by Conn, Phoebe
"Then why are the Sioux to be tried? The uprising was every bit as much of a war as the war between the states is. That they lost is punishment enough."
Mark laughed derisively. "Save your arguments for the trial. I think Viper will need them. Now heat water for a bath while I fetch the gown I brought."
"I don't need a bath, nor a gown. I want to be with my husband. He's been hurt and I don't want him to be all alone when he's in pain."
"He'll feel nothing for hours. Now I suggest you see to your bath or I will scrub that delectable body of yours clean myself when I return."
He slammed the door as he left the house, and Erica had the uncomfortable feeling he meant exactly what he said. After a moment's hesitation she flung open the door and carried the bucket to the well to draw water. As she returned to the house, she saw someone had moved Viper into the shade at the side of the house, and, grateful fcMr
that show of kindness, she braced herself for her next confrontation with Mark.
Just as Mark had predicted, it was nearly dark before Viper regained consciousness. His head was aching painfully. He tried to raise his hand to his forehead, but found his arms bound tightly behind his back. Half a dozen men were playing poker nearby, while the others napped or cared for their mounts. He'd been propj^ed up against the side of the house, but by moving slowly, he managed to shift his position slightly. Unfortunately, he soon discovered there seemed to be no way he could find a comfortable pose.
His mouth still tasted of dirt. He remembered being struck from behind while Erica had stood by screaming as though she were the one who had been hit, but nothing else. There was no sign of her or the hostile officer. Mark, Erica had called him. So that was Mark. Imagine that! Mark had come for her and obviously did not like what he had found. That would not change what was, however.
One of the troopers looked up then and noticed Viper was awake. "Hey, chief, how ya' feelin?" he called over to him.
Knowing it would be useless to reply. Viper looked away, his gesture a contemptuous one. He had not expected to be treated so badly, but now that he knew what the army's attitude was, he would not cooperate in the smallest degree. He began working at the ropes that bound his wrists. With luck, by nightfall he could set himself free. With that thought firmly in mind, he watched the men playing poker, his glance as arrogant and disdainful as it had always been when he had to deal with whites.
While Mark helped himself to another serving of venison. Erica continued to argue. She had bathed and dressed in the fine lingerie and pale pink gown he had provided, but she felt no differently than she had before she had changed her clothes. "I want to be with my husband," she stated firmly. "You had no reason to separate us."
"Nonsense. I had every right. The man's under arrest, you are not. I'm pleased to see you've learned to cook passably well. Not that you will ever have to do the
cooking in our home, but it will help you to direct the woman who does more knowledgeably."
"If all of the airmy's officers are so pig-headed as you, it is no wonder the Union is losing the warl" Erica cried out with an exasperated sigh.
"We are not losing,' Mark contradicted sharply, then seeing no point in debating that issue since he could not support it with facts, he changed the subject abruptly. "Your father wished me to tell you he has quit drinking. If you think I am livid over your choice of mate, try and imagine introducing that savage to your father. Do you think you will ever succeed in winning his blesssing for such a ridiculous union?"
Erica straightened her shoulders proudly. She had yet to touch her dinner, but she had no app>etite whatsoever for food. "That an Indian and a white woman would choose to marry might be unheard of in Wilmington, but it is not here in Minnesota. We plan to stay here."
"Moving from one humble dwelling to another as the owners return to their farms?" Mark inquired snidely.
"I've made no claim that this is our house. We have brought in the farmer's crop, though, and he should be grateful for that," she pointed out quickly.
"Why you would wish to marry a man who will dress you in hides and make you work in cornfields is beyond me. That is not the decision of a sensible woman. Erica, and you were always a most sensible sort."
"Until I wished to be married before you left for the war?" she replied sarcastically. "Was that when I took leave of my senses?"
"I have apologized for that," Mark admitted readily. "Had we married, we would not be sitting here in this tiny house arguing over your choice of husband."
