Legacies Read Free Page B

over at her reaction to his proposal. He hadn't intended to take her home with him, but somehow the words flowed effortlessly from his mouth—and they seemed so right.
    "It's too soon to be talking about marriage. You know my mother would never give her consent if I were to go West so suddenly."
    "Because I am Cherokee."
    "Because you are a Stuart. She has never made a secret of her feelings toward your family."  
    "No, she hasn't."
    "Then you see how impossible it is right now. In time—"  
    "I'm leaving in the morning."
    "You're not being reasonable, Lije," she said angrily. "You won't listen to anything I say. It's all been so wonderful. Why do you have to ruin it like this?"
    "Maybe you should have listened to your mother when she warned you a long time ago to stay away from me," he suggested in a cold, hard voice, his hurt concealed by his rising temper.
    Diane retaliated in kind. "Perhaps I should have!"
    Lije looked at her another long second, then turned and walked off into the night. Diane watched him for a moment, anger washing over her in waves even as tears stung her eyes. But her pride wouldn't let her run after him. He would return. She was sure of it.
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    2
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    Cherokee Nation, Indian Territory
    July I860
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    Lije lifted the bay into a canter. There had been few opportunities to ride back East. It felt good to have a horse between his legs again, hooves pounding clay-red dirt, air rushing over his face, and the trail open before him.
    The well-worn road curled into a wooded section thick with oak, persimmon, hickory, and cedar trees, their branches arching to create a leafy canopy. Beyond the reach of the sun's hot glare, the air was cooler, filled with the rustles and stirrings of creatures moving about in the heavy growth. He rode on, the enduring wildness of the land flowing around him, getting into his bones and his mind.
    All of it was familiar to him, the old sights, the old sounds, the old smells. After four years he had half-expected to return a stranger in his own land. Instead, it was almost as if he had never left.
    The discovery brought a smile to his lips. He glanced back at the trailing black servant Ike. "Not much farther to Oak Hill from here."
    "Just up the road a piece," Ike confirmed, riding up to draw level with Lije. They had exchanged no more than a dozen words since leaving the riverboat landing. But, as Ike recalled, Master Lije had never been the kind who liked the sound of his own voice. He had always let his actions speak for him and did more thinking than talking. But Ike's curiosity was eating away at him. He took the opening to satisfy it. "What was it like up North?"
    "Not much different from here. A lot of trees and mountains and farmlands. The winters were longer and colder, the towns were bigger. More buildings, more people." He glanced sideways at Ike, a dancing twinkle in his eyes. "Alot more people."
    Ike nodded, the answer echoing much of what he had already heard. "My mother told me she had never seen so many people living in one place in her whole life than she did that time she went up North with your folks. Master Blade gave my folks a pass to see some of the sights while they were in Philadelphia. Did you go to Philadelphia while you were in the North?"
    "I only passed through it."
    "Then you never got to see the bell they got there." Ike's disappointment was brief, replaced by memories of all the stories his mother had told him about it. Stories that he'd had her repeat to him again and again. "People are calling it the Liberty Bell. The writing on it says 'Proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all inhabitants thereof.' That's from Leviticus, in the Bible." Ike hesitated, then asked what he most wanted to know. "Did you see any free men of color when you were in the North?"
    "Very few." With eyes narrowed, Lije studied the Negro he had played with as a child. Liberty. Free men of color. Those words and the trace of