Forbidden Caress

by Colleen French

  The other braves and Won gathered around the fire as they took their evening meal, listening closely to all Katelyn said. A unique bond threaded between them as they discussed the possible ways of getting Tipaakke out of the white man's hand. They each knew that he would have to be rescued before the trial, because there would be no fairness in this trial. Only Henry would be permitted to give his story and only he would be believed. Tipaakke didn't stand a chance; he'd be hung at dawn the next day.

  As Katelyn rested with the Lenni Lenape brothers she began to experience a closeness she'd never felt before. She had proved herself worthy of their respect and would hold it for a life time. Never before had she fit in with anyone like she fit in with these men, here, tonight. Even Mekollaan, who had hated her, now believed her worthy of his friendship. If only Tipaakke could have been here to share this with her.

  Into the night the dozen braves, Katelyn, and Won, sat in a circle, smoking their pipes and mulling over Tipaakke's imprisonment. They knew there had to be a way to get him out; there was always a way. They simply had to come up with it.

  After everyone had finally unrolled their sleeping mats and laid down to rest, Katelyn and Won lay next to each other staring into the burning embers. "I can't believe they ate his stew!" She tossed a piece of bark into the fire and watched the flames lick it up.

  Won laughed, rolling onto her back. "We can never believe the things these white men do. I will be glad to move from here. This is no longer our home, it has been taken from us." She stared up at the starless sky.

  "Wish I could poison the stinking dogs!" She threw another piece into the fire.

  Won was silent for a moment, and then she sat straight up on her mat. "What did you say, Kate-lyn?"

  Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I said, I wish I could poison the dogs. It would serve them right, stealing Fox's food."

  "You are very smart." Won wagged a finger, spinning around to face Katelyn. "That would work." Her eyes sparkled mischieviously.

  "What would work? What are you talking about?" She was beginning to get very sleepy. What was Won babbling about?

  "That is how we can get the Fox out of his trap!" Won slapped her hands together, tickled with herself.

  Katelyn turned her head. "Fox? A way to get him out? How? What are you talking about?" She rolled over on her side, propping her head up with her elbow.

  "We will poison them!"

  "Poison who? You're not making any sense, Won." Katelyn stared through the darkness at her friend, watching the firelight dance across her broad face.

  "Poison the jailors." She held up her palms. "You take your basket of food to the jail, the jailors eat it . . ."

  "You're going to kill all three of them? Mekollaan isn't going to like that; he said no unnecessary deaths." She shook her head, her eyes growing wide.

  "No! I won't kill them, I just will make them very sick in their stomach." Won was beginning to chuckle, the beads around her neck clattering together as her body shook.

  Katelyn got up and crawled over to Won, sitting up on her knees to face her friend. "I'm sorry, but I'm lost." Her knees pressed against Won's. "How are we going to get Tipaakke out of a jail by poisoning the guards?" Her hand flew to her belly when the baby gave a hard kick. "He knows we speak of his father."

  "It would be very easy. I will find the herbs to make up a medicine used to cleanse the body, only I will make it stronger, I will make another stew and put the mixture into it." She stirred an imaginary spoon with one large bronze hand. "Then, when the jailors eat the stew, they will have to run very quickly to the . . . " she searched for the right word. "The . . . what is your word . . . to the woods to . . .?"

  Katelyn was confused for a moment, but then she began to grin. "It's a purgative!" Her hand clamped over her mouth. "You mean they'd have to get to the necessary?" She giggled behind her hand.

  "They would run to their little house in the back. And we would slip in the front, take our friend from the jail, and slip out again before a single white man saw us." Won crossed her arms in front of her chest, obviously pleased with herself. "It is simple, and no one must die. The jailors will also get a cleansing. Our people say it is good for the soul."

  Katelyn and Won spent the remainder of the night making plans and discussing the safest way to get Tipaakke out. By dawn they were tired, but pleased with their ideas. It really would work. Mekollaan, however, was a little more skeptical.

