Savage Spring

by Constance O'Banyon

  Rodney had the good grace to look shamefaced—but only because he had been caught. “I was merely trying to teach her a lesson, Mother.”

  Barbara looked at her stepdaughter and felt jealousy at her innocent beauty. The years of her own beauty were fast fading, and she envied Alexandria for her unspoiled loveliness. The chit didn’t even know that she was beautiful, she thought in disgust.

  “I think we will take a little trip to Philadelphia. There we will meet with no opposition to our plan. The two of you will be married very soon now.”

  Rodney stood up and adjusted his rumpled clothing and smiled down at Alexandria. “How will you like being married to someone beneath your station, as your father was, my dear? I don’t think you will fight against the marriage once we reach Philadelphia. Perhaps by the time we return to Meadowlake, you will be as docile as a newborn lamb.”

  Alexandria was too shocked to reply. She knew there would be nothing she could do to keep Barbara and Rodney from taking her to Philadelphia.

  Her stepmother read the hopelessness in her amber eyes and smiled maliciously. “I think, Alexandria, I will have Tilly stay with you while we pack. Tonight I will sleep in your room to make sure you don’t take it into your head to leave us suddenly. First thing bright and early tomorrow morning, we will be on our way to Philadelphia.”

  Alexandria pulled the coverlet over her and laid her head back against the pillow. She could feel herself being drawn more and more tightly into a situation she had no control over. When Barbara and Rodney left, closing the door behind them, Alexandria buried her face in the pillow and cried out her misery. Somehow she had to find a way to escape Barbara and Rodney before they reached Philadelphia, or she wouldn’t ever be free. Tears of hopelessness washed down her face, and she wondered to whom she could turn for help. There was no one. The neighbors really had stopped coming around after her father married Barbara, so she couldn’t ask them for help. If she was going to get away, she would have to save herself, she thought with stubborn determination!

  She dried the tears from her face and sat up. Yes, she was her mother’s daughter, and she wouldn’t give up until she was free!

  Chapter Six

  Tag opened his eyes, trying to focus them amid his confusion. It took him a few minutes to realize that he was in Windhawk’s lodge. He sat up slowly, searching for his sister. With a sweeping glance, he discovered that he was alone in the lodge. He found to his relief that the pain in his chest wasn’t nearly as acute as it had been, and he was hungry. It took several tries and considerable effort, but finally he managed to stand up by holding on to the lodgepole.

  He noticed that his chest was wrapped and bandaged, and knew that it was Joanna’s handiwork. He had vague, shadowy memories of her feeding him and forcing liquids down his throat.

  Tag staggered toward the opening, pushed back the flap, and walked outside. His glance automatically went to his own tipi. No smoke rose from the top opening as it did from all the other tipis, and he realized for the first time that Morning Song wouldn’t be there to greet him.

  Tag was wearing only a breechcloth, and he began to feel the cold. It was snowing lightly, but a strong wind whirled the flakes about so they weren’t sticking to the ground. Turning around, he stumbled back into the lodge. He was feeling weak and shaken so he sat down beside the cook-fire to get warm, hoping his body would soon stop trembling.

  That was where Joanna found him when she came in a short time later. When she saw her brother with his face buried in his hands, her first instinct was to rush to him and take him in her arms to give him comfort, but she realized just in time that sympathy was not what he needed at the moment. What he needed was her strength.

  “I am glad you are finally up, Tag. I hope you are hungry,” she said, trying to sound cheerful.

  Blue eyes locked with blue eyes, speaking a language that could not be put into words. Their eyes told each other of their sorrow and spoke of the comfort they could find in each other.

  Without another word, Joanna walked to the cook-fire, sliced a piece of meat from the roasting spit, placed it in a dish, and handed it to her brother.

  “It’s snowing again,” Joanna said.

  “I know.”

  “Do you want to talk?”

  “Yes, Joanna, I want to talk, but not about…Morning Song. Speak to me of the weather. Talk to me about the gossip that is circulating about the village. Say anything, Joanna, but don’t mention Morning Song.”

