Read Online Somewhere to Dream (Berkley Sensation) by Genevieve Graham - Free Book Online
Authors: Genevieve Graham
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despite what they might believe, I knew they weren’t better or worse than anyone else. They were human. But knowing what was coming for this man made me sick. My throat tightened as I stared at his sleeping form.
The Cherokee were human. White men were human. And yet they were so dramatically different. Their hatred was a living thing, and each wanted nothing less than to annihilate the other.
Somewhere in the middle was me. I straddled both races, terrified to plant one foot permanently in either camp. This man slumped before me was trapped between worlds as well, but he didn’t have to choose one or the other. He knew he was white all the way through. He knew to hate the Cherokee.
I didn’t know who I was anymore. I had once been a quiet middle sister with a skill at sewing. Nothing more than that. I thought of myself as Maggie and Ruth’s sister, not my own person, and I was happy that way. I liked to hover behind others like a shadow, watching but silent. There was nothing special about me. Nothing except for the dreams I despised and ignored.
This man’s presence reminded me that I was a part of two separate worlds, but a member of neither. I was alone. I used to want that. Then everything changed and being alone turned into being lost. Now I wanted, more than anything else, to be found.
Kokila’s soft hand touched mine, and I turned toward her. Her eyes were dark, liquid with mirrored pain. She didn’t have to say a word. Her gaze, deep with the gentle soul of the Cherokee, loving and loyal and beautiful, apologized on behalf of all of them.
It is something that must be done,
said her black eyes. I looked away and tried to remember the caring, healing hands, the songs the women had sung to rid my sleep of nightmares, the lessons Wah-Li had taught me that had come close to freeing me from myself. Remembering their generosity of spirit reminded me of the creatures from whom Maggie and I had been rescued. I had steadfastly refused to remember those monsters or that day again, but just the thought of them helped me to see the prisoner as a white man again. That made it much easier for me to nod and back away from the tent.
In the morning, excitement was as thick as the shrieks of cicadas in the air. Soquili and the others applied fresh war paint and bounced around one another, grinning with anticipation. The women were all outside, the children as well, and their laughter should have lightened my spirit.
Instead, I felt sick. While the preparations were getting under way, the guest of honour sat trembling in his tent, unaware he was the reason for all this noise. I couldn’t stand it. I stomped back to his tent and stood face-to-face with the warrior on duty.
“I’m going in.”
“You are not allowed.”
I narrowed my eyes and tried to give my best impression of an angry Cherokee wife. “Do you have any idea of who I am to this man? It is not your place to keep me away.”
Uncertainty flickered. “Only for a moment,” he said, and I ducked inside.
The prisoner’s eyes flew open, then narrowed with suspicion.
“I’m not allowed to be here,” I said quickly. He didn’t reply, only watched and waited. “But I thought you should know that you are to be tested this morning.”
He closed his eyes and exhaled loudly through his nose, which was still slightly swollen. Something that might have been resignation sagged across his shoulders. I frowned, then knelt on the dirt across from him.
“That doesn’t mean they’ll kill you. In fact, they’ll probably do just about everything
but
kill you.”
He kept his eyes closed. “So I’ll just wish I was dead,” he muttered.
I couldn’t argue with that. “Probably. You just have to get through them all. They won’t let you die, I don’t think. They definitely won’t let you escape, though.”
The golden eyes opened slightly and stared at me. His voice stayed low. “So what’s the point? Why are you here? Just to bring me the good
The Cherokee were human. White men were human. And yet they were so dramatically different. Their hatred was a living thing, and each wanted nothing less than to annihilate the other.
Somewhere in the middle was me. I straddled both races, terrified to plant one foot permanently in either camp. This man slumped before me was trapped between worlds as well, but he didn’t have to choose one or the other. He knew he was white all the way through. He knew to hate the Cherokee.
I didn’t know who I was anymore. I had once been a quiet middle sister with a skill at sewing. Nothing more than that. I thought of myself as Maggie and Ruth’s sister, not my own person, and I was happy that way. I liked to hover behind others like a shadow, watching but silent. There was nothing special about me. Nothing except for the dreams I despised and ignored.
This man’s presence reminded me that I was a part of two separate worlds, but a member of neither. I was alone. I used to want that. Then everything changed and being alone turned into being lost. Now I wanted, more than anything else, to be found.
Kokila’s soft hand touched mine, and I turned toward her. Her eyes were dark, liquid with mirrored pain. She didn’t have to say a word. Her gaze, deep with the gentle soul of the Cherokee, loving and loyal and beautiful, apologized on behalf of all of them.
It is something that must be done,
said her black eyes. I looked away and tried to remember the caring, healing hands, the songs the women had sung to rid my sleep of nightmares, the lessons Wah-Li had taught me that had come close to freeing me from myself. Remembering their generosity of spirit reminded me of the creatures from whom Maggie and I had been rescued. I had steadfastly refused to remember those monsters or that day again, but just the thought of them helped me to see the prisoner as a white man again. That made it much easier for me to nod and back away from the tent.
In the morning, excitement was as thick as the shrieks of cicadas in the air. Soquili and the others applied fresh war paint and bounced around one another, grinning with anticipation. The women were all outside, the children as well, and their laughter should have lightened my spirit.
Instead, I felt sick. While the preparations were getting under way, the guest of honour sat trembling in his tent, unaware he was the reason for all this noise. I couldn’t stand it. I stomped back to his tent and stood face-to-face with the warrior on duty.
“I’m going in.”
“You are not allowed.”
I narrowed my eyes and tried to give my best impression of an angry Cherokee wife. “Do you have any idea of who I am to this man? It is not your place to keep me away.”
Uncertainty flickered. “Only for a moment,” he said, and I ducked inside.
The prisoner’s eyes flew open, then narrowed with suspicion.
“I’m not allowed to be here,” I said quickly. He didn’t reply, only watched and waited. “But I thought you should know that you are to be tested this morning.”
He closed his eyes and exhaled loudly through his nose, which was still slightly swollen. Something that might have been resignation sagged across his shoulders. I frowned, then knelt on the dirt across from him.
“That doesn’t mean they’ll kill you. In fact, they’ll probably do just about everything
but
kill you.”
He kept his eyes closed. “So I’ll just wish I was dead,” he muttered.
I couldn’t argue with that. “Probably. You just have to get through them all. They won’t let you die, I don’t think. They definitely won’t let you escape, though.”
The golden eyes opened slightly and stared at me. His voice stayed low. “So what’s the point? Why are you here? Just to bring me the good
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