White Flame

by Susan Edwards

  Renny stuck her head out of the window and, after a few seconds, plopped back on the seat. “It’s so boring just sitting here.” She gave Emma a sulky glance. “I bet Captain Sanders would let me ride up with the driver.”

  Emma begged the heavens for patience then adopted a no-nonsense look similar to the one her aunt had used. “Young ladies ride inside coaches. Besides, the captain’s men do not need to listen to your constant prattle.”

  Renny crossed her arms across her thin chest and tucked her hands beneath her arms. Her jaw jutted out. “Aw, Emma—”

  The young girl closed her mouth when Emma lifted one brow in warning. The two sisters sat in silence for several miles before Renny drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. “Emma? Will Father be angry with us?”

  Emma kept her features carefully schooled in an expression of indifference for her sister’s sake. Grady O’Brien would likely be extremely angry, but she vowed to make sure his displeasure was directed toward her and not at Renny. She reached across the coach to pat her sister reassuringly on the knee. “Everything will be fine. Now, no more worrying.”

  Renny’s lower lip trembled. “Father hates me.”

  “Ranait! What a thing to say. Father does not hate you.”

  Tears came into the nine-year-old’s eyes. “Yes, he does! It’s my fault Mama died. Jillyanne said so. That’s why he went away and never came back. He blames me.”

  Renny’s distress and quavering voice nearly broke Emma’s heart. “Oh, Renny, don’t say such a thing.” Fury engulfed Emma. Jillyanne, several years older than Renny, was never happy unless she was making others miserable. And the girl’s mother wasn’t any better. A snob and gossip, she had nothing better to do than spread vicious lies. But anger wouldn’t help her sister now. Once again, Emma wondered if this trip would make things worse. Was she setting her sister up for a worse disappointment? Did Grady O’Brien truly blame his younger daughter for their mother’s death?

  Staring into the eyes across from her, Emma knew Renny favored their mother in most of her features. Though Renny’s eyes were a bluish-gray, her mouth, nose and hair color marked her as their mother’s daughter. But the girl’s eyes were her father’s.

  Clicking her fan open, Emma pulled from her memory an image of a tall man who’d been kind, gentle and loving. She recalled the bedtime stories, the kisses good-night, twinkling bluish-gray eyes and always, a tickle to the tummy that left her giggling as sleep claimed her. What was he like now? From his letters, she envisioned a stern and forbidding military man who was all business.

  Emma sighed. Their aunt had always been able to reassure her nieces that their father wanted to be there but couldn’t because of his military commitments. But when Aunt Ida died, Renny’s secure little world had shattered. Nothing Emma said could convince her that she, Emma, would always be there for her. Renny wanted her father.

  Her sister’s hurt and confused voice brought Emma back from her contemplations. “Then why did he leave us? Why hasn’t he been back to see us? He didn’t even come to Auntie’s funeral,” she accused.

  Emma sighed. They’d been over this more times than she could count. She gentled her voice. “You know very well he didn’t learn about it until three months ago. Sometimes our letters take a very long time to reach him. Enough now. We’ll see Father soon.” She deliberately changed the topic of conversation. “I’ve been thinking. Perhaps we can buy a couple of horses when we return. Would you like that?”

  “Truly?” Renny breathed, her eyes bright with longing.

  Emma nodded.

  Renny clapped her hands. “I can’t wait to see Papa and tell him I’m to have my very own horse.”

  Holding on to the side of the coach, Renny balanced on her knees and asked, “Em, are you going to marry Captain Sanders?”

  The sudden change of topic and mood so characteristic of the energetic child caught Emma off guard. “Ranait, mind your manners! I hardly know the man. He simply agreed to take us to the fort.” Her voice sounded sharper than she’d intended.

  “Well, I like him. He’s got horses.” Again, Renny shifted positions, this time to sit on her knees and peer out the window. “I see him.” She waved.

  Emma wasn’t sure how she felt about Derek Sanders. Part of her thrilled to his attentions, yet she was afraid to let herself hope for his affection. Many other suitors had balked when they had found out that marriage to her meant taking on Renny.