  "How do you know your potion will be strong enough?" He picked up a flat corn cake off the baking stone and took a bite. "They will know who poisoned them if they are given a chance to think. Katelyn will be trapped in the back of the jail."

  Won mixed a sprinkle of herbs from her bag with hot water and handed the bowl to Katelyn. "Drink," she ordered. Then she turned back to Mekollaan. "You think I do not know my plants? I will make them very clean." She nodded her head confidently.

  Mekollaan licked the cake crumbs from his fingers. "Once these jailors run out of the jailhouse, how will Katelyn get him out? There would be no time to burn the wooden bars."

  "That's the easy part." Katelyn took a sip of her steamy tea. "The keys to the big locks on the cell doors hang on a peg there in the back." She shrugged her shoulders. "I'll just unlock the door and let him out."

  "The jailors will not eat the stew until after you are gone," Mekollaan said.

  "You're right. We hadn't even thought of that." Katelyn sat down in the soft summer grass. "So, I'll just run back in and let him out after they've come out of the jailhouse and run around to the back."

  "No, I will let my brother out. You will come back here and wait for us. We will have to flee quickly. They will know you let him out. They will be looking for you."

  "No, Mekollaan." Katelyn's voice was clear and strong. "I must do this; it is important to me. He will soon be my husband; I must do this alone."

  Mekollaan understood why she wanted to free him herself, but he hated taking the risk, especially with her so near to giving birth. But then a Lenni Lenape woman would have done no less for her brave. The Hawk knew he would have to let her do this, he had no right to stop her. He would just have to make sure nothing went wrong. "Yes, you are right. You must do it."

  "And while she is getting the Fox out of his trap," Won explained, "you and your men will cause some trouble on the white man's streets. Burn some houses or something."

  Katelyn swallowed a gulp of hot tea. "I don't think we need to set houses on fire, do we? Those are people's homes."

  Won grimaced. "They do not need those big houses of their baked stone and grandfather trees. They should live in wigwams."

  Mekollaan shook his head, laughing at Won. "I do not think it is wise to burn the Annapolis town, but there are other things that my men could do to get the white men's attentions."

  Won tied her moccasins and slung a soft hide bag over her arm. "I do not know how long I will be gone looking for the plants I need. I may have to travel far. I have not seen the green-striped leaf bush so near to the great waters."

  Katelyn finished off her tea and got to her feet. "How long do you think you'll be gone? We should do this tonight. You have to get back in time to cook the stew."

  Won shook her head, raising her eyebrows. "I cannot say."

  Mekollaan took a step nearer to Katelyn and reached out to touch her lightly on the shoulder. "I think we should wait until tomorrow night. It will give us time to prepare."

  "No." Katelyn's face grew taut with concern. "Tomorrow is his trial. They will hang him."

  Mekollaan's voice was gentle. "You said the jailor told you they would not hang him until the sun dawns the day after."

  "That's what he said, but . . . " Her voice trailed off as her eyes met Mekollaan's. "Do you think he will be all right?" She was afraid to take any chances, afraid of losing him.

  "I think this is best. Everything must go right, we can make no mistakes. One day will make no difference." Mekollaan planted his hands on his hips, watchi
ng Katelyn. The early morning light played off her hair, weaving sparks of firelight through her heavy tresses. He wished he could promise all would go right, but he could not. He, too, would be uneasy about Tipaakke facing the white man's council. But what else could be done? She could only take food just before darkness sets in, otherwise the jailors would grow suspicious. He thought for a moment and then spoke again. "If you can cook up something today while Won is gone, I think you can go back to the jail tonight. Fox will need to know of the plans we make.

  Relief washed over Katelyn. If she couldn't get him out tonight, at least she could see him, touch his smooth cheeks, comfort him. She needed comforting of her own. The baby seemed to have shifted in the night and suddenly felt heavier, more burdensome. She knew her time was near and prayed they could get back to the village before it came. She needed to talk to Fox right now; she wanted reassurance of his love for her.

