That is, if Earl did not kill him first.
Morris’s chances were better in court than with Earl, and Morris surely knew that, for there was dread in the depths of his eyes as Earl knelt beside him. The fingers of Earl’s free hand grabbed hold of Morris’s hair, lifting his head up to look eye to eye with Earl.
“You son of a bitch, you tell my daughter the truth about everything, or so help me, Morris, I will take you and make you die a slow, torturous death,” Earl said between gritted teeth. “And don’t think the law won’t allow it. I’d be saving them money by not having to pay a judge to hand down your sentence.”
Morris coughed and clutched at his chest wound, blood seeping through his fingers. “You bastard,” he said, his eyes hazy with pain. “You damn bastard. I should’ve known you’d be bad luck. You brought your bad luck with you from San Francisco. You threw it my way. Damn it, I should’ve known that you were a worthless dumb ass, unable to make things work right.”
“My daughter,” Earl said, yanking harder on Morris’s hair. “Damn it, Morris, tell my daughter the truth. Tell her that I had nothing to do with the attack on the village. Tell her that the only thing I did that was underhanded was place the nets in the river.” He leaned closer to Morris’s face. “Tell her now, or be sorry.”
“How’d you know about this ambush?” Morris breathed out between gasps of pain. He closed his eyes wearily. “Who double-crossed me? Who?”
“You aren’t as smart as you think you are,” Earl said, laughing sarcastically. “There are several among your gang who have turned informants to bargain for their freedom. They were smart enough to know that the end was near for your bastard gang of outlaws.”
“The dumb asses,” Morris said, his eyes flashing with anger. “How could they?”
“Enough of this,” Earl said with a snarl. “I’m waiting for you to tell the truth so that not only my daughter will know it, but also so that Strong Heart can hear you.”
When Morris stubbornly clamped his lips together, Strong Heart stepped forward and knelt on the other side of him. Elizabeth moved closer, her pulse racing.
Strong Heart yanked his knife from its sheath at his waist, and placed the sharp blade against Morris’s throat, “You speak the truth now,” he said, his eyes lit with fire. “Do it for my woman. She deserves all truths. She has earned them.”
Fear creeped into Morris’s eyes. He gulped hard and stared up at Strong Heart. “Her father is innocent of everything, except for putting the nets in the river,” he cried out. “Please. Please . . . move that knife away. I . . . I . . . don’t want to die.”
Tears streamed from Elizabeth’s eyes. She reproached herself for believing all of those ugly things about her father, when all along he was mostly innocent.
Innocent!
Now it was his turn to forgive, it seemed, for she had treated him callously instead of trusting him. In truth, her father had been as wronged as the Suquamish. He had been used by Morris Murdoch in the worst way.
Earl rose slowly to his feet. He flipped his pistol into its holster and turned to Elizabeth. His eyelids heavy, he beckoned for her with his arms to come to him.
“Baby, I’m sorry for all of this,” he said thickly. “My choice of partners was bad, don’t you agree?”
Elizabeth brushed tears from her cheeks and she swallowed back a sob as she broke into a run and flung herself into his arms. “I’m the one who is sorry,” she sobbed, clinging to him. “Will you ever, ever be able to forgive me?”
“How can you ask that?” Earl said, holding her away from him, so that their eyes could meet. “Baby, you have done nothing to be forgiven for. It was your father who is to blame for everything. I’m sorry that I gave you cause to mistrust me. And I shan’t ever cause you another moment’s stress or worry. Your mother and I are going to start a new life together. My life will be centered around family, not business. Will you be a part of our new life, Elizabeth? It would make everything complete for me and your mother.”
“Are . . . are . . . you asking me not to marry Strong Heart?” she asked, her voice wary.
“Not at all,” Earl said, smiling down at her. “Your mother and I want to wish you much happiness with Strong Heart. And we would like to be invited to your wedding. Do you think that can be arranged?”
