We parted in silence, we parted by night,
On the banks of that lonely river.
—MRS. CRAWFORD
The sun was low in the sky. The shadows lengthened around Strong Heart and Elizabeth as they rode silently through the forest. Up ahead, Elizabeth’s house loomed through a break in the trees.
Elizabeth gave Strong Heart a downcast look. She was weary not only from the long travel, but also from searching for hours in this forest for where Proud Beaver might be hiding.
Elizabeth’s muscles were sore from the many hours in the saddle, even though the Indian saddle was stuffed with thick layers of cottonwood and cattail down. She was not used to this sort of life—this life of adventure.
And although it meant being parted from Strong Heart, she looked forward to telling her father about her upcoming marriage to the handsome Suquamish brave. It would be a reprieve before she would have to make the long journey back to Strong Heart’s village.
She glowed inside, thinking about what would happen once they were back at his village. She had agreed to be his wife. From that time on, they would never have cause to be separated. It would be like living a dream, to be with the man she loved from morning ’til night.
“The sun soon sleeps as the moon replaces it in the sky,” Strong Heart said, drawing his reins and stopping his horse. Elizabeth followed his lead and her horse stopped beside his. “It is best that we give up the search for my grandfather. He knows the art of elusiveness too well. He does not want to be found. So be it. There is only so much a grandson can do for a grandfather. Now I must return to my people, to my duties to them.”
Elizabeth reached a hand to his bronze cheek. “Darling, you do understand why I won’t be returning with you right now? That I must make all wrongs right with my father? I’ve been selfish until now to only consider my feelings. Although he does not always show how much he loves me, I am sure he does and is very concerned over my welfare.”
“What man could not love you?” Strong Heart said, taking her hand, kissing its palm. “My la-daila, I am fighting jealousy over you putting another man before me. But I know that loyalty is owed to parents. This lightens the burden of jealousy within my heart. Go to your father. Stay as long as it takes to make him understand. Then return to me. I have been careful to map the way for your return. But do not travel alone. If your father is at peace with this that you wish to do, and has agreed, ask him to accompany you to my village. There I will pay him gifts for you. There he will join our wedding celebration. It will be a good time of camaraderie and understanding, this time spent with our people and your father.”
Elizabeth smiled weakly at Strong Heart, easing her hand from his. “You make it sound easy,” she murmured. “I shall try, Strong Heart. But if I do not return soon, please come for me. No matter if my father understands or not, I want to be with you. Come and take me back with you. Please?”
Strong Heart reached for her and placed his hands at her waist. He lifted her from her horse and placed her on his lap facing him.
Breathless from the surprise of what he had done, Elizabeth then laughed softly as she twined her arms around his neck, drawing his lips close to hers. “How foolish of me to even ask if you would come for me,” she breathed, as he brushed her lips with a teasing kiss, his hands on her breasts, massaging them through the soft buckskin of her dress. “I’m surprised that you are allowing me to part from you for even one second. Our time together is so wonderful, Strong Heart. So wonderful.”
She looked at him, a pout on her lips. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she complained. “I’m not sure I can stand being away from you.”
“Then do not stay behind without me,” Strong Heart urged, his hands now at the fringed hem of her dress, pushing it up her legs. “Return with me. Forget your father.”
Elizabeth’s face flushed hotly and she flung her head back so that her hair hung in silken red streamers down her back as she felt him slip his manhood into her. He began the sweet rocking rhythm.
Elizabeth moaned as she clutched Strong Heart about his neck. It felt wicked making love on a horse. Wicked doing it so close to her father’s house, where he might even now be pacing the floor in worry about her.
But her insides were burning from the passion that her beloved always evoked in her. She knew that this was his way of saying good-bye. Strong Heart was such a sensual man, such a splendid, romantic lover. He had awakened in her feelings that surely no other man could have ever awakened.
