Chapter 9
"I just got word back from Seattle," Sgt. Lovejoy said once he exited the small office of the inn they were staying at in Hoquiam. "So far, no one has gone to the authorities with any information but we have her description listed with all authorities throughout the state. If anyone sees her, they'll come forward."
"How will we know any of that? This is the first town to have a telegraph since we left Olympia," Peter said.
"I know Port Angeles has a telegraph. It'll just have to be a matter of check every town for a telegraph."
"Poor Renesmee," Peter mumbled to himself with teary eyes.
"This again?" Sgt. Lovejoy sighed and sat next to Peter at the table he sat at. "I can't have you keep doing this, Mr. Wallis."
"You don't know how it feels," Peter said back. "You don't know what it's like for your wife to be taken by Indians."
"I can imagine it feels terrible," Sgt. Lovejoy reached into his coat pocket and pulled out all his tools to build cigarettes. "Listen to me, Mr. Wallis," Sgt. Lovejoy began, "I've been doing this a long time. I've seen some terrible things dealing with these savages, things I've wished to never see. When you work in a business like that, you have to become a little thick skinned and thus far, your wife's case is nothing special. She's been kidnapped, we need to find her, very simple. So you'll have to excuse me if I'm not shedding a tear for your wife."
"You would if you knew her."
"Well it's a damn good thing I don't. I'd never get anything done if I cared a lick about the people I've been dispatched to rescue."
"You heartless bastard," Peter mumbled.
"And that's why I'm successful. I'll have plenty of opportunity to grow fond of your wife once we get her, but until then, she's an assignment and I'm doing my job. You, by the way, are not making my job any easier with your constant belly-aching. So have a cigarette and calm down." Sgt. Lovejoy offered Peter the completed cigarette and he took it with a grimace.
"We'll speak with the tribe outside of town tomorrow. With any luck, we'll find her there and we can have her home in another week and a half tops. Otherwise we'll have to make our way to Neilton. That's a day and a half trek if we're lucky."
"God Damn it," Harrison moaned. "I've never walked so damn much in my life."
"Don't whine, boy. Walking's good for you," Sgt. Lovejoy said as he took a puff of his fresh made cigarette. Then Mitchell came back with four glasses and a bottle of whiskey.
"This ought to calm you down," he said as he placed down the glasses. He filled each glass with whiskey and moved them in front of everyone. Peter took a hold of his glass, but while the others drank he only stared at the glass and swirled the liquid around inside.
"What happens if my wife turns up dead because we sat around drinking whiskey in a bar when we should've been looking for her?"
"If you don't want the damn whiskey, then you don't need to drink it," Mitchell said.
"If their plan was to kill her, they would've killed her a long time ago. So if she's dead when we get there, then there was nothing we could do. Mitchell's right: if you aren't going to drink your whiskey then give it to someone who will." With the same grimace on his face, Peter slid his glass across the table to Lovejoy, who caught and poured it into his own glass. He took a swig and released a contented refreshed sigh when he was done. "Thank you, sir."
"Eh," Peter responded morosely and rested his head on his forearms on the table.
"So Mitchell," Lovejoy said after another sip of his whiskey, "what did the bartender say about the local tribe?"
"He didn't really have much to say," Mitchell said. "The man drinking over there had more to say about them."
"And what did that man have to say?"
"He said they call themselves the Chichoweital tribe. They're a very small group of people, but all of them speak English for the most part. Evidently this town has a friendlier relationship with the tribe than Aberdeen. They're even invited to Thanksgiving every year at the town hall." Lovejoy laughed a little.
"Well isn't that darling," he said. "Do they get a turkey with green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, brussel sprouts and sweet potato casserole?"
"Ick," Harrison shivered, "I hate brussel sprouts."
"You wouldn't if you had them the way my momma does them," Lovejoy smiled. "She bakes those suckers in butter and finishes them with sautéed pork belly. You haven't had brussel sprouts until you've tried Momma Lovejoy's."
"Can we get back to the topic of my wife's possible whereabouts please?!" Peter snapped suddenly. Everyone in the group looked at Peter like he'd needlessly ruined a good time. Lovejoy took a deep breath, another sip of whiskey, and waved his hand at Mitchell.
"Continue," he said.
"Well, anyway, while the guy at the bar doesn't necessarily know anyone from the tribe, he does know they're peaceful. I asked about the possibility that the tribe may have kidnapped Mrs. Wallis and he was skeptical."
"Why was he skeptical?"
"Well, according to him, no one in the tribe really leaves their reservation except to come to town and get a few things. Some tribesmen even work here in down and earn a wage of food and clothes."
"Do they?" Lovejoy asked, intrigued.
"Yeah. Specifically, there's a guy that works at the bakery here in town. He didn't know the guy's name, but he knew about the man."
"Well then," Lovejoy finished the remaining whiskey in one go. "Peter, you stay here and keep an eye on the whiskey while we go speak with this gentleman."
"No," Peter stood from his chair, "you're not leaving me out. Have one of them keep an eye on the damn whiskey!"
"Or we could finish it first," Harrison innocently offered.
"No, no, we can't be drunk when interrogating. It compromises one's intuition." Lovejoy stepped to the bar and spoke with the bartender momentarily. When he turned around, it was towards the door and he motioned for all three men to come follow him outside. "The bartender will look after our drinks. Did the man say where the bakery is?"
"On 11th Avenue across the bridge."
"Figures the bakery in on the other side of town," Sgt. Lovejoy rubbed his face. "Alright, let's get going."
"Do you even know where we're going?" Peter asked.
"We'll worry about getting directions once we're over the bridge," Lovejoy brushed off and continued out of the bar with Harrison and Mitchell following.
Actually getting over the bridge from the corner of Aberdeen Ave. and Jeffries St. was bad enough. All Lovejoy had known for sure was to go west on Aberdeen until they hit the water. From there, they had to ask a few people how to get to the bakery only to have people rave to them about it. They finally got a name from a few of them: Cory. No one knew the man's real name so they all called him Cory. He was an Indian of the previously mentioned Chichoweital tribe and was well known and well-liked by the townspeople for cooking some of the best sugar cookies in the world. By the time they arrived at the bakery, they knew Cory stayed on the reservation but worked in town, that he could bake bread as if he'd done so all his life, was the baker's prized employee (so much so that it was rumored the baker was even giving Cory money for his services) and that he was evidently a husband and father of three. Sgt. Lovejoy and the others let themselves into the shop and were greeted by a young girl with tight braids, dark brown hair, and a freckled face. She seemed to be very young.