  By dusk, Katelyn found herself traveling the same brick path to the jailhouse. On her arm, she carried the basket packed with crispy fried fish and more bread stolen from a summer kitchen. The fish had been her idea and she and Mekollaan had spent a pleasant afternoon fishing at the bay's edge. They had also dug clams, which would be steamed on the campfire for the Delaware braves' evening meal.

  Humming softly to herself, Katelyn stepped up to the heavy hand-hewn door of the jailhouse and gave three knocks. Boldly, she turned to flash a smile in the direction of the barn where Mekollaan and two other braves stood watch. When the door opened, she stepped in.

  "Good evening to thee, gentlemen." She kept her head down, hidden by the Quaker woman's black bonnet. "I bring food for the prisoners and words of salvation for the savage."

  The red-faced, portly jailor reached to catch the basket on her arm. "Mmm hmm, sure smells good tonight, mistress. Let me take that for you." He swept the basket through the air and deposited it on the table where the other two were playing cards, just as they were the night before. "It's not quite time for them to eat, so I'll just keep the basket here for them." He grinned.

  "As you wish." Katelyn bobbed her head and started down the hallway. "Good evening to you, brother," she called out to Tipaakke.

  Tipaakke leaped out of his bed of straw and ran to the bars. He watched Katelyn come around the corner. Her face was like the first breath of spring air to him. Even in her dull, white woman's dress and foolish head-covering, she radiated beauty. He caught her attention and pressed his fingers to his lips. She would have to take care. The prisoner in the other cell was awake and would hear every word that passed between the Quaker woman and the Indian. They could not take the chance of letting him see any familiarity between them. Who knew what he might say to the jailors?

  Katelyn smiled serenely, taking note of the blond prisoner who leaned against the wall, staring at nothing. "Are we ready for our evening lesson?" She continued with the charade, beginning to recite to him from the Bible. It just isn't fair, she thought, as she spoke from rote memory. She had wanted to talk to him! She had wanted to touch him. She wanted to tell him how near their baby was to coming into the world. Instead, she could only stand there in front of a cage, speaking in another woman's voice.

  Tipaakke stood with his face pressed to the wooden bars, his eyes resting on her bonneted face. As she recited from her people's law book, her eyes spoke words of a different nature. Those soft doe eyes spoke of the love between a man and a woman. They made promises of a life, together and sparkled with promises of the love flamed by a kiss, a soft-spoken word. There was no need for her to speak, he already knew what was in her heart.

  As Katelyn droned on, speaking of salvation and repentance, her eyes searched Tipaakke's for the reassurance she needed, and she found that comfort. Now, if only she could tell him how they were going to get him out!

  Suddenly, a thought came to her. She finished up with her last verse, and then spoke again. "Now in conclusion, heathen brother, let us dig deep within ourselves, and have a moment of silence so that we might contemplate our sins." She sneaked a glance at the blond prisoner. He was still standing there, staring, but paying no attention to them. Stepping closer to the bars, Katelyn whispered. "Tipaakke."

  "It is good to see you, my love." His voice was smooth and comforting, so barely audible that she seemed to absorb his words, rather than hear them.

  "You must stand trial tomorrow, we cannot get you out until the evening." She spoke quickly, keeping her head down to look as if she were in prayer.

  "How?" he murmured. His hand ached to reach out and take her hand. Just one touch, that was all he wanted. He just wanted to feel her skin against his.

  "There is no time. Just trust me, I will be here tomorrow night and I will get you out." Her voice quivered. "I must go." She inhaled deeply, inhaling his heavy masculine scent, pressing it to memory.

  "Go."

  "Amen," she spoke aloud, and then she reached out her hand to his. "Good evening to you, sir."

  Tipaakke smiled, taking her hand in his. It was only a brief, white man's handshake, but a streak of energy raced between them, sending shivers through their bodies. "Tomorrow," she whispered, and then she was gone.

  When Katelyn entered the parlor of the jailhouse, the jailor had already emptied her basket. "Here you are, mistress. We thank you for your help." He handed her the basket and opened the outer door for her.

