Wild Ecstasy (27 page)

As the door was opened beside her, Mariah quickly explained why she and Echohawk were there, and the hesitation of the soldiers seemed to be because Echohawk was with her.

Mariah and Echohawk were not invited from the carriage. One of the soldiers went inside the building, and soon a stout man dressed neatly in a blue uniform, with brass buttons picking up the shine of the sun, came to Mariah and reached a hand out to her, helping her from the carriage.

“Young lady, what is this about you having come to see Colonel Snelling?” the soldier asked, casting troubled glances at Echohawk as he kept his seat in the shadows of the carriage.

“I have made a long journey to see the colonel,” Mariah said, her voice edged with irritation. “He is the commandant here. Please take me and my companion to him.”

Again the stout man gave Echohawk a questioning stare, then focused his attention on Mariah again. “My dear, your travels were in vain,” he said blandly. “Colonel Snelling is no longer here.” He cleared his throat nervously and kneaded his chin as one of his thick gray eyebrows arched.

Then he spoke further without hesitation. “You see, Colonel Snelling has been ordered to Washington,” he said, clasping his hands together behind him. “He is being charged with mishandling government funds. The gossip is that Colonel Snelling has been plagued with a peculiar ailment for many years and has become addicted to opium, the standard treatment for the disease. The treatment is expensive. Snelling used some of the government's money to purchase it.”

Having admired Colonel Snelling for as far back as she could remember, Mariah was stunned speechless by the news. Her stomach suddenly felt hollow. She had now been disillusioned by two fathers!

Without saying another word to the stout man, who was perhaps her father's replacement at Jefferson Barracks, Mariah climbed back inside the carriage and ordered the driver to return her and Echohawk to the hotel.

“Echohawk, how could he have done this to me?” Mariah said, staring blankly into space. “How?”

“He did not do it to you,” Echohawk said, taking her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “He did it to himself. His loss is greater than yours. He will never know the wonders of a love such as yours.”

“No, he shan't ever know me,” Mariah said, stifling a sob of regret. “For my search is over. My secret is best left unspoken.”

She turned tear-filled eyes to Echohawk. “Take me home, darling,” she murmured. “I . . . I feel so foolish to have even asked you to bring me on such a . . . such a fruitless mission.”

She flung herself into his arms, her bonnet slipping from her head. “Take me home to your people so that I may become your wife soon,” she softly pleaded. “
You
are my life. I will forget my foolish notion of ever calling Colonel Snelling father to his face.”

“The boat we will travel on back to our people does not depart until morning,” Echohawk said, gazing down into her eyes. “Forget your disappointments. Being together is all that matters.”

“I
have
looked forward to staying in the hotel room this one night,” Mariah said, struggling to be grateful for what she did have in life. She had never truly had Josiah Snelling to call her father, so it should not be so hard to accept that she could not call him father even now.

Yes, she stubbornly decided. She
could
accept the loss, for it was a loss that she had lived with all of her life.

Mariah cuddled close to Echohawk, and when they arrived at the hotel, dusk had fallen. When they went inside the hotel lobby, the only candles that were lit were those on the branches of a ceiling-high Christmas tree. A fire crackled in the large stone fireplace at the far end of the room, casting a romantic glow around the room.

“Come and join in the merriment,” a kind voice said to Mariah and Echohawk from among those sitting around the fireplace and tree. “It is a time dearer than any other part of the year, a time to open hearts to one and all alike. Tomorrow is Christmas!”

Mariah questioned Echohawk with her eyes, and when he nodded yes to her, she went with him and sat down on the floor beside the tree, removing their coats, placing them on the floor beside them. They were each given a stout mug filled with a sweet convivial brew of hot hard cider made of crabapples and spices.

A tall lean man stood among those enjoying this peaceful moment, and raised his potion in a spirited toast. “
Waes hael
,” he cheered in an Anglo-Saxon tongue. “Be thou hale!”

They all put their mugs to their lips and drank, Mariah slipping a hand over to Echohawk, taking hold of his hand, needing it for reassurance. She could not quit thinking about Colonel Snelling. He had been disgraced! He had always been a proud, kind man. Now his reputation was a ruin of what it had once been.

Echohawk set his mug aside and placed a finger to Mariah's chin. “You still worry about Josiah?” he said softly.

“Ay-uh,”
she whispered back. “How can I stop? I had so counted on today—seeing him again.”

“My people lost an ally when he left the land of lakes,” Echohawk said solemnly. “But always remember the good that he did. Keep that thought, and you will not be as disappointed in the man you now know is your father.”

