Captive Eden

by Brenda Williamson

  “A bear and falling in the river?” She rose and pulled Charlie away from Brant. “I knew something like that might happen. You were supposed to keep him safe. How could you not tell me, Brant Sullette?”

  Charlie snickered and she didn’t understand why.

  “He was not hurt, Eden.” Brant too had a smile.

  She suspected it was a joke between father and son, but she could not let go the seriousness of the incident.

  “There’s nothing funny about this. He could have drowned. I don’t want you to take him in that canoe again.” She pulled Charlie snug to her side.

  “Mama, I’m not a baby anymore,” Charlie whined.

  “You want we should turn him into a squaw?” Brant charged, folding his arms.

  “Charlie, go wait for me over by those rocks while I talk to your father.” She pointed out the direction.

  “It was my fault he fell in the river, Eden.” Brant said. “He was never in any danger of drowning. I was to him in seconds.”

  “He knows nothing of the wilderness, Brant.” She tried to ignore the way his gaze drifted over her.

  “He will learn.” He glanced at her bare feet.

  “Stop eyeing me as if you want to devour me,” she insisted, intent on making him realize how upset she was.

  “But I do.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm.

  “You’ve already had me three times in less than twenty-four hours.”

  “And I will have you another three before the sun sets.”

  A shiver of anticipation eased her anger. “Brant, be serious for a moment. He doesn’t know what dangers there are with animals, the land or people. You have to watch him every minute of every day.”

  “I promise I will keep one eye on him and the other on you.” He grinned.

  She’d forgotten about the dimples in his cheeks when he was happy.

  He cupped her face. “Do you like the dress?” He fingered the edge along her collarbone.

  “I love it.” She nuzzled her cheek to his palm.

  His fingers slid over the pattern of beads that trailed between her breasts. “This symbol is of our marriage. I had planned to give you a proper Indian wedding in the autumn. I don’t know how many times I sat at night holding this dress, wishing I had given it too you sooner. I kept it all these years, hoping you’d come back to me.”

  “I found other items of mine in the box.” She moved in closer to him. “Things I left behind.”

  “I liked to keep you close. Over the years, as I spent time waiting for you, watching the ranch for a glimpse of your return, I took stuff. After your father died, I worried you would never return.”

  “You sent me the telegram, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you.” She tipped her head back as Brant’s mouth descended toward her.

  Then Charlie’s heart-stopping scream surrounded them.

  Brant ran to Charlie as she spun around. She saw Charlie falling, a snake at his feet. Brant plunged his knife so hard into the back of the snake’s head he pinned the reptile to the ground.

  Eden rushed to them and stared in disbelief as Brant tore Charlie’s pant leg open. He cut into the flesh and sucked at the wound. He spit and blood spattered the dirt.

  “We have to get him back to the village.” Brant rose and shook her. “Do you hear me, Eden?”

  She nodded and watched him pick up her son. Charlie dangled like a limp rag in Brant’s arms. He appeared small and frail.

  “He’s going to die.” The words tumbled from her. She had seen rattlers kill men.

  Brant’s hurried and determined strides were longer than hers. She felt numb and slow. She almost lost sight of him until he stopped, slung Charlie over his shoulder and came back to take her arm and drag her along to the camp.

  “Sully, get our mother. Charlie’s been snake bit.” He let go of Eden’s arm and ducked inside his lodge.

  Eden felt shut out, alone and terrified. Then Brant emerged, snatched her wrist and pulled her into the dimly lit area. She didn’t want to watch her son die.

  Lucy entered a moment later. She knelt next to Charlie and quickly layered a paste and leaves over the wound. For a long time, Charlie lay completely still. Eden tried to convince herself he was sleeping while the horrifying fear he was dead and no one noticed danced in and out of her thoughts.

  Several times, she reached out to touch him. But drew it back, too afraid to find out the truth. Charlie was the most precious thing in her life. If he died, she’d die too. Unable to sit still, she paced the small area.

