Dishonoring Jack

Chapter Nineteen

 Donovan pulled Jack by the wrist out of the church into the night before she could protest. Her mind spun--the men Donovan knew were associated with Margaret? What sorts of lies and treachery had they spread? And what did they know about Donovan that terrified him so?

As soon as the door closed behind them, Jack tore her wrist from Donovan's grasp. "What in tarnation is going on?" she cried, her hands on her hips.

He owed her an explanation for the secrets he'd hidden so far, for their forced exit of the party, for the two men who filled him with such fear. Donovan started to pace before her, his hands at his temples.

"Those men, who are they? And why are they with Margaret Hunt?"

Donovan paused for a moment and looked at Jack with his eyebrows furrowed. "Margaret Hunt? Who is that?"

"The--the woman they were talking to," Jack sputtered, her face heating as she recalled the scandalous story Margaret had recounted. She hadn't told him about Roy, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to. "She was spreading lies and gossip about us both. What is the meaning of all this, Donovan?" Jack approached him and reached for his arm, tugging on it. "Please, just tell me. You know I'll believe you."

Donovan hesitated, craning his neck back and staring up at the sky. "Let's go home," he finally said. "I can't tell you here."

"Just-"

"Jack, please. It's too--I can't risk someone overhearing, and I can't be near them any more." He cast a murderous glare at the church where the two dark haired men remained.

Jack wanted to protest, but she was tired and overwhelmed. Part of her wanted to fly at him with her fists and beat him into a confession, but she knew that he deserved her respect and attention.

"Fine."

Donovan's car was parked down the street, and they walked there and climbed inside in silence, neither touching the other or muttering a word. Jack wanted to trust him, but the look on his face when he saw the men concerned her. What had they done to Donovan? Or what had he done to them? Why had they labelled him a criminal?

They arrived back at Jack's house just as the sun finally disappeared beyond the distant horizon and they walked inside without a word. Jack started a fire in the hearth and stood beside it with her arms crossed.

"So, tell me," Jack said. "What is it that frightens you so? Who are those men?"
Donovan paced in front of her, the flickering flames lighting only one side of his face, his sharp jaw and ferocious eyes. "The Powhatan reservation, where I grew up. I left there as a young man and moved to Boston, but I left behind my older brother and his wife and son. His name was Willie--Ahanu was his Powhatan name, what I called him at home." Donovan struggled to breathe for a moment and Jack longed to touch him and soothe away his worries, but she needed to keep a clear head.

"What does he have to do with those men?"
"He--they--the Indian Commission has been trying to take the land from our reservation for years. They took our land and now they want to take our houses and our livelihoods. My brother, he had his own individual allotment so they had to buy him out individually. They want to sell the land to commercial businesses--Slate Manufacturing. They want to sell us out."

"Are they--do you have land there?"

"Not me, my brother. Ahanu had a plot of land, barely enough to sustain his family. And they wanted it."

Jack studied Donovan for a moment. He stilled in the middle of the room and closed his eyes, and Jack tried to understand. His brother was dead--they wouldn't, they couldn't have?