Wild Embrace

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by Cassie Edwards


  Chapter 32

  If ever two were one, surely we,

  If ever man were lov’d by wife, then thee.

  —ANNE BRADSTREET

  The afternoon was fading, the distant hills shaded in purple and gray when Elizabeth awakened. At first she was startled, wondering where she was, and then it came to her—she and Strong Heart had broken away from the others to rest.

  The fire, she thought brooding to herself. It had taken away her father’s dreams, but surely for only a while. As determined as he was, he would rebuild and then Strong Heart’s grandfather would have placed himself in jeopardy for naught.

  Then what? Would Proud Beaver return, to wreak destruction on her father again?

  This time, would her father die?

  The thought sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

  She forced herself to think of better things—of her future with Strong Heart, of being his wife, and the mother of his children. Soon that dream would become a reality, and she would let nothing or nobody stand in the way of the happiness that she had found with this wonderful man.

  “My Suquamish husband,” she whispered to herself, testing the words on her lips, loving them.

  Rising up on one elbow, she gazed at Strong Heart. She smiled and reached a hand out toward him, yet did not touch him for fear of waking him. She had sorely needed sleep, but it appeared that Strong Heart had needed it worse than she. He still slept soundly, his breathing even, the artery at his throat pulsing with a steady beat.

  Her mouth felt as if it was filled with cotton. Elizabeth turned and looked at the stream that caught the last flickering rays of the lowering sun in its rippling water. Careful not to disturb Strong Heart, she rose quietly to her feet and went to the stream and knelt beside it.

  After taking several gulps from her cupped hands, she refreshed herself by splashing water onto her face. She rose slowly again, her stomach growling with hunger.

  She turned and glanced at Strong Heart. He was still asleep.

  She then spied a bush which displayed an array of bright red berries beside the stream, but it was quite a distance from the campsite.

  Her hunger overpowering her caution, Elizabeth started walking toward the bush. When she nearly reached it, she stopped when she heard the sound of an approaching horseman.

  Fear grabbed at her heart, for she had wandered too far from Strong Heart to get back to him quickly enough. She looked anxiously around her, searching for something large enough to hide behind.

  But she found only a copse of birch trees with narrow trunks. She had no choice but to remain in the open, at the mercy of whoever was coming her way. Her only hope was that the horse’s hoofbeats had awakened Strong Heart and he had found her gone. And he would come looking for her with the protection of his rifle.

  Elizabeth·s eyes widened when the horseman came into full view, quickly recognizing Four Winds. He had seen her just at the same moment she had seen him, it seemed, for he was now raising a hand in the air in silent greeting.

  Elizabeth sighed with relief. Then her relief was replaced with apprehension. Four Winds had said that he was going to see Maysie, so why would he be this far from Seattle? Four Winds drew his horse to a skittering halt.

  Elizabeth ran to him as Four Winds slid easily out of the saddle, facing her with a frown. “Four Winds, what is it?” she asked, her voice anxious. “What are you doing here? And where is Maysie?”

  “I shall go for Maysie later,” Four Winds said in a grumble. “Strong Heart’s and your welfare came first.” He looked past Elizabeth’s shoulder, seeing Strong Heart asleep in the distance.

  He then placed a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “I must go and warn Strong Heart,” he said solemnly. “There is not that much time.”

  Elizabeth paled. “Warn him?” she murmured. “Warn him about what? And what do you mean by saying there is not that much time? Tell me, Four Winds. Tell me now.”

  “On my way to get Maysie, I saw a posse leaving Seattle,” Four Winds explained. “I searched for my informant friend who knows everything about everyone to ask where the posse was going. He told me that a rider had come into town, and had been bragging and laughing during a poker game about seeing an Indian and a white woman asleep together in the forest. The new sheriff in town picked up on it and recalled the talk about a woman having escaped prison on the night of the prison’s burning. He figured that this could be the one. He said that she fit the description of the missing woman.” Four Winds paused for a second, and then continued. “The sheriff said that any woman who was sleeping with a low-down Indian would be the sort that would be an escaped fugitive,” he hissed out. “The sheriff also said that the Indian was more than likely the one who had set the fire, and helped her escape. The sheriff gathered together a posse and rode out of town, heading in this direction. Knowing the paths of the forest so well, I took a shortcut, hoping to reach you before those who would like to hang you and Strong Heart.”

