Tender savage (43 page)

"No, not at all. I've no friends here but you."

Stephen Riggs had come to the Minnesota Territory in 1837 to minister to the Sioux. His Hazelwood mission had been located above the Upfjer Agency, so he had not

known Viper. When Mark had asked him after the battle of Wood Lake to perform a wedding ceremony as soon as he could free his fiancee, he had quite naturally agreed, not realizing the young captain's romance would become such a complicated one. Like everyone else connected with the trials he had heard the gossip about Erica Hanson, but he had cautioned the women who came to him with tales to be more charitable, and he was trying to follow that example himself. That her Indian husband had been, condemned to death only the previous day had both shocked and saddened him, but the minister had found Mark Randall so insistent upon their marriage as the best alternative for the young woman's future that he had agreed to perform the ceremony without delay.

To his delighted surprise, Reverend Riggs found Erica even more charming than she had been rumored to be. She had so ele^nt an appearance and refined a manner that he could not imagine her eloping with an Indian brave. Since the Sioux did not regard marriage as a sacrament as Christians did, he considered her free to marry and pushed aside his thoughts on the possible impropriety of performing the ceremony. He gave Mark a questioning glance when no more than the two witnesses arrived to attend, but the captain replied that there would be no guests and asked that he begin.

As the kindly gray-haired missionary began the service. Erica felt a curious sense of detachment rather than the delicious excitement she thought a bride should experience. Her heart still belonged to the virile brave who had stolen it, and she felt as though she were merely acting a part in a play rather than exchanging wedding vows. She knew Mark deserved far more than the reserv«l affection she would be able to give him, but more to ease Viper's mind than her own, she took him for her husband. Her voice echoed with a hollow sound in the near empty tent, but Mark seemed satisfied that her promises were sincere and gave her an enthusiastic kiss when the Reverend Riggs pronounced them man and wife.

They accepted the congratulations offered by the two witnesses graciously, then returned to their tent to pack. Erica listened with scant interest as Mark arranged for their few belongings to be carried down to the steamboat,

for she still felt somewhat dazed. "Do you suppose the ship will stop in New Ulm?" she asked. "I would make the effort to see my aunt and uncle again, if I thought they would receive me."

"I suppose the ship might stop there to pick up cargo or passengers. Would you like me to ask the captain what his plans are?" Mark would be proud to introduce his bride to anyone. If the Ludwigs' store was not out of their way, then he would escort her there quite happily.

As they made their way to the river, Erica did not look back, for she wanted no memories of the Lower Agency. She didn't want to see the tepees on the hill, nor the neat rows of army tents. She wanted to remember only the beauty of the love she had found in Minnesota, not the tra^c way it had come to an end. She heard the sound of quick footstep)S behind them but paid no attention, thinking only that someone else was in a hurry to reach the steamboat. When she heard a shrill female voice call Mark's name, her heart fell. Thinking one of the hostile women she had done her best to avoid must have heard they were leaving and come to cause another embarrassing scene, she looked up at her new husband with a fearful glance. In that instant she saw the bright flash of a steel blade gleaming in the sun, and without a thought of her own safety, she shoved Mark aside.

Song of the Wren began to scream hysterically then. She had planned to plunge her knife clear to the hilt in Mark's chest, but deprived of that target she turned the full fury of her murderous rage on Erica. "I will kill you bothi" she shrieked as she swung her knife in a wide arc, redirecting her aim for the pale flesh of Erica's slender throat.

Erica threw up her hands to fight off the attack, and as Mark regained his balance he joined in the fray. Wren fought like a wild beast, lunging repeatedly for Erica at the same time she tried to fi^t off Mark's determined attempts to subdue her. Soon all three were in the dirt, blood splattering their clothes as they rolled in a tangled heap. Their combined screams and shouts swiftly brought a crowd, but it took the efforts of three men to finally wrench the knife from Wren's hand and pull her away.

The Indian maiden was so consumed with hatred that she continued to scream the vilest of curses. "You lying

bastard! Viper will die because of you and that whorel You promised to bring him back for trial, not to his deathi" She lapsed into her own tongue then, to call Erica every hideous name she knew. They could still hear her shrieking insults as the men who held her half carried, half dragged her away.

