Wild Embrace

by Cassie Edwards

  Chapter 37

  I love thee with the breath,

  Smiles, tears, of all my life!

  —ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING

  It was not as amazing to Elizabeth that she would be nearing the outskirts of Seattle with Strong Heart, but that many of his people had accompanied them in their large, beautiful canoes up the serene river with the trees bent above it like lovers. And still Strong Heart would not tell her why they were making the journey.

  It seemed everyone knew, but her.

  But she had quit asking and watched as Strong Heart, sitting before her in their canoe, drew his oar through the water with his muscular arms, an elk skin coat snug against his lithe body. He made the chore of manning the canoe look effortless, as did the other braves accompanying him in his great vessel, each man’s oar moving in cadence with the other.

  Elizabeth turned and looked at the other canoes following Strong Heart’s down the long avenue of river. She saw Many Stars, Strong Heart’s grandfather, Proud Beaver, and Strong Heart’s parents. His father’s leg had healed. Many braves had been left behind to guard the village, but many were here today on this puzzling venture to Seattle.

  When Many Stars saw Elizabeth looking her way, she waved, her bearskin pelt drawn snugly around her own shoulders.

  Elizabeth returned the wave, then turned her eyes ahead, forcing herself not to become impatient. Soon they would arrive, and then she would know. She hoped that Strong Heart would understand when she asked to go and see her parents. It was wonderful to have a true family again, even though she was no longer a part of their world. She had prayed since their separation that they would come together again and make up for the long years lost to them and her.

  And God had heard her prayers.

  Oh, so often he had heard her prayers, and she was thankful!

  The air, rich with the scent of cedar, had turned colder and brisker halfway from the Suquamish village. The wind whisked the leaves overhead, their rustlings similar to the sound of softly falling rain. A deer drinking thirstily at the riverbank, where the shallower water bubbled over white pebbles, was startled by the appearance of the canoes and darted to safety in the cedar’s gloom. A woodpecker lightly beat a tattoo on a hollow tree.

  Huddled beneath a warm bear pelt, the fur turned inside to give her more warmth, Elizabeth gazed up at the leaves of the trees, drinking in the beauty as if she were partaking of a vintage wine. She had never witnessed such breathtaking colors before as were displayed on these trees of late autumn.

  There were orange-hued leaves, and purple and red. The most magnificent of all were the birches with their golden leaves clinging to the snow-white bark of the trees. The water was golden with the reflection of the trees.

  A wind brought down a flotilla of leaves and they sailed off downstream in disarray, like a convoy without a commander.

  It was so beautiful, Elizabeth almost forgot why she was there. Watching the seasons parade past filled her with peace.

  She drew the fur more closely around her shoulders, lifting her nose to inhale the sweet, fresh fragrance of the air. Then she grew tense when she saw what appeared to be a snowflake fluttering slowly from the sky, sparkling like a miniature diamond against the gray gloomy clouds that were battling the sun for space, soon erasing it from the sky.

  She looked anxiously at Strong Heart, wondering if he had noticed the snowflake. She also wondered what the chances were that a snowstorm might come from those clouds overhead. Mount Rainier already had a coat of snow enwrapping its great peak. This was her first winter in the Pacific Northwest. She had cause to fear the fierceness of the winds, the dangers of the snows, and the long days and nights of isolation when she would be confined to the longhouse.

  But that latter thought made her relax from her worries. Not only would she be isolated in the longhouse, so would her husband. They knew ways to pass the long hours. It gave her a thrill even now to think about how those hours would be spent.

  Then her thoughts returned to their journey and where Strong Heart was guiding his canoe. Her heart seemed to leap into her throat and her eyes grew wide as she watched the canoe sliding through the water in the shadow of a sheer cliff, gnarled cedars clinging to its sides, close to the land that was owned by her father. The reason she had not recognized it earlier was because the house was no longer there.

  When they passed the high hill that had once been dominated by the old mansion, Strong Heart began drawing his canoe even more closely to the shore. She quickly saw the pier where her father had moored his ship, and on that pier stood her parents.

