris wondered if he thought she or Camie was a threat to the cowardly mayor. But then she grew ashamed at her thought. Knowing how kind Nathan was, he’d probably decided to stay behind so he could protect her and Camie in case Adam’s visit was a ruse to cover some nefarious plot.

“He’s gotten downright dangerous since the treaty signing.” Mayor Pierce pulled on his collar. “We are going to have to lock him up one of these days.”

“Well, it is a shame what happened to him that night.” Nathan turned to Iris to explain. “He spoke out against the Ridge party, who signed the treaty at New Echota. He left and was on his way back here when he was attacked and left for dead in the middle of nowhere. A lot of men wouldn’t have survived, but Adam found cover and managed to get himself back here alive. The injuries he suffered are what cause him to limp. When he came back, he got the council to hire him. He’s been attending their meetings to record the minutes and to offer legal advice when he’s asked to. Most of the council seems satisfied with his work.” Nathan looked at his uncle, who at least had the grace to duck his head.

Iris couldn’t help but admire Nathan even more as he defended the man whom he had every reason to dislike. She couldn’t imagine being so charitable to anyone who tried to attack her relatives. The younger Mr. Pierce was a truly fine Christian who believed in turning the other cheek in the most trying of circumstances.

Quite the opposite of Adam Stuart. What right did he have to come bursting in on her friends? And how dare he call her naive? She had a lot of experience. Hadn’t she traveled across Tennessee and been left alone in the middle of the night without any way to get to the Sherers’ home? Perhaps she’d not been attacked and left for dead, but that didn’t mean she was devoid of common sense.

Camie excused herself to go check on the girls and returned with a relieved smile that they had somehow slept through the commotion.

Lance returned a moment later and apologized to them for the disruption before sitting down to continue his dinner as though nothing untoward had happened.

Nathan smoothed the napkin in his lap. “I wonder why Adam Stuart came barging in here.”

“He seemed to believe there will be an attempt to take Wayha Spencer’s land.” Lance shook his head.

“But how can that be?” asked Camie. “You showed me his origi—”

A warning shake of her husband’s head stopped Camie midsentence.

Mayor Pierce shoveled food into his mouth until there wasn’t a morsel left on his plate before pushing back from the table. “A fine meal, Mrs. Sherer. Please excuse me for a moment.”

They continued discussing Adam Stuart’s interruption and wild accusations as they lingered over Camie’s delicious food.

Iris wasn’t sure how much time passed before she realized Nathan’s uncle had not yet returned. Had the man been grabbed by the belligerent Mr. Stuart? The thought had barely formed when Mayor Pierce pushed open the dining room door and rejoined them.

Nathan patted his stomach and sighed. “Everything was delicious.”

“I’m glad you were able to enjoy the meal in spite of the interruption.” Camie’s smile was radiant.

“Camie is a wonderful cook.” Lance’s voice was as warm as his glance.

Iris added her compliments to those of the men. She was so proud of her friend’s abilities. It was obvious Camie was thriving here.

Too bad Adam Stuart was not. His accusations had been wild and unfounded. She would not let him cast a pall on her enjoyment of the evening. Instead she would concentrate on Nathan Pierce’s admirable qualities.

The rest of the evening passed quickly. Iris and Camie checked on the girls once more while the men enjoyed a lively discussion about the Texas war for independence from the Mexicans. All in all, it was a pleasant evening. Iris hoped she would one day be able to be such an accomplished hostess.

Iris settled herself in the wagon next to Camie before waving good-bye to June and Anna, who were clinging to Josephine’s skirts. She would miss them, but Mr. Spencer had insisted they stay with him to avoid overcrowding at the Millers’ home.

Lance drove to the ferryman’s hut and woke him. While he arranged for their transport across the river, Iris and Camie played with Erin and Emily to keep them from fussing. A white mist hung over the river, but Iris knew it would disappear as the sun rose.

The ferryman was short and rotund with a knitted cap covering grizzled hair that matched his shaggy beard and mustache. He wore a coat of rabbit fur and long woolen socks that covered his legs all the way up to his knees. He nodded at them and headed down to the river.

Lance climbed back aboard the wagon and guided it onto the wooden raft. It only took a short time to cross the river, but Iris held her breath as she watched the swift water slide under the edge of the ferry. Lance waved to the man as he pulled the wagon back onto solid ground, and they were off on the next leg of their journey.

The sun came up over the eastern hills and brought with it some warmth. Iris found herself dozing as they made slow but steady progress on the muddy roads.

Camie’s voice roused her. “Ma and Pa are going to be so excited to see you, Iris.”

Iris raised an eyebrow. “I imagine they will be much more interested in seeing their granddaughters than the child of their old friends. And rightfully so.” She tickled Erin, laughing along with the girl. “You’re much more interesting than an old maid nanny.”