There was a long slash across Mark's left cheek, but it was a slight wound compared to the ones Erica had suffered. The right sleeve of her gown had been ripped from the bodice and blood was seeping from a gash in her shoulder. Wren's first wild lunge had pierced tne palm of her right hand, and Erica sat holding it tightly as she wept, but she was shaking too badly to apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding, and drops of bright red blood were dripping all down the front of her gown. She looked up at Mark, her eyes still filled with fright as her tears splashed down upon her bloody hands.

"Someone bring a doctor to the shipl" Mark called to the crowd of bystanders, and scooping up his badly injured bride in his arms, he carried her on board the steamboat where the horrified captain quickly directed them to a cabin. He had been told he v/ould have passengers, but he had not anticipated an emergency so dire as this.

Sitting primly on the edge of the bunk. Erica did not protest as Mark peeled away her tattered gown. He tore strips of clean fabric from the skirt and bound her profusely bleeding hand quickly, then pressed his handkerchief against the bloody wound in her shoulder.

"If Viper sent that bitch after us I'll kill him with my bare hands. I swear I willl" Mark vowed through clenched teeth. He had been so worried about Erica, he had not noticed the cut in his face until blood began to drip off his chin. He brushed it away with an impatient swipe without pausing in his string of threats. "She'd do whatever he asked, but if what he plcinned was murder, I'll see he's the one who ends up dead."

Everywhere she looked Erica saw blood. She felt sick to her stomach and faint with fright, but she knew Viper would never have made so many sweet promises had he wanted either her or Mark dead. "No, he wouldn't do this. He wouldn't. Wren despises me, but I don't understand

why she hates you."

"You know her?" Mark asked incredulously.

As Erica nodded die small cabin began to spin. "I feel faint, Mark. I'm—" she went limp then, slumping forward in his arms as she lost consciousness.

Mark sat down and pulled Erica across his lap. He hugged her tightly, not realizing the blood from the cut in his face was dripping into her hair. He prayed a physician would come quickly, and in a few minutes a young army doctor newly assigned to Minnesota was there. "Some crazy Sioux bitch stabbed my wife," Mark explained in an excited rush. "She's fainted."

"I can see that," the young man replied with a smile so warm he instantly inspired confidence. He lifted the handkerchief to look at Erica's shoulder, and thinking it not too bad he unwrapped the makeshift bandage on her hand. "Looks like she's lost quite a bit of blood, but neither of these wounds will prove fatal. A few stitches is all she requires." He looked up then to get a better look at Mark. "I'll just bandage your face. That cut's not deep and it won't leave too baa a scar."

"Just take care of my wife," Mark implored him.

"I will. Let's place her on the bed, and if luck is with us, I'll have those cuts sewn up before she awakens. I'll give you some laudanum to help her sleep, as she's sure to be in pain for several days. Hands are very sensitive, you know." The friendly doctor kept up a steady stream of informative conversation as he worked, more in an attempt to distract Mark from the horror he had witnessed than out of a need for company. By the time he had dressed both Erica's and Mark's wounds, the steamboat's whistle had already been blown, announcing they were ready to depart.

"Damn it all," Mark swore. "There's someone I have to see before we get under way."

As the doctor packed his instruments back into his bag, he offered some advice. "From what I heard, they have the ^rl resjxjnsible for the attack in custody. Isn't it more miportant that you remain here with your wife? She's a delicate woman, and I imagine she'll not be feeling well when she awakens. I certainly wouldn't leave my wife alone at such a trying time."

"Of course, you're right. I'll stay here with her." Mark

I was disappointed to have no other choice, but he consoled himself with the thought that even if he saw Wren, she would be unlikely to tell him the truth, and even if she did, Viper would only deny it. At any rate, the man had already been given a death sentence, so what more could he do to him? "Thank you for your help."

"You should have another physician examine your wife in St. Paul. I don't think any tendons were severed in her hand, but the wound is a bad one and could cause her problems if it doesn't receive proper care."