  “Mama?” Elizabeth gasped, sitting forward on the seat. “Papa?”

  She could not hold back her questions any longer. She tossed aside the bearskin on her lap, and in her long robe of rabbit fur went and squeezed herself between Strong Heart and the brave sitting next to him, and sat down. “Why are my parents there on the pier as if waiting for us?” she asked, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Strong Heart, please tell me what is happening. It isn’t fair that I am the only one who does not know!”

  “Ah-hah, it is time that you should be told,” Strong Heart said, turning a smiling face toward her. He paused from his paddling. The others rowed the canoe to shore.

  “My la-daila, soon the hallowed ground of my people will be returned to us,” he said feelingly. “Your father has given it back to us. After today, the ancestral burial grounds will not be disturbed by the presence of white men any longer.”

  He frowned at the towering, grotesque fence. “My people have come to witness the removal of the fence that glares like an enemy, standing for everything bad to the Suquamish.” He looked over his shoulder at the canoes following close behind his. “In its place will be erected a massive totem pole, which will stand guard over the land that houses many Suquamish spirits!”

  Elizabeth’s lips parted with a slight gasp, everything he said flowing like a stream of sunlight into her, warming her through and through. “My father is doing this thing for you?” she finally said.

  She turned her eyes to her father who was wrapped in a long robe of elk skin, beside her mother who was as warm in her own white rabbit fur coat.

  Elizabeth cast Strong Heart another quick glance, knowing that the robes her parents wore had to be gifts from him, for they were identical to those that Strong Heart and Elizabeth wore. It was a wonderful thing—this amity that had grown between her husband and her parents. It could have been just the opposite—unbearable—and something that would have strained her marriage to Strong Heart.

  But now everything was perfect. She prayed that it would continue to be this way. She decided to accept things as they were now and count herself blessed.

  After the canoe was moored and Strong Heart helped Elizabeth from it, she ran to her mother and embraced her, then turned to her father.

  Her eyes filmed with tears as she hugged him. “Papa, thank you for what you are doing today,” she said. She stepped away, yet held his gloved hands within hers. “Surely no one has ever been so generous. Especially now that you are poor. You could have sold the land for a profit. Instead, you are giving it to the Suquamish. Thank you. Oh, thank you.”

  “Yes, it seems that when I was searching to find a way to gather up enough money to pay your way out of the prison I forgot about what I could have got from the land, and only sold my ship,” he said, chuckling. “It is good that I had that lapse of memory, baby, for it’s doing your father’s old heart good to see the beaming faces of these people whom you have joined.” He cleared his throat nervously. “I . . . I . . . only wish that I had never gone to their village in the first place. If I hadn’t, Morris Murdoch would have seen no need to do what he did, to cause Strong Heart’s people such pain.”

  Marilyn stepped close to Earl. She placed her arm around his waist. “Darling Earl, that’s in the past,” she said softly. “Let us look now to the future. It will be as if our past never was. We are blessed, Earl, to be given this second
chance. Let’s not have any regrets, and spoil what should be a joyful day for everyone.”

  Earl dropped Elizabeth’s hands and turned to his wife, giving her a soft kiss on the lips. Elizabeth watched them, glorying in the moment, then turned and watched the Suquamish make their way up the steep path, the braves carrying thick, heavy ropes. Others were toting a large totem pole, the designs carved into it bright and threatening. She had not noticed this pole earlier, for the canoe carrying it had stayed far behind the others.

  Chief Moon Elk and Pretty Nose came to Elizabeth and her parents. After embracing one another, they all began ascending the steep path. Proud Beaver was assisted by two braves, his staff held proudly in one hand.

  After they all reached the summit, they stood back in silence as the ropes were placed around the sharp pikes of the fence, and in one yank, the fence was toppled to the ground with a loud crash.

  Many shouts and cheers rose into the air. The upturned faces were touched by the snowflakes that were falling thickly from the gray sky overhead. Elizabeth no longer feared the snow, for she saw that it had a purpose today. It was beautifying this land that had been dirtied so long ago by the first white man who had walked on the soil of the Suquamish ancestral burial grounds. It was covering the black ash remains of the house, and the destroyed fishery below.