"I want to see him," Erica demanded once again. "Post guards around the house, if you must, but I want him to spend the night here in the house with me."
Mark started to laugh and found it difficult to stop. He raised his napkin to cover his mouth as he tried valiantly to recover his composure. "You'll not spend the night with that heathen ever again. Erica. If it's a man you want in your bed, it will be me."
"You wouldn't darel" she hissed.
"Not without an invitation, no, but as I recall, I have already received one." Mark smiled slyly, thinking he had just caught her in her own trap.
"That was a long time ago, Mark Randall, before I met Viper and became his wife. You had your chance, and you missed it."
"So, you are simply trying to pay me back for that imagined insultl" Thinking he had just scored an imix)rtant point in their verbal battle, Mark's eyes glowed with fiery sparks of triumph.
"That was not an 'imagined insult,* it was a very real one." Disgusted with herself for remembering so clearly the shame she had felt that night. Erica turned her chair to the side so she did not have to face him.
She had combed her hair into a marvelous upsweep of radiant curls, and the style set off the exquisite beauty of her profile so perfectly that it took Mark a full minute to recall what they were discussing. By that time, all he wished to win was her love, not some ridiculous argument. "I went to your house the next morning. I had hoped to make things right between us, but you were gone, and I had no chance to apologize for upsetting you so badly. Will you forgive me now?"
"Don't you think it's a bit late for such a display of remorse? Why didn't you beg my forgiveness when you wrote to me, if you were so eager to make amends?"
Mark wadded up his napkin and tossed it upon the table. "Because I have as much pride as you," he responded regretfully. Rising to his feet, he circled the small table, took Erica's hands, and drew her up to face him. "We are a perfect match, my pet, and you know that as well as I do." He leaned down to kiss her, but Erica turned her head to avoid his lips, and his affectionate gesture landed upon her cheek.
"Please don't," the lovely blonde beseeched softly. "Just accept things the way they are and don't try and change them."
"You are asking the impossible," Mark responded truthfully.
Erica refused to allow herself to react to the tenderness of his manner and continued to voice her own pleas. "If you'll not let Viper spend the night here with me, will you
at least let me go see him? I can scarcely be expected to carry on a coherent conversation with you when I am so worried about him."
Mark frowned darkly, disgusted that nothing he said had the slightest effect upon the willful Erica, but then it never had. "You may see him, but not alone."
When Mark turned toward the door, Erica hurriedly followed. He carried the lantern, and holding it aloft, lit her way. Viper was still sitting where he had been all afternoon. Cold and hungry, he had been given nothing to eat or drink when the soldiers had had their evening meal. He lifted a weary glance to Erica's face, and then, startled by the sight of her elaborate coiffure and expensive gown, he frowned. "If you have come to see me, madam, the least you could have done was bring along a few crumbs from your table. It is what I am usai to eating."
In spite of himself, Mark Randall could not help but laugh, the Indian's request was so humorous. "Sergeant," he called out promptly. "Give the prisoner food and something to drink. We have plenty."
"Yes, sir," came a cry from
the shadows near the fire the men had built to cook their rations.
Intrigued, Mark knelt down beside Viper, and still holding the lantern aloft, he looked him over closely. That the brave was so handsome was still unsettling, but now he realized he was bright, too, and that alarmed him all the more. "If you speak English so well, why wouldn't you talk with me earlier? It would have saved you a bad headache, if for no other reason."
Viper did not reply. Instead, he looked up at Erica, his glance a curious one as it again swept over her stunning apparel. She had on new slippers, and as she was holding her skirt slightly above her feet, he could see she was wearing new silk stockingfs as well. She looked like a princess, while he had been treated without the slightest respect. He had only to remind himself that she was white and he was Indian. Nothing would ever change that, nor the difference in the way they would always be treated. "You have already made your choice?" he asked sullenly, wanting to hear the words from her own lips.