"Good Morning!" she said in a chipper tone. "What can I get for you gentlemen? Some coffee and cookies maybe?"
"Actually, we were hoping we could speak with Cory. That is his name, correct? The Indian that works here?"
"I can check and see if he's available," the young girl said.
"Before you go, what is your name young lady?"
"Sherry, Officer," she answered and Lovejoy laughed.
"Sergeant, my dear."
"I'm sorry," she responded with her hands suddenly on her face.
"It's quite alright dear. Now please see about getting Cory out here to speak with us."
The young girl bowed her head a little and ran to the back where the kitchen was. They heard idle chit chat initially, taking up precious time as far as Peter was concerned. Eventually, Sherry did mention to Cory that there were men up front that wanted to speak with him. Sherry finally came out with Cory and went right back to her little register ready to greet anymore customers that came in. Cory was a tall man, but not much taller than Lovejoy. Aside from the obvious black hair, tan skin, and more prominent cheekbones, the man had very kind eyes and was even smiling a little.
"Sherry said you wanted to speak with me?" Cory said when he was out front.
"Yes we did," Lovejoy said. "My name is Sgt. Brandon D. Lovejoy. This is Pvt. Laurence Mitchell, Pvt. Luke Harrison and a Mr. Peter Wallis."
"And what can I do for you?"
"Well, Cory, we're on a bit of a hunt, a rescue mission really. Mr. Wallis here is married to a lovely woman named Renesmee."
"That's different," Cory said with a chuckle.
"You watch your mouth," Peter blurted out suddenly, causing Cory to take a step back.
"I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect."
"Don't worry about it, Cory," Sgt. Lovejoy said. "He's just a bit hostile given the situation. Just ignore him. Anyway, we've been looking for his wife all over and we're quite certain Indians took her."
"What makes you so certain it was Indians?"
"The way the house looked, the suddenness of the disappearance, and there are Indians all over the place here in Washington. Also, were it robbers or bandits, surely they would've taken something besides Mrs. Wallis and her slave. Yet that was all that was taken."
"There's no Renesmee at the reservation to my knowledge. We have people from here that go down there all the time, but no one different has popped out at me."
"Maybe this will help." Sgt. Lovejoy pulled out the picture Peter was provided when Renesmee was engaged to him through mail order. "Does she look familiar at all?" Cory took the picture and looked at it closely.
"I'm sorry, I can't say she does. I would know if she was there. There aren't more than maybe 100 people in my tribe so if someone like that turned up, I would've noticed."
"Do you suppose someone of your tribe may be hiding her? Perhaps you're tribe has had dealings with other tribes in a market of human trafficking?"
"Now hold on just one minute," Cory said, suddenly defensively. "What in the hell are you implying? My tribe and I have no such dealings with other tribes. Hoquiam and Aberdeen are the only groups of people we have any kind of business dealings or trading agreements with. We do not deal in any sort of human trafficking now have we ever done such things."
"How can we be so sure of that?"
"You're welcome to go to the reservation and check for yourself."
"Well, if your people had nothing to do with Mrs. Wallis's disappearance, do you have any idea who may have?"
"I couldn't say. Like I said, we don't really interact with other tribes anymore, so whatever they're doing, we don't know anything about it."
"I see," Sgt. Lovejoy took the picture back from Cory and placed it back in his coat pocket. "Would you mind terribly showing us the way to your reservation so we may conduct an investigation?"
"Sure," Cory nodded, though he was still weary of the Sergeant following his finger pointing. "I'll show you the way after work."
"I must insist you do so now."
"You'll have to take that up with my boss then," Cory said and then walked back to the kitchen area.
"Is everything okay, Cory?" Sherry asked as he passed.
"Everything's fine, kid," Cory smiled. "You just get back to work."
"Before you go," Sgt. Lovejoy said, "Where is your boss so that we may take the matter up with him?"
"Most likely in his office," Cory answered and pointed towards the right. "It's that room to the far right at the end of the bakery."
"Thank you," Sgt. Lovejoy said before Cory walked back into the kitchen. Lovejoy noticed the young girl suddenly seemed much less open to them. No doubt she was upset with them for causing Cory any ill concerns. Lovejoy motioned for his men and Peter to follow him to the back of the bakery where Cory said the Baker's office was. "And Mr. Wallis," Sgt. Lovejoy said suddenly.
"What?"
"Let me do the talking. I don't want to hear a peep from you." While Peter grimaced, Sgt. Lovejoy knocked on the closed door and waited for someone from the inside to permit them to come in. When it did, Sgt. Lovejoy opened the door to see a pudgy older gentleman that looked to be hurriedly putting something away. Lovejoy wasn't able to see it, but it had him instantly suspicious.
"How can I help you? Is there a problem up front?" the Baker asked.
"Not at all," Sgt. Lovejoy began. "My name is Sergeant Brandon D. Lovejoy. These are Pvt. Mitchell and Pvt. Harrison and the gentleman to my left is Mr. Peter Wallis. Might I enquire for your name?"
"Ted Locksley," the man answered. "How can I help you today?"
"Well, Mr. Locksley, we have an issue. You see, Mr. Wallis's wife, Mrs. Renesmee Wallis, was abducted last month and we are certain she was taken by Indians."
"If you're thinking the Chichoweital are to blame than I must inform you that you're sorely mistaken. I've known Cory all his life and I've been friends with his people for much longer and they're not capable of such a thing."
"I understand that, Mr. Locksley, but you must also understand our position. None of the tribes near Olympia are to blame for the incident. I've personally searched every tribe thoroughly with a fine tooth comb and the best bloodhound to every breath and we've not found her. We're left to believe she was taken by a tribe further from Olympia."
"Hold on a second," Mr. Locksley said, "You're from Olympia? That's at least 54 miles from here. What in Lord's name makes you think the Chichoweital would kidnap a woman from a town that far away? It would take them at least two weeks to get there and back! Even if they were capable of such a thing, no one in their right mind would travel so unsurely just for a girl."
"That is a natural assumption, Mr. Locksley, but so far our local tribes have come up short and we've been forced to begin our search elsewhere."
"In Hoquiam? How do you know it wasn't bandits or something? You guys are near the mountains aren't you? I'd sooner believe she was abducted by outlaws that make their home in the mountains than believe she was abducted by Indians that are a minimum 54 miles away."
"We already have a division searching the mountains as well," Sgt. Lovejoy stated. "As I've assured Mr. Wallis, no stone is being left un-turn in the search for his wife, which is why I must insist that Cory show us to the tribe and allow us to search this instant."
