White Nights

by Susan Edwards

  “I thought tha plan was ta wait till Oregon.”

  “Still is. But no harm in lettin’ her know jest where she stands. I seen her and that bastard kissin’.” Birk’s hands clenched into two tight fists. “He’ll die fer touchin’ her.”

  Inside, Birk burned every time he thought of Eirica with that Jones man. What really riled him was watching that damn Jones bastard act as if he had a right to be with his children. Well, Birk had news for the pair of them. The bitch was still his. Them brats was his. It was time both of them knew she still belonged to him.

  Putting Lara back inside the handcart, he gave Zeb instructions as to what to do with the lock of hair.

  “Meet me back ’ere, then,” Birk ordered. “And be ready to ride.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Eirica knew James was right. Someone had to stay at the campsite while others were off looking for her daughter, but she hated feeling helpless. “Oh, Lara girl, where are you?” Fear made her feet feel like lead. The sight of that dirty blanket Lara never let go of, except when Eirica insisted on washing it, deepened her apprehension. As she nursed Summer, her gaze searched the landscape, desperately seeking her daughter.

  Suddenly, it was there, that odd sensation of an unseen watcher. Shivering, she turned in a slow circle, her gaze roaming over men and women taking advantage of the fading daylight. Over the last few weeks, usually in the evenings, this same feeling had come and gone at odd moments, and yet she’d never found anyone suspicious looking her way.

  She shook off the eerie feeling, putting tonight’s episode down to her frazzled nerves. Over and over, she prayed for Lara’s safe return. When Summer finished nursing, Eirica rubbed her tiny back. After a satisfying burp, she laid Summer down in the wooden crate she’d padded, making it into a makeshift bed. Picking it up, she took the infant into the tent, out of the cooling night air. Then she cleaned up Ian, who was nearly asleep, and put him to bed.

  Alison was still staring at her plate, her food untouched when Eirica returned. Eirica knew her eldest child was remembering her own ordeal of being kidnapped a few months ago. She bent down and pulled Alison into her arms. “We’ll find Lara, sweetheart. How about helping me by picking up the toys?”

  “Yes, Mama.” Alison went to do her bidding, her steps slow and dragging.

  Feeling a cold chill slide through her, Eirica went into the tent to fetch her shawl. Alison entered a few minutes later with her skirt bunched in her arms, the wooden toys from Rook neatly gathered there. She dumped them in one corner of the tent, then sat, her gaze wide and worried. “James will find Lara, Mama. He found me.” Her voice shook and her lower lip trembled. Tears followed.

  Eirica knew her daughter’s words stemmed from a desperate need to believe that James would make her world right again. Wiping the silent tears from her daughter’s face, she smoothed tangled strands of hair from Alison’s face then gathered the child close, searching for the words to reassure her. Eirica knew she had to be strong, had to reassure her daughter, but what could she say?

  Alison pulled away. “Maybe bad people got Lara like they got me and Jessie.” Her blue eyes were wide, her chin trembling.

  Eirica’s composure nearly broke. It went against her grain to give her daughter false hope, but hope was all that kept Eirica from becoming hysterical. “Let’s not think bad things. Lara probably just wandered off and got lost like Ian did a few weeks ago. Now, let’s get you into bed, sweetheart.”

  Alison sniffed, but let Eirica remove her dress and wipe her face and hands with the wet cloth she had brought to clean the worst of the dirt from Ian.

  With Alison laying silent in her bed, Eirica fled outside, afraid she’d break down in front of the child. She didn’t want to scare her eldest, yet she couldn’t hold her own tears at bay any longer. Alone in the growing darkness, Eirica paced outside her tent, trying to penetrate the gloom covering the land, searching for one small little girl.

  James will find her. She found herself clinging to the same hope as her daughter. Trying to keep busy, to keep her mind off the unthinkable, Eirica loaded her food back into the wagon. Bending down, she reached for a sack of beans and froze. On top of the tied-off bag lay a small lock of golden-red curls. Prickles of unease skittered up her spine and the back of her hand flew to her mouth. It looked like some of Lara’s hair. She picked it up, rubbed the soft strands between her fingers, then clenched the lock in her fist.