  “I should have stayed in Boston. He was safe there,” she muttered, reprimanding herself.

  “Eden.” Brant grabbed her arm.

  She flashed a panicked look at Charlie.

  “He needs you.” Brant led her to the pallet of furs.

  “There’s nothing else to do but wait.” Lucy patted her shoulder and left.

  Eden tried to wipe the tears blurring her vision. It seemed useless as the steady flow continued.

  Brant eased her down next to Charlie and laid her hand on Charlie’s arm. “Be strong for him.”

  “This is your fault,” she blurted out.

  “Eden.” He tried to hold her.

  “No, get away from us.” Lying down next to Charlie, she hugged her son’s lifeless body, praying that God not punish her child for her mistakes.

  Chapter Five

  Brant watched for two days as Charlie shook with a fever, his little body fighting the venom poisoning him. Eden barely ate what his mother brought to her. She hadn’t spoken and refused to look at him the whole time. When she finally passed out from exhaustion, he bowed his head and wept. Closing his eyes, he prayed to Charlie and Eden’s God. Eden had told him her God was a generous one and he’d not care that Indian blood flowed in Charlie’s veins.

  When Charlie cried in his sleep, Brant lifted him up and held him tight. He buried his face against the boy’s neck and prayed harder to every God and spirit who ever existed. If Charlie died, he wouldn’t need Eden’s hate to destroy him. He’d never survive losing his son and the woman who gave his life meaning.

  “Mama,” Charlie mumbled. “Mama, make him stop.”

  “Get away from him.” Eden crawled over and put her hands out for Charlie.

  Brant loosened his grip, realizing how tightly he hugged the boy.

  “Get out and leave me alone with my son.” Eden demanded. “If he dies, it’ll be your fault and no one will ever hate you the way I will.”

  “Eden.” He released Charlie to her. “Eden I—”

  Brant rose and left the lodge immediately. He paced the perimeter, vigilant with his thoughts on Charlie recovering. Eden’s screams dragged him back inside.

  Charlie lay in her arms, convulsing. His body stiffened and jerked. Brant unfastened his knife sheath, tossed the steel blade to the ground. He forced the leather between Charlie’s teeth to prevent him from biting his tongue or choking. Pressing a hand on his son’s chest and one on his forehead, he held Charlie down until the fit passed.

  “It’s over.” Brant took the leather from Charlie’s mouth and picked him up.

  “Let me have him.” Eden’s extended arms shook.

  “I’ll hold him in case it happens again. Come sit next to me to be close to him.”

  Eden scooted around the pallet of furs without protest and sat alongside him. He lifted his arm and placed it around her shoulders, letting her lean her head against him as she put her hand on Charlie’s chest.

  “It’s a good sign he has made it this long, isn’t it?” Eden suddenly asked, not a hint of anger in her voice.

  “Yes,” he replied, giving her the same hope he needed.

  Her relieved sigh let her relax against him and he pressed a kiss along her hairline.

  “Tell me about him,” he said, eager to know all there was about his son as well as distract her from her worries.

  “He’s like you were as a boy
.” A note of happiness rang in her words.

  “You gave him my name.” His heart beat harder with such pride in that fact.

  “And my uncle Charles.”

  “Does Charlie like anything special, something I could do with him?”

  “He likes books.”

  “That is nothing he got from me.” Brant laughed. “I hardly did well when you taught me to read.”

  “You did well when you put your mind to it.” Her respect restored hope in him for salvaging their relationship. “He even knows how to read a little. But mostly he likes me to read to him.”

  “What does he like you to read?” Brant looked down at Eden’s fingers stroking Charlie’s arm.

  “His favorite book is about the west and Indians.”

  “You said he didn’t know about me.”

  He felt her take a deep breath and let it out quickly.

  “I would have said anything to stop you from taking him from me,” she confessed.

  “Then you should have said he was not mine.”