"It can wait until the end of his work day, I can assure you," Mr. Locksley stated. "I have customers coming in and out of my bakery all day, sometimes even the middle of the night. I can't afford to have him out of work just so you can look for a woman that isn't even there."
"Again, we can't be sure of that."
"Well I am sure of that," Mr. Locksley insisted. "As I've said before, I've known these people all my life and they're not capable of such a thing. If you insist on taking a look, I can understand, but you aren't going to take Cory away in the middle of his shift for a fruitless search."
"Perhaps, then, you could tell us how to get there ourselves," Sgt. Lovejoy suggested. "We don't necessarily need Cory with us for our interrogation."
"Interrogation?" Mr. Locksley repeated skeptically. "I've seen many like you, Sgt. Lovejoy, and men like you aren't performing an 'investigation', you're in the throes of a witch hunt."
"I can assure you Mr. Locksley that isn't what we're doing. We're just trying to find good Mrs. Wallis. It would be most helpful to us if you would allow us Cory so he may lend us a hand or tell us how to get there on our own."
"I have a better idea," Mr. Locksley said as he stood from his desk. "I'll show you how to get there."
"A fantastic idea," Sgt. Lovejoy said. "Can I trust that you will allow us to perform a thorough search, Mr. Locksley?"
"Within reason," Mr. Locksley said as he threw on his heavy coat. "But if you do anything I consider inappropriate or unwarranted, then I will be forced to demand you leave. Is that clear?"
"Crystal, Mr. Locksley," Sgt. Lovejoy answered. They followed Mr. Locksley out of his office and past the register.
"Sherry, you're in charge until I get back. Think you can handle it?" Mr. Locksley teased.
"You can count on me, Grandpa!" the girl cheered while giving her grandpa a salute.
Mr. Locksley laughed and patted Sherry's head before walking out with Lovejoy and his men following. Locksley went around the shop to his little cart with a Donkey loitering nearby. Sgt. Lovejoy suggested he take them back to the inn where their horses were, but Locksley insisted they not waste the trip and just take his cart. The trip to the reservation didn't take more than an hour. When they arrived, the group was surprised how many of the people were dressed in Caucasian clothes. The women were in tasteful flower dresses and some of the men were in overalls or other pants and loose fitting shirts. Some of the people were in more traditional clothes lined with fur to protect from the chill, but the majority were in clothes worn by the townspeople. There were also buildings that resembled homes in the town built from wood and even some multistoried ones. Had they not known better, they'd think it was just an expansion of Hoquiam.
"Well there's a site you don't see every day," Mitchell muttered when they approached the village. As they approached, a few people saw Locksley and seemed pleased to see him. Two little girls and a young toddler began running to him and Locksley smiled when he saw them.
"Grandpa Locksley!" The two little girls screamed before they hopped onto the front of the cart and hugged Mr. Locksley. The toddler tried getting on himself but he wasn't strong enough so Mr. Locksley pulled the little boy up to his lap by the back of his shirt.
"Grandpa?" Sgt. Lovejoy asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Like I said, I've known Cory all his life. He's like a second son to me. By virtue, his children are like my grandchildren."
Sgt. Lovejoy nodded, but it was skeptical. He didn't doubt this bizarre man had such a strange closeness to these people. What he doubted was that he could be trusted not to slow their investigation given his closeness. Mr. Locksley got off the cart with the three children holding onto him. He was forced to walk with a strange waddle as the children held on. A woman stepped forward laughing. She was wearing a yellow and white dress that was a little dirty. Sgt. Lovejoy and the others got off the cart and followed after while Locksley had a pleasant conversation with, Sgt. Lovejoy assumed must be, Cory's wife.
"What brings you here in the middle of the day?" the woman asked. "I thought Cory was bringing you and Sherry back for dinner tonight."
"He will be, but unfortunately another pressing issue came up." Mr. Locksley awkwardly pointed at Sgt. Lovejoy and his men. "This gentleman is searching for a woman named Rebecca Wallis."
"Renesmee Wallis!" Peter blurted out angrily. Sgt. Lovejoy snapped his fingers at Peter in irritation.
"Quiet," he ordered through gritted teeth.
"Excuse me," Mr. Locksley continued awkwardly. "They're searching for a Renesmee Wallis. I don't suppose you would know anything about this would you? They're claiming Indians kidnapped her from their home in Olympia."
"And they think we did it?" the woman actually snickered a little. "We never go past Aberdeen. What makes them think we'd do it?"
"I couldn't tell you," Mr. Locksley answered. "They're requesting permission to search the village." The woman shrugged.
"I mean, they can I guess but I don't know what they're expecting to find. I'll go grab Lexhiazu and they can make sure he's alright with it." The woman walked away and Sgt. Lovejoy took that moment to come closer.
"Lexhiazu is the chief I assume?"
"Yes, he is."
"I assume you know Cory's real name right?"
"It's Patchukati. That's his wife Sumakateih. When she's in the village, everyone calls her Lisa."
"How did they earn the names Cory and Lisa?"
"Their parents gave them those names. Technically Lisa and Cory are their middle names."
"Middle names? So these people have surnames?" Sgt. Lovejoy said with heavy skepticism.
"Some of them do. Cory's father took on my last name out of a show of friendship." Mr. Locksley smiled fondly.
"Did he now?"
"Yes. So his full name is Patchukati Cory Locksley. These three, though, they only have Eurocentric names." The three children, having tired of holding onto Mr. Locksley, were standing next to him now. The oldest of the three was to his right, the middle girl to his left and the little boy still hugged his left leg. "This is Patricia," Locksley patted the head of the girl to his right, "this is Lesley," he patted the head of the girl to his left, "and this strapping young man is Joseph. He calls himself JoJo," Mr. Locksley said with a chuckle.
"Where are their real grandparents?" Mitchell asked out of the blue.
"They're around. Fishing, certainly, and without me no less." Mr. Locksley chuckled. "I'll have to rectify that before too long." Just then, Lisa was coming forward with a very elderly looking man that stood tall only with the help of Lisa's shoulder. "Lexhiazu," Mr. Locksley greeted pleasantly.
"It's a pleasure to see you as always, Teddy," the older man said with a grin.
"You still insist on calling me that," he joked.
"Blame your mother, my boy. She insisted we all call you Teddy."
"You're the only one who still does." The two shared a brief laugh before Mr. Locksley got straight to the point. "I'm so sorry to bother you at this time of day, Lexhiazu, but I've got these gentleman here from Olympia and they're in search of a woman named Renesmee Wallis that they claim was abducted by Indians and they were hoping you'd let them take a look around."