Lance’s chest seemed to expand a little. “They are special, aren’t they?”

“Yes they are.” Iris rubbed her nose against Erin’s cheek. “Children are a gift from God.”

Camie pulled Emily onto her lap. “That’s true, but I know my parents will be excited to see you, too.”

“We’re about to find out just how much.” Lance turned down a lane and through a wide gate.

A large sign swung between the tall posts.
“BRAINERD
M
ISSION.”
Iris also read aloud the words carved into the bottom half of the sign, “So that I could but gain souls for Christ.”

“It was David Brainerd’s lifelong dream.” Camie referred to the brave missionary whose tireless work had inspired the formation of missions like this one.

“I didn’t realize how large the mission is.” Iris gazed at the extensive grounds dotted with comfortable homes, livestock, and cherry orchards.

As he steered the horses, Lance pointed out the mill perched on the banks of Chickamauga Creek, as well as the main house where the students resided, and the large meetinghouse where they would attend Easter services in a little while.

“Whoa.” He pulled back on the reins in front of a two-story whitewashed cabin.

Iris and Camie began gathering blankets, baskets, and children while Lance secured the horses. Before they could unload all the necessary items, the front door opened and Roman Miller, dressed in black pants and a starched shirt, stepped onto the front porch.

“They’re here,” he called back into the house. He had aged somewhat, which wasn’t surprising as nearly a decade had passed since Iris had last seen the man. Though his hair had turned white and his girth had widened a little, the twinkle in his dark eyes had not changed at all.

Una Miller stepped onto the front porch, wiping her hands on her apron. Her hair was pulled back in a tidy bun and was now liberally streaked with gray. Iris could see crow’s feet bracketing her eyes and mouth as she smiled. It made Iris think of Ma and wonder where her family was spending their Easter Sunday. She shook off the thought. This was no time to get homesick.

Hugs from both Pastor and Mrs. Miller helped to brighten her mood. They were as excited to see her as their own grandchildren. As they went inside, Pastor Miller asked if she was happy at the Spencer home.

“Yes. June and Anna are so sweet and obedient.”

“We would like to enroll them in the school here.” Camie’s mother led the way to the parlor, a chortling Erin in her arms. “But Mr. Spencer is adamant that they will attend school in Daisy.”

Iris wandered around the parlor, admiring several charcoal sketches that decorated the walls. “He is determined for them to be treated the same as white children.”

“I hope he can realize his dream,” said Pastor Miller, “and that he can avoid being removed with the others.” He reached for Emily as she toddled across the room. “You will enjoy having them as neighbors, won’t you, little one?”

“Who is leading the service today?” asked Camie.

“I am.” Her pa shifted Emily to his left arm, pulled out his pocket watch, and squinted at it. “I’d better put on my coat and tie.”

Camie took Emily back. She turned to her husband, who had finished unloading the wagon. “Is there enough room for all of us to ride together?”

“That’s not necessary, Camie,” her ma said. “You know we usually walk to the meetinghouse.”

“But the children—”

“Will be no trouble at all.”

Iris nodded her agreement. After their two-hour trip in the wagon, it would be a relief to walk.

After Camie’s father came back, they gathered their cloaks and set out.

Pastor Miller insisted on carrying one of his granddaughters while his wife took the other. Camie linked one arm through her husband’s and gestured for Iris to walk on her other side.

They greeted several of the other missionary families on their way to the large building where the church services would be held. The missionaries’ children laughed and played with the Indian children, a sight that warmed Iris’s heart. If only President Jackson could see this scene, he might understand there was no need to push for the removal of the Cherokee.

Her gaze rested for a moment on a large black horse whose tall rider stood nearby. Her heart skipped a beat. Surely she must be mistaken. Adam Stuart would not have come out here to stir up more trouble. Yet there he was. She would recognize that rumpled suit anywhere. He turned, and she caught a glimpse of his face, which he had apparently not bothered to shave. The nerve of the man. She would have walked right past him, but Pastor Miller stopped to greet him.

“I’m glad to see you here.”

Adam put his hands in his coat pocket. “I am on my way to the village and thought I would stop in to say hello.”

“You’re just in time for our morning service.” Pastor Miller turned and spotted Iris. “Come over, my dear, and meet the brightest hope of the Cherokee. Adam has been fighting for the rights of the Cherokee in Washington for years, and then he came here to attend the treaty signing at New Echota because Chief Ross had to stay in Washington. He tried to stop that travesty and on the way home was the victim of a brutal Indian attack that nearly killed him.”

Iris was amazed at this interpretation of Adam Stuart’s personality and goals. Had she judged him too harshly? All she’d seen was his surliness. But now his anger made a little more sense. It must have been hard for him to accept defeat. And then to be attacked by the people he was trying to protect …