  Her heart thumped hard in her chest. How did this get here? More importantly, who’d put it there? Moving away from the wagon, away from her camp, Eirica felt totally confused and frightened. What should she do? Where was James? She needed to show him her find.

  Frantically, her gaze roamed the area behind her wagon, toward the river, moving outward, looking for something, anything out of kilter. But everything looked normal. There were many families she knew, many she didn’t. Men and women walked back and forth from the river, some with dishes, others with pots heavy with water. She tracked one couple back to their wagon.

  A short, stocky man tore around a wagon and shoved past them, knocking the woman over. The couple’s angry shouts made Eirica shake her head. Some folk were so rude. Suddenly, something about the man who’d hurried by penetrated the fog of fear holding her in its grip. Scanning, she spotted him just before he disappeared between two more wagons. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought it was Birk, but that was impossible. Not only was Birk dead, this man’s figure wasn’t as heavy as Birk had been.

  Her gaze went from the lock of hair clutched in her hand back to where the man had disappeared. He was gone. “Now you’re seeing ghosts,” she chided herself, yet she couldn’t shake the notion that something was terribly wrong. He’d moved like her husband, certainly. And it was just like Birk to shove his way past anyone who dared to be in his way.

  Suddenly, Eirica had to know. Though she told herself she was being silly, overreacting, she flagged down Catarina and Marco and asked them to stay with her children. Holding her skirts above her ankles, Eirica ran, searching among the crowded campers for the man who brought back memories that caused her whole being to tremble with terror.

  “Lara!” Over and over, James called the little girl’s name. He stopped everyone he came across and described the little girl, but no one had seen her. On he went, calling her name, asking questions. As the light faded, his fear grew. Where was she? Surely she hadn’t wandered this far on her own, which pointed to an even worse.

  Stopping, he ran his fingers through his hair. Not too many people were moving about now. Most had retired to their tents or were sitting in front of fires. After several more fruitless minutes of searching, he replaced his hat and headed back, following the river. God, he hoped she hadn’t fallen in. He shuddered at the thought.

  A short ways from camp, James spotted Eirica running in the direction he’d already searched. He frowned, his gut tightening. He ran after her. “Eirica!”

  When she turned and saw him, he feared the worst. Her face was devoid of color, her eyes wide and frightened. He grabbed her shoulders. “What is it? Did you find her?”

  “No.” Her voice came out on a long sob. “Someone took her. Someone took my baby. I think it was Birk.”

  James folded her into his embrace. “Honey, we don’t know that for sure.” The full impact of her breathless cry hit him. He held her away from him, looking closely at her. Had the strain of the last hour somehow confused her mind? Birk was dead.

  “Eirica, sweetheart, Birk can never hurt you or your children again.”

  “What if he isn’t dead? What if he didn’t drown? We never found his body. She held up a lock of hair. “I found this, near the wagon. Someone came into my camp while I was in the tent with the children and left this. It’s Lara’s hair.” Her voice broke.

  “When I was looking around to see if I could see who’d put it there, I saw him. I saw a man who looked like Birk.”

  Stunned, James shook his head. “That’s not possibl
e. He drowned.” James took the lock from her, rubbing the silky softness between his thumb and forefinger, more concerned than ever. “Did you see his face?”

  Sobbing, Eirica shook her head. “No. I only saw him from the back. I ran after him but he was gone.” She grabbed ahold of him. “I’m so afraid, James.”

  James didn’t know what to think. “Eirica, are you sure this wasn’t there before you noticed Lara missing? Could she or Alison or one of Anne’s daughters have cut her hair?”

  “No. It wasn’t there. I’m positive.” She hugged herself. “What am I going to do if Birk has her?” Terror laced her question.

  James rubbed the back of his neck. The thought of that man getting ahold of even one of the children horrified him as well, yet he had to hold on to reason. Right now, they didn’t know for sure that the man Eirica saw was actually Birk.

  “Calm down, Eirica. Think. There must be hundreds of men out here who look like him from behind.”

  Eirica squeezed her eyes shut. “True. But not many are so rude.” She explained the behavior she’d witnessed. “Besides, who else would kidnap her?”