"What choice?" Erica asked, confused by his question, but when Viper cast a significant glance toward Mark, she
suddenly understood. Kneeling beside him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his ebony hair. "To love you is the only choice I will ever make. How can you doubt my love? Do you think if we are parted for a few hours I will forget you or how dearly I love you?"
That impassioned declaration of love was more than Mark could bear. He rose, and taking a firm hold upon Erica's arm, he yanked her to her feet. "That's more than enough of that disgusting display. Tell the savage goodnight." But before Erica could speak those words, he had pulled her away.
When Viper's hands were untied so he could eat, the soldier guarding him failed to notice how loose the rope had become. As he ate the unappetizing food, the brave reconsidered his plan to escape. It was clear to him that Erica was under as heavy a guard as he was, and while he still thought it likely he could make good an escape, he would not abandon her. The mention of a trial both puzzled and perplexed him, for he had never expected to be put on trial. If he was charged only with kidnapping Erica, he was certain she would say she had not been held against her will. If she were allowed to speak in his defense. On the other hand, he would not deny he had fought in the uprising when he had fought, and fought well.
The trooper guarding him took Viper's empty plate, then allowed him to relieve himself before he was again securely bound. This time Viper made no effort to break free. He would face whatever was to come as he always had: bravely. Erica would not desert him; he was certain of her love, but why hadn't she realized how her dressing in such elegant clothes would hurt him?
When Mark followed her back into the house. Erica moved as far away from him as she could. "Stay away from me," she warned. "I'll not share my bed with you, and if you force yourself UF>on me I'll see you're tried for rape."
"I mean only to see that you have all you require to spend a comfortable night." As though to prove that point, he added another log to the fire, then began to stack the dishes upon the table. "You didn't touch your dinner. I will leave it here in case you are hungry later."
"Please go." His presence in the house she had shared with Viper made her horribly uncomfortable, and Erica wanted to be alone with her thoughts. When Mark turned and walked toward her, she tried to back away, but she found the north wall of the small dwelling at her back.
A slow smile curved across Mark's lips as he made one last request. "I will leave you alone until morning, but only if you will kiss me goodnight."
Erica clenched her fists angrily at her sides. "I am Viper's wife, not your fiancee. Can't you accept that?"
"No," Mark replied in full honesty. "As tar as I am concerned, you've had an Indian lover, not a husband. While I consider that regrettable, I told you I'd accept the blame for it. I also intend to make certain that our marriage will be a legal one, and that you'll never have need of any man but me ever again."
Erica did not try and escape him as his arms encircled her waist. His lips were soft and warm as they brushed hers, calling forth bittersweet memories of the love she no longer felt. She stood unyielding, showing not the slightest shred of emotion, until, finally discouraged, Mark dropped his hands to his sides and stepped back.
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "You've been through a terrible ordeal, and perhaps the worst is yet to come. I'll try and have more patience. Goodnight."
Erica watched him go without responding, for while the first days of the uprising had indeed been a horrible ordeal, the weeks she had spent with Viper had been paradise. She could not bear to think the man she loved would be placed on trial. "He is innocent, though," she whispered softly to herself. Then she realized that while his part in the uprising might have been brief, he must have fought as fiercely as any of the other braves. To make matters worse, surely the judges would be white, and after the despicable way the Indians had always been treated, what chance would Viper have in such a biased court?
Suddenly terrified by that thought. Erica ran to the door and called for Mark. In a moment he appeared, his expression a most puzzled one. "Yes, what is it?"
"Just what sort of trials are planned for the Indians who took part in the uprising?" Erica inquired breathlessly, her fears plain in her voice and anxious manner.
Disapix)inted she had not wished to say something jjersonal to him, Mark became defensive. "I paid little attention," he began, "since my only concern was in finding you. The braves are being tried by a military commission. The trials had just begun when I left, so I know very little about them."
"A military commission?" Erica did not like the sound of that at all. "What punishment would such a prejudiced group think appropriate for the Sioux?"