Fresh tears rose in Elizabeth’s eyes—joyful tears. She again flung herself into her father’s arms. “Yes, yes,” she cried. “It can be arranged.”
Strong Heart looked on, his heart warm, his eyes smiling.
Chapter 36
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
—ANNE BRADSTREET
On their wedding day, Elizabeth sat in the council house on a high platform piled comfortably with soft furs, overlooking their guests: Suquamish from this village and from the reservation. She watched wide-eyed as Strong Heart participated in what was known as a potlatch. She would have felt awkward except that she was not alone on the platform. Her parents sat on one side of her and Strong Heart’s parents on the other side.
Even sweet Frannie had overcome her fear of Indians and had been persuaded to attend. She sat quietly beside Elizabeth’s mother, casting Elizabeth occasional weak smiles.
A number of men were dancing to the sound of drums while the crowd looked on and sang. The dancers wore headbands decorated with the brilliant feathers of woodpeckers, and they carried the skins of albino deer.
As Elizabeth watched, Strong Heart handed out gifts to guests who sat around the fire in the firepit. Her hands stroked her cloak of softly woven wool, trimmed with sea otter fur.
Both of them were dressed in especially festive clothing. She wore a dress of palest doeskin, which had been lavishly decorated with elk’s teeth, bright feathers and fancy quill work, while Strong Heart looked handsome in his cloak of sea otter fur. To mark the occasion, he was also wearing ceremonial head rings and a special collar of cedar bark.
As they had dressed for today, she had watched him pull on leggings and a breechcloth painted with various colors in bright designs beneath his cloak.
She had then seen him as he added the sparkling flakes of mica to his face, which even now glittered under the fire’s glow.
She knew that she had to grow used to these new customs, yet this potlatch did not seem appropriate for the occasion. In her culture, presents were given to the bride and groom—not to those who attended.
But Strong Heart had explained to her that sharing one’s wealth was an honor. The more a person gave to others, the more important he was in their society. The potlatch, meaning “gift giving,” was a way of celebrating important events—today a marriage of a most important man to the woman of his choice.
Strong Heart had warned her not to be alarmed by the amount of gifts that he would give away at the potlatch. He told her that in the coming years, there would be more such celebrations, to impress upon others the wealth that proved his worthiness of the title of chief. They were necessary, these times of spreading his wealth among those who were less fortunate than he or Elizabeth.
Elizabeth had not told him of her uneasiness about this, because she had no right to. She had chosen to live the life of the Suquamish. So she would have to accept all the ways of the Suquamish. And she would. In time, she would know as much as the other women.
Forcing herself not to think about how strange this gift giving was, Elizabeth watched and nodded her approval at Strong Heart each time he held up an object for her to see before he gave it away. Once this exhibition of wealth was over, they would finally join hands in marriage.
She still could not believe that all of the obstacles had been removed and that their lives were going to become normal, with the insanity of the past behind them.
And it had been the same for Four Winds and Maysie. A runner from his village had come to Strong Heart with the news that Four Winds had been accepted into his community, and that he and Maysie had shared their vows as
man and wife already.
Elizabeth and Strong Heart had delayed their wedding day, giving Elizabeth’s parents time to get there to be witnesses to their joyful marriage.
Still she sat patiently as she waited for Strong Heart to bring his gift giving to a close.
But he kept moving around the crowd, his generosity great today. Elizabeth could not help but covet the trade blanket that he was handing to one woman. It was beautiful—dark blue with a red border, embellished with heraldic beasts outlined in pearl buttons.
She also silently admired the baskets, beautifully carved boxes, and decorated hides that he gave away.
And then, surprising Elizabeth, Strong Heart stopped before her parents. “Come with me,” he said, gesturing toward her father specifically. “Your gift awaits you at the river.”
Earl’s mouth opened in wonder. Then he left the platform as Strong Heart continued waving for him to follow.
The drumming, singing, and dancing ceased. Elizabeth and everyone else followed Strong Heart and her father outside, where the western mountains were flushed a red gold, and down to the river.
