"Sour grapes, this morning, are we? I came to have a civilized conversation with you, but if you're not up to it . . .," he began to close the door, " . . . I'll just come back tomorrow."
Katelyn didn't want to play his games, but if she didn't, she'd never get out of here. And she had to get out if she was ever going to make it back to Fox. "No, wait, Henry."
"Are you going to behave yourself?" He shook his finger at her like she was a naughty child.
"Yes." Katelyn lowered her head submissively. "I'll behave," she said quietly. She hated this! She hated having to grovel before him. But she had to do it.
"Good." He stared at her. "My, my, you're quite the mess this morning. You really must take better care of yourself." He shook his head, and then looked up, a sparkle in his clear blue eyes. "It's my birthday today, you know."
"Is it?" She tried to sound interested.
"Yes, indeed, and I'm going to have a party tonight." He clasped his hands together, tickled with himself. "A big one."
"A big party?" Katelyn's widened. If she could just get out of here, this might be her chance. She might be able to make her escape in the midst of the commotion. "Who's coming, Henry?"
"Oh, everyone! Everyone I like, that is. I'm just checking the guest list."
Katelyn's pulse quickened. "Am I on the guest list, Henry?" She held her breath.
"Well, you see, therein, lies my problem." He polished his fingernails on his coat. "I'd like to invite you." He looked up at her. "And so many have asked about you, but . . . " He shook his head. "You really haven't been a very good girl, Katelyn."
"I told you I was sorry. I told you I was confused. I won't do it again," she lied.
"Do you want to come to my party?"
"Yes, I'd like to come, Henry." She smiled prettily, flirting with him. He could be so gullible!
"Ask me."
"What?" Katelyn's eyes crinkled with confusion.
"Ask me if you can come to my birthday party."
She was so mad she could scream. How dare he do this to her! But she knew she had to go along with his nonsense. "Could I come to your birthday party, Henry?"
"You promise you'll be good?" He began to open the door a little further.
"Yes. I promise." Katelyn's heart pounded. He was going to let her out!
"You promise you won't try to escape and you won't mention a word about anything that's happened, either with the savages, or here?"
"Yes, yes I promise! I'll do just as you say." She took a step for the door, craving the warmth of the bright sunshine.
"Now I'm not kidding, Katelyn." His voice grew stern, the childish smirk disappearing from his face. "I'll not have you dishonor me in front of my friends."
"I won't. I swear it." She threw up a hand. "I won't say a word all night." She followed him, stepping out of the ice house. The bright sun pierced her eyes making her squint, but the fresh air felt glorious!
"Then you may come to the house and go to your room." He guided her with a hand on her back. "But I'm warning you. You make one more mistake and I'll not be held accountable for my actions. You really made me mad the other night." Up the walk they went, headed for the house.
"I'll do just as you say, Henry. I've learned my lesson."
"I thought that might do it." He held the door open for her. "Now you are to go to your room and stay there. I'll have someone bring you water for a bath and then I'll send up a seamstress. She'll have to alter one of those dresses I gave you to disguise this disgusting condition of yours. She says she can do it. Says you're not too big." He led her up the main staircase and down the hall. "Our course once you can no longer hide yourself, you'll not be permitted out of your bedchamber."
"I understand." Katelyn hugged the wall, still a little uneasy on her feet.
"God sakes, girl! I should think you would!" He opened her door. "Inside with you. I'll be up to talk to you later. I have to check with cook about the food for this evening. I'll be locking your door, of course."
"Of course." Katelyn still couldn't believe he was going to let her attend the party!
"Good day to you." Henry bowed stiffly.
"Good day." She waited until he shut the door and slid the bolt before she gave a squeal of delight. It felt so good to be out in the open air again. Even if she was still locked in. Running to push open a window, she stuck out her head, taking in great gulps of fresh air. Tonight she would escape. Somehow she would manage it. She was beginning to worry about Fox. He should have come for her by now. Had something gone wrong? She had to get to the Lenni Lenape village and find out.