  “But he is and I wanted you know that.” She turned her face against his chest and cried. “I always wanted you to know him. Ever since he was born, I told him every story there was that was fit to tell about you. I intended on bringing him here to meet you. I just didn’t know how you’d feel about having a son when you didn’t want me.”

  It was his turn to go silent as he contemplated just how much of the past he wanted to rehash. But to face a future together, they had to learn not to keep secrets.

  “Your father ordered me to stay away and I didn’t want to do anything that would make things difficult for you. When I got the courage to try, you were gone. He told me then that he sent you away to have my child.”

  “I’m sorry, Brant. I didn’t know.”

  “It no longer matters.” He kissed her temple.

  “Mama?” Charlie groaned.

  “Yes, my sweet boy, I’m here.” She put her hand to his forehead.

  Brant put his hand there at the same time and she weaved her fingers with his.

  “I’m thirsty,” Charlie said.

  Eden moved out of Brant’s circling arm. He felt a breeze drift over his skin and a coolness touch his heart with self-sacrifice. He couldn’t keep her if she didn’t want to stay. She made living in the east sound as if it was a safe place and he wanted what was best for her and their son.

  Eden poured water into a small wood bowl and held it to Charlie’s lips. Brant held him up while she fed the liquid into his mouth.

  “Papa, am I going to die?”

  “Not today, son. It is not a good day.”

  “Good, ‘cause I’m hungry,” Charlie complained.

  “I’ll get you something to eat.” Eden brushed Charlie’s hair from his forehead.

  Her wet face had less worry when she looked at Brant. The lines in her skin, softened. Her lips moved in a silent “thank you” and he imaged them saying, “I love you”.

  Brant eased Charlie down on the bedding of furs. His mother entered and he motioned for to her to tend Charlie as he stood.

  He pulled Eden up. “When he is well I want you to take him back east where he belongs.”

  “I can’t do that.” She twisted from him and went outside.

  He followed her. “Why not?”

  “First, because of the very reason you want to send him away. You care about him and I’ll not deprive Charlie or myself of whatever affection we can get from you!” Her voice rose with each word.

  Brant looked around at the sudden silence from everyone in the village within hearing distance of them. And while it was good to see Eden’s spirit return, a woman didn’t talk to her husband in such defiant tones.

  “You will leave. Now go tend to your son, I have no more to say to you,” he said, protecting his ego.

  Eden stormed away but not into his lodge. As if she needed to do more to make him look weak in front of his tribe, she went to the campfire.

  The appearance of his father, Blue Wolf, returning from trading with a neighboring tribe stopped him from chasing after Eden and demanding she obey him.

  “Word reached me that your son was bitten by a snake?” Blue Wolf said.

  “Two days ago,” Brant replied.

  Blue Wolf’s brow wrinkled as if he were concerned. “I am sorry.” He laid his hand on Brant’s shoulder in a consolatory manner.

  “And he has survived it.” Brant added. “The snake must have used most of its venom biting another creature before striking Charlie.

  He looked for relief in the man’s face, but Blue Wolf’s expression remained as it always did, serious.

  “Good. A man should never have to lose a son.” His sad tone confused Brant.

  Brant took a deep, strengthening breath. “Tomorrow, I will take Eden and Charlie back to her home. They don’t belong here. I will go now and help the other braves with your trade goods.”

  Aware that his father was never in favor of his friendship with Eden, Brant walked away hating having to admit that Blue Wolf had always been right to advise him it wasn’t a good idea to involve himself with a white girl.

  Eden and Charlie would face too many dangers staying with him. Charlie may not be so lucky if he crossed paths with another snake. But how was he going to give up his son? How was he going to let Eden go?

  * * * * *

  Eden looked up from stirring the soup pot when she felt someone behind her. She expected Brant but discovered his father, Blue Wolf.

  “Walk with me,” he ordered instead of asking.

