The Return Chapter 3
Thoughts of Yesteryear
It was Spring, 1860. A year before succession but the talks were there. The rumours were flying and every political candidate and businessman had their own opinions about things. Shane had traveled North to Kentucky to purchase some horses for the farm his family had bought near Drakes Plantation. He was new to the area, and Drake Sturgill was kind enough to show his family around, lending them advice on what land was good for farming and what was more fertile for retail crops.
He rode over that sunny Saturday only to find a woman in riding trousers! She was dressed just like a man save for the red ribbon in her long hair. Although he wasn’t as conservative as some of his family and friends he was taken aback on this attire and quite quickly found that his sound observation was not reciprocated.
She stood there next to her horse, a black stallion only heard of in myths and legends. Her hair had been pulled back from her face, tied with a long red silk ribbon. Her blouse was tight on her body accentuating her figure, as the first two top buttons were undone, showing her cleavage. She was bent down and then back up, down again adjusting the straps to the western style saddle that no respectable woman would be seen riding in these parts. Her pants were tight, showing off her slim legs and her very noticeable posterior. He sat there on his horse in stunned silence watching her expertise with this fine animal as a bulge grew in his own pants. He didn’t realize the sweat that was forming on his brow or how his mouth suddenly became dry.
Reigne knew he was there. She never let on. She attended to Death, checking the shoes, straps and securing the saddle. She had no idea who the stranger was, and frankly didn’t care. He was no doubt there for another one of her Grandpa’s land deals. That would be the only reason a man would be here this early. It was a beautiful day and she had wanted to ride for a while. Grandma’s parties would start soon enough, and she knew then she wouldn’t have time to ride, wade in the river, plant trees in the orchard with Grandpa, or anything else. Shane cleared his throat. Loudly. No response. He got down from his horse. Still no response. He held the reigns in one hand while he walked toward her, Solomon in tow, wanting to graze as he stepped. Still no response. Was she deaf? He began to wonder. He came up from behind her, tapped her on her shoulder and she spun around like a top.
“What the bloody hell are ye wantin’?” she spouted at him, as he almost thought she’d pull the crop out of its’ resting holster on her horse and whip him with it.
“I…well…” he cleared his throat this time for real. “I..uh..well..” he looked down at the ground. What is wrong with me, he thought. She’s a tadpole this one, why was he acting like a love struck cheil!
He stood up even straighter. “Aye, Sorry tae be a bortha but Ah was wonderin' wa ur ye dressed 'at way?” he timidly inquired.
She stared at him with those azure blue eyes with flecks of gold that floated like rays of stars in the darkened sky.
“What do you mean WHY am I dressed this way?” she took a step toward him, he a step back automatically just in case she started to throw a jab.
“I.. I.. Yer dressed lach a...lack ahn amadan." .”
With that, she lost it. Completely. She wasn’t for sure what he was actually trying to say but she knew from her Grandpas words that the last one wasn’t a nice one. She picked up a rather large rock in the yard and tossed it at him hitting him square in his left knee. He fell, nursing his knee as she stood there shocked he thought maybe of her actions, or maybe of his falling. He immediately started to play it up worse than what it was. One thing was for sure, she didn’t throw like a girl, she hit him right on his kneecap. That was definitely going to leave a mark. He lay there moaning and groaning as she came ever closer to him.
“Mister, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to..it was an accident..” Not really, she thought, as she was actually aiming for his crotch but thought better and decided to take him down with a knee shot. Even without her slingshot, she was a good throw. He moaned again, wincing as he ‘tried’ to get up, only to fall back down on his back, holding his bruised knee. Solomon had ignored him, grazing in the front part of the yard near the other horse standing still, intent on the succulent new grass blades that tasted like Heaven. She knelt down beside him, at a loss for words. Great. This is just great. She’s now injured someone, her Grandpa was going to put her in her room and not let her ride and this man started it all!!
“Okay listen, I didn’t hit you that hard come on, get up. Stop acting like such a baby.” She went to help him up, reaching him her hand only to be pulled down next to him, as he laughed at her for the fall. She hit him this time right in the shoulder as she quickly retrieved her composure enough to scramble up and dust herself off as he lay there laughing. She was livid at this point. “What the hell is your issue man? And are you lost or what? Did you NEED something? Are you here to see someone about something? WHAT?!” she yelled.
He got up, brushed his backside off and rubbed his knee again. He held his hands out in front of him in surrender to this hellion, trying yet again to get the words out, “Aye, I be looking for Drake Sturgill.” Shane finally got out.
She was still staring him down. Not letting this go she inquired , “Then why didn’t you say so in the first place instead of name calling me!”
Shane took a step closer, thought better and backed up. “I apologize. It’s just that I have never seen a young woman in a pair of trews before. I dinnea mean to say you looked like an idiot.”
She again stared at him. Moreover, glared at him. Who the bloody hell did he think he was calling her an idiot for wearing pants?
“Just let me tell you something Mister! I am NOT an idiot! I wear pants all the time! That’s what we do here in the South! Especially if we ride! And I am NOT your ordinary Southern Belle who sits her ass on the veranda all day sippin’ tea and fanning herself waiting for someone to come and spark her!”
Incredulous. Her speech. That accent. No decent woman in their right mind would ever talk to a man that way. Okay maybe decent wasn’t the right word. No well brought up young woman would dare speak to a gentleman that way. After all, weren’t the ladies in the South raised to be genteel?
“Uhm. What does that mean?” Maybe he could distract her.
“What does what mean?” Reigne still had fire in her eyes and Shane had no clue as to how to put it out.
