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BOOK: Candace McCarthy
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Amelia stared in shock at the lovely room. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see such a bedchamber in Baltimore, but such comfort out here in this wilderness home was totally unexpected to her.

Had this room been Daniel’s wife’s? Had he left her things here as a memorial?

With a vague sense of uneasiness, Amelia went to the dresser, opened a few drawers, and felt relieved when she found nothing in them.

She realized that Susie was watching, wondered if the little girl thought her strange for opening and closing dresser drawers. She smiled at Susie and told her the truth—what a wonderful room it was.

“It’s beautiful,” she said with a smile of pleasure. “Where do you sleep?”

Susie pointed toward the left wall. “In there. Would you like to see it?”

Amelia nodded and followed Susie to her room, then praised her on how neat she’d kept it. It didn’t look like a young girl’s room, but it was obviously a child’s room, with a child’s treasures on the dresser and washstand: a smooth stone, a pretty bird feather, a pair of beautifully handcrafted, beaded and quill-adorned moccasins.

“It’s a wonderful room,” she said sincerely. Amelia felt tiny butterflies in her stomach. “Where does your pa sleep?”

Susie gestured toward the right wall. “Pa sleeps in the room on the other side of yours,” she said. “Would you like to see it?”

“No,” Amelia said quickly, “it’s not necessary. I’m glad I’m not driving someone from their room.”

“You aren’t,” Susie assured her. “Are you hungry?” she asked as they returned to the great room.

Amelia wasn’t, but she didn’t say so. “Would you like me to fix you something to eat?”

The child shook her head. “Pa’s making stew.”

There was a small kitchen beyond the great room. Susie and Amelia found Daniel there, preparing a meal. Amelia watched him as he chopped meat and vegetables, then put them into a large iron pot. He had started a fire in the cookstove. He continued to add ingredients as the contents of the pot simmered.

He glanced at them as they entered the room. His gaze sharpened as he studied Amelia, then Susie, before he turned his attention back to his guest. “Is your room all right?” he asked casually, but Amelia heard the underlying concern.

“It’s wonderful. I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable there, but, Daniel, I really shouldn’t stay.”

His expression dimmed. “I thought we discussed this, and you agreed that it wasn’t safe for you to go back yet.” He paused to toss in some wild rice. “I told you I’d check back there tonight.”
Not that I’ll find anyone alive,
Daniel thought. There was little hope that anyone had been left behind alive.

“I want to go with you,” Amelia said.

Daniel scowled. “No. Absolutely not. It’s not safe. I want to slip into the mission and get out again as quickly as possible. Let me handle this. You’ll only slow me down. I promise—I’ll check everywhere.” He softened his expression and his voice. “Trust me.”

“I do.”

He was satisfied with her answer. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

Amelia sniffed appreciatively. “It smells wonderful.”

“It’s not roast turkey, but it will satisfy a man—or woman’s—hunger.”

“Can I help?”

He shook his head. “I’m nearly done. You just relax. You’ve had a trying day.”

She glanced down at herself and grimaced. “I’m afraid I don’t have a change of clothes.”

Daniel couldn’t help himself; he took his fill of her, studying her from her head to her shoes and back again. For a long moment, he stared at her mouth, saw it quiver, and met her glistening gaze. He was startled by what he saw in her expression, felt his own instant response to her desire.

“I’m sure I can find something for you to wear,” he said huskily. He would rather see her without a stitch of clothing. Her shocked little gasp told him she had read his expression or his mind.

“I’d like a drink of water,” she said in a raspy voice.

“Whatever you desire,” he said with a gleam in his blue eyes. He filled a glass for her, and noted the way she trembled as she accepted his offering.

“Thank you,” she murmured without meeting his gaze.

“The pleasure is mine,” he replied. And it was. He hadn’t counted on this strong physical attraction between them.

It would be a test of his strength to keep his hands off her.

Eight

The stew was delicious, and Amelia found that she was hungry once she started to eat. After she finished, she felt terribly guilty for enjoying her meal, as the events of the afternoon came back to disturb her.