  Joanna held back her tears, knowing he was dealing with his grief in the only way he could. She wished she could hold him and tell him everything would soon be all right, as she had when he had been a child…but he was no longer a child, and there were no magic words that would make the pain of grief go away.

  “I think I know what you need, Tag. There is someone who needs you as much as you need her. She will help you get through this,” Joanna said, standing up and walking over to the cradle where his daughter lay.

  Tag watched as she picked up the baby and carried her over to him. He felt guilty that he hadn’t even given the baby a thought. He hadn’t even known that his own baby was a girl. When Joanna handed the infant to him, he hesitated for only a moment before he took her in his arms. Staring down into the tiny face, he felt nothing but emptiness.

  “I will just leave the two of you alone to get acquainted,” Joanna told him.

  Tag didn’t even notice that his sister had left as he held the baby awkwardly. He felt panic for the moment, since he knew very little about babies. He watched as his daughter opened her eyes and began to cry. Her cry seemed to reach inside him, and he realized that she was a part of Morning Song. Lifting her to his face, he kissed the smooth cheek as fatherly love washed through his heart. His tears wet the baby’s cheek as he found an outlet for his grief. Tag knew that he would never cry for Morning Song again after today, even though she would always be a part of him, no matter where he went or what he did. As he rocked his tiny daughter in his arms, her crying stopped, and so did his. Joanna had been right…this tiny bit of humanity who was a part of him and Morning Song had helped him face his loss and given him the courage to go on.

  When Joanna returned a short time later, she found Tag curled up on the bearskin rug beside the fire, holding the baby in his arms—both he and the child were fast asleep. Bending down, she pulled a fur cover over them both, hoping Tag had come to terms with his sorrow.

  Each day Tag seemed to grow stronger. It wasn’t long until he wasn’t satisfied staying in the lodge with Joanna and Sun Woman fussing over him. He began to ride out with Windhawk and the other warriors, and Joanna knew he was becoming more like his old self. No one ever spoke to him of Morning Song, because that was the way he wanted it. He spent hours with his daughter, but he refused to give her a name. He told Joanna that, for the time being, he would just call her the little princess. After a while, everyone adopted the name as well, so Tag’s daughter became known as the little princess.

  One morning when the wind had died down, and the snow clouds had moved away, Tag went for the first time to the tipi he had shared with Morning Song. He spent most of the day inside, and when he came out the whole village gathered around in amazement as he lit a torch and burned the tipi to the ground.

  That night Tag, Joanna, and Windhawk sat around the lodge, talking quietly. Joanna could see that her brother was well on his way to recovering from his wound. She hoped he would soon recover from his loss.

  “I have decided that I will leave for Philadelphia in two days’ time,” Tag said, looking at Joanna.

  Joanna wanted to beg Tag to reconsider, but the look Windhawk gave her silenced her just in time.

  “I thought that is what you might be planning to do, Tag,” Windhawk said hurriedly, not trusting Joanna to keep her objections to herself. “Have you thought this through and know it is what you want to do?”

  “Yes, I have to. The two white men who…shot Morning Song were sent by Claudia and Uncle Howa
rd to kill me. I heard them talking about it.” He looked into Joanna’s eyes. “You understand I have to go, don’t you, Joanna?”

  Joanna’s mouth flew opened in horror as the truth of the situation hit her. She hadn’t considered for one moment that Tag has been the intended victim of the men who had shot Morning Song. It was hard to believe that her uncle and Claudia would go to such lengths to harm Tag.

  “Yes, Tag, I can see that you have to go. I wish I could go with you. I hate the thought that you will…”

  Windhawk touched Joanna’s hand, and she knew he was telling her to let Tag go. “You must do what you must do, Tag,” she said in a soft whisper.

  “I would ask something of you, Joanna. I can leave with peace of mind if I know you will be caring for the little princess. Before Morning Song died, she asked me to give the baby to you.”

  “I will love and care for the little princess as if she were my own daughter, Tag. But one day, when this is all settled, you must come back for her. Not so much that she will need you, but that you will need her.”