Katelyn spent the rest of the day listening to the bustle of the house as they made preparations for the party, and making plans of her own.
Tipaakke and Mekollaan made their way cautiously through the forest. They had decided that first they must go to Henry Coward's and be sure Katelyn was not there. Then, they would begin looking elsewhere. The half-blood, Red Coat, had explained how to get to the coward's house and had warned them to be careful. It was no longer safe for an Indian to cross the land that the white men had stolen from them.
As the brothers moved silently through the trees, Tipaakke went over and over in his head what it would be like to have Katelyn in his arms again. He recalled the softness of her skin, the feel of her fingertips on his flesh, the smell of her freshly washed hair. He tasted her lips on his, he felt her breast in the palm of his hand.
But as they grew nearer to the white man's plantation, Tipaakke began to mull over the fact that she might not really be there. Mekollaan was right; she might be dead. So many things could have happened to her in the forest; she could have eaten poison berries, or wandered west into nothingness. She could have been eaten by a bear . . . or wolves. How would he deal with her death, he wondered, looking into the sun to mark his time. I just won't think about that now. I will only think positive thoughts; I will go to this Henry Coward and I will take back what is mine. And then I will kill him for keeping my Katelyn against her will.
Mekollaan glanced at his brother as he leaped over a fallen log. "What is this I see on your face, Tipaakke Oopus? A death wish?" He shook his head. "We are not warring," he told him in their native tongue. "We go in, we take her if she is there, and then we go." He gestured with a hand. "I want no bloodshed. I want no confrontations."
"Wouldn't you kill him if you were in my place?" Tipaakke plucked a berry from a bush and popped it into his mouth, continuing to walk.
"I don't know. We don't know what happened yet." He shrugged his muscular shoulders. "Maybe she went to him. We don't know."
"Don't even say such a thing, brother. She hates him! She would die in the forest before she would seek his help."
"She is not one of us. You don't know what she would do. She was alone, frightened . . . ."
"I said enough! Somehow he found her and he captured her and now he will die for it."
"You will be a chief soon, Tipaakke. You have responsibilities. You can no longer risk your life like a young buck. Our people depend of us."
"Don't you think I know that? Whatever happens, after this, whether she is dead or alive, I will be ready to become a true member of the tribe again. I will accept my position and do my father the honor he deserves. Together, you and I will rule our people on the Ohio. But first," he balled up his fist, "first I must take care of this. If she is alive, I must have Katelyn. She is in my blood."
As darkness began to fall, the brothers crossed onto Bullman land and began to slow their pace. As they drew nearer to the big white farmhouse, to their dismay, they heard the sound of carriages and laughter. This was going to be more difficult than they'd anticipated. They hadn't planned on a house full of people.
Katelyn paced the hardwood floor of her bedchamber, her hands knotted in the folds of her dress. All day long party guests had been arriving by carriage and by boat. The house hummed with laughter, glasses clinked and children ran from their governesses. She could hear women passing by h
er room on their way to change from their travelling wear to their evening dresses. Soon, Henry would come for her, and she would be presented.
Crossing the room, her heeled slippers tapping on the floor, she pushed open a window. A warm breeze blew, ruffling the curtains, and the scent of plowed fields filled the air. Watching the sun slowly set, Katelyn wondered where Tipaakke was right now? Was he hurt or injured? Was he dead? Or was he somewhere right now, watching the sun set, agonizing over what had happened to her?
The baby stirred and she slid her hand down over her growing middle. The seamstress had done a superb job with the gown of green lawn Henry had brought her this afternoon. With the gathers loosened beneath the vee at the waist, she merely looked plump. Katelyn laughed at herself, thinking how only a year ago how pleased she would have been to have been given such a beautiful dress. She had never owned anything so fine. It would have been perfect for her with its wide three-quarter sleeves, delicate squared neckline, and narrow green-satin ribbons. But now, after knowing the comfort and freedom of soft doeskin, the green lawn was cumbersome and scratchy.