She was already so upset, Mark did not want to add to her worries. "I told you, I paid scant attention to the trials. When we reach Camp Release you can get all the details you want."
When he turned away, their brief conversation over in his view. Erica ran after him. "No, wait. Tell me what little you do know," she implored him.
Mark turned slowly back to face her, his expression grim. "I heard they sentenced some braves to prison terms, while others will be hanged."
"Oh, dear GodI" Erica cried, her heart leaping to her throat. "You'll have to let Viper gol Set him free. Say he got away from you. I'm the one you want, not himl Oh please, let him go!"
Mark wais fast growing accustomed to taking the distraught blonde's arm and leading her into the house, and he did so again. As he closed the door, he cautioned her to be more discreet, while his own mood bordered upon rage. "I don't think any of the troopers overheard you. At least, I hope not. Viper is my prisoner, and I intend to see he is returned to Camp Release to stand trial. The commission will decide his ^ilt or innocence. Don't ask me to do it, because I would just as soon beat him to death with my bare fists as set him free. Now goodnight."
Before he could open the door. Erica threw herself against it to block his way. "You've seen how proud he is. Vip>er will never plead for his life, but I certainly will." The man she loved would hate her forever for what she was about to do, but he would be alive, and that was all that mattered to her. "Let him go and I'll do whatever you ask. I'll marry you tomorrow if you like. I'll go back to Wilmington and be the wife I once wanted to be to you. I promise I will. Just let Viper go, do it now, tonightl"
Mark was sorely tempted to take her up on that bargain, but he wanted her to come to him out of love, not out of misguided devotion to some devilishly handsome Sioux. "What has the man done that makes you so frightened for his life?"
"He's done nothing more than fight to insure the Sioux's right to exist. The government has broken all its promises to his people, and now to try them for protesting that mistreatment in the only manner left to them is obscene!"
Mark knew very little about the causes of the uprising. What he did know, however, was that hundreds of white settlers had been slaughtered. He was amazed that she would take the Indians' side against her own k
ind. "What is obscene, my darling, is to murder innocent women and children to make a point in a political argument. Think about that while you are packing whatever you wish to bring with you tomorrow. We are leaving at dawn, and I'll expect you to be ready to go."
Her spirits crushed after Mark had not even responded to her offer to marry him in exchange for Viper's life. Erica asked in a barely audible whisper, "Do I mean so little to you that you won't even consider setting Viper free?"
Rather than respond with words, Mark pulled her into his arms and kissed her with such brutal passion that he left her lips bruised when he pulled away. "No, my angel, I love you far too much to make you my wife for any reason save love." Having dashed her hopes completely, he left the house, but he took the precaution of posting a sentry at her door so she could not set Viper free herself now that he had refused to do so.
Neither Mark nor Viper slept well, but that Erica had not slept at all was readily apparent when the captain went to her door the next morning. Lavender circles marred the delicate skin beneath her eyes, and her thick lashes did not hide the fact that her lids were puffy as a result of too many tearful hours. While she held herself proudly, she seemed on the verge of tears still.
Not wanting to begin another round of arguments. Erica had chosen to wear her faded blue dress, since the new pink gown was far too fine for riding and she knew without asking that Mark would make her change her clothes if she tried to wear her buckskin dress for travel. She had taken care to pack the soft Sioux garment, the new gown, and the fine new lingerie in a pillow slip, and she had put Vip)er's extra clothes in the to'ightly painted rawhide carryall known as a parfleche, which he had brought with him.
She already knew the tomcat would be unwelcome on the trip and would have to be left behind, so she had left him the scraps of venison from the previous night's supper. Thinking the owners of the farm might return soon, she had left the quilt she had admired folded at the foot of their bed. She had kept the little house spotlessly clean, so she hoped when the farmer and his wife returned they would not be angry to find someone had lived there while they were gone. // they returned, she reminded herself, for it was possible they might be dead, or too