Tears filled her eyes as she worried about her father and Miriam. As she helped Daniel wash, dry, and put the dishes away, she asked him about the Indians who’d attacked.

“Sioux,” he said. He got a look on his face that told her he was troubled.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, as if debating with himself over an issue that had bothered him only one other time. “I don’t understand why they attacked during daylight. It’s not like them to do so. The Indians are usually careful to wait until night and strike under the cover of darkness.”

Amelia thought about it and saw what he meant. “They weren’t afraid of resistance,” she said.

He looked at her, surprised yet pleased with her understanding. “Yes. It is not like the Sioux to venture this far. The Ojibwa and the Sioux have been enemies for some time.”

“Why?”

“Hunting rights. Land. As the US government acquires more of the Indians’ lands, the Indians are pushed westward.
Ojibwa find themselves in Sioux territory. The Ojibwa have been trading with the American Fur Company for years. Beaver pelts are considered the most valuable of the furs, and were at one time plentiful in this region. But as the beaver were killed for trade, they started to become scarce, so the Ojibwa went to other places for the beaver. The Sioux felt they were infringing on their land.” He smiled at her as he took a dried dish from her hand and set it in a cabinet in the kitchen area. “It’s ironic in a way, as the Indians actually believe that no one owns the land.’ It is a gift from the Great Spirit that they may use while they are here. But I suppose it’s not actually the land itself that came between them but their right to the gifts granted to them by the land spirits.”

Amelia looked interested. “Spirits of the land?”

Daniel nodded. “To the Indians, everything has a spirit. The deer they kill and eat has a spirit. The trees and sky and the grass that grows beneath their feet. When an Ojibwa hunter kills a deer, he burns an offering of tobacco in thanks to the spirit of the deer. He thanks the deer for giving up his life so that his family may eat and be clothed and have all the wonderful things they use made from the deer’s bones and hooves and body.”

“They don’t kill needlessly.”

Daniel smiled. “They treat all creatures with respect. As barbaric as some of their practices may seem, they actually have a code of honor and respect.”

“You like them,” she said.

“I like and respect them. I’d trust Black Hawk with my life.”

“Black Hawk?” The name sounded familiar to her. She remembered why. “Does he have a brother named Rain-from-Sky?” He nodded. “He’s the one who gave Father this—” She reached for the small beaded pouch that she
wore about her neck. “It’s gone! My beautiful bag is gone!” Tears filled her eyes as the events of the day returned to hurt her. “My father and my friend are missing, and I’m crying over a lost pouch.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes.

Daniel’s face softened. “You’re crying because of everything that’s happened, not over a lost bag,” he said gently.

She nodded. The tenderness in his expression nearly undid her. “I’m sorry.”

He looked surprised. “For what?”

“You didn’t need me to invade your home.”

“I invited you into my home,” he pointed out.

“You did?”

He inclined his head. “Besides, I need you here. I have a proposition for you that I hope you’ll consider.”

She stiffened her back and flushed a bright red.

His lips twitched with amusement. “It concerns Susie.”

“Susie,” she echoed, while trying to assimilate what he’d meant.

He got a look on his face that told her he was concerned. “I promise I’ll search for your father—and I’ll find him, too. While you’re here, I’d hoped you’d teach Susie what it is to be a little lady.”

“Excuse me?” Amelia wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

It was his turn to blush. “A lady. I want you to teach her manners and all the things a little girl needs to learn to make her way in society.”

Amelia controlled the urge to gaze at her surroundings. “You want her to act like a lady.” She paused. “You want her to wear dresses?”

Daniel gave it some thought. “Does she have to wear
them all the time?” He sounded uncertain, and Amelia loved him for it.

“No, of course not,” she said. “It wouldn’t be practical for a young girl to always wear gowns out here in the wilderness.” She recalled the Indians’ practice of going with very few clothes. “As long as she is dressed, her tunic and trousers will be fine.”

He looked relieved, and she had amazed herself by being sincere. There had been a time once when she would never have condoned ladies or little girls wearing breeches or trousers. Now she wished she had a pair of her own.

“Then you’ll help me—us?”

