Read Online Tea and Tomahawks by Leanore Elliott, Dahlia DeWinters - Free Book Online

people were not property that they were all taken care of by the Great Spirit?
    After dressing, and slipping her necklaces over her head, she walked past several chicksees, nodding her head in greeting at the other women of the village. Feeding the chickens was one of her least favorite chores, but she hummed the cradle song from last night as she scattered corn feed. Pecking at the ground, the smelly birds clucked around her bare feet, and she brushed her hands on her long skirt before leaving the area.
    She checked in with Shana, the runaway slave that had been so sickly the night before. To her delight, the older woman was sitting up and sipping on the broth made from chicken stew.
    “How are you feeling today?”
    The woman’s dark face broke into a smile. “Miss Mattie, so many thanks for taking care of me and my babies. So happy to be gone from that place. Free. I am free.” Tears ran down her face, and she grabbed Mattie’s hand. “God will bless you, yes, he will bless you.”
    Mattie wiped away tears of her own and squeezed the woman’s hand. Emotion welled in her chest, and she swallowed to keep herself from hysterical tears. She, too, had been saved, set free. Vaguely, she recalled a time when she was in bondage, a slave to a tyrannical husband’s whims. No matter that she had everything, a luxurious house, money, and fancy cars. All of that was dust because she hadn’t been free. “I am already blessed, Shana. Believe that.” She gave the older woman a hug. “Now you keep on getting better.”
    A commotion caught her attention at the edge of the village. Haiola’s group had returned. She patted Shana’s shoulder and walked quickly to the group, looking for her husband. “Haiola!” Mattie threw her arms around him. “I missed you.”
    “Chahiwah…my wife.” He lifted her off the ground and nuzzled his face in her neck. “I am here now.”
     
    ~* * * *~
     
    Richard watched his wife sleep, fingering the horrid twists in her hair. He wanted to grab scissors and hack them off, but he controlled himself. He got up and went into the bathroom and flipped on the light switch, then exited the bathroom by the hall door. Quickly, he made his way to the second-floor landing to wait. He had waited long enough.  Time to put his plan in motion.
    The house groaned in concert with the near hurricane force winds. Cold perspiration tickled his neck, and he swiped at it with an impatient flick of his hand. Unwavering in his mission, he waited in the heavy gloom at the turn of the staircase. The salty fragrance of the ocean made his nostrils twitch, and if he held his breath, the crash of the waves against the shore thundered in his ears.
    When he relaxed his lungs, the breaths came hot and fast, impeding his ability to hear. The old woman was as quiet as a cat when she wanted to be, and he knew he had only one chance.
    There it was, the slight hissing sound of an old hand sliding along the polished wooden banister. The stairs allowed her to mount them in near silence, as if they knew the old bitch needed their cooperation.
    Lise paused to take a breath at the next to last step.
    He stepped forward into the murky light glowing through the small staircase window. “Lise.”
    She glanced up at him, and her face did not register surprise, only annoyance. “You. Get out of my way.”
    Richard shook his head, unable to prevent a smile of triumph from creeping over his face. The old woman was as good as gone now. “Not this time, Lise. You get out of mine.” With that, he put both hands on the old woman’s shoulders and pushed. He had miscalculated how tight her grip was on the banister, and she only stumbled back two steps before recovering.
    “Is that your best shot?” She wheezed in a breath. “Not that easy to kill an old woman, is it, ofay?” She raised her cane and rapped it across his knuckles. “I said, get out of my way.”
    The surge of adrenaline muted the pain radiating across back of his hand. He