Divided Hearts

Chapter 1-2

“McGee, just McGee.” Robert remembered that first meeting well. “Don’t see no need for ‘nother name. Least-aways not out here,” the big man said, eyeing Robert with what looked like a bit of suspicion. He then turned and walked back to the forge where he was heating a set of horseshoes to be applied to the chestnut gelding that stood dozing in the cross ties.

Robert had shifted uncomfortably under the man’s gaze. He felt better now that he had turned away. The young man had an idea of why he had been regarded with caution. Being half Algonquin of the Wampanoag tribe had been both a blessing and a curse on the trip from Boston. If their traveling companions discovered his heritage, he was often treated with contempt. The threat of raids by the local Indians was always around them and he was looked on with suspicion. On the other hand, on more than one occasion, when they were confronted by the natives, his recall of sign language, as well as some lingering knowledge of his first language, had helped them to avoid some unpleasantness.

“Well, Mr. McGee,” Nathaniel began.

“No need for a mister, neither,” McGee said turning back again. “I’m just plain old ugly McGee.” He sort of chuckled under his breath.

Robert didn’t agree with McGee’s assessment of himself. True, he wasn’t a beauty, but he had rugged good looks often seen on the Ohio frontier. He stood taller than Robert and that was saying something, as the youth towered over most men. He had soft blue eyes, which contradicted his brusque and burly manner. His barrel chest and massive arms, however, fit the image of a frontier blacksmith, as did his full red beard.

“Well, then…McGee,” Nathaniel tried again, “I have a letter of introduction here,” he held out the paper for McGee to see, “from Mr. Harrison of Boston. He was our emp…”

“Humph, fat lot a good that’ll do ya. Can’t read a word of it. ‘Sides, I don’t know no Harrison.”

Nathaniel looked from McGee to Robert who shrugged slightly. The gesture was not lost on the blacksmith. “You kin read it to me, or, just save us all a hell of a lot a time, tell me what this Harrison fella wants with me.” With that he folded his arms across his chest and sat down on his anvil. The horse behind him shifted his weight from one resting back foot to the other and sighed.

“Alright,” Nathaniel continued. “Robert and I…”

“Robert, huh?” McGee interrupted again, “funny name for a half breed.” Once again the young man received that suspicious look.

I thought so, Robert said to himself. He didn’t blame the man for his caution. The Indians of this area, especially the Mingo and the Seneca, had been especially problematic for the British army and settlers moving into their territory.

“McGee,” Nathaniel said loudly as he stepped between Robert and the smith. “Robert is an upstanding citizen and my friend as well as my apprentice. Whether or not he has Indian blood makes no difference in his character.” Robert was caught off guard by this show of protection, but pleased at the same time. “I will thank you to keep your opinions about Indians…”

McGee roared with laughter, drowning out Nathaniel’s words in Robert’s defense.

“Keep your powder dry…what’d ya say yer name was?”

“Morgan, Nathaniel Morgan.”

“Morgan eh? Well, Morgan, I ain’t got nothing against the youngster for being what he is. Hell, half o’ them English bastards in the garrison won’t talk to me none cuz I’m half an Irishman. Now, if we kin jus get on with this interducting stuff, I don’t know how long this here nag is gonna stand waiting for his shoes to be done.”

Robert smiled at the man, who winked back at him. I am going to like him after all, he thought.

Nathaniel, looking a bit sheepish for his outburst, began, “Robert and I…” He paused, looking like he half expected McGee to interrupt again. “Robert and I worked for Mr. Harrison for a short time in Boston. I am a cooper. Robert is my apprentice.”

“A cooper, huh?” said McGee leaning forward and looking interested.

“Yes,” Nathaniel continued. “We are looking to settle here in The Ohio Country and offer our services as coopers to the army and settlers.”

McGee stood up and walked forward. “Come with me,” he said. Walking between the two men, he motioned for them to follow, which they did after exchanging puzzled looks. The smith led them outside and around the back of the livery into a dark, low shed. When Robert’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw pile upon pile of barrels, casks and kegs in need of repair. McGee gestured to the pile and said. “How soon kin ya start?”

Robert looked at Nathaniel and they both laughed. “Right now,” Nathaniel said. “Is that soon enough for you?”

McGee came forward and put a massive arm around each of their necks, drawing them against his chest and gave them a sort of hug. “Good. I’m no good at repairin’ barrels. I got me enough work for two smiths as it is.”

“Just let us get our tools and gear. We will settle in and get to work,” said Nathaniel brightly. McGee released the hold he had on them and they stood.

“Where ya stayin’?” McGee asked as they came out of the shed into the bright late morning spring sunshine.

“In the troops’ quarters in Fort Duquesne,” Robert offered. These were the first words he had spoken since they had met McGee.

“Oh, so ya speak English, do ya?” the big man said with a side-glance at Nathaniel and a wink at Robert..

“Ah yes, and he can dance and sing, too,” Nathaniel said, cottoning on to McGee’s humor.

“Ho,” Robert broke in, “you make me sound like a trained monkey.”

They all laughed.

“Well, them quarters gotta be cramped and not too private. I got me a extra room behind the shop. Ain’t fancy, but if you want, you could stay there. Closer to work and all.”

“I think we would like that,” replied Nathaniel, sounding like he was accepting the offer. He looked toward Robert, who nodded his assent.

“That’s settled then. Go git yer stuff. I gotta git to that horse before he goes to sleep and falls inta the forge.”

* * * *

Robert was roused from his reverie when Nathaniel got up from his chair and walked to the window. He watched as Nathaniel stared out into the gathering dusk. He rose and went to stand beside him. Placing his hand on his shoulder, he tried, as always, to let Nathaniel know he was there and would help him through whatever was happening.

Nathaniel turned his head and looked up into Robert’s eyes. Robert could see pain and deep sadness etched there. Nathaniel reached up and laid his hand on Robert’s and squeezed. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“You know I will always be here.”

“Of course I do.” Nathaniel squeezed his shoulder again. He turned to Robert. Robert enfolded him in his arms. They stood together for several moments. Then Nathaniel broke the embrace.

“I need to be alone for awhile.”

“I understand,” said Robert, although he wasn’t sure that he did. Whatever was in that letter must be very upsetting to his friend.

Nathaniel got his coat and walked out the door of their cabin into the gathering darkness. Robert stared at the closed door. He remembered another time when he had been left behind as Nathaniel struggled with his emotions after receiving a letter from Massachusetts.