“Spark? “
She let out a grin, not meaning to he was sure. “Well, it means you know, come see a girl. Calling on her. Sitting with her and making conversation. “ This man surely isn’t from around here, she thought. His accent was like Grandpas so he must be from Scotland. She decided to turn her temper down a notch and see how far this could go.
“I’m sorry Mister…” she started to say
He interrupted her, extending his gloved hand “Nichols. Shane.”
“I’m sorry Mister Shane.”
He began to laugh. “Let me start over. My name is Shane Nichols. And you can call me plain Shane.”
Her face started to feel hot. She was blushing. Her mouth was dry, and this was getting very out of hand.
She took a deep breath. “I apologize for my behavior Shane, my grandma and grandpa did not raise me to be that impolite, rude or immature. You took me by surprise, and not knowing you from Adam, I retaliated by reverting back to my uncouth ways.”
“Well then. Apology accepted. And do forgive me for calling you a name.”
She smiled. “Oh. I will forgive. But I will not forget. “
She turned, ran up the steps of the house to the open doors and yelled for Tommy John to go fetch her Grandpa. She came bounding back down the steps and smiled at him, going over to pet his horse who was grazing on the grass near Death.
Shane walked over to pet him as well, and watched as she reached into her bag on her horse to bring out a carrot to feed the both of them.
“So you like to ride?” He said, trying not to act so nervous. She was just a bairn of all things. Not even fully grown. Why did she affect him in this way?
“I do. My grandparents taught me, especially my Grandpa. “
“Your parents. Are they not living?”
She paused before answering. Yes, they were living, but their plans in this lifetime did not include toting around a small child everywhere they were going. She knew from the time she was born, that she was the product of an arranged marriage between two warring clans in the homeland. Her mother and father marrying brought peace. It also brought her into this world. They did not love each other and thus went their own ways still married but living separate lives. She was loved by her mother’s parents. When they decided to move back to the Georgia Territory from the Highlands, they knew she was to go with them.
“They…they have their own lives to lead.” She said quietly. She had noticed that his Scottish brogue had lightened up somewhat and he was sounding as if he belonged around here than in the Highlands.
“Where are you from? Around here or somewhere else? I’ve not seen you around these parts.” She could have hit herself at that. Too many questions in one sentence Reigne. Blast it all, slow down!
“I lived in Dungannon for a very long time before moving to the States. My family moved here recently. We lived in New Orleans for a while. You could say…my family travels a bit.”
She smiled brightly. “Well I’m sure glad you’re here now!” She clamped her hand over her mouth, turned and ran up the stairs and disappeared into the large house.
Shane shook his head. Funny funny girl, he thought. Strange and funny.
Drake Sturgill, almost being ran over by his rambunctious granddaughter walked out toward the tall young man smiling.
“I see you’ve met our Reigne.” He shook hands with him, showing him up to the veranda where Tommy John had placed a large tray with tea and glasses.
“Yes. And I hope…to see more of her as well.” Shane said, the last part disappearing under his breath.
The older man poured the refreshing elixir, looking around to see if anyone was watching, pulled out a flask and added a touch of whisky to both glasses. Shane smiled. This man was whom he wished he could have met long ago. He was someone Shane saw as a father figure. Kind loving and compassionate to his employees, a gentle soul to his family and a wonderful mentor to those who wanted to learn.
“Has your family settled in now?” Drake inquired of him.
“Aye. I think my mother loves it here. Better than in New Orleans. Too much to be going on there and too many questions that got asked after a while.” Shane drank deep of the tea, enjoying the edge that the Scottish whisky had given it.
Drake understood. It was always better of ‘their kind’ to live a life of solitude, away from the crowds of the city. Too many questions are asked when year after year you appeared the same. Around these parts though, no one took notice. Everyone seemed to take care of each other. The small hamlet of Ross Point was family. If you were not kin by blood, you became kin by heart. The citizens took care to protect those who found their way here. This had been home now for years. He had lived here in this area before any other white man had heard of Chief John Ross or knew of the Cherokee tribe who made their home here. He was there for the marriage of Daniel Ross’s marriage to Mollie McDonald. He was there sadly for the removal of all that was sacred to them. Yes, a long life he had forged out in this wilderness but he loved each moment of it, as it reminded him so much of his home. He was blessed and he wanted this young man to be blessed as well.
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Years later, Reigne would bring their first meeting up. It was just a fuss, but it was brought up and she had learned a few Scottish names to call him as well. Yes. It may have taken her a couple of decades after their initial meeting, but it always came back to haunt him one way or another.
He smiled at the reminiscing. He missed being here. He missed her. It had been a while, and he knew that he needed to tell her why. The storm was still raging. Lightening flashed, thunder rolled. A tree limb crashed down from the tall oaks that stood near the house for shade during the summer. Reigne jumped and let out a small scream. He slid from the couch, going over to her, bending on his knees to hold her in his arms once again.
Her hair was the fragrance of fresh lemon and jasmine. Her skin as soft as a calm black velvet night. She didn’t resist this time. Her arms flung around him holding him tight to her as her tears began to fall.
His throat was tight, constricting and beginning to hurt. He held back his emotions as he did so many times before, but he finally found his voice.
Soothing it was to her ears his words that slowly came from his soul. “ Reigne. I would never die for anyone, but I would take a thousand lives just to be by your side one more night…”
“Do you understand what I have just said?” His words were imploring, begging to be comprehended.
Through her tears, through the hurt that she had endured while he was away, she understood. She could only nod in recognition to his plea. “Then we shall begin again?” He whispered in her ear as his kisses fell upon her tear stained cheeks. He found her lips, licking them before kissing her .