  "Thou wilst take the food to the prisoners?" she asked shuffling out the door.

  "Will, indeed, mistress. Good evening to you." He hurried her out the door, anxious to try the trout before it cooled.

  "Sir?" Katelyn stuck her bonneted head back in the doorway.

  "Yes?" The jailor leaned impatiently against the door frame.

  "Thou says the savage's trial will be on the morrow?" She peered up at him through thick lashes.

  "Yes, ma'am. Noon." He closed the door behind her.

  Noon the next day, Katelyn found herself following the familiar brick walk through Annapolis. Dressed in the stolen Quaker garb, she headed for the court house on the main street in town. She and Mekollaan had gotten into a terrible fight over her going to Tipaakke's trial, but she had refused to take no for an answer. She had to be there when the jailors led him into the courtroom; she had to be there when Henry spun his lies committing Fox to death for a murder he'd done himself. Even if Fox couldn't see her there among the spectators, he would know in his heart that she was with him.

  It seemed that everyone in the seafaring town was out today, dressed in their finest clothes, hurrying to get front seats in the court room. Venders stood on the sidewalks, calling out their wares and craftsmen set up booths in the streets displaying their metalworks and bolts of woven cloth. The air was filled with an electrical excitement as people called out to one another across the street, waving and laughing.

  Katelyn kept her head down, shuffling down the busy street. Bastards! she thought bitterly. They think they're going to a party. A man is going to be sentenced to hang for a crime he didn't commit today and they think its a day of celebration. These people, they were all so proud of their new way of life, their justice, their trials for all men. The truth is, this is all a farce. No one would care what Tipaakke said, no one would ask for his story. He had already been found guilty by the good citizens at Henry's birthday party, and all because his skin is red, rather than white.

  By the time Katelyn reached the courthouse, the room had already been filled to bursting and now people were spilling out into the street. Children sat on their father's shoulders, peering in the windows and men backed up wagons to stand on to get a better view.

  Katelyn's stomach turned and twisted as she drew closer. Then the crowd began to part and she was pulled to the side by a young man in a gray coat.

  "Best back up, they're bringing the savage." He pointed in the direction of the jailhouse around the corner.

  Katelyn stood on her toes, craning her neck. What she saw made her blood run cold. Tipaakke was being led by the two jailors who had playe
d cards. Links of heavy rusted chain tied his wrists and feet together so that he could barely walk. The portly jailor led the way, pushing the crowd back as he strutted like a rooster down the middle of the street.

  Katelyn bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. How dare they shame him like this! But Tipaakke walked with his head held high, his long, midnight-black hair flowing over his shoulders. He resembled some pagan god, with his bare bronze chest and perfectly sculptured limbs. As he walked, pulling the long clanking chains behind him, his eyes pierced the souls of the men and women who stared at him.

  A great hush settled over the spectators outside the courtroom as the prisoner passed, then they broke into a great buzz of whispers. "You think they could have clothed him, the poor creature," a woman commented, leaning to get a better look.

  A man snorted behind Katelyn. "Heard they tried. My Uncle Morris knows the jailor's son and he says they tried to dress him in something decent. He says the beast ripped the coat into pieces with his teeth!"

  Katelyn covered her hands over her ears to block out the horrible things these people said about Fox. When we get away from here, she vowed, we will never ever come back. I don't ever want to see another white face again. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from flowing. They thought he was some kind of animal.

  As the sounds of the chains grew close, Katelyn forced her eyes open. Suddenly, she found herself pushing her way through the crowd to reach the street. "Excuse, excuse," she murmured. She reached the edge of the sidewalk just as Tipaakke passed. Their eyes met for one fleeting moment, and then he was gone, but he had seen her. He knew she was there!

  As Tipaakke and the jailors entered the brick court house, the judge and jurors appeared. It was all Katelyn could do to remain silent as she caught a glimpse of Henry's face in the crowd. Murderer, her insides screamed. You are the one who should be on trial! But, she kept her head down, knowing he must not recognize her.