  Tag nodded his head, and his eyes traveled to the cradle where his daughter slept. “I’ll be back, you can depend on that, but it may be a long while before I return. Tell her about me and her mother. Never allow her to forget that I…love her.” Tag’s eyes were full of sorrow as he looked at his sister. “Joanna, I have to go back—try to understand. Morning Song made me promise before she died that I would go to Philadelphia. Don’t you see it’s something that I have to do?”

  “I always knew this day would come, Tag.” Joanna turned away so Tag wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “I think I will go to visit Farley,” she said, rushing from the lodge before she made Tag feel worse by her tears.

  Tag half stood to go after her, but Windhawk stopped him. “Let her go. She will be back soon.”

  Tag sighed heavily. “Help her understand that I am doing the right thing, Windhawk.”

  “She knows. Did she not prepare you for this for many years? I also prepared you to return to face the man who has wronged you. You are strong and brave, Tag. You can meet any man in a fight and come out the winner.” Windhawk clasped Tag’s arm. “You will be missed by the Blackfoot. Send word to your sister, so she will know how you are doing.”

  Tag nodded in agreement, and they both lapsed into silence. Although Windhawk wasn’t old enough to be Tag’s father, he had taken on the role in Tag’s life for many years, and Tag wanted him to know how much he valued his strong guidance.

  “Windhawk, I…”

  “Do not speak it,” Windhawk interrupted. “There has never been the need for words between the two of us. Just remember that your sister and I will always be here for you.”

  “You do not mind my leaving the little princess with you?”

  “As she begins to grow, I will say the things to her that you would say if you were here. I will love my sister’s daughter as if she were my own.”

  “Windhawk, my uncle and Claudia will pay for Morning Song’s death. You can depend on that.”

  Again both men lapsed into silence. There was no more that needed to be said.

  Joanna rushed into Farley’s tipi and threw herself into his arms. “He’s going, Farley! Tag’s leaving!”

  Farley patted her awkwardly on the back. “You always knowed he would go, Joanna. This can’t come as news to you.”

  “I know, Farley, but this is so sudden. I’m afraid for him. The men who killed Morning Song were sent by my uncle and Claudia to kill Tag!” she cried, tears streaming down her face.

  Farley studied her face closely. “Are you telling the right of it?”

  “Yes, Tag overheard the two men talking about it.”

  “I been having me a hankering to see this here Philli-whatever it’s called. I ’speck I’ll just mosey on down there with Tag to see what’s going on.”

  Joanna threw her arms around Farley, laughing and crying at the same time. “Thank you, Farley, my dear, dear friend. I will feel better knowing you will be with him.”

  Farley winked at Joanna. “It could be young Tag that will have to look after me. When them big city women get a look at me, they might want to take me home with ’em and domast-a-kate me.”

  Joanna kissed his rough cheek. “I will miss you. Come home to me soon.”

  The whole village had gathered to see Tag and Farley off. Tag mounted his horse and looked at the sea of faces that he knew so well. Many of his boyhood friends raised their hands in a silent salute of farewell. Tag had already told his daughter, Joanna, and Windhawk good-bye in private. His eyes now sought his sister’s, and he saw the tears swimming in their blue depths. Windhawk placed his arm about Joanna and drew her to him. Tag knew he was leaving behind all that was dear to him. He would be riding into the unknown, where he would meet with hostile forces and people who wanted to see him dead, but there was no turning back. The road had been mapped out for him years before—he now had to follow it to the end.

  Suddenly, the crowd moved aside to make a path for Sun Woman, who was trying to reach Tag. He had feared he would have to leave without telling her good-bye, for when he’d gone to her tipi she hadn’t been there, and no one he asked had known where she was.

  When she reached his side, she was breathing hard, as if she had been running. “I feared you would have left before I could get back, my son.”

  Tag smiled down at her kindly. As the mother of his wife, she had not spoken to him in the two years he had been married to Morning Song. Now, there was no longer any need for her to remain silent.