"What on earth makes them think we did it?" Lexhiazu asked. "Where is Olympia exactly?"
"It's at the bottom of those great mountains," Mr. Locksley answered and Lehxiazu scoffed.
"Certainly not," he said. "We wouldn't have her. And I can't say we've met a woman by that name."
"Perhaps this might jog your memory," Sgt. Lovejoy said, pulling out a photo of Renesmee and handing it to Lehxiazu. The old chief looked at the picture carefully, but even then, he shook his head.
"I'm terribly sorry, but we've not seen her. If you insist, you're welcome to look for her, but I promise you won't find anything."
"I'll determine that for myself," Sgt. Lovejoy said. He motioned for Mitchell and Harrison to follow him as he began searching around the village. To his surprise, there were actual houses in the process of being built in this village. It was beginning to look much like Hoquiam in its housing. Searching these wouldn't be as easy as searching a simple single roomed teepee.
Houses of wood or Teepee, however, the result was ultimately the same. Sgt. Lovejoy and his men and especially Peter searched high and low for Renesmee and Caevia, trying to find any indication that they'd at least been here before or any indication that there might be something the Chichoweital weren't telling them. When they'd finished searching the grounds and asking people around the village if they recognized Renesmee when shown her picture, only to be told they knew nothing, Sgt. Lovejoy and his men reconvened with Lehxiazu, Lisa, and Locksley in what was essentially the town square of the village. Now was time for the part that usually got things either violent or extremely tense and upset the locals.
"Well, she's not in any of the homes," Sgt. Lovejoy said, warranting a nod from Lehxiazu. "Now all that's left is to search your graves."
"Excuse me?" Both Mr. Locksley and Lehxiazu said in unison.
"Search your graves," Sgt. Lovejoy reiterated. "Sure, we didn't find Renesmee walking around and well, but that doesn't mean she wasn't here. For all we know, you've killed her already and she's buried somewhere."
"Now wait just a God damn minute," Mr. Lovejoy stepped forward. "You have no right to defile their graves, no matter what the situation. Lehxiazu and all the others have confirmed what Cory and myself have already told you: that the woman you're looking for isn't here. How dare you try to intrude on the dead?"
"I understand you're discontentment Mr. Locksley-"
"Never mind my discontentment, what about the people's discontentment? It's their graves you're trying to defile."
"I won't accept no for an answer, Mr. Locksley. Either you allow me and my men to search peacefully or we make things difficult and I arrest all of you on contempt for disobeying a Sergeant. If you truly have nothing to hide, then us searching around should be no problem at all, wouldn't you agree?"
"That's not the point!" Mr. Locksley yelled.
"This is the last time I'll ask nicely, Mr. Locksley. Next time I have to ask, you will not only be arrested, but everyone in this village will be executed for not participating with an investigation of the US Government. Is that perfectly clear? Now, will you please show us where the gravesite is so we can proceed?" Mr. Locksley looked nervous and turned his eyes to the old chief asking what to do. Lehxiazu took a deep breath and nodded his head.
"You may search our graves," the old man said.
"Excellent," Sgt. Lovejoy said with a suddenly very chipper voice. "Where is the gravesite?" Without a word, Lehxiazu showed Lovejoy and his men where their dead were buried and they proceeded to search high and low. Again, they found nothing. No Renesmee, no Caevia, not even remnants of clothing from either.
"There," Mr. Locksley said when they were done digging. "You've completed your investigation. On behalf of Lehxiazu, I must insist you leave. I'll take you back to the inn."
"Much obliged, Mr. Locksley," Sgt. Lovejoy said. As they went to the cart, Mr. Locksley proceeded to apologize fervently for what happened that day and that he was truly sorry for ever bringing these men here. It was getting dark by the time they were getting ready to leave and Mr. Locksley stated that due to the circumstances, he needed to take a rain check on dinner. He felt horrible about today and he needed time to decompress regardless of how much Lehxiazu assured him it wasn't his fault and he need not feel ashamed for what happened.
Desperate to get Sgt. Lovejoy and his men off the reservation, Mr. Locksley nearly shoved them back onto his cart and said goodbye to everyone before they made the forty minute cart ride back to town. The ride back was extremely quiet. Locksley wouldn't say a word to them, which was strange given he'd been so chatty on the way there. He went to the inn to drop off Sgt. Lovejoy and his men and they leaped off the cart joyous to get some much needed sleep.
"Thanks again, Mr. Locksley, for your assistance with our investigation," Sgt. Lovejoy said.
"Just for the record, Mr. Lovejoy," Locksley began, "You and your men are no longer welcome at my bakery."
"We'll make a note of that, Mr. Locksley," Sgt. Lovejoy answered, ignoring the attempt Locksley had made at insulting him. Mr. Locksley rode away without another word and the handful of people that were still out, having seen the exchange, walked away from the scene not wanting to speak to them.
"What did you do to piss off ol' Ted like that?" They heard a light chuckle from behind them. It was a young man that had a bottle of bourbon in his hand who had stepped out of the bar for some air.
"He didn't appreciate the way I saw fit to interrogate your Indians," Sgt. Lovejoy answered briefly.
"Yeah, that would do it," the young man chuckled again. It was clear he was already mildly intoxicated. Seeing a possible way to gather more information, Sgt. Lovejoy stepped onto the patio to stand next to the young man.
"We'd gone there to look for someone." Sgt. Lovejoy pulled out Renesmee's photo and showed it to the man. "You wouldn't happen to recognize her would you?"
"Shit, no," the man said after the briefest of glances. "I'd remember a pretty face like that flouncing into town."
"How dare you-"
"Mr. Wallis, I said shut up!" Sgt. Lovejoy yelled suddenly. "Anyway, you're sure you've never seen her? Do you ever go down to the reservation for any reason? Perhaps you've seen her there?"
"Sorry, sir, but I haven't seen her. I usually only go down to the reservation to trade with them. I give them shoes, they give me deer. They're certainly nice enough from the dealings I've had with them, though."
"Your town seems to collectively like these people. That is rather peculiar."
"To you I suppose it would be," the young man laughed. "I wish I could help you; I really do. I wouldn't mind meeting that pretty little thing. I wonder if she's as straight laced as she looks or if she's one that's willing to untie her corset from time to time." The young man laughed a little, but Peter wasn't laughing. He grabbed the young boy by the color and began yelling at him to take back his comments. Sgt. Lovejoy managed to force Peter to release the young boy, who ran inside as soon as he was free.
"What did I tell you?!" Sgt. Lovejoy yelled and then sighed heavily trying to calm down. "You're overreacting."