  Hiding her lower face behind her fan, Emma allowed herself a smug grin when she recalled several times that the prospect of raising Renny had sent less-than-desirable prospective suitors running. She sighed. Maybe, maybe this time, it would be different. Hope stirred deep inside her heart. Derek had made his intentions clear, even if he was getting rather pushy about it. Perhaps she’d give him a chance. She did find him attractive. Catching sight of his broad shoulders as he rode past, she waved the fan a bit faster.

  Renny continued to bounce around. Emma drew her brows together in her sternest glare and snapped her fan closed. “Renny, do sit still. Young ladies don’t squirm and wiggle about.” As usual, her reprimand fell on deaf ears. The girl’s youthful energy knew no bounds.

  “Ranait!”

  “Oh, Emma, you sound just like Aunt Ida.” Renny flounced back against the leather seat with a pout. But a half hour later, the young girl’s eyes grew heavy and drifted shut.

  Grateful for the blessed silence, Emma closed her eyes and despite the jarring ride, she too dozed, dreaming about the handsome captain. She woke hours later when the coach came to a standstill.

  Glancing out of the window, she saw Derek approaching. When the door opened, she sighed in relief. “Are we stopping for the night?”

  He nodded and held out his gloved hand. Emma gratefully accepted his assistance from the torturous confines of the coach. Renny jumped down on her own, wide-awake and chittering like a magpie.

  Leaving the men to set up camp, Emma walked down to the river, easing the tightness from her legs and back. After finding some concealing bushes to take care of her needs, she went to the water’s edge and knelt down to splash the cool, revitalizing water on her face and neck. She rubbed her aching shoulders, longing for a nice hot soak in a tub. She was sick of traveling. Sick of wearing the same dress.

  She brushed at the dirt and wrinkles lining her green dress, but it didn’t help. Now she wished she’d kept more than two changes of clothing with her, but she hadn’t expected further delays. Sitting back on her heels, she tried to still her impatience. This whole trip had been fraught with delays from the very beginning. What was another day or two?

  Enjoying her solitude, she luxuriated in the peace and quiet. Across the river, a flock of birds hidden in the treetops took to the air in wild chattering flight. Her tired gaze lowered to the deep shadows across the river. She let out a sharp gasp when Indians on horseback emerged from the shadows. Frightened by their sudden appearance, Emma jumped to her feet, picked up her skirts and ran back to camp.

  “Derek!” Her voice squeaked with fright. “Look!” Pointing, she pulled his arm, interrupting his conversation with two of his men.

  Derek took one look at the approaching visitors and swore. He pulled her behind him. “What the hell does he want?” He signaled his men. Rifles were drawn.

  “You know him?” Emma’s voice quavered when one of the savages dismounted and approached. The other four remained on horseback a short distance away.

  Derek kept his gaze trained on the approaching Indian. “I know him. Wait here.” He handed her over to a young private named Edmond who stepped in front of her, his body shielding hers. Another soldier joined them.

  Nervous and afraid, Emma glanced around. Renny, where was she? She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted the child surrounded by three soldiers, all of whom had their rifles trained on the group of intruders. She returned her attention to Derek and the Indian. Fear trailed down her spine. What did these savages want? Seconds ticked into long, ago
nizing minutes. Emma peeked between her two guards’ shoulders at the rag-tag group of Natives.

  Never had she seen such a frightening sight. Their hair hung down over their shoulders in dull, stringy strands and their bodies bore several days’ worth of dirt and grime. Faced with such sinister-looking savages, she dearly regretted leaving the comparative safety of the Annabella.

  But she didn’t have time to bemoan the vulnerable position in which she’d put herself and Renny. Heated shouts filled the air as an argument broke out between Captain Sanders and the warrior. When the fierce-looking savage glanced at her and pointed, she shivered, instinctively sensing that he wanted her.

  Derek shook his head, his hand going to the pistol he wore around his waist. After a final spat of words, the angry warrior mounted his horse. With a harsh shout, he shook his fist in the air and glared at them through hate-filled eyes. Emma breathed a sigh of relief when he rode off.