  “I had searched everywhere for you but could not find you, my mother.”

  “Night Falcon,” she said, calling him by his Indian name. “I heard that you were returning to the white world, so I give you a gift to take along with you,” she said, handing a leather pouch up to him. The bag seemed to be very heavy, and she was having trouble lifting it.

  “What is this, my mother?” he inquired.

  “I went to our sacred mountain and filled the pouch with the yellow rock that the white man craves. I know Morning Song would want you to have it, since you are going back to the white world.”

  “I could never take…”

  “Do not speak, my son. Use it to find and destroy my daughter’s murderers. Do this for me.”

  Tag leaned forward and kissed Sun Woman on the cheek. “It will be as you say, my mother. Help Joanna take care of the little princess for me.”

  “Come back soon, my son. You must not tarry long in the white world. Your daughter does not yet have a proper name—you must hurry home so you can name her.”

  “It is so, my mother,” he said kindly.

  Looking beyond Sun Woman, Tag caught Joanna’s eyes and sent her a silent message of love. He then turned his horse and rode out of the village with Farley at his side.

  Joanna ran into the lodge and threw herself down on the bed, crying. She felt strong arms go about her, and Windhawk lifted her into his arms, cradling her as if she were a small child.

  “There has been so much sadness lately, my Joanna. Put it out of your heart. Take my hand, and together we will overcome all the pain.”

  She wiped her eyes and looked up into her husband’s handsome face. His dark eyes caught and held hers, and she leaned forward to touch his lips. Yes, with Windhawk beside her she could overcome anything. He would help her heal.

  As Tag left the Blackfoot village behind, he stared straight ahead. Each mile he traveled brought him that much closer to the enemy. His blue eyes were laced with hatred, and the hands that gripped the reins were white about the knuckles from the pressure he was applying to them.

  Farley kept pace with Tag, knowing that he would have to keep a close watch on him.

  They rode in silence for days, not even talking much to each other when they made camp at night.

  Many times Tag wanted to turn his horse and ride back to all that was dear and familiar to him…but a force stronger than himself kept pushing him onward. That f
orce was the power of revenge!

  Chapter Seven

  February 1848

  Taggart James leaned against the rail of the barge and stared down at the muddy water of the Missouri River without really seeing it. There was wild, unleashed fury in his heart, and he was driven almost past the point of reasoning by the need to punish Claudia and his Uncle Howard.

  His deep violet-blue eyes were cold as he glanced at the shoreline, willing the barge to move faster so he could reach his destination. He sighed inwardly, knowing it would still be weeks before he reached Philadelphia.

  Closing his eyes, he could still see Morning Song’s lovely face and hear the sound of her laughter. He clenched his fists together tightly, and with sheer willpower resisted the urge to slam them against the wooden railing.

  Had it only been four months since Morning Song had died in his arms? It seemed like a lifetime ago, and yet the hurt was still so acute. Wild, jumbled thoughts tripped through his mind, and he wanted to strike out against anything to relieve his agony.

  Sitting down on a wooden crate, Tag leaned his head against the railing, while his mind drifted back in time…

  As the cold icy winds blew off the river, Tag remembered himself as a twelve-year-old boy standing at his mother’s gravesite, holding on to his sister’s hand and feeling lost and helpless. Later, he and Joanna were to learn that their father was also dead. That was when the trouble had all began. He and Joanna had been forced to flee their home in Philadelphia. How long ago that seemed now. So much had happened since then.

  His eyes narrowed, and he glanced up at the sky as a cloud drifted across the sun, throwing the land into darkened shadow. He would have his revenge on his Uncle Howard and Claudia. His lip curled into a sneer when he thought of Claudia. After Tag’s Aunt Margaret had died, his uncle had married Claudia Maxwell, who was a jealous, bitter woman. Tag never had understood why Claudia hated Joanna so bitterly and would do anything to hurt her. Claudia had tried on several occasions in the past to harm Joanna, but had miraculously failed. Tag thought of the time Claudia had helped Howard Landon capture Joanna, but fortunately Windhawk had rescued her.