She nodded. “I can’t promise that Susie will take kindly to what I have to say, but I will certainly do my best to teach her proper deportment.” She smiled gently when he looked confused. “Proper behavior for a young lady,” she explained.

He seemed satisfied. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Something occurred to her which gave her pause. “Daniel, is this because of what I said—the other day about this being no place for a little girl?”

“Let’s just say that your comment got me thinking.”

She felt contrite. She hadn’t meant to offend or worry him. “I’m sorry. I see how much you love Susie.” She held his gaze. “She’s a lucky little girl.”

A spark flared in his blue eyes. “Amelia—”

“I speak too quickly and often regret what I say,” she said, interrupting him. “I just want you to know that about me … in case, you decide that I’m not the best one to be teaching Susie anything.”

“I think she’ll learn a lot from you,” he said with eyes that glowed. “I have no problem with someone who speaks her mind.”

“Most men find it quite tiresome after a while,” she replied.

“I’m not most men.”

A look passed between them that made Amelia’s toes curl. Daniel Trahern was far too attractive for her peace of mind.
And you’re staying in his house … in the room next to his.
It was a good thing that Susie was there as a buffer between them. Nothing could possibly happen; surely, they’d remember their place as long as they remembered Susie.

She saw it in his eyes—this physical awareness between them. Her skin tingled, and her face warmed. They were alone; Susie had gone to her room to play. Amelia closed her eyes, knowing she was in trouble. The knowledge of the child only a few yards away did little to deter the stark feeling of desire for the child’s father.

She got up from the table. “I think I’d like to wash if I may,” she said, sounding flustered.

Daniel rose to his feet as she stood. “Of course. Would you like me to heat up some bathwater?”

They stared at each other as his words registered, bringing with them mental images of water and a tub and naked bodies. Amelia swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. “No, that’s all right. Perhaps another day. I’ll just wash with the water as it is.” She turned to leave.

Daniel stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Amelia,” he said, his voice low and husky and intent, “if it’s in my power, I’ll find your father and your friend Miriam.” He paused but looked as if he wanted to say more. “I’m glad you’re here, although I’m not happy with the circumstances.”

She managed a smile. “Thank you for saving my life, Daniel Trahern.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “My life for yours,” she said softly.

He raised an eyebrow.

“You saved my life, and so I will help what is yours.” He still looked confused. “Susie,” she said.

He grinned. “Will you join me for a while?”

Amelia shook her head. “No, I think I’ll go to bed if you don’t mind.” She bit her lip. “I have nothing to wear but the garments I have on.”

“I have a few things you can wear until I can retrieve some of your own clothes.” He left the room and was back within seconds. He handed her a white shirt. “It’s mine, but should serve nicely for sleeping.”

She could feel herself blush as she took the garment. “Thank you.” The thought of Daniel’s shirt next to her bare skin made her stomach flutter.

She bit her lip. “You said you were going to return to the mission. Will it be dangerous?”

“Probably.” He lifted a lock of her unbound hair, inspected it as it slipped from his fingers to fall past her shoulders. “But I’ll be careful,” he said. His gaze met hers. It had been just a few hours. Would there be anyone there who needed help? “I’ll do what I can to help the survivors.”

“The Indians wouldn’t stay there?” she asked with concern.

“No. I’m sure they’re gone by now.” He held her gaze steadily. “But I’ll not take chances.”

“Be sure that you don’t,” she said in the softest voice.

It was late and dark when Daniel headed toward the mission with Jack Keller. They walked, they wanted no sound to announce their arrival. They couldn’t be sure that the Indians had left. They crept through wearing moccasins taken in trade from the Ojibwa. The moon was a
crescent sliver in the night sky. The forest was alive with the sound of summer insects. An owl hooted in the distance. An animal scurried through the underbrush, rustling grass and leaves.

Hearing a strange sound, Daniel paused once to listen, and Jack immediately froze behind him, his senses alert. When there was no other noise, Daniel and Jack looked at each other, nodded, and continued on.