Strong Heart went to the sandy beach and walked toward a lone, intricately carved canoe. He went to it and laid a hand on the prow, turning and smiling at Earl. “This is my gift to you,” he said. “This will make it easier for you and your wife to come and see your daughter from time to time. The rivers are more gentle than a horse to a woman’s behind.”
Strong Heart glanced over at Elizabeth, his eyes dancing. He hoped that she was remembering their many adventures on horseback. He had silently marveled at her tenacity to keep up with him. He had also seen her grimace while rubbing her sore behind. How her muscles must have ached when they had not been able to stop and rest as often as she would have wished.
Ah-hah, a canoe would be better for her mother, whose age matched Strong Heart’s own mother’s. His mother would rather do anything than climb on a horse.
Elizabeth was touched by Strong Heart‘s thoughtfulness. She went to him and linked an arm through his, as she watched her father look over the canoe, obviously moved by it.
“This is so kind of you,” Earl finally said, looking up at Strong Heart with grateful eyes. “I never expected a gift—especially one of this magnitude. I accept it heartily. Thank you.” He gestured toward his wife. “Marilyn, darlin’, come and see this. The designs carved on this canoe are magnificent. So detailed.” He then noticed something else. Many pelts were spread across the seats. “We shall return to Seattle in this canoe, and leave the horse and buggy in exchange.”
Earl shifted his gaze to Strong Heart. “That is, if you don’t mind taking the horse and buggy off our hands,” he said, knowing that this was the only way Strong Heart would accept anything in return for the generous gift.
“That will be acceptable,” Strong Heart said, smiling back at Earl, realizing exactly what Elizabeth’s father was up to and understanding.
Then Strong Heart clapped a hand to Earl’s shoulder. “Now, I would share my life with your daughter,” he said.
“I give her to you with my blessing,” Earl said, his voice soft, emotion running through him that showed in his eyes as they were suddenly filled with tears.
Strong Heart nodded. “She will fill my days and nights with much gladness,” he said.
Strong Heart dropped his hand from Earl and turned to Elizabeth. “My la-daila, it is time now for us to return to the council house and join our hands in marriage,” he said, his eyes shining into hers.
He then leaned his lips close to her ear as he drew her into his arms. “And then, my darling, we shall celebrate in private,” he said huskily. “Does that sound acceptable to you?”
“Yes, quite,” Elizabeth whispered back, thrilled clear to the core with an intense joy.
* * *
Strong Heart knelt over Elizabeth beside the low, flickering flames of the fire in their longhouse. Her back was pressed into the soft pelts beneath her. She reached her hands to him and sought out the feel of his sleek body. His eyes swept over her with a silent, urgent message that she understood.
As if cast under some sensual spell, Elizabeth moved her hand to his pulsating hardness that he pressed toward her in an open invitation to caress it. Her fingers stroked him there. His breath came in short rasps, his eyes closed, as he began moving himself boldly within her fingers.
Feeling the heat of his manhood, and seeing the pleasure she was giving him, she raised up on an elbow and moved her lips to him, remembering the other times she had done this for him.
But this time, Strong Heart placed his fingers gently on her shoulders and urged her away from him, easing her back down onto the pelts. “My la-daila, your skill at giving me pleasure is almost more than I can bear,” he said softly. “The art of restraint that I learned as a child almost becomes lost to me when your hands and lips are on me in such a way. If I were a selfish man, I would allow such caresses until my passion was fully spent. But because I love you so much, and want you to share the total ecstasy of our moments together, I cannot go further with this lovemaking until it is shared equally by the both of us.”
“But I wanted to give you that sort of pleasure,” Elizabeth said, reaching a hand to his face, softly touching it. “Don’t you understand that giving you pleasure, pleasures me?”
“Pleasure?” Strong Heart said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Let Strong Heart show you what true pleasure is, and then see if we either one has cause for complaint.”
