Beyond the Quiet Hills Read Online Free Page A

meals.
    Sequatchie was standing in the middle of the room dressed in full Cherokee chief regalia. At forty years old, this tall Cherokee had smooth bronze skin and dark eyes that revealed nothing unless he chose to let them do so. He had the typical square jaw and high cheekbones of his race. His face was long, but he had a broad forehead and an aquiline nose. His head was bald except for the topknot that hung down his back. The hair itself was jet black, and now there was a light of humor in his obsidian eyes as he studied Hawk Spencer, who was getting dressed.
    Sequatchie had been Hawk’s teacher in the wilderness, and now as he watched the tall man pulling off his buckskins and holding up the white shirt as if it were some strange, rather dangerous object, Sequatchie thought of how the two of them had become blood brothers. Sequatchie had saved Hawk’s life, nursing him back to health with the aid of his mother, Awenasa, and he had never regretted it.
    Andrew MacNeal stood with his back to the wall, also watching Spencer. “I’ve never seen you in a suit before, Hawk,” he said.
    â€œWell, you won’t see much when you do.”
    Hawk slipped on the white shirt and then pulled on a pair of black broadcloth trousers. He picked up a string tie and stood before the small mirror and struggled to make it presentable. “I don’t see why a man has to wear this outfit to get married.”
    â€œWhy don’t you just wear your buckskins?” Sequatchie asked. “It’s your wedding.”
    â€œNo, it’s not. As far as weddings are concerned, as I’ve told Andy, a man doesn’t have a great deal to say about it.”
    He finally completed tying the tie just as the door opened and three men walked in. The room seemed very small then as Hawk stepped back to make room for them. One of them was Paul Anderson, his childhood friend, who had followed him from Williamsburg. At no more than five ten, Anderson was the smallest man in the cabin, with sandy brown hair and light blue-green eyes. Now he said, with a mischievous sparkle in his eye, “I thought you would have run away before this, Hawk.”
    â€œNow, don’t you start on me, Paul!” Hawk warned.
    â€œAll bridegrooms are fair game.”
    The speaker was George Stevens, a tall man, over six two, with gray eyes and reddish hair turning gray at the temples. He had come to Watauga as part of the Regulators who had left North Carolina, and he, along with his wife, Deborah, and their daughter, Abigail, had become close friends with the MacNeals and with Hawk.
    â€œI thought you’d be on my side, George,” Hawk said.
    William Bean laughed aloud. A stocky man with a look of rough durability, Bean had founded the settlement at Watauga. Elizabeth had stayed with the Beans while Hawk had built the cabin, and now William said with a glint of humor in his gray eyes, “A bridegroom don’t have any friends, boy.”
    Paul Anderson could see the respect that this leader of the settlement had for Hawk Spencer and was glad of it. “You look very nice, Hawk. I’d forgotten how you looked in regular clothes.”
    â€œI’m doing it to please Elizabeth. It’s not my idea.”
    A touch of amusement illuminated the ebony eyes of Sequatchie, although he did not smile. “Cherokee women try to please the men,” he intoned. “Not the other way around.”
    All the men laughed, and Paul said easily, “Well, I think people are basically the same everywhere.”
    â€œI’m glad we have a minister here to do the marrying.” William Bean nodded toward Paul. “What we need is a church and a full-time preacher.”
    Paul shook his head and smiled briefly. He had heard this argument before. Both Bean and Stevens had tried to get him to stay and form a church, but he had felt the need to go with Sequatchie to preach to the Cherokee. Now he said, “Let’s not