October 13, 1811
Dr. McAllister and Zeb turned as they heard the front gate squeak open. Nashoba and two Choctaw braves, clad in deerskin pants and shirts, led their horses around the house and into the backyard.
Nashoba handed his reins to one of the braves and ran up to the porch. He nodded to Zeb and shook Dr. McAllister’s hand. “It is good to see you, sir.”
“Good to see you, Nashoba. Hannah and her mother are upstairs. They’ll be down in a minute. Please sit down.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I won’t be able to stay.” Nashoba pointed to his companions. “The nakni, the braves, brought me a message from Yowani. My father is there, and he has been hurt. He had been visiting with the Creek Indians. I don’t know the details. He wants to see me as soon as possible.”
“But that’s terrible, Nashoba. I wonder what happened? Even though he is a white man, he has always been accepted by the nations he has visited.”
“I don’t know. The nakni don’t know. But I must go back immediately. I’ll just wait to say good-bye to Hannah and her mother, then we’ll be on our way north.”
Hannah burst out of the door, followed by her mother.Hannah was wearing one of the two sets of boy’s clothes she had brought from Yowani. “Nashoba!” she cried. “Did I hear you say you hafta go back to Yowani?”
“My father is there. He’s been badly hurt and he needs me.”
“Oh, Nashoba,” she said. “I’m so sorry. But thank you so much for helping us get down here from Yowani.”
Hannah’s mother took his hand in hers. “We thank you, too, Nashoba.” She nodded to the two nakni. “I know you’ll want to leave right away. I’ll put together some food for you to take along.” She hurried toward the kitchen.
Zeb called over his shoulder as he ran to the barn at the back of the yard. “We still have those deerskin food bags we got from the villagers at Yockanookany.”
Hannah threw her arms around Nashoba’s waist. “I’m gonna miss you, Nashoba. I hope we’ll get back to Yowani soon.”
He patted her short hair and hugged her. “I’m going to miss you, too, Hannah. I’m so glad that you’re home and safe.” Hannah stepped back and looked up at him.
Nashoba turned to Zeb. He held out his hand. “I’m proud to call you brother,” he said. They shook hands and thumped each other on the back. Zeb, Nashoba, and the two nakni loaded the food into the bags.
Dr. McAllister took Nashoba’s hand. “Thank you again, Nashoba. Be careful on the Nashville Road. It has become much more dangerous.”
“The Nashville Road?” Zeb asked Dr. McAllister.
“Yes. When heading north on it toward Nashville, they call it the Nashville Road, not the Natchez Road.”
The braves mounted and moved toward the gate. Hannah ran to open it. She stood in the street as they cantered toward the Nashville Road and Yowani.
Even though he was hungry and the meal was wonderful, Zeb was eager to leave. But he hated to get up from the table before the others were finished. He looked up to find Hannah’s mother smiling at him. “I know you’re anxious to go, Zeb. Why don’t you and Hannah get your horses tacked up and go over to Culpepper’s farm to get Suba? Tack up that old bay for me, too. I just can’t let Hannah out of my sight.”
A short time later, Zeb, Hannah, and her mother passed through the outskirts of town and then turned the horses off the main road onto a narrow trail between two fenced fields. A number of horses grazed on the far side of one of the fields.
Hannah put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. A tall black mare lifted her head, her ears flicked forward. When Hannah whistled again, the mare broke away from the herd and galloped toward her. The other horses thundered toward the fence behind the mare.
The black horse put her head over the split-rail fence, her soft muzzle extended toward Hannah’s outstretched hand. Hannah stroked Suba’s face. “I’m home, Suba. I’m home,” she murmured.
Suba turned her head and looked at Harlequin, the horse Hannah was riding. She stretched her neck, her nose close to his head. Suddenly, she squealed and leaped sideways, skittering along the fence.
A man on a large chestnut horse galloped toward them. “Private property!” he shouted. “Get away from those horses!”
The man pulled the horse in, clouds of dust settling around him. He was holding the reins in one hand, his other hand resting on a rifle in a saddle holster. He sat back as he recognized Hannah’s mother. “Mrs. McAllister,” he said. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong?” He lifted his chin toward Hannah and Zeb. “Who are these two boys?”
“Mr. Culpepper!” Hannah cried. “It’s me! Hannah! I’m home! I’ve come to get Suba.”
The man moved his horse so he was face-to-face with Hannah. He stared at her face and her short cropped hair and then at the Choctaw deerskin pants she was wearing. “Hannah! My dear child. I would never have recognized you. You’re home! You’re back! How wonderful! We all thought we would never see you again. Where have you been? What happened?”
Hannah’s mother walked her horse closer to his. “We just thank God she is back with us.”
Hannah reached out and put her hand on his arm. “I have to tell you all about it later, Mr. Culpepper.” She raised her chin in Zeb’s direction. “We need to take Suba back to the house so Zeb can ride her into Natchez.”