  Elizabeth’s head was spinning. What should she do? She turned and gazed at Strong Heart, a sob lodging in her throat at the thought of this wonderful man possibly being arrested. The thought of the hanging platform haunted her. She had to do something to protect Strong Heart from having to face such a ghastly end as that. His people depended on him. He was the future for his people. And although he was also her future, her life, she suddenly knew what she must do to save him.

  She turned to Four Winds and grabbed him by the arm, her eyes pleading. “Don’t go to Strong Heart with this news. I have a plan that will spare him the humiliation of being arrested. Please cooperate with me, Four Winds. Will you?”

  “What plan?” Four Winds asked, raising an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I will leave Strong Heart while he sleeps, ride on and meet the posse, and draw them away from Strong Heart,” Elizabeth said hurriedly. “Four Winds, don’t you see? It is the only way! It is best for Strong Heart. It is best for his people. Please trust me. Don’t awaken Strong Heart. Let me go alone.”

  Four Winds was torn, yet saw the logic in her plan. And even though he knew that Strong Heart might hate him for it, he decided that, ah-hah, he would do as the white woman asked.

  “Take my horse,” Four Winds said, handing the reins over to Elizabeth. “It would wake Strong Heart if you went for his.”

  Weak with fear, yet digging deep within herself to find the courage to make this sacrifice for her beloved, Elizabeth nodded and lifted herself into the saddle. “Thank you,” she said, gazing down at Four Winds. “Thank you for understanding. You see, Four Winds, I love your friend more than life itself. I only hope that this plan works.”

  Four Winds gave her the direction that she should take in order to run head-on with the posse. Then he stepped back and allowed her to leave, although he knew that the dangers were many in agreeing to the schemes of a woman. But for Strong Heart, he would do anything.

  Turning slowly, he looked toward his sleeping friend, wondering how he would tell him. He knew that Strong Heart would become crazed with anger. Then, after he calmed down, hopefully he would understand both his woman’s and his best friend’s motives—which were for the benefit of the Suquamish.

  It felt good to Four Winds to be doing something that was no longer selfish.

  He waited for some time, to give Elizabeth a good start, then went to Strong Heart and knelt beside him. “Strong Heart, wake up,” he said, touching his arm, and gently shaking it. “It is I, Four Winds. Wake up.”

  Strong Heart blinked his eyes as he stared blankly up at Four Winds. “Four Winds?” he said, rising to a sitting position. “What are you doing here?”

  Then Strong Heart’s eyebrows lifted when he looked at Elizabeth’s empty blankets. He bolted to his feet and looked anxiously around him, then faced Four Winds as he rose to stand before him.

  “Where is Elizabeth?” Strong Heart demanded, glaring at Four Winds. “She is not here and you are. Why is that, Four Winds? What have you
done with my woman? When we last parted it was as friends—as trusting friends. And now I find my woman gone. Where is she, Four Winds?”

  Four Winds placed both of his hands onto Strong Heart’s shoulders. “My friend . . .” he said, and went on to explain what he had heard, and what Elizabeth had decided to do.

  Strong Heart was breathless with a building rage that Four Winds had allowed Elizabeth to do something as foolish as this.

  “If my woman suffers at the hands of the white authorities, you will pay the price,” Strong Heart said, jerking free of Four Winds’s grip. “I must go and find her. If I am too late—”

  Four Winds interrupted Strong Heart. “I pray that you listen to reason,” he said, his voice low. “Ride on to your Village. Consider the welfare of your people!”

  “Do you not see that I am considering the welfare of my people by not going to my village without Elizabeth?” Strong Heart said between gritted teeth. “Ah-hah, it is true that I will one day be chief of my people. But do you not understand that a chief whose life is empty from the loss of his woman is no chief at all? And that my people would suffer because of it? I must go for Elizabeth. It is my duty to protect her—the woman who will one day be a Suquamish princess!”

