He frowned. “No, whoever came and saw the need to do away with Neal did just that and made sure no one would ever discover his body,” he said.
His eyes filled with a sudden rage. Recalling the gentleness of this man who seemed now to have disappeared off the face of the earth, White Fire slammed a fist on a table. “I will find a way to make things right for this man,” he shouted. He looked at Flame. “Even if he is your father, Colonel Russell will have to pay for this, for I know, without a doubt, that he is responsible.”
“I’m sorry,” Flame said, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry that I am kin to a man who is so heartless, who would go to any extreme to get what he wants.”
White Fire turned to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “That includes you,” he said, his eyes searching hers. “Do you see now why you can never allow him near you? We must find somewhere to hide you until Colonel Edwards—”
He stopped in midsentence. His eyes brightened. His lips quivered into a smile. “Colonel Edwards,” he said, dropping his hands to his sides. “We will ride to Colonel Edwards’s fort and inform him of our latest find. Also, that is where you will stay until your father is stopped from any more wrongdoings.”
“But surely Colonel Edwards is aware already of the agent’s disappearance,” Flame said softly. “Wouldn’t the agent frequent that fort as well as Fort Snelling?”
“Each fort is appointed their own agent,” White Fire said. “So, no, he would have no cause to notice Neal’s strange disappearance.”
Flame drifted into his arms and clung to him. “I’m suddenly so afraid,” she said, her voice catching with the fear inside her. “If Father is capable of out-and-out murder, what if he finds us before we reach Fort Parker?”
“Just don’t think about it,” White Fire said. He held her for a moment longer, then eased her from his arms. “Take Neal’s rifle. We need as much protection as possible.”
Flame nodded. She grabbed the rifle, then ran from the cabin with White Fire. After mounting her horse, she gripped the rifle with one hand and grabbed her reins with the other. With the skill of a man, she rode off with White Fire, the rifle resting on her lap, her eyes constantly searching around her for any sudden movements.
After they were many miles downriver from Fort Snelling, White Fire sidled his horse closer to Flame’s. “Are you all right?” he asked, studying the paleness of her face. “Should we stop?”
“I do feel somewhat lightheaded and dizzy,” she murmured. “I . . . I . . . get this way if I don’t eat at regular intervals.” She laughed awkwardly. “I guess my body is telling me it’s time to eat breakfast.”
“Can you ride awhile longer, until we find some bushes heavy with berries?” White Fire asked. “Except for animals and fish, there’s not much else to eat out here in the wilderness and we don’t have time to go on a hunt.”
“Yes, I can make it,” Flame said, nodding.
She fought the continued dizziness, then was relieved when he pointed to a thick cluster of blackberry bushes that stretched out along the embankment of the river.
The sun warm, the breeze gentle, they dismounted and went and fell to their knees beside the blackberry bushes. Flame placed her rifle on the ground. They both plucked and ate one berry after another, the taste sweet and tantalizing as the juices melted down their throats.
Suddenly there was a commotion behind them.
They scrambled to their feet and turned just in time to see Flame’s father and several soldiers step out into the open, their firearms aimed toward them.
“Father!” Flame gasped, paling. “How did you . . . ?”
“We caught sight of you a short while ago,” Colonel Russell snarled out, his eyes on White Fire as he talked to Flame. “We waited for the right moment to surprise you.” He laughed throatily. “You played right into my hands by stopping. It made it much easier than to accost you while you were on your horses. This way we don’t have to make chase.”
“Father, why . . . ?” Flame stammered, then winced and screamed when two soldiers ran to White Fire and grabbed him, one on each side, holding his arms in tight grips.
Flame turned and, wide-eyed, stared as White Fire’s rifle was yanked from the gunboot at the side of his horse.
Colonel Russell brushed past Flame. He stopped and glared into White Fire’s eyes. “You’ll be sorry you ever set eyes on my daughter,” he barked, placing his fists on his hips. “I arrest you this morning, ’breed, for abducting my daughter.”
“No!” Flame cried, paling. She ran to her father and grabbed him by an arm. She yanked hard to draw his attention.
When he turned and glared at her, she pleaded with him with her eyes. “You know he didn’t abduct me!” she cried. “You can’t arrest him for something he didn’t do!”