Hannah turned Harlequin and moved back toward the gate. Zeb and Culpepper turned with her, riding three abreast. Hannah’s mother followed behind.
“There’s no way I can let you take Suba,” Culpepper said. “She’s much too spirited. She’s been ridden every day, but not many could ride her on an open road, Hannah. She needs to be worked hard for a while in a corral.”
“Thank you, Mr. Culpepper. We’ll lead her home and then we’ll see,” Hannah replied. “If she’s too hard to handle, we’ll bring her back.”
Suba, in the meantime, had galloped away, leading the other horses back to the far side of the field. When Hannah reached the gate, she vaulted off Harlequin, opened the gate, and stepped inside, holding Suba’s bridle in her hand. She put her fingers in her mouth again, but even before she could whistle, Suba trotted, tail raised high, back to her. As Hannah approached her, Suba stretched her neck toward Hannah and then backed away.
Hannah turned from Suba and began to walk slowly toward the gate. Suba stepped forward quickly and put her head over Hannah’s shoulder. Hannah reached up and stroked the horse’s muzzle, slipping the reins over her head and the bit into her mouth. “You always fall for that, don’t you, girl?”
She had used a curb bit with a short shank. Hannah looked up at Zeb. “I know how you feel about curb bits, Zeb, but no one would be able to manage Suba without it.”
“We use curb bits with all the horses we train for the army,” Zeb replied. “The sergeant was usin’ a curb bit with an extra long shank and a roller. It’s very painful, and can break a horse’s jaw. That’s why I didn’t like it.”
Culpepper looked closely at Zeb as if he had just noticed something about the young man.
Hannah led the horse out of the pasture and closed the gate behind her. She remounted Harlequin and then led Suba down the dirt road toward the McAllister house.
Mr. Culpepper rode with them next to Hannah’s mother. He tipped his hat toward Mrs. McAllister. “Martha, I am glad Hannah’s home safe and sound.”
“Thank you,” she said.
As he turned the horse back toward his farm he said, “Welcome home, Hannah. Mary Katherine will be relieved and happy to know you’re home.”
He looked at Zeb and appeared to be about to say something, but then tipped his hat again and cantered back the way he had come.
As they neared Hannah’s house, Zeb could see Hannah’s father standing on the front porch, waiting for them. Sarah was standing by the gate. Hannah and Zeb put Christmas, Harlequin, and Mrs. McAllister’s horse back into the barn.
Zeb led Suba around the backyard, talking to her quietly. He stroked her long neck. “What a beautiful animal you are. We’re gonna get along just fine,” he whispered to her. The horse pulled back and then danced forward. “You’re lettin’ me know you’re ready to run, aren’t you? Calm down, atta girl, calm down.”
A fine, misty rain was beginning to fall. Zeb handed Suba’s reins to Hannah and jogged into the barn where he had left his tack. He returned with his bed roll and saddlebags and the piece of worn canvas that served as half of a small tent. “If it starts to rain hard,” he said, “I can use this as a poncho.”
“This rain won’t last,” Dr. McAllister said. “We get little sun showers almost every day at this time of year.”
Suba lifted her head. Someone was coming down the road at an easy canter. “It’s Katie!” Hannah shouted, and ran to open the gate.
A girl mounted on a dappled gray Arabian slowed the horse and then trotted her through the open gate and into the yard. The girl sat tall and completely at ease. She looked around the yard, her eyes passing over Hannah and then turning sharply back. “Hannah?” she said. “Is that you?”
Hannah smiled up at her.
The girl vaulted off the horse and ran to Hannah. “Oh, Hannah, Hannah, Father said I wouldn’t recognize you. We all thought you were dead!”
Hannah moved quietly to where Zeb was standing with Suba. She took Suba’s reins from him. “Katie, I want you to meet the person who brought me home, Zebulon D’Evereux from Franklin, Tennessee. Zeb, this is Mary Katherine Culpepper, my best friend.”
The girl pulled off her hat, revealing hair the coppery color of the lamp Zeb’s mama kept polished at home. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail. Freckles spread across her cheeks and her nose.
Zeb nodded to her, and the girl smiled at him. “Father told me about you,” she said. “He’s coming here this afternoon to talk with you.”
“I’m sorry,” said Zeb, talking Suba’s reins from Hannah. “I hafta get into Natchez as soon as possible. Maybe I’ll see him when I get back.”
Zeb saddled Suba and adjusted the stirrups to fit his long legs. He swung up on her and walked the horse around the yard, to the barn and back. Suba seemed calm and manageable, but Hannah grinned. “She’s just waiting for you to get out on the road.”
As he turned Suba toward the gate, Zeb could feel the horse’s muscles tightening. She was ready to run.