Now, as she rode him, his body thrusting his satin shaft within her, so pleasurably filling her, she could not deny that he was the answer to all of her tomorrows—her need for him perhaps even stronger than his for her.
Yes, she would return to him, for without him, she would be only half a woman.
But first, she must see her father. She could not forget that without her, her father was alone. She hoped that he could bear his loss.
Then she felt foolish for thinking that, knowing that his business was all of his tomorrows—not her.
The heat building within her made Elizabeth feel euphoric. She could tell that Strong Heart was feeling the same, for his moans of pleasure filled the air, echoing into the forest that lay on each side of them.
And then that peak of bliss was reached.
Afterward, they clung to one another, Elizabeth still straddling him, their cheeks pressed together.
“You still say good-bye to Strong Heart?” he asked throatily, as he placed a finger to her chin and directed her eyes up to his. “I have not persuaded you to return with me?”
“Your ways of persuasion are unique,” Elizabeth said, laughing softly. “But, darling, I still must stay and talk to my father. Please tell me that you understand.”
“Ah-hah, I understand,” Strong Heart said, tracing a finger down one of her cheeks. “And in your absence I will do what I must, to make things right for my people. As soon as I return to my village, I will get many braves together and leave to search for the culprits responsible for the raid. And this must be done soon, for the autumn salmon run must be prepared for. Without the salmon, the lives of the Suquamish are not as easy. Ah-hah, and when it comes time to participate in the harvest of the salmon, it will be done with you at my side as my wife.”
Elizabeth sighed and hugged him. “It sounds so magical. I so want it to be that way.”
“And why should it not?” Strong Heart challenged, again holding her away from him so that their eyes could meet.
“Strong Heart, I’m not able to forget the threat that lies over your head, should you be suspected of having set Four Winds free,” Elizabeth said, her voice trembling. “That, alone, clouds my hopes for the future, Strong Heart. What if the sheriff discovers that I am home, and questions me? Will he be able to tell that I am lying when I tell him nothing about you? I have never been skilled at lying.” She cast her sight downward. “Never before have I had cause to lie.”
He placed a finger to her chin and brought her eyes to his again. “Knowing me brings too much pain in your life,” he said sadly. “I am sorry for that.”
“Never be sorry for this that you and I have found together,” Elizabeth said, then kissed him softly and sweetly.
She drew away from him. “I must go now. The sooner I get on with this thing that I must do, the sooner we will be together again.”
“That is so,” Strong Heart said, nodding. He pulled her dress down, then lifted her over onto her horse. “Go. I shall watch until you are safely at the house. Then I shall search awhile longer for my grandfather. But only for a short while. My people await my return. I must not worry them needlessly.”
Tears misted Elizabeth’s eyes as she gave Strong Heart a lingering look, realizing how slim the chances were that they might be together again. Danger seemed to be lurking everywhere, not only for her, but also for the man that she loved. He could fall victim to evil white men and Indian renegades. She wondered if Four Winds was a man who could be trusted
. What if he was a renegade, guilty of all sorts of horrendous crimes? Would he go as far as committing a crime against his own people? Against his friend?
Shaking these thoughts from her mind, afraid that if she thought much more about it, she might return with Strong Heart after all, and her father would forever worry about her. That was not fair of her, she decided firmly.
“I shall see you soon,” Elizabeth said, tears rushing from her eyes. “Please ride with care, darling.”
“Kla-how-ya, goodbye, my la-daila,” Strong Heart said, placing a fist over his heart. “My tum-tum, heart, already misses you.”
Elizabeth brushed the tears from her cheeks, gave Strong Heart a feeble smile, then wheeled her horse around. Without looking back, she urged her steed into a hard gallop away from him.
When she rode through the open gate, she continued until she reached the stables behind the house. Dismounting, she led her horse inside the stables, and then jumped with alarm when Everett stepped from the darkness into the dim light of a lantern that hung just inside the door.
“You frightened me,” Elizabeth said, placing a hand to her throat.