Turning back to the window, Katelyn stared out again wishfully. It was almost dark now. Back at the village she would just be cooking the evening meal over the fire in front of Fox's wigwam. Together they would eat, laughing and telling stories. Then, they would go to the stream and bathe. Fox would swim beneath the water and grab her feet, pulling her under. When she came up sputtering she would splash water in his face and threaten to dry off and go home. After that she might practice her swimming, and then, arm in arm they would retire to their wigwam and make love, nestled in the furs on the sleeping platform. Katelyn hugged her arms around her waist, her eyelids half closed. These fantasies were all that had kept her from going insane, locked in that dark, suffocating ice house.
Then she blinked. What was that she had just seen from her window? A flash of movement in the semidarkness. There it was again! Someone racing across the yard. It looked like . . . it almost looked like . . . it couldn't be! Katelyn leaned further out the window, hanging onto the wide sill. Squinting, she stared into the yard. Whoever it was had disappeared behind the smokehouse.
Katelyn's pulse quickened as she spotted Mekollaan creeping from the shadows of the small out building. Where was Tipaakke? She had seen two figures! Please, Heavenly Father, she prayed. Let it be him . . . . "Mekollaan! Here! Help me," she called in Algonquian. "Here." She waved her hands, her voice barely a whisper. It would be an end to them all.
Shading her eyes from the light of the lamp on the side table, she leaned further out the window, her round stomach resting on the sill. Then she saw him. Out of the shadows stepped Tipaakke Oopus, brave of the Delawares. He was breathtaking. Wearing only a loincloth, his body was painted in greens and browns to camouflage his movements. He wore his midnight black hair free and flowing, a fox tail intertwined and dangling at the side of his head. His face was sober, but it was a look of determination she saw. He had come to rescue her! She waved a hand, leaning to call to him and then she heard the rattle at the door.
"Katelyn, did I hear you speaking to someone?" Henry's voice came from the hallway.
She spun around just in time to see him coming through the door. Her hand flew to her breast, as if she might be able to slow her pounding heart. Her throat was constricted, she could barely breath. "Henry," she managed.
"What are you doing with the window open. I've told you about that before." He brushed passed her in his ruby-red velvet coat, closing the window with a slam. "The night air is not good for you." He looked her up and down. "The gown will do. Gads, what's wrong with you, girl? You look as if you've seen a ghost. You've mussed your hair." He reached out to smooth her elaborate coiffure, resting his other hand on the back of her neck, berating her as he worked.
At that instant, Tipaakke looked up to the second story of the great house to the place where the light spilled from a window. What he saw made his blood run cold. For a moment no words came, then he spoke quietly in his own tongue. "There she is," he whispered. He could feeling his heart being wrenched from his chest.
"Where, brother, I do not see her." Mekollaan held his knife tight in his hand, his nerves on edge. He wanted to be done with this as quickly as possible.
Tipaakke's voice was barely a whisper as he raised his hand slowly, pointing to the window. "There."
What Mekollaan saw sickened him. His brother had cared for this woman, loved her, and in return, he got betrayal. "Come, we go. She is in the arms of another."
Tipaakke nodded his head slowly, his hand falling to his side. Tears welled in his eyes. He had never loved anyone like he loved his Katelyn. He loved her for her sweet voice, her laughter, her willingness to learn. He loved her for a million reasons, and now he hated her. "Yes. We go, my brother."
Together the two Lenni Lenape's crossed the white man's yard, slipping into the woods. "You have done wisely. She would never have fit in," Mekollaan told his brother. "She was never really yours. Manito had never meant us to mix with them."
Fox nodded in agreement as he forced one moccasinned foot in front of the other. She never loved me, he told himself. She did the things she did, said the things she said to survive. I threatened to kill her so she did what she thought a wanted her to. She is not to blame, an animal would do as much. But she was not an animal! He was not an animal! He was a man with feelings. One did not toy with another's love. It was a sacred thing.