  “I beg of you to reconsider,” Four Winds persisted. “Should the white woman be arrested, she would not be jailed for long. Her father would find a way to get her freed!”

  “That is not so,” Strong Heart grumbled. “Her father is a worthless man who thinks only of himself!”

  He suddenly realized that they had only one horse between them, and he set his jaw as he glared at Four Winds. Strong Heart would not be the one who would be forced to walk. Four Winds had been foolish enough to give his horse to Elizabeth, so Four Winds would have to pay the price by going on by foot!

  But even as Strong Heart was angrily thinking this, he knew that Four Winds would not suffer at all without a horse. The village was near, and Four Winds was known for his ability to beat anyone who challenged him in footraces. Tonight, Four Winds would use his skills well, it seemed.

  “Which way do I go to find my la-daila?” Strong Heart said, scowling into Four Winds’s face. When Four Winds did not respond and instead stubbornly set his jaw, Strong Heart placed his hand at Four Winds’s throat and began softly squeezing. “Tell me, or . . . you . . . shall die!”

  Knowing that Strong Heart was angry enough to do as he threatened, Four Winds gasped out the answer.

  Strong Heart released his hold on Four Winds, and then without another word, not even a farewell, Strong Heart ran to his horse and was soon riding away through the darkness.

  He prayed to the Great Spirit that he would not be too late.

  * * *

  Starlight, pale and cold, filled the black, velvety sky. The moon lit the meadow that stretched out before Elizabeth like lamplight, enough for her to see the men approaching her on horseback in the distance. Panic swept through her. For an instant she wanted to turn her horse around and retreat into the forest that she had just left.

  But the haunting memory of the hanging platform coming quickly to her mind kept her urging Four Winds’s horse into a steady gallop toward the posse, her chin held high. She would not let Strong Heart down, now or ever.

  And this was the only way.

  Elizabeth drew her rawhide reins tightly and waited. She was soon surrounded by the men, with their firearms drawn and aimed at her. Her gaze stayed on the man in the lead, his sheriff’s badge reflecting the moon’s glow back into her eyes.

  Sheriff Ethan Dobbs tipped his wide-brimmed Stetson hat at her. “Sheriff Dobbs at your service, ma’am,” he said in a Texan drawl. “Will you pleasure us men with your company into Seattle? Of course, you know we cain’t take no for an answer.”

  Deputy Franks, a youngish man with a spray of golden hair escaping the brim of his hat, edged his horse closer to the sheriff’s. “Sheriff, where’s the Injun?” he said, his dark eyes raking over Elizabeth, grinning at her from ear to ear.

  “Ask the woman,” Sheriff Dobbs said, nodding toward Elizabeth, who had not yet spoken a word for she was terrorized by the number of men and their weapons.

  “Ma’am,” Deputy Franks asked, now moving his horse closer to her. “There was an Injun with you. Where is he now?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Elizabeth finally said, hating it when her voice broke from fear. “And may I ask why you have stopped me? I am on my way to Seattle. My father is waiting for me. Please allow me to pass.”

  She knew that she had never been good at lying, but she was giving it her best. Yet she feared that no matter what she said, she was going to be arrested. Hopefully, she could talk them out of searching further for Strong Heart. If not, she had failed him miserably.

  “It’s too bad such a looker as you has to also be a cheat and a liar,” Sheriff Dobbs said, nodding for Deputy Franks to rejoin the others. “Come along peaceful-like, miss. Don’t force me to put handcuffs on those pretty wrists of yours.”

  Her hopes rising that they were more interested in her than Strong Heart at least for now, Elizabeth nodded. “All right,” she agreed. “I’ll cooperate. Just please don’t handcuff me.”

  “I said I wouldn’t if you came along peacefully,” Sheriff Dobbs growled, nodding an order for the men to holster their firearms.

  But before they had a chance to, Strong Heart could be seen riding across the meadow in a fast gallop toward them.

  Elizabeth turned with a start and felt faint when she saw that it was him, but understood why he had come. For the same reason as hers, he was ready to face the white authorities—to protect his love.