"Yes, I'll see she receives the finest in medical attention. Her father is a physician. I'm sure he will be of help to us, too."

"She is in good hands, then." The young doctor bid Mark a hasty good-bye, then hurried oft the ship. He had been treating so many horrible wounds caused by war, it had been a pleasure for him to have a female patient for a change, but he was sorry he had had no opportunity to talk with her.

Mark pulled the cabin's one chair over beside the bed to wait for Erica to wake. "Dear God," he whispered, "what a horrible way to begin a honeymoon." As he sat by his sleeping bride's side, he prayed it was not an evil omen of what he could expect from their marriage.

Erica awoke with a start. The steamboat was moving downstream at a brisk clip and the motion of the vessel compounded the queasy sensation she had felt prior to fainting. But that was a small complaint compared to the painful throb that radiated through her right arm from shoulder to fingertip. As she looked down at her hand she was amazed to find it now so generously swathed in clean white bandages that only the tips of her nails were visible. The sight of her left hand was equally disconcerting, however, for the plain gold wedding band Mark had brought with him from Delaware was a taunting reminder of a marriage she suddenly had grave doubts she should have begun.

"You're awake," Mark exclaimed with obvious relief. *'How do you feel?" He had been pacing the small cabin, but returned to the chair at her bedside and moved close, his expression filled with both concern and hope as he awaited her report.

Erica licked her lips nervously. Her only thought was that their wedding night must be rapidly approaching, and she had never felt less like making love. Surely Mark would not insist upon consummating their marriage after what she had been through. At least she hoped not, and she quickly offered a silent prayer that he would be far more patient with her than that. "I feel sort of seasick, I guess," she began hesitantly, "and my whole arm hurts

rather badly."

Mark nodded. "I was afraid of that. The doctor who treated you was a cheerful sort, but he said you'd have quite a bit of pain. Do you want to try and eat something, some soup perhaps? I'd hate to give you laudanum and put you right back to sleep when I've missed you so much."

He was on the edge of his seat, patting her knee lightly as he talked, but Erica was more frightened than encouraged by the warmth of his mood. "Have I been asleep long?"

"A few hours is all."

"We've passed New Ulm, then?" Erica frowned slightly, for a moment not recalling why she had wanted to stop there.

"Yes, and we didn't stop. I guess they've nothing left to ship. I know you wanted to see your relatives, but we can write to them from St. Paul and let them know you've married me and that we're returning home. That ought to pHJt them in a sufficiently forgiving frame of mind to respond."

"What is there to forgive?" Erica murmured softly, confused by his comment.

Mark was astonished by that question. "If it isn't obvious to you, I won't upset you by explaining. Now how about diat soup? You've got to eat. The doctor said you would need plenty of rest and good food."

"Yes, soup would be nice. Maybe some bread and butter, if they have some. And hot tea?" she added as an afterthought.

Mark leaned over to brush her lips lightly before leaving to see to her requests. "I hope you'll be comfortable resting in your camisole. Your dress was ruined, but I'm sure we can find you some nice things to wear in St. Paul. When we get back home I want you to order as many gowns as you like. You know price is no object. I always loved seeing you in all your pretty clothes, and I want you to replace everything you've lost."

That he would be such a generous husband made Erica feel all the more guilty at being a fraud as his wife. "I had too much," she apologized in a breathless rush. "I won't need nearly so many gowns now."

"Why not? You'll still want to do things like visit friends and entertain. Even though I'll be away, I want you to enjoy yourself. Now let me go see what I can find to eat. I'm hungry, too, now that I think about it."

The minute he was gone. Erica closed her eyes and tried to imagine how she was going to keep the promises she had made to him at noon. That she had once loved Mark only made her mental anguish all the more deep, for what she felt for him now was so different from what her feelings had once been. Had she not truly loved him last spring? Was that why her love had faded so quickly once they were apart? Would the S2ime thing hapj^en now that she would never see Viper again? Would the love that now made her heart ache with loneliness not last more than a few brief weeks? Only time would bring the answer to those painful questions, but while Erica had not expected life without Viper to be easy, she had not thought pretending to be happy with Mark would be so terribly nard.