Everett took the lantern from its nail on the wall and held it above him, walking slowly toward Elizabeth. “You frightened me,” he said, his dark eyes wide. “You’re the last person I expected to see. Your father is leadin’ a posse even now, searchin’ for you.”
“Father is-is a part of a posse?” Elizabeth said, paling and looking past Everett, to the darkness outside. Her thoughts went to Strong Heart, now fearing more than ever for him. If a posse was out there somewhere searching for her, Strong Heart might come right into the midst of them!
Then she willed her heart to stop its racing, reminding herself that no one in the posse knew of Strong Heart’s role in Four Winds’s escape, or her abduction. Strong Heart would be just an innocent traveler on his way home.
No, she tried to convince herself—she had nothing to fear. Strong Heart would be all right. He would be all right.
Then she noticed Everett staring at her attire. He shifted his eyes slowly to the Indian saddle on the horse. Her heart plummeted to her feet, knowing those things were enough to reveal to anyone that she had been among Indians. And that might be fatal.
Trying not to show her uneasiness, Elizabeth went to the saddle and removed it from the horse. Boldly, she turned and handed it to Everett. “I want you to hide this for me,” she said crisply. “And, Everett, if you value your position with my father, you will never tell anyone about the saddle. Do you understand?”
Everett gulped hard as he sat the lantern aside and took the saddle. “Yes’m,” he said, nodding his head. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”
She slowly ran her hand down the buckskin dress. “And don’t you breathe a word, either, about this dress that I’m wearing. It is nobody’s affair but my own. Do I make myself clear, Everett?”
“Yes’m,” he said, again nodding. “I won’t say a word. Not to no one.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, exhaling a long breath and relaxing her shoulders. “I truly thank you.”
She turned and left the stables, dreading having to meet Frannie and her curiosity when she saw how Elizabeth was dressed.
But Frannie had to know, as did her father, eventually. For now, she had been given a reprieve. Hopefully she would at least get a night’s sleep in her bed before her father arrived home and she would have to face him.
Chapter 18
How can I live without thee?
How forego thy sweet converse,
and love so dearly joined?
—MILTON
The sun poured through the bedroom window in streamers across the drab furniture and hardwood floor. The forest beyond was alive with the music of birds. The pulse of the waves crashing endlessly against the beach below seemed to echo Elizabeth’s heartbeat.
As she brushed her hair in long strokes, Elizabeth stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had changed overnight, it seemed, to the person she had always been. She no longer wore a buckskin dress or moccasins. Today, for her planned outing on the beach, she had chosen to wear a light blue, eyelet wrap dress with white cotton-eyelet pantaloons and petticoat with crocheted trim.
“No matter what I wear, my heart will forever be changed,” she whispered to herself. “Strong Heart, darling. Oh, how I miss you.”
She shifted her gaze and looked with melancholy at the buckskin dress that she had laid ever so gently over the back of a chair the previous evening. Frannie had peppered her with questions as to where she had got the dress, and why she had been wearing it.
Elizabeth was silent, refusing to answer any of Frannie’s questions. So Frannie’s conclusion, that Elizabeth had been with Indians, had made Frannie almost faint with fright. She had grabbed the dress and announced she would burn it.
Elizabeth took back the dress and told Frannie that this dress belonged to a sweet Indian maiden, someone who was Elizabeth’s friend.
But she hadn’t explained any more to Frannie. That would have to wait until Elizabeth had been given the chance to first talk with her father. Once he understood that she was in love, then she would tell Frannie her secret. But not until then.
Elizabeth’s thoughts went to Maysie. “Sweet Maysie,” she whispered to herself as she lay the hairbrush aside. “If only I could go search for her.”
When Frannie had told her that Maysie had left without telling anyone, a sudden ache had risen in Elizabeth’s heart.
But she knew that she couldn’t go into Seattle for anything, not even to try and find Maysie. Yet Elizabeth could not stop thinking about that day when she had found Maysie walking into the Sound, and had discovered Maysie’s life of prostitution.