“All right,” Elizabeth said, giggling as he leaned over her and his hot breath raced across her creamy skin. “Whatever you say. You are my husband. Do as you please with me.”
Her soft laughter faded into moans when Strong Heart’s hands and his tongue skillfully searched over her for her pleasure points, his engorged manhood pressing against her thigh, pulsing in its building need to find a home inside her, where she also so unmercifully throbbed.
When Strong Heart’s mouth covered Elizabeth’s with a fevered kiss, she ran her fingers along his satiny hardness, then spread her legs apart and placed the tip of his manhood where she was open and ready for him. She caught her breath and a lethargic feeling of floating claimed her when he thrust deeply inside her and began slowly stroking her, then moving faster in quick, sure movements.
As he held her in a torrid embrace, his mouth demanding and hungry, yet sweet, she writhed in response as his lean, sinewy buttocks moved. She began to move against him, her breasts now rising beneath his fingers, his tongue brushing her lips lightly.
He then buried his face next to her neck, breathing in the sweet smell of her, and cradling her in his arms, his passion cresting as she clung and rocked with him. His body turned to liquid fire as her fingers made a slow, sensuous descent along his spine, then splayed against his buttocks. Her fingernails sank into his flesh, urging him more deeply inside her.
His movements became maddeningly fast, sweat lacing his brow and back as he placed his hands on her buttocks, holding her in place as they continued to give and take pleasure from each other.
And then he drew away from her.
Elizabeth questioned him with her eyes; and when he drew her up on her hands and knees, she puzzled over what he might do next, yet was not afraid. This wonderful feeling that had risen inside her, had blotted out all other sensation, other than desire for more and more. Her thirst for her beloved was never quenched.
Strong Heart positioned himself behind her, parting her thighs, then pressed his pulsating hardness deeply within her again. As he held on to her waist, he drew her back to meet his thrusts, glad that she understood and began moving against him, moaning.
His hands crept around and found her heavy breasts, and cupped them with his warm fingers. With quick thrusts of his pelvis, he could feel his passion peaking.
Elizabeth felt a tremor begin deep within her, and then it exploded in spasms of delight, matching his own release as he clung to her, his body trembling against hers.
Afterward, a great calm filled Elizabeth, but this was not long lived. Strong Heart placed his hands at her waist and lowered her onto her back on the furs, his lips roving over her again, her every secret place opening to his tongue.
Shaken anew with the intensity of her desire, Elizabeth welcomed him atop her, taking his mouth savagely with hers as he plunged deeply within her.
She began to move against him, her hands clinging to his sinewy shoulders, until once again they found that precious moment of bliss, which passed much too quickly, but was never, never forgotten.
Strong Heart rolled away from Elizabeth. Then he drew a blanket over her up to her neck. He lay down beside her, sharing the blanket. “Tomorrow we travel to Seattle,” he said, causing Elizabeth’s eyebrows to lift.
She raised up on an elbow, staring disbelievingly at him. “I would think that would be the last place you would want to be,” she said. “Let us not tempt fate, darling. We have finally found peace. I don’t trust leaving your village so soon after what happened in Seattle.”
She leaned closer to him. “And why on earth are we going?” she asked, seeing an amused glint come into his eyes.
“You will see,” he said, with a low chuckle. “You will see.”
“Does that mean that you aren’t going to tell me?” Elizabeth said, annoyed by his laughter.
“That is so,” Strong Heart said, turning so that their bodies met beneath the blankets. He combed his fingers through her hair. “Ah-hah, my la-daila, that is so.”
“Just tell me whether or not it is something that will add to our happiness, not take away from it,” Elizabeth said, pouting.
“It is something wonderful,” Strong Heart said, piquing her curiosity even more.
But her frustration did not last long, because his lips and body were sending her into another world of joyful bliss.
Tomorrow?
Who cares, she thought to herself? Right now was all that mattered. Tomorrow? Surely nothing could be as wonderful as tonight.
Wild Embrace Page 32