Mariah gazed raptly up at him, always in awe of how wise he was. He seemed to be able to reason things out so that one could see what was unpleasant in a different light. And he was right about her father. She should not condemn him for his faults, because his kindnesses outweighed his faults ten to one.

“Thank you for reminding me,” she murmured.

Then her eyes were drawn quickly away from Echohawk, when across Echohawk's shoulder, behind him, in the dark shadows of the room, stood someone she would never forget. Blackie! The gambler from the riverboat!

She turned her eyes back to Echohawk and yanked on his hand, urging him up from the floor. She did not want him to see the gambler. She wanted their night in the hotel to be one of sheer pleasure. Even though she would wonder the night through what Blackie had on his mind, at least Echohawk would not be bothered with the threat.

“You are ready to leave?” Echohawk asked, leaning down to retrieve their coats.

“I am bone-weary,” Mariah said, making sure that Echohawk did not turn and make eye contact with Blackie, glad that Blackie was standing in the darker shadows of the room.

“Then you will have your rest,” Echohawk said, ushering her up the stairs to their room.

Once inside, the door closed and bolt-locked, both of them soon forgot that anyone had spoken of being weary. They quickly undressed and found incomparable pleasure in lying on the feather bed, making long, enduring love filled with promises.

Chapter 27

—Lady Manners

 

 

 

 

On the return trip to Fort Snelling, Mariah stood beside Echohawk on the main deck of the riverboat, keeping watch on the clouds building overhead. The weather had become threatening again; the sun, low in the west, was gradually effaced in a gloom of thickening clouds. A rough wind had just risen, and there was a spitting of snow from the sky.

“We should be arriving at Fort Snelling soon,” Mariah said, watching the activity of the river, fearing it. It was always tearing away at the banks, an aggressive, implacable monster, it seemed.

Yet she knew that there were some positive benefits in the raw energy of the river. As the water washed off land on one side, a sandbar would start opposite, and soon willows would begin to grow, at length building up so that it could be cleared and cultivated. The stream progressed by many loops, so that the valley was full of abandoned channels.

Captain Johns stepped up to the rail. “Since we will be arriving at Fort Snelling before midnight, our crew are celebrating the new year now,” he said, puffing on a fat cigar. “Join us in my cabin. Share a glass of wine with us.” He nervously cleared his throat. “I regret what happened on the other voyage. Let me make up for your inconvenience.” He paused, clasping his hands behind him as he gazed intensely into Echohawk's dark eyes. “I understand about prejudices. My grandmother was a full-blooded Cherokee. My mother had many of her mother's features. She was shunned by many because of that.” He eased his hand onto Echohawk's shoulder. “Chief Echohawk, it is my sincere pleasure to have met you.”

“I welcome you as my friend,” Echohawk said, placing a fist over his heart. “My heart welcomes you.”

Mariah was moved almost to tears by what she was witnessing, Echohawk so noble, so handsome as he accepted the captain's friendship. She almost melted into Echohawk as he swung away from the captain and placed an arm around her waist, ushering her to the captain's master cabin.

Shedding her coat, Mariah smiled at each crew member as they passed by her, introducing themselves to her and then to Echohawk, creating a relaxed atmosphere that turned into a time of laughter and camaraderie. Mariah accepted a tall-stemmed glass of wine and looked over at Echohawk as he refused the one offered to him.

“I do not put firewater in my body,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. He gazed down at Mariah and started to tell her that it was not wise for her to drink the firewater either, that he had seen it discolor too many red men's logic.

But he quickly reconsidered. He had promised Mariah freedom of choice. The firewater was no different from anything else. He did not want to interfere with his woman's free spirit.

Captain Johns placed an arm around Echohawk's shoulder. “It is a wise man who refuses to put alcohol into his system,” he said, nodding away one for himself when it was offered. “For a spell I depended on alcohol too much to get me through the day. But after a tragedy aboard my riverboat, for which I was responsible, I have never touched another drop of whiskey, nor any sort of alcohol. Normally my crew doesn't drink while on the job either. But this is New Year's Eve. I did not think a glass or two of wine could do them harm.”

“What sort of tragedy?” Mariah asked, setting her half-empty glass aside on a table.

“It didn't occur on this boat,” Captain Johns said, stepping away from Echohawk, taking a long stare from the small window. “It was another one, in fact the first riverboat I ever commanded.” He turned slowly and looked at Mariah and Echohawk. “It was a beautiful boat, but it burned quickly, and along with it several . . . several passengers.”

