might say that, and what is you doin’ down here?” replied the white man pushing his hair out of his eyes so he could see.
It was Frank Olliver.
Lott quickly dismounted and went over to shake Frank’s hand. Recognizing Lott, Frank laid his saw down and hurried to meet his old companion.
“What the hell you boys doin’ down here? I heard you was some-wheres in these woods, and it’s about time we had a get together” laughed Frank, as he shook Lott’s hand and patted him on the back.
“What the hell you doin’ here?” Jake said angrily, as he remained saddled and made no effort to greet his old friend.
“Get off that ole horse, and let’s talk a spell,” replied Frank trying to avoid the question.
“You boys has changed some since I last seen ya. Just look at them beards, and Jake you seem to have lost some weight too. Lott, you’s gettin’ a lot of grey hair mighty early, ain’t ya?” chuckled Frank.
Jake reluctantly dismounted and walked slowly over to greet him. Jake and Lott had mixed emotions about Frank. They still considered Frank a friend, but he was up to no good and they had to stop him. Their anger gradually changed to suspicion.
After about an hour of sharing the past year’s experience, Lott finally asked Frank the question both parties had been avoiding. “Frank, do you know that this land you’s workin’ ain’t yores?” stated Lott. “You’s workin’ another man’s land.”
Frank squirmed nervously. “Lott, I want you to meet the first niggar in these parts. This here is Toby. My paw-in-law in Louisiana let me borrow him to help me get this place started.”
Toby raised his hand to acknowledge his introduction but remained seated at the base of a large beech tree studying this unusual pair that had ridden in on them so suddenly.
“Is he a slave, Frank?” questioned Jake.
“Well, he ain’t my slave, Jake. He’s my paw-in-law’s slave. When I get through with him, I’ll send him on back to the bayou country.”
“Frank, we don’t like slavery, and I hope there ain’t no slaves kept in this county. It ain’t right,” stated Lott.
“Lott, let me tell ya sump’n. Slavery’s legal, and these niggars are property just like yore mules, plus we treat them a helluvah lot better than you treat them animals of yores,” Frank said, becoming angry at the way Lott and Jake were questioning him.
“And yes, I know this here is a Choctaw’s land I’m workin’, but they ain’t any better than that niggar sittin’ over there under that tree. Them Choctaws don’t know how to work this land.”
Jake had all he could stand and before Frank could make another statement, Jake jumped up and grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him off the ground until his feet were barely touching ground.
“Let me tell you sump’n, Frank Olliver! This Choctaw you’s talkin’ about is a friend of mine, and he is a helluvah lot better person than you is ever going to be,” shouted Jake, shaking him with each word.
Frank fearing for his life called out, “Toby! get this fool off me. Get the ax, Niggar! He’s going to kill me.”
Toby reached for the ax but Lott intervened.
“Wait a minute men! This here’s gone too far. Jake, let him down and just cool off some,” Lott said, getting hold of Jake and pulling Frank away from him. “And Toby, you don’t want none of Jake. He’ll hurt ya.”
“Yessuh, I didn’t want none of him, but I has to mind Mas’ Olliver,” replied Toby, laying the ax down.
“Frank, the only problem we has, is you is farmin’ a friend of ours land. It ain’t right; Judge Henry won’t go for it, and we need to stay friends, if’n we can,” stated Lott trying to restore peace and order.
Frank straightened his clothes and stammered some apologies.
“Maybe I did make a mistake to take this land, Lott, but I didn’t think the Choctaw would mind me using a few acres, and hell, Jake, I didn’t know he was a friend of yores,” replied Frank. “We got to live together.”
Lott and Jake nodded, straightened their clothes and mounted their horses for home. They doubted Frank’s sincerity and knew that their problems with Frank Olliver were just beginning. Mister Mac always Frank said couldn’t be trusted.
As they rode, little passed between them, but as they approached the house, Lott cautioned Jake about what had been forming in his mind.
“Jake, I got sump’n bothering me, and it’s got to come out,” Lott said, reining his horse to a stop.
“What’s up brother?” replied Jake, pulling his horse up next to Lott’s.
“Jake, you embarrassed Frank in front of that big black. What’s his name? Toby, that’s it, and Jake, Frank ain’t going to forget it. He’s going to get you someday, somehow. You better watch yore back.”
“I ain’t worried about that bastard. It’ll take more than him to bring me down,” replied Jake.
Minsa and Hatta were sitting on the front step, waiting.
“Good to see you, Wilsons. You kill white man?” questioned Minsa, stepping forward to stop the horses.
“Naw, we didn’t kill nobody, but I sure felt like it,” Jake said, dismounting.
“That man ain’t going to pester you no more. If’n he do, you just tell me and I’ll get him,” Jake said, as he walked over to embrace Hatta.
“Minsa, you is going to be fine. Let’s go to the kitchen and see if’n we can round up some vittles,” Lott said, pointing toward the back of the house.
Later that night, Minsa and Hatta left and Lott and Jake were alone on the front porch. Lott packed his pipe full and lit it. Tobacco was a new habit for him.
“Jake, can I ask you sump’n personal, and will you not get mad at me?” Lott said, feeling uncomfortable about what was bothering him.
“You sure can, brother. That’s what brothers do,” replied Jake, not paying a lot of attention.
“Jake, ain’t Hatta gained a little weight? You know, in the middle?”
“What you gettin’ at?” answered Jake, trying to avoid looking at his inquisitive brother.
“Jake, now don’t get mad at me. Is Hatta going to have a baby? And if’n she is, it’s all right with me.”
“Lott, I love that woman, and she is going to have my baby,” replied Jake, as he stared hard toward the barnyard.
“I been ‘fraid to tell ya ‘bout it. I didn’t know how you’d take it. I thought you might get mad,” continued Jake, pleased that Lott was not scolding him for once.
“Jake, this is how I feel. Hatta is carryin’ my future niece or nephew, and I think the child should carry the Wilson name. My brotherly advice to you is to go down there tomorrow, ask Minsa if’n you can take her for yore wife, and bring her to our place. You two can have the other side of the house. And, the first time a preacher comes to this here country, he can marry you two and make it legal,” Lott said with finality.
“Lott, what’s people going to say ‘bout us havin’ a Choctaw in our house?” asked Jake.
“Jake, I don’t give a hooter’s damn what they say ‘bout that. We were the first to settle this country, and we’ll set the rules,” answered Lott, leaning back in his chair and blowing a large circle of smoke into the air.
Jake eased up out of his seat and motioned Lott to stand up.
Lott was apprehensive about Jake’s intentions since he had been meddling, but he stood anyway. Lott hadn’t had a fight with Jake