Suddenly, Fox stopped dead. Without a word, he turned and headed back in the direction they'd just come.
"Tipaakke! What are you doing? Come brother, we go. The white woman has betrayed you! You cannot have a woman that has betrayed your love for her." He reached out to his brother. He knew the pain he felt. It was the same pain that had ripped through his own body when that young Quaker girl had betrayed him so many years ago. "Please, come home. There is nothing here for you, only pain. You do not want her."
"No," Tipaakke's voice was icy cold. "I do not want her, but I will have my child."
Mekollaan leaped over a bush, following after him. "What do you mean? What do you speak of?"
"She carries my child. I will not have my son raised by her. I will not have a child brought up to hate and kill like a white man!" Tipaakke continued to walk, his stride long and purposeful.
"What is wrong with you? She still carries the child. You cannot take it." Mekollaan was beginning to wonder if the Iroquois torture had permanently damaged his brother's thinking.
"I will take her home and keep her until she has the child. Then she may go to her white man's hell if she wants." He spun around beating his chest with his fist. "But I will have my child."
"You can have another. Many if you like. You are a chief now; you do not have to limit your children to two." Mekollaan ran beside Tipaakke. "There will be many maidens to chose from when we get to the Ohio. You could marry a Shawnee cousin if you wish."
"I want no woman, only my child. I have lost one. I cannot control what happened then, but I will not have another."
"She won't come with you. She has her white man and her rich clothes. She has a big house and slaves to work for her. She will not leave this."
"I will take her. I will tie her and carry her. I will keep her tied to my wigwam until the child is born. Then I will push her out the door and tell her to go." Tipaakke entered the clearing where the Bullman house stood and pulled his steel knife from the strap of his loincloth. He reached over his head to finger the arrows he carried on his back.
"You cannot do this, Fox. Is it worth risking your life to save a child that will be half white?"
He crept past a hedge of boxwoods, watching the white men and woman in their bright clothes enter the house through the front door. "You will understand someday when you have had a child of your own. It is a part of me. My blood flows as freely through its veins as hers."
Mekollaan followed his brother. This was madness! But his brother was not thinking clearly, so he must
do it for him. In this state, there was no telling what he might do. He would just have to keep a sharp eye on Fox and trust Manito to watch over him.
Katelyn took the steps on the grand staircase one at a time, her arm linked through Henry's. Her legs shook beneath the green lawn gown, and her heart beat erratically, but she kept a smile plastered on her face. She had to play the game right to the very end, right until Fox rescued her, otherwise Henry might become suspicious.
At Henry's side Katelyn stood, putting out a hand to each guest as he or she was introduced, presenting her cheek to be kissed. As the minutes ticked by and the faces came and went, she began to feel dizzy. There were so many people, touching, laughing, apologizing, begging to hear of her capture. They all pushed and pulled at her, fingering her hair and gown, handing her one drink after another.
The heat of the room was oppressive. Katelyn wanted to rip off the foolish gown and run. The noise was unbearable as the party guests mingled, shouting to one another and joking. And Henry, he was the worst of it all. There the hypocrite stood, introducing his betrothed, in his bright red coat and red stockings and his high-heeled shoes. He ran his fingers over her neck and back, squeezing her waist for emphasis when he told this guest or that how happy he was to have her back.
Then, after the guests had been received, the music began and Katelyn was forced to dance with Henry in front of everyone. The feel of his arms around her made her sick to her stomach. The first stream she got to she would rip off the dress and dive in, scrubbing until his touch was washed from her skin. She would walk home to the village naked before she would wear Henry's gown.
But where was Fox? She was beginning to worry. Begging off the next dance, her voice lighthearted and playful, she stood beside Henry ignoring the planter he was speaking to. Her hand clutched the glass of cool water she'd asked for and her eyes scanned the windows. He should have spotted her by now. She was trying to stay as visible as possible, though she was forced to remain at Henry's side. Before they had left her bedchamber, he had threatened to retire her for the evening if she got more than a foot from him.
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