Mariah paled and placed a hand at her throat. “How horrible,” she gasped.

Captain Johns looked down at his cigar, and just as quickly mashed it out in an ashtray, a sudden involuntary shiver visibly gripping him. “It was a mixture of whiskey and cigars that did it,” he said, his voice strained. “I drank too much and fell asleep with the cigar in my hand. The fire and smoke awakened me, but I was too drunk to save anyone but myself.”

He looked admiringly at his crew. “Most of these men you see here today were part of the crew on that fateful journey. They are responsible for saving those that were saved. If not for them . . .”

He shook his head, swallowed hard, then looked again at Mariah and Echohawk with wavering eyes. “It took many years of building up my courage to invest in another riverboat,” he said thickly. “But when I finally did, most of my crew came back to me. And here we are today, one big happy family.”

“It is good that you have resumed life again as you knew it before your tragedy,” Echohawk said, placing a gentle hand on Captain Johns's shoulder. “You are a man to be admired. Not every man would have the courage that you have shown.” His eyes darkened with remembrances of his own recent tragedies. He looked at Mariah. She accounted for so much of his own regained confidence. If not for her . . .

A loud commotion surfacing from the adjoining cabin made a startled silence grip the room.

“It seems as though someone's New Year's celebration has gotten out of hand,” Captain Johns said, rushing from the cabin, his crew following him.

Echohawk and Mariah were left alone, but for only a moment. Soon Blackie slunk into the room, a drawn pistol in his right hand, a sinister smile on his lips. “I'm pretty good at sneakin' on a boat and causin' distractions, wouldn't you say?” he said, smirking. “I chided one of the suckers into accusin' one of the gamblers of cheatin'. In no time flat a fistfight broke out, and I slipped past them without no one noticin'. I hid in the shadows until after the captain and his men left you alone. Now, Injun, I'm at the advantage, wouldn't you say?”

Mariah's pulse raced. She had forgotten about Blackie when he hadn't made any attempts to bother Echohawk at the hotel. Now she understood why. His plans were for later, while in the middle of the river, away from lawmen.

Fearing for Echohawk, she gave him a quick glance. With a firearm aimed at him, he was powerless.

Then she looked toward the window. The storm had worsened, causing the waves to thrash wildly at the boat's hull. She had to grab for a chair for support when the boat lurched sideways, and at the same time she saw that the advantage was now Echohawk's, for Blackie had lost his balance, his feet sliding from beneath him as the boat quickly righted itself again.

In a blur, it seemed to Mariah, Echohawk was on Blackie, knocking his firearm from his hand and wrestling him to the floor, straddling him. Mariah scrambled to grab the pistol, then stood back and watched wide-eyed as Echohawk suddenly jerked Blackie to his feet and yanked his arm behind him, forcing him to the door.

“Open the door, No-din,” Echohawk said, looking at Mariah over his shoulder. “There is only one solution I can think of to rid ourselves of this man, without killing him.”

Mariah rushed to the door and opened it. “What are you planning to do?” she said, following Echohawk as he forced Blackie ahead of him.

The wind was wild and cold, the snow stinging her cheeks as Mariah followed the two men to the rail. Still clutching the pistol, she sucked in a shallow breath when she realized what Echohawk's intentions were for the gambler. She cringed when Blackie began shouting for help as he looked over the side of the boat into the swirling muddy water.

“You can't do this to me!” Blackie cried, struggling to get free as Echohawk began lifting him over the rail. “No! Don't! I'll freeze to death!”

Echohawk looked at Mariah. “Aim the firearm at the gambler!” he shouted, then looked with an amused smile down at Blackie. “If you prefer a bullet to the water, she can very easily pull the trigger.” He paused, laughing beneath his breath when he saw the wild pleading in the gambler's eyes. “What is it to be, white man? A bullet? Or the muddy, cold Mississippi?”

“Neither!” Blackie cried. “I beg of you. Let me go. I won't bother you again. Ever!”

Echohawk held him even lower over the rail for a while longer, then brought him back to the deck and let him go, the suddenness of his release causing Blackie to tumble to the floor, cowering. “I think the boat's captain can think of a place to put you until we reach Fort Snelling,” Echohawk said, wiping his hands on his buckskin breeches, as though to remove the stench of the gambler from his flesh. “There you will be seen to by the white pony soldiers. They will not like to hear that you threatened Chief Echohawk and his woman's life—not once, but twice. They are friends of No-din and the Chippewa. They will see to your punishment. I believe you would prefer their choice of punishment over that of the Chippewa!”