"To that little bastard making sexual comments about my wife?! I'm not overreacting!"
"God Damn it, yes you are!" Sgt. Lovejoy took a deep breath and looked towards the window. He noticed the young boy seemed to be talking to the town sheriff and the site made Sgt. Lovejoy sigh heavily again. "If we get run out of town because of this, your ass is sleeping outside with the horses."
Lovejoy was expecting, upon entering the inn, to be approached by the sheriff about Peter's little outburst. Thankfully, they were only advised to not have a repeat of the incident and that was that. Though were it to happen again, the sheriff would personally escort them out of town and make them go their merry way. So Sgt. Lovejoy made yet another rather harsh plea with Peter to shut up and let him do the talking.
Renesmee stayed in Jacob's tent for a while. She felt fine, but she just didn't want to face anyone. She was certain they'd all heard what happened and she had a nagging feeling they wouldn't be too pleased to see that she was still there considering all the fuss she'd made. She'd not been expecting to see anyone except Jacob and Caevia. She was surprised when, the next day after she woke up, she was visited by Jacob's mother. She came to the tent early in the morning holding something in her arms and sat down next to Renesmee to feel her forehead.
"You still seem feverish, but Sokajili said that was normal for you."
"She said you still feel hot but Sokajili say its normal," Jacob translated.
"Sokajili said it is normal," Renesmee corrected.
"Sokajili said its normal," Jacob rephrased. Renesmee turned her attention back to Sara.
"I'm sorry," she began, but she wasn't sure how to finish. "About the fuss I caused."
"She's referring to her running away and getting sick. She's trying to apologize for causing trouble."
"You told her it's no trouble at all I assume?"
"I did," Jacob affirmed. "But she still feels terrible."
"I heard from Caevia she's planning not to run anymore," Sara changed the subject.
"That's what she said," Jacob said with a smile.
"I'm happy to hear it. I'll try seeing about making everyone warm up to her. Ordering them to like her won't make them like her, Jacob. It'll have to be done through reintroduction and gentle persuasion."
"Even that won't be enough by the looks of it," Jacob muttered. "They better get used to her, though. If she ever…."Jacob was almost scared to utter the possibility. He feared if he said it out loud, he'd be jinxing it. "If she loves me as much as I love her and she marries me one day, she'll be wife to the chief."
"Again, instilling fear doesn't instill love. It's just a simple fact of human nature." Sara then returned her attention back to Renesmee and suddenly hugged her. "I'm pleased to see you're feeling better." Sara released Renesmee and looked her in the eye as she handed Renesmee what she'd brought with her into the tent. "Welcome home, Renesmee." Sara chose then to leave Renesmee and Jacob alone. Renesmee unfolded the leather and saw that it was a new dress for her to wear.
"What did she say?" Renesmee asked when Sara was gone.
"She said she's pleased you're better and she welcomed you home."
"She welcomed me home?" she repeated.
"Yeah. She likes you," Jacob said.
"At least someone does I suppose," Renesmee answered.
Even though Jacob reminded her that he liked her, that still didn't really alleviate the fact that she was an outcast. Besides Jacob, Caevia was Renesmee's only regular visitor. She'd never felt banished like this, not even when the Volturi came attempting to call her an abomination. At least she wasn't getting the silent treatment then and she was accepted rather readily when Alice produced proof that she wasn't anything to be scared of in the form of Nahuel and his aunt Huilen. This was something completely different. Vampires aren't scared of her, so they never shunned her. At worst, they were intrigued and wanted to follow her around to basically study her. The Quileute, on the other hand, largely avoided her like the plague. First it was because she's a pale face and they don't trust. Now it was that coupled with the discovery of her being half vampire leaving them frightened of her and for their safety. It wasn't like she was very integrated into society wherever she and her family moved, but at least she was liked wherever she went. Here, she was an outcast and it made her feel more like a prisoner. Not being able to fully understand their language on top of all that had her feeling paranoid. The people could be planning to attempt to kill her or force her from town and she wouldn't know what was happening until it was too late. Jacob was the one that eventually insisted that Renesmee come out of his tent with him and sit with his mother while she, Caevia, and the others worked on daily chores. Renesmee expected Caevia to be the only one that spoke to her. She expected comments to be said and that Caevia or Sara would likely come to her defense. She didn't expect the harsh and obvious silent treatment. They didn't even make snarky comments about her and somehow the silence was worse than the degrading remarks. At least degrading remarks meant she was worth talking about.
"How have you and Embry been?" Renesmee asked Caevia while she helped scrub some leather on a stone.
"Wonderful," Caevia answered. "I'm already late." Renesmee stopped what she was doing and looked right at Caevia, who had a cocky grin on her face as if she'd just won a fortune.
"Already? Are you sure? It's only been a few weeks hasn't it?"
"Positive," Caevia said proudly. "Though through unfortunate means, I've grown very familiar with my signs of pregnancy and all the signs are there. I'm going to tell Embry tonight. I don't know if the tribe has specific protocol for announcing a pregnancy, so you're the only one I've told thus far."
"Oh, Caevia," Renesmee said with a high pitch and a smile before hugging her tightly. "I'm so happy for you. I know Embry will leap with pride when he hears the news."
"He will," Caevia smiled. The two ignored the other women staring at them as they hugged and continued their banter of excitement.
Meanwhile, some of the children were in the woods playing together, climbing trees, catching frogs at the creeks and chasing each other around. Among the children was Claire and she was the youngest of the group. One may argue that she'd invited herself into playtime with her older brother, Yaloweih, and his friends, but such details could be ignored when coupled with their merriment during playtime. They'd entered the woods that morning trying to avoid chores and were still there when it was approaching the middle of the day. When they were farther in the woods than they knew they were allowed to go, that's when they heard a sudden gunshot. All the kids ducked except Claire. She'd never heard that sound before and she thought it might be a strange animal she'd never heard before. She began to approach the sound, but she felt her brother grab her wrist.
"What's the matter with you? Get down!" he whispered loudly and Claire did as her brother instructed. Several of Yaloweih's friends had begun running away to return to the village and the ones that remained were trying to quietly do the same. Then suddenly, they heard another gunshot and the deer that had been hit fell before their feet. Claire let out a scream that her brother attempted to cover, but enough had escaped that their position was given away. The friends that remained began to run and told Claire and her brother to do the same. The one that produced the gunshot came forward after his kill with a large floppy-eared dog by his side barking loudly once it saw Claire and her brother.
"Get back!" the man yelled as he pointed his gun.