It was dark at the mission settlement. At first glance, it seemed that the place was deserted, until Daniel saw a tiny light coming from a window in one of the buildings. He and Jack crept into the settlement, looking for bodies, and did not find anyone in the yard. Someone had taken the dead, whether to bury them or not, Daniel had no idea.

There was a strange combination of odors in the air. The lingering smell of blood and death mingled with smoke, the forest, and other outdoor scents. Daniel waved Jack into the settlement. Then with his friend by his side, Daniel moved to the lone building with the tiny light.

The building was made of sandstone, like the other structures at the mission. Daniel went to a window and carefully peered in. He saw a wounded white man lying on a bed. Another white man sat in a chair next to the bed, holding a cup while the injured man drank.

Daniel gestured to his friend to take a look. He moved, and Jack took his place, studying the scene inside the room.

“Think it’s safe to go in?” Daniel asked. He hadn’t seen anyone who posed a threat, but he wanted his friend’s opinion.

Jack nodded. “No sign of Sioux. Looks safe enough to me.”

Daniel went first, skirting the building toward the main
door. He waited for Jack to appear, before knocking. “Stay out of sight,” he said.

Jack agreed and moved to one side with his gun raised and his finger on the trigger.

When no one came to the door, Daniel knocked a second time. This time he heard a shuffling noise inside. He pounded on the door a third time and announced his presence.

“Reverend Whitely?”

The door swung open, and the minister blinked several times as he gazed up at him. He was cut across the lip where someone must have hit him. His eyes were red-rimmed as if he hadn’t slept or he’d been crying. His expression was wary as he peered out into the night. “Daniel Trahern, is that you?”

“It’s me, Reverend—and Jack Keller, too.”

A sigh of relief escaped the man’s throat as he moved aside to allow them entry. “Come in, please.”

Daniel entered, and Jack came out of the shadows to follow him inside. “Are you all right?” Jack asked.

The minister nodded, but there were tears in his eyes. “Only two of us left. The Indians either killed or kidnapped the others.” His green eyes were glazed as if he were reliving the nightmare of the attack.

“The dead,” Daniel said.

“We collected the bodies and buried them in the churchyard. There were three. Anne Rose, Pete Holmes, and Arthur Grutchly—all good people who’d done nothing wrong.” Allen Whitely’s face crumbled. “I don’t understand this! We didn’t do anything to warrant the attack.”

“The Indians were Sioux,” Jack said.

The missionary looked to Daniel for confirmation.

Daniel nodded. “Saw them for myself. They weren’t Chippewa.”

Despite the fact that Daniel didn’t like what the missionaries were doing, he thought highly of the reverend, for his intentions were better than most.

“I still don’t see why the Sioux would attack us.”

“Did they take anything?” Jack asked.

“Only our women and children—and some of our men,” the man replied, sounding upset.

“There was a woman in the yard—” Daniel began.

“Anne Rose. I took care of her first. She was a wonderful, caring individual whom we’ll all miss terribly.”

“I’m sorry,” Daniel said, meaning it.

The Reverend Whitely acknowledged Daniel’s sympathy with a nod of thanks.

“Are there others who need burying?” Jack asked.

“Not here at the mission.” The young minister looked pale. “There may be some in the forest.”

Those who had tried to escape,
Daniel thought. “We’ll scout out that area in the morning.” He didn’t have to say that there was no need to look now, for they all knew that any attempt to escape would have meant instant death to the ones who’d tried.

Daniel glanced past the minister toward the figure on the bed. It was the young man who had sought shelter in the church after Daniel had stabbed his assailant. “Is he all right?” he said, gesturing toward the young man, who lay with his eyes closed.

“He has a shoulder wound. He got it when an Indian sneaked into the church and attacked him. The good Lord must have been with him, because the boy managed to get free and lock himself in the back storage area—a room with no windows. The brave didn’t try to break in, nor did he wait until William left. Apparently, he had other victims to apprehend. Will stayed in that storage room until I found him later.” Allen moved toward the bed to
study the young man. “He was in that room for over two hours. Given the seriousness of his wound, it was amazing that he didn’t expire.”

BOOK: Candace McCarthy
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