  Yes, it did seem a new beginning for these people, and Elizabeth was glad that she was able to be a part of it. What tales she and Strong Heart could tell their children!

  Suddenly she felt nausea rising through her, threatening to spoil everything. She placed her hands over her stomach to steady it and smiled. She had been experiencing these feelings the past several days, and she understood why. She most definitely understood what missing a monthly flow meant. And she had missed hers! If everything stayed as sweet as now, she would be giving birth to Strong Heart’s child before their next autumn salmon run.

  “And what do you think of my surprise?” Strong Heart said, coming to Elizabeth with a broad smile.

  She smiled impishly up at him, wondering what he would think about hers?

  When Proud Beaver stepped into view, held on both sides by braves to steady him, Elizabeth forgot her surprise. It was so touching to see the elderly Indian watch the raising of the totem pole. He had achieved his goal, and even more, it seemed. His noble old face held great dignity, and his fading eyes were now able to watch for the last flickering of life’s sunset in peace.

  “I’m very pleased,” she finally said, gulping back a sob. “So very pleased, Strong Heart.”

  “I knew that you would be,” Strong Heart said, squaring his shoulders proudly. He circled an arm around her waist and drew her close beside him. Then he smiled a silent thank you to Earl as Earl turned his gaze his way.

  Earl returned the smile.

  Chapter 38

  Love is a circle that doth restless move

  In the same sweet eternity of love.

  —HERRICK

  It was another autumn. Oaks that had glowed like hot coals only two weeks before, now delivered up brown leaves to a chill wind. Sycamores already raised bare, white arms in surrender to winter’s advance. The geese had flown toward warmer climes, the frogs had buried themselves two feet in mud, and the animals of the forest had thicker fur.

  The sun hung coldly in a western sky that was streaked with long, uncertain bands of red, and the dry, rich scent of the fallen leaves was almost painful in its sweetness. Lakes gleamed like hand mirrors, reflecting the gold of drooping willows.

  Her three-month-old son in his little guyoo, or cradle basket, on the ground beside her, Elizabeth was on a food-gathering trip. Wrapped in a warm fur coat, she was digging roots and acorns in the oak groves. When she returned home, she would soak and hull the acorns, and grind them to meal in a shallow stone mortar, leaching the bitter tannin out of the meal. Then she would cook it into a nourishing gruel.

  Fortunately, the salmon catch had been good again this fall, and there was plenty to eat. To supplement the fish the men had caught, the women had dug clams and collected shellfish from the shallow waters.

  Elizabeth had already gone by swift canoe to the inlets of the Sound, gathering shellfish, and using a sturdy stick to dig the clams out of the sand. She learned that even the shells were used, either as spoons for soup or to make knives. When ground to a sharp point, they were almost as sharp as the steel knives she’d used in what seemed like different lifetime.

  On another journey, she had gone with other women to the prairies and mountain slopes and picked berries while their men had hunted.

  Today her mind was not on her digging, or on the long winter ahead. It was on Maysie. A runner had carried the news to her and Strong Heart that Maysie was having trouble with the birthing of her first child, and may even lose it. It had been almost a week now since Elizabeth had heard anything else, and she was tempted to beg Strong Heart to take her north to see to Maysie herself.

  For the sake of her own child, she set this thought aside. She had to think of her son’s welfare first and foremost. She had been lucky with her own birthing. Her son had even come a month early, and was no less strong because of it.

  “My woman works too hard today,” Strong Heart suddenly said from behind her. He came to her and placed a hand at her elbow, urging her to her feet. “Come. Let us return home. Let us sit and watch our son as he grows.”

  Elizabeth laughed softly, loving how Strong Heart was so proud of his son. “Ah-hah, yes, let’s go and watch our son grow,” she said, lifting the heavy basket of roots up from the ground, proud of her work today.

  She waited as Strong Heart went and picked up the guyoo. It had been brightly painted by him before the child’s birth. When he very gently drew back a corner of the blanket, to peer down into his son’s face, Elizabeth saw the pride in his eyes, and her thoughts went back to the day that their son had been born to them.