“And so’s you still determined to keep that dress I sees,” Frannie said, entering the bedroom with an armful of fresh linens. She laid the linens on the bed and turned to Elizabeth, folding her arms angrily across her thick bosom. “You still too stubborn to tell ol’ Frannie where you’ve been these long days and nights?”
Elizabeth went to Frannie and placed a gentle hand to her plump cheek. “Isn’t it enough for now that I am home safe?” she asked softly. “Please don’t ask any more questions until I am ready to tell you everything. First, I must talk to Father.”
Elizabeth turned and walked to the window and looked down at the yard below. “Father hasn’t returned yet,” she said, her voice full of concern. “I wonder what’s taking him so long?”
She was worried not only about her father’s delay, but also about Strong Heart’s welfare because of it. What if they had met on the trail?
What if her father somehow knew of Strong Heart’s guilt, and even now was ushering him into a cell at the prison?
Her imagination worked overtime. She felt that she must think of something else or she would go insane from worry. Elizabeth turned abruptly and walked determinedly toward the door.
“I need a breath of fresh air,” she said, grabbing a shawl from a peg on the wall. She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders. “I’m going to take a stroll on the beach, Frannie. I shan’t be too long.”
Frannie rushed after her and grabbed her by the arm, stopping her. “Don’t goes nowhere today, honey,” she pleaded. “Stay in the house where’s you’ll be safe. Ol’ Frannie don’t trust this land, nor nobody. Lordy, Elizabeth, ain’t you glad to be home, in the safety of your house? Why on earth would you trust leavin’ it again, no matter that it’s only to take a walk on the beach? Anything could happen to you. Anything!”
“Frannie, please quit worrying,” Elizabeth said, taking Frannie’s hand, clasping it tightly. “I’m not going to do anything to put myself in danger. All I want to do is take a walk and clear my head of a few things. Start my breakfast. I’ll be back to eat it before you can flip a stack of flapjacks onto my plate.”
Frannie sighed heavily and shook her head, then pulled her hand from Elizabeth’s. “If that is as long as you plan to be gone, I sees no tru
e harm in it,” she said, her dark eyes concerned. “Go on. The sooner you get your strollin’ over with, the sooner you’ll be back here with me so’s I can keep my eye on you.”
“Frannie, I don’t need anyone keeping an eye on me,” Elizabeth said. “I can take care of myself.”
“Hah!” Frannie said haughtily. “You sure do have strange ways of provin’ it.”
Elizabeth looked down into Frannie’s face and tried to smile. “I’m here, aren’t I?” she asked in a lighthearted manner. “I’m all right, aren’t I?”
“For now,” Frannie said, giving Elizabeth a disapproving stare. Then she walked past her and went downstairs with heavy footsteps.
When Elizabeth reached the first-floor landing, she took a straw hat from a hat rack and placed it on her head, tying its satin bow beneath her chin. Then without the usual spring in her step, she went on outside.
She crossed the estate grounds, through the wide gate, and walked toward the beckoning waves of the Sound. When she reached the steep incline that led down to the beach, she stopped momentarily to look at the large building that would soon be processing salmon for export.
Today there were men busy putting finishing touches to the building. She could even make out Morris Murdoch among them. She realized that he would have to have stayed behind instead of joining her father on the posse. He seemed to be enjoying having full control in her father’s absence as he shouted curse words to the workmen.
Recalling his cold, blue eyes, and how being around him gave her a sense of discomfort, Elizabeth shivered with distaste. She was careful not to be seen as she moved down the rocky slope, and sighed with relief when she reached the sandy stretch of beach.
The wind was warm and soothing, the sprays of water from the Sound were salty on her lips as she began walking aimlessly along the beach. Her eyes looked across the water to the mountains in the distance. She recalled how the lightning had played across the peak of Mount Rainier, and how the thunder had shook the earth on her journeys with Strong Heart.
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