  After the Indians crossed the river and melded into the lengthening shadows, Derek rejoined her. “It’s all right, Miss Emma. They’re gone.” He reached for her and drew her into his arms.

  Instead of feeling comforted by his embrace, a feeling of suffocation assailed her. Derek’s bold attentions since leaving the steamboat had grown from flattering to tedious, increasing to the point where she felt uncomfortable and rushed. She didn’t understand her conflicting emotions. She pulled free but, not wanting to hurt his feelings, laid a trembling hand on his arm. “What did they want?”

  “Not to worry, Miss Emma. Just a bunch of beggars. I sent them away. They won’t bother us again.”

  “Are you sure? Why was he pointing at me?”

  Derek patted her hand then carried her fingers to his lips. “My dear, these are savages. They probably haven’t seen a white woman before. Now, don’t worry none. I won’t allow anything to happen to the woman I hope to marry soon. Trust me, Emma. I’ll take good care of you.”

  Emma hid her impatience at his assumptions. She hated feeling helpless and dependent on Derek, but until they reached the fort, both her life and Renny’s rested in his hands. Though she felt far from reassured, she forced a smile. “Thank you, Captain. I do appreciate all you’ve done for us.”

  She turned to go, but Derek pulled her back to him. His hands cupped her face. His head lowered.

  “Captain!” Her voice rose in panic.

  “Derek,” he breathed. “Say it, Emma. Let me hear you say my name.”

  Emma planted her hands against his chest, fearful of the underlying tension she felt in him. “Derek,” she complied.

  Satisfied, Derek smiled and touched her lips briefly with his. “You have no idea what you do to me, Emma.” His hooded gaze drifted down to the tailored fit of her bodice. “I want you. When we arrive at Fort Pierre, I will ask your father’s permission to wed you. Then you’ll be mine—forever.” Derek took her by the arm and led her away from the rest of the soldiers. “Now, why don’t you rest while my men see to supper?” Shaken and uneasy by what felt like a threat more than a declaration of intent or love, Emma called Renny to her and gladly made her escape into their tent.

  As soon as the tent flap closed behind Emma, Derek posted his men around the temporary camp, then went to the one remaining soldier tending the horses. Gus, a simple boy around nineteen, was one of the soldiers Derek could trust to do whatever he ordered. “Keep your eyes open. I don’t trust Yellow Dog. He’s getting greedy. I’m putting you in charge of the colonel’s daughters. I don’t want anything to happen to them.” Derek knew the boy would die protecting the girls if he ordered it.

  “Wha’d he want?”

  “Guns,” Derek scoffed. His gaze hardened. And Emma, he added mentally. Slightly uneasy, he studied the camp, calculating their weakest positions.

  “Guns? You ain’t gonna give him any more, are you?” Gus looked horrified.

  Only paying slight attention to Gus, Derek scowled. In his distraction, his voice lost the refined quality he strove hard to maintain. Long ago, he’d vowed to leave poverty behind forever and live the life of a gentleman. “Hell, no. I’m no fool.”

  “Why’s he after payment so soon? We jest gave him a bunch of stuff. Even had to give him my pa’s old huntin’ knife,” the young soldier grumbled.

  “Yeah, well, seems he decided to kill some chief’s squaw instead of just harassing the Sioux like I paid him to do. Now he wants guns to protect himself.”

  Gus sent a worried glance over his shoulder. “Cap’n, we didn’t pay him to do no killin’—especially not some chief’s squaw.”

  Derek stared out toward the distant hills on the far horizon. He twirled one end of his moustache into a sharp point. His plan had been for Yellow Dog to seem that he was under the colonel’s orders to drive out the Sioux, which was why he’d given Yellow Dog the colonel’s silver belt buckle as payment. He knew the renegade Indian would brag about his prize and importance.

  His voice was thoughtful as he smoothed his moustache with his thumb and forefinger. “Maybe Yellow Dog did us a favor. This should rile the Sioux enough to attack the fort. Then that damn Indian-loving colonel will have to take action and get rid of them.”

  Gus scratched his greasy brown hair and looked confused for a moment, then he grinned, revealing a mouthful of rotting teeth. “If they attacks us, we gets to attack them, and if we does, then we gets their women. Right, Cap’n?”

