JERICHO'S SEASON
"To everything there is a season..." Ecclesiastes 3:1
Chapter 1
Despondently Jericho sat on his cot. The small storeroom was damp from the daylong rain. He could hear it still lightly dripping from the eaves. His cousin Cincinnatus was angry with him. As punishment for accidentally spilling a keg of powder the storekeeper had demanded that the young man dust every shelf in the general store and restock. Jericho's shoulders ached and his stomach growled from the stingy supper he'd consumed.
His thoughts turned to Suma. If only the girl hadn't decided that it was too much work to live as a white woman they'd be married now and settled on a lovely little farm. Here in the settlement the only girl that had caught his eye was Jemima Boone. Her sparkling blue eyes and gentle smile always made him feel special. But she had been avoiding him lately. Immediately after he'd elevated himself in the eyes of the community by rescuing the Indian runner who'd broken his leg, Jemima seemed to seek his company. Jericho couldn't understand why she had changed toward him.
Once again he thought of his family's farm across the mountains in the Carolinas. His father was dead and his brothers and sisters helped their mother survive on the rocky little farm. Being the oldest and a responsible young man, Jericho felt it was his duty to obey his mother's request that he move west to work in his cousin Cincinnatus' store. Not only would he be on his own with an opportunity to start fresh in Kentucky but there would be one less mouth to feed off of the Carolina rocks. Two younger sisters and two younger brothers were married and on their own, leaving five children still for his mother to raise. He sent her money every chance that he could but Jericho knew that it didn't go far. This winter he had decided to ask Daniel Boone if he could accompany the man and his Cherokee friend on their annual trapping expedition. The extra money would be greatly appreciated by Molly Jones.
Jericho's pet rabbit thumped his back feet in an expression of aggravation. "What do you want, you mangy animal?" The lithe young man rose and walked the three feet to gather the little animal to his chest. When he bent to raise the rabbit he saw that the mischievous animal had chewed the corner of the bottom oat sack and the oats were spilling out onto the floor. The rabbit's irritation came from the fact that the cloth sack wasn't ripping fast enough to suit it. Staring at the ripped sack, understanding that Cincinnatus would be angry about that too, Jericho decided to desert his cousin's establishment and strike out on his own.
Without clear thought the young man gathered his meager belongings, pulled his clothes on over his long underwear, stomped his boots onto his feet and slipped his coat over his shoulders. He raised the collar close about his neck and pushed his hat down firmly on his head. Then with a final glance around the small storage shed he grasped his pack, rifle and accoutrements. Closing the door tightly he stepped out into the lessening shower and strode with purpose through the stockade gates.
A few hours later Cincinnatus discovered the abandoned storage shed. When Jericho failed to appear at breakfast the older man's suspicions were raised and he went immediately out to the shed. Though he failed to find Jericho he did find one very sleepy rabbit with an engorged stomach. Sputtering in anger the spry storekeeper rushed back into his establishment and began a letter to his cousin's wife Molly.
At that same hour Jericho was awakening under the very large pine tree where he had sheltered through the remainder of the night. He was very hungry. Slipping out from under the tree's low-hanging branches he soundlessly sought a vantage point from which to shoot his breakfast. Minutes later he returned to the pine with a small rabbit. The animal was not much bigger than the bunny that had shared his storage shed. That knowledge brought a flood of memories and an uncomfortable twinge of guilt. He pushed them out of his mind and went to work preparing his breakfast.
A few hundred yards from the tree the smell of wood smoke drifting on the rain-dampened air caused Mingo to stop. He raised his head to ascertain the direction of the fire. Stepping silently on the soggy soil he cautiously approached Jericho's camp. The odor of roasting meat hung heavy in the air. Mingo swallowed and announced himself. He was surprised to see the face of Jericho Jones peep out of the pine's branches behind his aimed rifle.
Smiling, Mingo ducked under the pine boughs and sat across from the Boonesborough youth. Jericho glanced at his companion and then dropped his eyes back to the ground. From his actions Mingo understood that Jericho was upset and embarrassed. Having gotten to know the young man while serving as a mentor during Jericho's time with the Creeks, Mingo felt able to begin probing for the cause. He cleared his throat.
"A pine tree makes a good shelter during a long, rainy night. I've spent many; many nights sheltered beneath pine boughs myself. But a small rabbit isn't much breakfast. I have some coffee with me. I think I'd welcome a hot cup. I'll be back shortly."
Mingo ducked underneath the branches and returned in less than ten minutes with a pot of water. Silently he poured a measure of coffee into the pot and set it at the edge of the small fire. Without a word he slipped away again and returned in a half-hour carrying dry wood carved from underneath a log. He added a piece or two and sat close, warming his chilled hands.
"This could turn into the first snow of the season. The temperature is dropping rapidly. Are you on a hunting trip?" Mingo's face betrayed no suspicions and Jericho found himself wanting to confide in the Cherokee.
"Mingo, I'm leavin' Boonesborough. I can't take it any more. Cincinnatus treats me like I was an indentured servant or a slave. I don't have to put up with his nonsense, and I'm not going to! I'm finished."
Mingo looked into the young man's angry green eyes. He could tell that there were other issues preying on his mind. Smiling gently, he reached for the coffee pot and poured a cup. He held it out to Jericho. The young man sipped gratefully, then handed the cup back to Mingo. The Indian took a swallow and balanced it on his knee.
"Jericho, I know that you feel mistreated. But have you tried to talk to Cincinnatus about the reasons for your discontent?"
"I've talked 'til I was blue in the face, but he won't listen. He just repeats what he's said before. My ma sent me to him so's I could get a stake and start out fresh. And that's what he feels he's doin'. Making me sleep in that damp ol' shed. Workin' me from dawn to dark. Feedin' me stringy meat and boiled out potatoes. I don't deserve to be treated like that Mingo, I just don't!"
Mingo dropped his gaze and listened with his heart. He had been privy to a few small details about Jericho's life while they were together inside the Creek lodge months ago. Realizing that he probably was the closest thing to a friend in the young man's life, Mingo determined to spend the time Jericho needed to release his anger. He raised his eyes to Jericho's troubled face.
"I'm going to want more than a rabbit morsel soon. I know a promising nook nearby. I should be back within an hour or two. Save me a cup of coffee, please." Before Jericho could stop him Mingo bent, slipped under the branches and disappeared. Jericho added more wood to the fire, then followed Mingo under the branches to look for more dry firewood. From Mingo's words he understood that the older man intended to shelter under the pine for several hours. Somehow that knowledge eased Jericho's heart. But they would need more wood.