  “It’s the Injun!” Deputy Franks shouted, then rode on and met Strong Heart’s approach. He soon returned with Strong Heart’s weapons laid across his lap, and Strong Heart at his side. “By damn, Sheriff, he’s come to give hisself up. Ain’t that a hoot?”

  Sheriff Dobbs rode up beside Strong Heart, slowly looking him up and down. “Do you have a name?” he asked, spitting over his shoulder.

  “Ah-hah,” Strong Heart said stiffly, as he gazed lovingly at Elizabeth.

  “And what the hell does that mumbo jumbo mean?” Sheriff Dobbs said in a feral snarl. “Speak English when you’re speaking to me. Do you hear me, damn it? I ain’t no heathen with a heathen’s education.”

  Elizabeth paled as she saw the fire leap into Strong Heart’s eyes as he turned them on the sheriff. And she blamed herself. If she had awakened Strong Heart and fled with him into the hills, instead of trying to take everything into her own hands, perhaps her beloved could have been spared this humiliation.

  But, in time, they would have been found, and then how much worse would it have been for him? No matter what she would have done, it would have been wrong.

  “Strong Heart,” Strong Heart finally said, then turned his gaze back to Elizabeth. “The woman. Release her. She is innocent. I shall take her place in the jail cell.”

  “Hah, ain’t that a laugh?” Sheriff Dobbs taunted. “Injun, you are both under arrest.” He leaned his face into Strong Heart’s. “But don’t get any crazy ideas that you two’ll share the same cell. We won’t have no Injun fraternizing with any white woman, even if she is the criminal kind, herself.”

  Tears flooded Elizabeth’s eyes and she had to look away from Strong Heart. Her heart was heavy from having failed the man she loved. She flinched when she heard the snap of handcuffs and knew that Strong Heart was not being treated as gently as she. In the heart of white men who did not understand the honor of an Indian, the Indian always posed a threat to them.

  Hanging her head, Elizabeth rode off with the posse, Strong Heart somewhere behind her. She did not have to see him to know that he was even now a noble presence as he rode with his shoulders squared, and his head lifted high.

  Chapter 33

  Thy love is such I can no way repay.

  —ANNE BRADSTREET

  The next day was gray, a light drizzl
e misting the air. Maysie drew back a sheer curtain and peered up the long avenue, disheartened. Four Winds had not come for her as promised. She nervously wrung her hands, fearing that the reason for his absence might be that he had been gunned down by the outlaws that he had abandoned.

  Or perhaps the new sheriff had caught up with him and had thrown him back in jail.

  She would not allow herself to believe that he had had second thoughts about taking her away to be his wife. He had spoken with such sincerity when he had talked about taking her to his village, so that they could both begin a new life there.

  He had talked about how one day he would be chief, if his father had not yet chosen someone else to take his place.

  “My dear, hasn’t he arrived yet?” Marilyn said, moving to Maysie’s side. She took Maysie’s hand. “Please quit worrying. He’ll be here. I saw how he looked at you, my dear. No man looks at a woman like that unless he loves her.”

  “Oh?” Earl said, entering the parlor. “Does that apply to me? Do you see me look at you in a special way, darling?”

  As Marilyn made her way toward him, her blue silk dress and the many ruffled petticoats beneath it rustled voluptuously. Earl gazed at her, then looked around the room. Its decor had changed to something more modest. The red velveteen chairs, lounges, and drapes had been discarded. In their place was more simple furniture—that which matched Marilyn and Earl’s finances.

  Although Marilyn had had a roaring business during her reign as the renowned madam of Seattle, the man in charge of her ledgers and her money had fled, taking with him a good portion of what she had earned.

  But there was enough money to last for many more years if they spent wisely, not wasting a cent of it.

  Earl’s heart warmed and his eyes twinkled as Marilyn locked her arm through his, gazing up at him as if she had never loathed or deserted him.

  “My darling Earl, although it is dreary and gray outside, inside, where you are here with me, I see only sunshine,” Marilyn murmured, rising on tiptoe to give him a soft kiss on his lips. “And don’t you smell the delicious dinner Frannie is cooking for us? Your favorite, Earl—beef pot roast and for dessert, a mouthwatering rhubarb pie.”

 

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