“Yes, yes, I would,” Blackie said, nodding anxiously as he scooted back from Echohawk on the deck.

A loud round of applause broke out. Mariah looked quickly around, having been so absorbed in Echohawk's performance that she had not seen Captain Johns and his crew arrive, also to observe.

“Well done!” Johns said, coming to lock an arm around Echohawk's shoulders.

He gave his crew a stern look. “Take that scoundrel Blackie below!” he ordered. “Secure him well!”

Then he turned back to Echohawk. “Now, if it had been up to me, I'd have tossed the sonofabitch overboard. I'd have loved seeing him choke on the muddy river water,” he said, laughing heartily. “But since you are an honorable man, of course you have spared him the humiliation.”

“This time, a
y-uh
,” Echohawk grumbled, taking the pistol from Mariah's hand, quickly ushering her away, toward their cabin. “But next time?
Gah-ween
, no. My patience is running thin for this man whose heart is bad toward me and my woman.”

“I must see to my duties,” Captain Johns said, since they were nearing land, the fort's walls now in sight. His brow knit into a worried frown. “I hope the blizzard doesn't impede our landing.”

Mariah looked over her shoulder at the snow tumbling from the sky in a sheet of white, then was glad to reach the warmth of her cabin. Once inside, she stepped close to the small stove, trembling.

“We are near to Fort Snelling,” Echohawk said, placing a blanket around Mariah's shoulders. “Soon we will be with our people again.”

“We are lucky to be anywhere,” Mariah said, sighing deeply. “This journey was fraught with danger and disappointment.”

“But we survived it all, didn't we?” Echohawk said, smiling down at her, his finger at her chin, tipping her face up to his. “My woman, my No-din, you worry too much.”

Echohawk was worrying, wondering if the riverboat could get to shore during the ravaging storm that was upon them. “I will be back soon,” he reassured Mariah, slipping into his coat. “I wish to see if it is too hazardous to take the white man's large canoe to shore.”

Mariah smiled weakly at him, and after he left, turned her eyes back to the window, seeing the ever-swirling snow floating past. She was not fearing the landing of the riverboat as much as the journey back to Echohawk's village. This weather was not favorable to traveling on horseback!

Echohawk hurried across the top deck to the rail, and held on as the boat slowly pushed its way up into the willows skirting the bank close to Fort Snelling, the gangplank succeeding in reaching out to the shore.

His gaze went further, into the far stretches of the forest. He knew the dangers of traveling during such a storm, but he had had enough of the white man's world! Nothing would delay his travels back to his people! Nothing!

* * *

Eight moons heavy with child, Nee-kah panted hard as she trudged through the snow from the river, carrying a jug of water. Chief Silver Wing had warned her against not only traipsing out alone in the dangerous weather but also carrying their water. He had told her to assign another, younger woman to do the chores.

And she had, for a while, but boredom had set in.

And she had felt useless watching someone else do what she had always been able to do for herself and her husband.

A thick hooded fur cloak secured around her shoulders, Nee-kah blinked snow from her heavy lashes as it began to fall more furiously from the sky. Her snowshoes were awkward as the snow deepened, and a quick panic rose inside her when she could no longer see the village through the raging snowstorm.

But she kept trudging onward, holding faithfully to the jug of water, stopping in shock only when someone stepped out of the snowy shadows directly in her path.

Nee-kah stifled a scream behind her mittened hand, knowing that the Indian standing threateningly before her, his knife drawn from his sheath, was not a Chippewa. All Chippewa were friends! Not snakes who threatened helpless pregnant women! It could only be a Sioux!

She dropped the jug of water and felt her knees weaken when several other Indians, attired in thick fur coats, stepped into view, their dark eyes narrowing as they gazed down at her.

“Nee-kah?” White Wolf said in very simple Chippewa language. “Wife of Chief Silver Wing? And friend of Echohawk and his white woman who is called No-din?”

“I could lie and say that I am someone else,” Nee-kah said, stubbornly lifting her chin. “But I am too proud to behave in such a weak, cowardly manner. I declare to you that,
ay-uh
, I am Nee-kah. And now that you know, what are your plans for me?”

She was grabbed suddenly from behind and half-dragged to a waiting horse. She did not fight back as she was placed into the saddle, for she feared for her child more than for herself. Finally her husband had found a wife to bear him children . . . and now this wife was being stolen from him—perhaps never to be seen again!