Claire and Yaloweih were stiff with fear. Her brother did eventually gain the sense to begin stepping back, but out of panic on his own part, the man with the gun interpreted the movement as hostile and shot Yaloweih on his left shoulder narrowly avoiding his heart. The boy fainted from the pain and landed to the ground without a sound. Claire, on the other hand, screamed a blood curdling scream and that scared the gunman even more. So he shot Claire, but this bullet hit her in the chest to her right and she screamed again. With Claire on the ground screaming and crying, the gunman hurried to grab his kill and run away before any more Indians showed up.
The gunfire was heard from the village and there was an instant panic as people ran from outside and went to their tents while Jacob, Embry and Quil came forward facing where the sounds had come. Moments later another gunshot followed, but by then, Claire's mother and two other moms were running around looking for their kids. When a scream came from the woods, Quil's eyes shot open and he started running. Another scream came after that and this one didn't stop. Quil and the others ran as fast as they could towards the screams and were there in a matter of minutes, passing young boys as they went that were running in the opposite direction towards the village. They finally found Claire and Yaloweih both lying on the ground. Yaloweih wasn't making a sound, but Claire was still crying and squealing.
"Claire!" Quil yelled when he saw the two.
"Quil," the little girl said through high pitched cries and heavy tears.
"Embry," Jacob said suddenly, "Carry Yaloweih back. Quil, you take Claire. I'll run ahead and tell Sokajili what happened."
Jacob ran ahead as Quil and Embry carefully lifted both children onto their backs so they could get them back to the village safely. Renesmee and Caevia were in Jacob's tent with the leather door open when Jacob came running back yelling for Sokajili. As Quil and Embry approached with the kids, Renesmee smelled the blood and gun powder and realized both kids had been shot. She'd been in Sokajili's tent, seen his tools, and she knew he wasn't prepared to treat such a serious and lethal injury. The slightest error could mean infection and inevitable death no matter where the wound was. Renesmee bolted out of the tent about the same time Claire's mother and father came out when they saw their children. Claire's mother was screaming her children's names and she assumed the worst when she saw Renesmee running towards them.
"Keep that thing away from my babies! They're suffering enough!" The woman screamed.
"Jacob!" Renesmee yelled when she was close enough. Jacob took a hold of her suddenly and tried pulling her away. She realized he thought she was about to attack the children and got angry, trying to break free. "Jacob let go of me!"
"Don't hurt them, Renesmee, please!" Jacob yelled.
"I won't hurt them Jacob, I'm trying to help them. Sokajili isn't prepared to heal a bullet wound but I know how to do it!" Jacob loosened his grip and she got away. The children were already in Sokajili's tent with the mother and father when Renesmee managed to free herself.
"You can help them?"
"Yes, Jacob, I can. I just need a few things."
"What do you need?" Jacob asked, eager to allow her to help. Renesmee knew he wouldn't understand any of what she was about to tell him if she said it, so she walked up to him and placed her hand on his wrist. She showed him gauze and verbalized the word in her head of what they were called. Then she showed Jacob the image of a whiskey bottle. She needed that do disinfect the wound. She showed him thread he could obtain anywhere so long as he looked carefully. Needles where already available, so she left that part out. She'd get someone else to grab her one of those. And finally, she showed Jacob the image of a medical prod that was used to heat to high temperatures to seal wounds.
"Can you find me all that?"
"Yes," Jacob answered.
"If you run to Forks, you'll be able to find those things. Just make sure that you're not caught. It'll only exacerbate the issue."
"What does exacerbate mean?"
"It means to make things worse. Hurry, and bring Leah with you. She'll be able to help."
"Alright," Jacob said before running to look for Leah.
Renesmee ran back to Jacob's tent to grab Caevia so she would have a helping hand and someone to explain what she was going to do. Jacob was passing them with Leah on Jacob's back. They didn't have any time to waste and he needed to run much faster and longer than what Leah was capable of. He made sure to tell Embry and Quil that Renesmee could help and to ensure she was able to do what she needed to do once she had the necessary supplies. Renesmee and Caevia came into Sokajili's tent and were met with Claire's and Yaloweih's mother demanding that they get Renesmee away from her babies. Embry stepped forward, since Quil was focused entirely on Claire while she whimpered and cried, and told their mother that Renesmee knew what to do and could help.
"I don't care what shesaysshe can do! That monster almost killed Leah! I won't let her kill my babies!"
"Padokeiki!"Sokajili yelled at the children's mother,"These are wounds I cannot fix. Renesmee is their only hope of living through this. Now step back and let her do what she has to so your babies will live!" Padokeiki persisted, so Embry was forced to make her and her husband leave the tent, though it wasn't without fervent opposition.
"Caevia," Renesmee said, "boil some water for me." Caevia nodded and got to work on the water.
Sokajili saw it best to stand back and watch Renesmee work. He'd known of gunshot wounds, of course, but this would be the first time he would see them treated and possibly lived through. Once the water was boiling, she had Caevia clean away some blood from Yaloweih's wound while Renesmee tore the section of Claire's dress so she could get to hers and clean away the blood. Once that was done, they had to wait until Jacob returned with the things Renesmee needed. In the meantime, she asked Caevia to find her a needle she could use to close the wounds once they were done. Jacob and Leah finally came back with all the things Renesmee had asked for. She told Jacob to grab her a large bowl and when he came back with it, she poured the whiskey into the bowl and the noxious smell of strong moonshine filled the tent and it had a few, including Renesmee, gagging. Once the alcohol was in the bowl, Renesmee threw all her tools and small sections of gauze into the liquid and allowed them to soak a moment.
"Caevia put that prod into the fire so it can get hot. Don't pull it out until it's orange."
"Alright." Caevia placed the sharp part of the prod into the fire so it could heat up. They continued to ignore Claire's and Yaloweih's parents as they yelled from outside. Embry and Jacob stayed outside to make sure no one could get in so Renesmee could work.
"We'll take care of the boy last. We have to wait until that gets hot so we can close the gash immediately after getting out the bullet. Hand me the knife," Renesmee said.
Caevia handed her the knife that had been soaking in the whiskey. Renesmee cleaned Claire's wound with the hot water one more time before telling Caevia to give Claire something to bite down on and made Quil hold Claire down. Caevia continued to translate as she followed Renesmee's instructions. With a piece of wood in Claire's mouth and Quil holding her down, Renesmee proceeded to reach into the wound to remove the bullet and it caused Claire to scream louder than before. Her parent's yells became more vehement, but Jacob and Embry managed to keep them back. With the bullet removed, Renesmee poured some whiskey in the hole and it made Claire cry more. She examined the wound to see if the bullet punctured anything important, but thankfully Claire had a rather simple injury and Renesmee was able to just sew it up and that was finally the end of it.