  The bleak certainty in her voice chilled him to his soul. He also had to agree the rudeness coupled with kidnapping his own child sounded exactly like something Birk would do. He thought about what Eirica had told him. Something occurred to him. “Eirica, if you saw Birk, that means he didn’t have Lara. She has to be around here somewhere.”

  “The river,” Eirica cried. “He was coming from the river.”

  In horror, they stared at one each other, then took off running. “God, he wouldn’t hurt her. Oh, please,” Eirica sobbed, stumbling.

  James kept ahold of her arm as they made their way back to the river. The sound of frantic barks and howls made them break out into a run. As they drew nearer, they heard the shrill sound of a child’s screams mingling with ferocious barking. Eirica gasped. His pulse quickened.

  “Lara. That’s Lara!”

  “Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.” But James felt hope swell in his own chest. If it was Lara, she had to be alive. “It’s coming from behind those rocks near the river!” Together, they rounded the boulders and stopped behind a group of men and woman gathered before the water, each drawn by the hysterical screams and the barking. Eirica and James shoved their way through. Sitting a foot deep in the water, James saw an abandoned handcart. The screams were coming from inside it.

  In front, standing in the shallow water, the white wolf Wahoska stood guard, allowing no one near. His teeth were bared, his fur ruffled and his tail swishing in and out of the water. Deep growls kept the onlookers away.

  James ran into the river, reassuring the wolf who stopped barking, but not growling. The two animals ran off when James reached out to tear the cover off the wooden handcart. The sight of Lara, screaming her head off, was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. He spoke softly, his voice hoarse with relief. Gently, he lifted the crying child out. Turning, he handed her to Eirica who waited with arms outstretched. Cheers went up around them, but he barely heard them over the child’s hysteria.

  “Lara. My sweet little girl, it’s all right. Everything is all right.” Over and over Eirica murmured her daughter’s name.

  Beyond calming, Lara clutched at her mother, her voice growing hoarse from screaming. James put his arm around Eirica and led her back through the crowd. “Come on, Eirica, let’s get her back to camp.”

  By the time they reached Eirica’s wagon, Lara’s screams had subsided to choking gasps. James stoked the fire and brought over Eirica’s lard-burning lantern, then he stepped into the tent to grab a quilt. He took a few minutes to reassure Alison that her sister was safe. Then he wrapped the quilt around mother and child and held them both.

  Eirica stroked her daughter’s head, examining the girl as best as she could in the firelight. Threading her fingers through Lara’s hair, she felt the blunt ends where Lara’s hair had been sheared short. “Why?” she whispered, holding the strands up. James ran his fingers along hers. “Why did someone cut her hair?”

  Unspoken between them lay the fear that somehow Birk had survived and was behind this. “I don’t know, Eirica. I don’t know.” None of it made sense to him.

  Finally, the little girl fell into an exhausted sleep. With James assisting, they uncovered her to check for injuries. She seemed unhurt, with no marks or bruises. Eirica frowned. “Her dress has been cut, James. The whole bottom hem is missing and her shoes are gone, the ones that Wolf’s mother and sisters made.” She glanced at him, questions he couldn’t answer lurking in her gaze.

  James had never felt so helpless. And he’d often felt that feeling raising his siblings, especially Jessie. He reached around Eirica to finger a gleaming chain peeping through the skewed neckline of Lara’s dress. “What’s this?”

  “I don’t know.” Soft whimpers from inside the tent warned that Summer was waking.

  James carefully lifted the chain from around Lara’s neck and held it up to the lantern. It glittered in the lamplight. He looked to Eirica.

  She stared at the round medallion dangling from his fingertips. Eirica’s face lost color, her lips were pinched and she covered her mouth to muffle her startled cry. “Oh, my God,” the words broke off, full of horror. “That looks like—it’s Birk’s—”

  “It could be anyone’s, Eirica. Maybe Lara found it.” Even as he said the words, James knew he was wrong. Someone had deliberately put it there.

  Her hands shook when she reached for it. Before she touched the chain, she jerked her fingers back as if afraid it would burn her. “No. No. It’s his. The back. Turn it over.”

