Hortons Bend

rather tenacious. The fifth area, Horton’s Bend, was also problematic but in a different way. The Horton family, whose residence in the county went back to its very beginnings, had long been known for being a rather odd group. They did not participate in community functions and were quite reserved. Unfriendly would be too strong of a word. They simply felt no need to reach out to others and it only took one visit to the farm to realize this fact. The Horton children, and there were few of them, were home schooled and upon maturity moved outside of Georgia. They returned from time to time with little fanfare. A rumor from nearby neighbors involved an unproven fact that every Horton child had married Native Americans. It did seem that most of them lived in North Carolina and in the Four Corners area.

    Barbara Peabody knew very little of the recent accomplishments of the river focus group but she was smart enough to deduce that the powers that be were conspiring against the Horton’s to persuade them to sell their property to the county. Naturally it had been a generous offer in the initial contact but still the offer was met with vehemence that had not been expected. Higher offers were considered but those who had approached the farm vowed not to return for this particular task. It had been unpleasant and proved to them that this piece of real estate would not be gained by conventional means. Whatever the committee was up to now could only be guessed but Barbara had been gently reminded that this portion of county affairs was not to be intruded in by her. She would speak with Brody and explain that complaints had been made regarding his archaeological inquiries. While she was in no way an archaeologist she knew their type often met with resistance due to their destructive work. Crops needed to be raised for family’s to make a living and farmers were not interested in working around other’s schedules. His investigations would have to be directed to other less sensitive areas in the county. She heard the rumble of that beast he drove pull into the parking lot. Now was the time to finish this annoying little quest of his.

    Chapter Five
    Samuel Horton came in from his fields to find his wife Ruby in deep thought. Horton had a deep understanding of his companion of 51 years. He knew every emotion she had ever experienced as he had stood beside her in their sorrow and joy. Ruby looked at her husband and knew she could not hide her worry. He walked over to the ever brewing coffee pot and poured himself a cup. He sat down at the kitchen table and put his cup to the side. He cupped her hands into his and asked her “Ruby I have sensed it also. We’ve made it this long and carried the load. This is not something that we direct but just something that is our duty. And that’s what we’ll continue to do as long as we live here.” His wife looked up and smiled. “I know Sam but I can’t remember having this feeling of dread. I recall it when we first arrived here. Those were some dark times and I worried about what we might….what we might….” She couldn’t finish her sentence and Samuel got up and put his arm around her. “There there it’s alright. We know they’re going to try again and we’ll be ready. You might remember that we were chosen to come here. Our commitment has been the reward in itself.” Ruby smiled at the old man and nodded. “We’ll be fine won’t we?” she asked and Samuel gave her a hug.

    Brody walked through the archaeology lab’s storage collection room using a handheld data collector. He had started the museum’s yearly inventory last month and wanted to make some progress this week. All of the permanent collections were stored in archival correct acid free boxes which had a bar code strip affixed to each box. The data collector read the bar code to confirm the inventory. It was dull work for his usually sharp mind but Brody’s mind was cloudy this Monday morning. He couldn’t help but regret the entire weekend. His argument with Lacy had left them both sore and they spoke very little except at dinner. His meeting with Mrs. King was another low point. He surely had not meant to upset her and realized maybe he should have listened to his wife. Perhaps then he might have used a different approach. Despite his lousy feeling he chuckled to himself when he thought “why can’t archaeologists get the greetings that firemen do?” It was because most archaeologists are either