"It's okay, Claire," Renesmee said. "It's finally done." Caevia translated what Renesmee said before she went to the fire to check the prod. It was bright yellow/orange, meaning it was ready. Renesmee took the prod out of the fire and handed it to Caevia. "I'm going to remove the bullet. Once I have it out, I want you to apply the heat so he won't lose any blood. Got it?"
"Got it," Caevia nodded.
With Caevia's affirmation, Renesmee told Embry to hold Yaloweih down and then proceeded to extract the bullet. Yaloweih regained consciousness and began screaming as Renesmee forced out the bullet. Once she got out the bullet, some blood gushed before Caevia managed to force the prod into the wound and seal it, making Yaloweih scream louder. The boy was crying by the time Renesmee poured alcohol on the wound and sewed it up, but once it was closed, Renesmee patted Yaloweih on the head and offered the same reassurance that it was finally over. Renesmee finished both procedures by wringing out the remaining alcohol in the gauze she'd soaked and placing them over each child's bullet wound then wrapping the dry gauze around them in order to keep the dressing secure.
"Let them know that I'll need to replace these every couple of days," Renesmee said to Caevia, who proceeded to tell the children as close a translation as Caevia was able. Carrying the large bowl of blood and whiskey, Renesmee stepped out of the tent and narrowly avoided getting pushed to the ground by the children's parents as they ran into the tent. She went to a fire pit and Jacob followed her. She poured the remnants of the alcohol and blood into the fire pit and worked on some sticks until she was able to ignite the booze. It went up in a large blaze when it did and she stepped away so it could burn.
"Will they be okay?" Jacob asked.
"They'll be alright," Renesmee said. "We cleaned the injuries soon enough that they won't suffer infection."
"Infection?"
"It's when the wound gets contaminated and halts the healing process. That's what usually leads to death when dealing with a gunshot. During the Civil War, it would take the doctors so long to get to a patient that the leg or arm was completely unsalvageable."
"I don't understand," Jacob said. "What is 'halt'? What does contamination and unsalvageable mean? And what is the Civil War?" Renesmee smiled as she looked at Jacob. She was impressed he was able to specifically tell her what in the sentence he'd not understood.
"Halt is the German word for stop. Contamination refers to when something is no longer clean and it causes intense pain to an injured person and can also cause death. Unsalvageable means something can't be saved or repaired. The Civil War was a fight between the north and south of the United States concerning Southern retaliation and it inevitably became largely due to slave culture in the south. The north won eventually. The war was long done by the time I was born, but its effects are still looming. I've seen countless men in my years with missing legs and arms due to a bullet wound that hadn't been taken care of properly so the doctors had no choice but to cut off the leg." Renesmee noticed Jacob cringe. "My Uncle Carlisle would tell me horror stories of doctors that had no credentials, that is they had no experience as doctors and no training, treating patients."
"Sounds bad," Jacob said. "How is your Uncle able to be a doctor? He's a vampire isn't he?" Jacob looked at Renesmee unsurely. "It is vampire pale faces call them right?"
"Yes," Renesmee answered with a smile. "If you're willing to sit through a long story, I can tell you what made Uncle Carlisle decide to become a doctor." Jacob looked towards Sokajili's tent and saw the slew of people that had suddenly begun to surround it.
"Let's go back to my tent for that," Jacob suggested.
"After this fire goes down," Renesmee said.
"Why did you start burning that?"
"It kills all the bacteria in the blood and evaporates the alcohol."
"Please explain differently."
"This kills the bacteria, or contaminants, in the blood and on the tools I used. It also evaporates the alcohol, or makes it go away."
"Oh," Jacob said. It took a while for the fire to finally stop, but Jacob and Renesmee went to his tent once it had. Jacob tied the leather door and sat across from her with his legs crossed. "So your Uncle. How is he a doctor?"
"This may require visual aid," Renesmee mumbled a little. "My Uncle was born in England." Renesmee began to draw out a map. To put things into perspective, she made sure to draw the North American continent and then worked on Europe. When she'd finished that, she decided she'd make a geography lesson out of this and completed the map with the continent of Asia, Africa, Australia, South America and the North and South Poles. "England is here." Renesmee pointed at the larger island off the coast of Europe towards the north. "We're here," Renesmee said when she pointed at what was the state of Washington.
"It's so far away," Jacob commented.
"It is," Renesmee nodded. "Specifically, my Uncle was born in London, which is the capitol of England. A capitol is where all issues of government are centralized in and is typically the largest and most populated city. It's not the case for Illinois," Renesmee pointed at the spot where Illinois was on the map, "though. In Illinois, the capitol is Springfield," Renesmee pointed near the southern most part of the state to indicated Springfield, "but the center of commerce or the booming city of Illinois is Chicago." Renesmee pointed at Chicago.
"Please slow down," Jacob requested and it made Renesmee giggle a little.
"I'm sorry. Commerce just means it's a really big city with lots of people and businesses. Businesses are a method for trading goods."
"Oh, alright that makes sense."
"Good," Renesmee said cheerfully. "But back to England. As I said, Uncle Carlisle was born here," Renesmee pointed at England again. "He was son to a Pastor."
"What's a Pastor?"
"It's a religious figure. In this particular case it was the Protestant religion, which is just a branch of Christianity that's commonly practiced in England to this day."
"I don't understand," Jacob said. Renesmee took a deep breath and tried thinking of how to explain this. She assumed Jacob's people must have their own religious practices, but she didn't know what they were.
"Okay," Renesmee uttered. "I don't know how to explain this without just reading the bible to you."
"What's the Bible?"
"It's a religious document that maps out the history and ethics of the Christian religion."
"Ethics?"
"How a group of people are to worship God and how to behave in society."
"God?" Renesmee took a deep breath after that utterance.
"It's too complicated for now. I'll explain Christianity another day."
"Okay."
"Just understand that Carlisle's father was a religious figure that held authority in the church. I'll explain what all that means another time."
"Okay."
"Due to his father being a Pastor, he also took responsibility for hunting down witches and vampires."
"What are witches?"
"Witches are considered evil magic castors that are heretics."
"What's a heretic?" This time, Renesmee laughed a little.
"I'll explain when we have our religion talk. So anyway, Uncle Carlisle inevitably followed in his father's footsteps and took on the witch and vampire hunts. He was much better at it than his father had been and even found a coven of vampires that had taken to hiding in the sewers of London. Considering the sewage situation in London, especially during 1686, the vampires were none too happy about being forced to hide in human filth."
