Among the Oaks

Chapter One

She felt at home.

And it had taken many years to reach this place and this moment. The sun was just starting to stream through the white curtains across her bed and, as she sometimes did at this time of the morning between waking and sleep, she reflected on her journey.

"Journey" seemed almost too grand of a word for an orphaned girl from a small French village. After all, she had done nothing striking or memorable with her life. She was the daughter of a farmer, and now she was the wife of one. But she was happy, and this meant more to her than anything.

Marie reached out across the bed and touched the space where Jean always slept beside her. He was already up and out taking care of his land, of course. A farmer's work never stopped. She remembered being a tiny girl, excited to be up before dawn with her father as he readied himself for the day's work. She would watch her mother, belly swollen with her baby brother, pack a lunch for her sweet papa before he kissed them both on the forehead.

"À bientôt," he'd say with a smile. He was a kind, gentle soul. This memory was from the happiest time of Marie's childhood. Her entire family would be gone within the next two years. She shut her eyes tightly as a wave of distant grief swept over her. But thankfully, she was suddenly distracted by a little whirlwind flying into her bed.

"Maman!" Her younger son, Henri, hurled himself into her chest and wrapped his tiny arms around her neck. "Jojo left with Papa again." Jojo was Joseph, her older son. Henri pressed his chubby cheek against hers and heaved a sigh of complete betrayal. Marie kissed his sweaty forehead, like her own papa used to do, and inhaled his baby scent.

Henri was barely four while his older brother was eight, and Joseph thought this meant he was a grown man with less facial hair and a slight proclivity to still want his maman to tuck him into bed some nights. Marie had long since given up trying to keep Joseph home with her and Henri. He followed his father like a shadow, so much so it was almost comical watching him strut behind Jean like he was six feet tall too. She dreaded the day Henri followed his brother away from her, but for now he was here, and he still ran to his maman before anyone else.

"Come, bebe." Marie gave her son another tight squeeze before sitting up in bed. She stretched her slender feet to the hardwood floor, bones popping softly in her knees and ankles. Mon dieu, I may be twenty-five but my body sounds like bones in a grave, she thought. She cradled Henri against her as she stood, wavy black hair falling to her waist.

"Jojo and Papa will be back soon enough. We'll have breakfast ready for them, yes?" She felt a little nod against her neck. Marie pressed a smile into her son's hair as she carried him out of the room.

Later, Marie gazed out of the window, waiting for the appearance of her husband and son from among the oak trees beyond the rows of tobacco plants.

She could barely see Fort Rosalie on a bluff in the distance, the one and only French stronghold in the Natchez territory of New France. The fort had been established but a few years before Jean Roussin decided to take his new wife and try his hand at raising tobacco along the mighty waters of the Fleuve St. Louis.

The weather here was different than in France. The air clung to your skin and seemed cloyingly heavy, especially in the dead of summer, when not a single breeze dare spring up except during brief and torrential thunderstorms that fled just as quickly as they arrived. Oh, and who could forget about the mosquitos? She certainly could not.

A movement caught her eye.

"Un officier," she murmured as the vibrant red and navy shades of his uniform came into full view, rows of polished buttons gleaming in the morning light. Henri's head snapped up from his breakfast as the words left his mother's mouth, and he rushed to the window to catch a glimpse. Marie picked him up to give him a better vantage point and felt a soft pang at his weight. She wouldn't be able to pick him up for much longer.

The man was astride a black horse picking its way from among the trees at the edge of the Roussin's little property. They watched intently as he leisurely rode along, obviously taking in his surroundings as he approached their cabin. Marie snapped out of her trance when she realized she was not properly dressed to be receiving a visitor, let alone an officer.

She was just getting a shawl around her shoulders and shoving her hair into a hastily wrapped bun when a soft but firm knock came from the front door. Henri looked at her with a mixture of fascination and fear on his sweet face. She smiled brightly at him, and said, "Everything is fine, my love." And then Marie opened the door.