  The front showed the virgin mother Mary with baby Jesus, not something James could imagine Birk wearing, though now that he thought of it, he recalled having seen a gold chain around the man’s neck on several occasions. He just hadn’t paid it much mind. He turned over the gold piece and held it close to the lantern. “Looks like it says Proverbs 13:24.”

  “‘He that spareth his rod hateth his son; but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes.’” Eirica recited the verse. She doubled over, nearly crushing Lara in her arms. “God, how many times have I heard him recite that damn verse. Before he beat us—if he wasn’t in an uncontrollable rage—he used to make me, or the children, kiss his belt or the wooden cane, or whatever he’d chosen to use against us. Said his mother had taught him the value of penitence with that verse, that it was his duty to see we paid for our sins.” Her voice broke off on a moan. “No. Oh no, it can’t be him!” She gasped, fighting fear and horror.

  James didn’t want to believe it but he held the evidence in his hand. How could Birk be alive? No one could have survived falling into the snow-fed, swollen Platte River where they’d crossed. Disbelief gave way to fury when he thought of what the man had done to his own child and now to Eirica. He shoved aside his own fears, his own pain and worry. First he had to see to Eirica, to Lara, to this family he loved more than life.

  Fearing she’d wake Lara with her soft sobs, James took the spent girl from her mother and put her to bed in the tent. It took a few minutes of his softly rubbing Lara’s back for the child to fall back into a restless slumber. Alison crawled over to sit by her sister, her big blue eyes filled with silent worry. He ran his fingers through the five-year-old’s curls. “It’ll be all right, Ali. I’m going to stay here tonight. Watch over Lara while I tend to your ma.”

  Back at the fire, James picked up the quilt and wrapped it back around Eirica, then drew her against him. She pressed nearer. Her anguished sobs broke his heart. Every protective instinct within him rose. He’d be damned if the man would ever again get within a stone’s throw of the woman he loved and her children. “Shh, sweetheart. I’m here. I’m not going to let him near you.”

  Eirica couldn’t speak, couldn’t voice her worst nightmare. Her eyes were swollen; her jaw hurt from clenching it so she wouldn’t scream and cry out at the unfairness of it, but the worst of her pain came from her
heart. Her heart lay in torn ruins, hope bleeding from her.

  Birk was alive. The disbelief and horror left her numb. She lifted her head to stare at James. She’d been so close to finding happiness and it had been ripped from her. “He’s alive, James. Birk was here. He took Lara from where she was playing.” The mere thought of him being that close made her stomach roil.

  “He left that lock of hair here, left her where she’d be found, knowing that when I saw that medallion, I’d know it was him. He’s warning me that he’ll take the children from me. Next time, he might actually kill one of them to punish me.”

  “Eirica, there won’t be a next time. Birk will never get near any of you again.” The anguish in James’s voice mirrored her own.

  Shivering, Eirica recalled those moments when she’d felt watched and realized that he’d been following, watching. Anger coursed through her. She clenched the piece of jewelry in her fist, then tore free from James and ran down to the river where she tossed it as far from her as she could.

  How dare he play with her in this manner? How dare he frighten her child? She cursed Birk. She blamed herself for being that innocent young girl who’d fallen for every one of his lies. Anger, fear and guilt washed over her in waves. She hurt so much. How could she survive this? Just knowing Birk was out there, watching, waiting for his chance to reclaim her, left her numb with fear.

  Then the full realization hit her. She wasn’t a widow. She was still a married woman. She hadn’t thought she could hurt more than she already did, but she was wrong. Piece by piece, she was slowly dying.

  James had followed. He pulled her into his arms. “I won’t let him hurt you or those children ever again,” he repeated. “He won’t get near any of you. I’ll die before I let that bastard touch any of you again.”

  His words, harsh and full of deadly promise, hung over their heads. Suddenly, it wasn’t just her and her children in danger. James was in danger as well. Her fury drained. She turned in his arms and gripped his shoulders, frantic to make him understand. “No. No, you can’t. You can’t stay here. He’ll kill you the first chance he gets.”