  Elizabeth had been lying there for hours, struggling with her labor. Just before the final shove that had brought their son into the world, a red-tailed hawk had somehow managed to get into their longhouse, squawking desperately and flapping its great wings.

  Strong Heart had managed to catch the hawk within the folds of a blanket and carry it outside to freedom.

  Moments later their child’s first cries filled the air, and their son was quickly given the name Red Hawk, for the bird that had come into their house as an omen.

  “He is quite beautiful, isn’t he?” Elizabeth asked, falling into step beside Strong Heart as they walked through the forest toward the village.

  “A man or a boy is not beautiful,” Strong Heart said, yet smiling at Elizabeth. “He is handsome. Is he not?”

  “Ah-hah, handsome,” Elizabeth said, humoring him. “Of course he would be, for you are his father.”

  Strong Heart did not have a chance to reply. In the distance a horseman was fast approaching them. Strong Heart quickly handed the guyoo to Elizabeth and reached for the knife at his waist. Then he relaxed his fingers and dropped his hand away from the weapon as he recognized the brave on the horse. It was Pale Squirrel, the cryer coming from Four Winds’s village again.

  Elizabeth grabbed Strong Heart’s arm. “I hope the news is good,” she murmured.

  Pale Squirrel halted before them and raised a hand in greeting, his face wide with a grin. “A child was born to Four Winds and Maysie five sleeps ago,” he proudly announced.

  Elizabeth and Strong Heart felt a great relief flow through them, and then they asked whether the child was a son or a daughter.

  “A son was born to them, his chosen name—Strong Winds—a name that is taken from the special friendship between Four Winds and Strong Heart,” Pale Squirrel said, his eyes shining as he looked at Strong Heart. “Do you approve, Strong Heart?”

  “You take word back to Four Winds that Strong Heart accepts this honor with a warm and thankful heart,” Strong Heart said feelingly.

  “Ah-hah,” Pale Squirrel said, nodding.
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  “Before you leave on the long journey north again, come to our house and celebrate the birth of our friends’ son with us,” Elizabeth said, smiling up at Pale Squirrel.

  “Your invitation is a gracious one, but Pale Squirrel cannot accept,” he said softly. “I am eager to return to my people. They are celebrating now, but it will continue for many days, for I have another announcement for Strong Heart and his woman. Four Winds’s father has given Four Winds the title of chief, himself worn and weary with an ailment that takes away his strength. Four Winds has accepted, and reigns even now as chief!”

  At first, Strong Heart was stunned by the news that Four Winds was chief. Then he felt a great happiness. If Four Winds had the duties of chief, husband, and father to attend to, he would not have the opportunity to return to an outlaw’s life. Ah-hah, this news filled Strong Heart’s heart with much gladness!

  “How wonderful for Four Winds and Maysie,” Elizabeth said, then lifted a hand to Pale Squirrel when he seemed anxious to leave. “Thank you for coming with the news. That was so kind of you,”

  Pale Squirrel accepted her hand, then accepted Strong Heart’s hand, clasping it tightly. “Come soon and sit in council with my people,” Pale Squirrel offered. “Send a runner to announce your arrival and we will feast and sing in your honor.”

  “The snows are near, but when spring arrives with its new grasses and warm winds, we will come north. The sons of Four Winds and Strong Heart will become friends, as their fathers have been for many, many moons,” Strong Heart said, squeezing Pale Squirrel’s hand.

  “Kla-how-ya, good-bye, my friends,” Pale Squirrel said, then wheeled his horse around and rode away.

  Strong Heart turned to Elizabeth. He brushed a red lock of hair back inside her hood. “My la-daila, my heart sings with happiness,” he said softly. “And so much is because of you. Mah-sie, thank you.”

  “You are my happiness,” Elizabeth whispered, leaning into the palm of his hand as he rested it against her cheek. “You and our son, Strong Heart. Mah-sie, thank you for making it all possible. Had you not been there so often, I would not be alive. I don’t feel as if I can ever find ways to truly repay you for risking your life to save mine.”