  Derek shook his head at the boy’s eagerness. It was a mystery to him how the boy had survived his stint in the army, but that very naiveté and eagerness to please made Gus a valuable asset. All it took to keep Gus loyal was an occasional lay with a willing or unwilling squaw.

  He lowered his voice. “Right. I’ll even give you first choice. Now, not a word. If anyone finds out our plans, they’ll take all the young maidens and leave you the old wrinkled ones.”

  Gus frowned. Derek gave him a none-too-gentle shove. “Get to your post, soldier. We don’t want the others to get suspicious, do we?”

  “No, sir.” Grinning ear to ear, Gus dashed off to stand guard at Emma’s tent.

  Hands on his hips, Derek watched him. Little did the boy know, there was much more at stake than rutting with a bunch of women. Sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants, he fingered the remaining gold nugget he’d taken from a widowed squaw who’d come begging to the fort.

  He’d gone to her tipi to check her out. After she’d proven her willingness to spread her legs for food—with a little encouragement, he thought—he’d gone through her pitifully few possessions.

  His hands closed over the cold rock. He’d been shocked to find a pouch with several gold nuggets of a size and weight he’d never before seen. Those alone would have made him a rich man, but he wanted more. After plying her with drink, she’d told him about the sacred mountains where the shiny rocks turned streams the same color.

  Not about to let anyone else learn of gold in the hills, he’d strangled her and buried her far from the fort. No one had questioned the disappearance of another squaw. He narrowed his eyes. If only he could get into those hills and hunt for the gold. But not with all the Sioux there. That’s when he’d come up with the idea of starting Indian wars by pitting the Arikara and the Sioux against each other. The two tribes were long-standing enemies. And if tensions between them escalated, the army would be forced to step in and he’d have the perfect excuse to drive the Indians out of the area.

  So far, his plan had failed. Damn the colonel for trying to work out peace treaties with the Indians. But the colonel was due to leave soon. Derek fiddled with his moustache then chuckled softly. Pleased with this new turn of events, he headed back toward camp.

  When Emma and her bothersome sister emerged from their tent to eat, he sat beside them, his rifle loaded and at his side. Emma, still on edge from Yellow Dog’s earlier appearance, kept glancing over her shoulder. Derek decided to shamelessly play on her fear, hoping she’d exaggerate the scene to her father. He would get what he wanted: gold.

&nbs
p; Long before the sun rose the next morning, Derek gave orders to break camp. Emma sensed his tension and hustled a sleepy Renny into the coach. As the coach rumbled along the uneven terrain toward the fort, she cast worried glances out the window. Her loving gaze fell to her sister, asleep in the seat across from her. If anything happened to Renny, she’d never forgive herself. After several uneventful hours of travel, she relaxed.

  Dozing, she woke when the wheels hit a rock, slamming her shoulder into the side of the coach. Emma moaned and rubbed the bruised flesh. The jarring bump had woken Renny, too. She sat up and rubbed her eyes then opened her mouth. Emma held up one hand. “Don’t ask. We’ll get there when—”

  The coach unexpectedly surged to the left. The driver sitting above their heads cracked his whip and yelled at the top of his lungs, sending the coach careening forward at such speed that Emma and Renny were tossed to the floor.

  “Emma?”

  Renny’s frightened voice penetrated the haze of pain surrounding Emma. She struggled to her knees, her head aching where she’d hit it against the door but the wild rocking of the coach made keeping her balance nearly impossible. “Stay down.” Her own heart pounded in unison with the throbbing of her head. Hearing the sound of an approaching rider, she glanced out the window to see Gus riding hell-bent-for-leather toward them. When he drew close to the window, Emma grabbed hold of the door and stuck her head out. “What’s going on—”

  Suddenly, the air exploded with bone-chilling screams followed by shouts and gunfire. Gus stared at her, white-faced, his eyes wide with fright. “Git down, Miss,” he shouted. “We’re under attack—”

  His body jerked, his warning ending in a strangled cry. Emma watched in horror as he slumped forward, the feathered shaft of an arrow protruding from his back.