  She nodded out of respect. There was a time she remembered being too afraid to question his authority. Times had changed. She wasn’t a young girl too frightened to stand her ground. Blue Wolf had intimidated her by telling her that she’d never be welcomed in their camp. If he thought to tell her that again then he’d be in for a surprise.

  “Brant is taking you and your son back to the ranch in the morning,” he stated.

  “You don’t want us here.” She looked down and stared at the fringe jiggling on her moccasins as she walked. “You never did like me.”

  “Years ago I thought it was dangerous for Brant to want you. He was a man, Chawi Pawnee, and you were a white child.”

  “We are the same age, Blue Wolf.”

  “In seasons, not deeds accomplished. He’d killed his first antelope at the age of eight. He built his first canoe when he was nine. By the time he met you he was twelve summers, he had done everything but choose a wife, an Indian wife who knew everything about our ways.”

  “But Brant is half white and half Indian.”

  “In the white man’s eyes that makes him only Indian.”

  He was right, of course. Settlers in the area didn’t care that Brant’s mother was white. They saw Brant as an Indian and nothing more.

  “You took a white woman for your wife, why shouldn’t Brant?” Eden argued, even though she knew it to be disrespectful to question a tribe elder.

  Blue Wolf’s gaze narrowed on her as if he’d reprimand her for her tone, but then his features softened. “Lucy came to me as a captive and she was much older than you. She said she had no people to return to.”

  Brant never spoke of his mother’s past. Hearing that she was once a captive piqued her curiosity. Eden of course knew of the problems her father and their neighbors had with the different bands of Indians when she was little. Her father’s constant rants often included them.

  “You are young,” Blue Wolf continued. “Brant does not want you just to warm his bed and cook his meals. He is willing to sacrifice his pride and his life for you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Your father told him to stay away from you. The last time he attempted to visit you, returned to his mother with a bullet in him.” Blue Wolf put his hand against his chest, indicating the same location that Brant had a scar.

  Of all the reasons for Brant not returning to her, one of the worse had come to pass. She had no words to express th
e anger and hatred she felt toward her father.

  “The bullet made him sick with a fever and by the time he recovered, two moons had passed,” Blue Wolf continued. “He said he had given his vow to be your husband and asked if you could come live here. I said yes because his mother would have been heartbroken.”

  “And I was gone.” She stated the sad fact. Because of her, Brant had suffered a terrible injury and the loss of her and his son from his life.

  “It was a good thing then that you left and it would be a good thing now if you take your son and go.”

  “Just as I told Brant, Charlie and I are not leaving him,” she said, surprised Blue Wolf would ask her to make Brant undergo more emotional pain.

  Blue Wolf eyed her up and down. “My son lets a woman weaken him with her sharp tongue, so maybe he should be my son no more.”

  “Are you saying if I don’t leave him, you’ll disown him?

  Blue Wolf went silent.

  Upset that her decision had an impact on Brant’s relationship with his father, she turned to go.

  Blue Wolf grabbed her by the wrist. “Lucy was with child before she came to my lodge.”

  “Are you saying that you’re not Brant’s father?” she asked, to clarify his statement.

  “Brant knows nothing of this.”

  “Then why are you telling me?”

  “To make you understand why the two of you should have never been together.” He let go of her arm. “After two white men killed a Skidi Pawnee brave’s wife and stole his daughter, the brave returned home to tell his people what happened. A raiding party attacked the white man’s ranch and burned all the buildings to the ground. The white men escaped death, but the Skidi brave found his daughter with a young white woman. He took the white woman captive.”

  “I still don’t understand how this has anything to do with me staying with Brant.”

  “One of the white men was Brant’s father.”

  “So Brant’s not Indian at all?” Eden was stunned.

  “No. And the man who kept his mother prisoner was Emmet Caruthers.”

  Eden took in a sharp breath. “My father’s brother? That can’t be. You’re just saying this because you don’t think I’m good enough for Brant. My uncle would never have done the things you say.”