"What is a sewage?"
"It's where waste and garbage is kept."
"Okay," Jacob said.
"So Carlisle found them but no one was willing to go in after them. They couldn't burn them out either. It would've set the whole city ablaze. So he had the people wait them out and eventually one couldn't stand it anymore and came out to hunt. Carlisle and a band of people tried to attack the vampire and it ran. They'd lost the vampire, but kept going after him. They'd split up and eventually Carlisle was alone. It turns out the vampire had been silently picking them off one by one until he'd gotten to Carlisle. When he caught my Uncle, he changed him rather than kill him. He thought that was far more ironic and a much greater punishment than death."
"What does ironic mean?"
"It's usually an event or set of circumstances that are the opposite of what you were expecting to happen and as a result it's funny."
"You mean like me hating pale faces only to imprint on one?" Jacob asked and it made Renesmee blush a little.
"Yes, that's extremely ironic." Jacob smiled at her, but she broke eye contact with him and continued her story. "Once Carlisle was changed, he felt like a monster and went into hiding, trying to avoid drinking human blood until one day he realized he could feed on animals rather than humans. He learned to control his thirst and decided he wanted to become a doctor as a way of redeeming himself for the sin of being a monster."
"Redeeming?"
"It means forgiveness and a sin is something you're not supposed to do. It's another thing related to the topic of religion."
"So we'll talk about it another time?" Jacob joked. Renesmee finally smiled and nodded.
"Yes, we'll talk about it another time."
"So your Uncle became a doctor for redemption?"
"Yes. And I became a nurse because I learned so much from Carlisle that it seemed wrong not to be a nurse. I've worked at every hospital my Uncle has until I moved here."
"What is a nurse?"
"A nurse is a profession of the medical field given to women that want to practice medicine, but are unable to get the necessary schooling to become doctors. I can't get accepted into a school to become a doctor because I'm a woman, so I became a nurse instead."
"It's a good thing you did," Jacob said. "Claire and Yaloweih would've been lost without you."
"They're not better yet. It'll take time for them to heal completely."
"But they will," Jacob said confidently.
Renesmee waited until later that day before she went to Sokajili's tent to check on the children to see how they're doing. When she came into the tent, she wasn't met with nearly as much protest. She checked their temperatures and felt that they both had mild fevers. That was to be expected considering the day they'd had and she told Sokajili as much, or tried to at least. She ended up having to find Caevia so she could tell Sokajili what she needed to. When Renesmee walked away from the tent, she realized everyone in the village was staring at her. She just ignored them and went back to Jacob's tent and stayed there. That night, Caevia asked Embry to come to their tent before he went out on patrol so they could talk after the tribe all ate dinner together.
"Is something wrong?" Embry asked when they were alone.
"No, nothing's wrong. I have good news actually."
"What kind of good news?" Caevia smiled and scooted closer to Embry.
"I'm pregnant," she announced to him with their lips nearly touching. He looked stunned.
"Already? How do you know? Are you sure?"
"I know what to look for. Sickness and lightheadedness, trouble eating all of my food, bloating, it's all there. Also," Caevia lifted up her dress and pressed Embry's hand over the slightest little bump that was only there if he pressed hard enough.
"We're really having a baby?" Embry asked with a bright smile.
"Yes," Caevia answered as tears began to form. "I know after what happened today, this might not be a good time to tell you, but-"
"It will always be a good time," Embry said. "We'll wait to tell everyone until Claire and Yaloweih are better. But I'm happy." Embry grabbed Caevia into his arms and held her tight, kissing her neck. "I love you, Caevia."
"I love you too, Embry," Caevia said, crying now. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For making me a mother."
"Thank you for making me a father." Embry kissed Caevia on the lips and the two fell to the ground together and Embry didn't leave until they couldn't make love anymore.
At patrol, Jacob congratulated Embry for the discovery but agreed that it might be best to put off the announcement until the children were better. As Renesmee promised, she checked on Yaloweih and Claire regularly over the next three days, making sure they were healing and their fevers were breaking. By the third day, both children were completely back to normal save for the retched stinging and soreness of their bullet holes. After that third day, Renesmee gave the kids permission to leave the tent and move around again so long as they didn't overexert themselves because that might lead to the dressing to reopen. The next morning when Jacob returned to his tent from the nightly patrol, he saw Claire's and Yaloweih's parents approaching with a large buck. Jacob waited for them to be close enough to ask what they were doing and they requested to see Renesmee. Jacob went into his tent and gently woke up Renesmee.
"Claire's and Yaloweih's parents are outside. They want to speak with you."
"With me?" Renesmee asked through a drowsy haze. Jacob nodded and helped her up and out of the tent. When she was outside, Claire's and Yaloweih's parents kneeled down and placed the buck on the ground before Renesmee.
"You saved our children from certain death. Please accept this gift as a sign of our thanks," the father said. Jacob translated what he said and Renesmee was speechless. She looked up and saw all the other tribesman staring at her with welcoming smiles and she almost cried. Though apprehensive they might be repulsed, Renesmee kneeled down and drank the blood of the buck the couple had offered. When she was done and satisfied, she lifted her head up and took a deep satisfied breath.
"Thank you," Renesmee managed to say on her own. The couple smiled back at her and asked Jacob if, since she was finished with the buck, they could butcher it and get it ready for a feast that night. Jacob asked Renesmee if that was alright and she said she'd be happy to let them cook the buck.
The day was spent preparing the buck for an early dinner celebration. It began to snow as they worked, so all the fire pits and even the traditional wedding fire pit was lit in order to help everyone stay warm in the cold. The tribe insisted that Renesmee be integrated into the day's work and she was all too happy to help. Caevia stayed close to help translate when the need arose. Every part of the buck was used and the bones were kept to the side for later use, the fur put aside for the same reason. The skin was tightened accordingly so it could dry and be turned into clothing later. After all the food was prepared, everyone gathered around the wedding pyre and began to feast. There was dancing and merriment and Renesmee was finally allowed to really be a part of it. She was finally accepted into the tribe and it felt nice. It was the most accepted she'd ever been and she realized she was happy. When she'd been with her family, she really could never be a real part of society. Any friends she ever managed to make were short lived due to their constant moving. Now, she was seeing the possibility of lifelong friends besides just Caevia. As Jacob watched Renesmee dance with the people and look really happy, he felt a genuine hope. This, he knew, was what she'd really needed: acceptance. Now that she had that, she could be happy and inevitably, she could be happy with him.