“You’ve been gone a full night with this man,” Colonel Russell said flatly. “That, alone, is cause for this man’s arrest. I’ll have him hung for raping you, if nothing else!”
Her knees weakened with fear. She realized now that she was dealing with a man who could be classified as a lunatic. Flame took an unsteady step away from him.
“You . . . are . . . insane!” she gasped out. “Absolutely insane.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t arrest and hang this man,” Colonel Russell said, flailing a hand in the air. “You’ve been gone for a full night. Because of this man, you didn’t return home. I would never allow anyone to think that you were with him willingly.” He lifted his chin and his eyes narrowed. “The utter shame of it, Reshelle.”
“Flame!” she screamed. “My name is Flame! And, I’ll have you know, I didn’t return home because I—”
When White Fire cleared his throat noisily, drawing Flame’s eyes to him, she remembered now what he had told her earlier. Under no circumstances should she let her father know that the Chippewa chief had taken her captive. Her father would grab that chance to start his war with them before Colonel Edwards could stop him.
She was torn by what to do or say, for if she didn’t tell the truth, White Fire would take the blame.
Yet she knew the true hopelessness of it all, for even if she did tell her father the truth, he would still take White Fire and imprison him, because she had stayed the night with him. That alone seemed all that her father needed to place him in a dungeon before . . . before . . . he was hanged.
“Eh, what were you about to say?” Colonel Russell said, forking an eyebrow as he glanced slowly from Flame to White Fire, aware that something was going on between them by the way they were looking guardedly at one another.
Flame turned quick eyes to her father. “I was about to say that you cannot arrest White Fire for any reason, trumped up, or otherwise, for it is I who will stand up before everyone and call you a liar!” she cried. “I was with him willingly! I will proudly announce to the world that I made love with him, not only once, but twice last night!”
She placed her hands on her hips and defied her father with a stubborn, set stare. “You can’t stop me, Father,” she said, glaring into his eyes. “Even if you tie me to a bedpost, I shall find a way to get loose. I will never allow you to run my life again. Never!”
The colonel was enraged by her impertinence, and by what she had said in the presence of the soldiers about sleeping with the ’breed. He was more enraged at the thought of her being with any man sexually besides himself. Colonel Russell raised a hand and slapped her across the face, not once, but three times.
White Fire growled from the depths of his throat and yanked and strained his muscles in an attempt to get free from those who held him immobile. But no matter how hard he tried to defend his beloved, he was still held fast.
Stunned by her father having slapped her, tears flowed across Flame’s cheeks as she stared into his evil, cold, gray eyes. “You’ll be sorry,” she then managed to say, breathless in her anger toward him.
“You are the one who will be sorry,” Colonel Russell said, his teeth clenched, his j
aw tight. “Damn it all to hell, Reshelle, you give me no choice but to send you to St. Louis to a convent.”
He leaned down and spoke into her face. “And while you are on your way down the river under heavy guard, this ’breed will die not by hanging, but by a firing squad,” he said, a crooked smile lifting his lips.
It was as though someone had slammed a fist in her stomach. Flame’s breath was suddenly taken away by her father’s threats. She turned and gazed at White Fire. Their eyes momentarily locked and held.
When she started to run to him, to fling herself into his arms, Colonel Russell reached out, grabbed her by a wrist and stopped her.
“Take him away!” Colonel Russell shouted, nodding toward White Fire. “Take him to the fort and lock him in chains!”
“No!” Flame cried, yanking at her arm.
But her father’s grip was like steel around her wrist. She had no choice but to watch as White Fire was forced onto a horse, his wrists now tied behind him.
Flame’s insides turned cold and empty as he was taken away.
She stumbled clumsily when her father finally released her. He shoved her toward her horse.
Lieutenant Green brought the colonel his horse.
Flame glanced down at the rifle that she had left on the ground near the blackberry bushes.
Colonel Russell also looked at the rifle, then gave Flame a slow, taunting stare. “Get on the horse, damn it,” he said. “Your feisty days are over.”
Flame knew that she had no choice but to do as he told her. She swung herself into her saddle, then turned her eyes heavenward.
Silently she prayed for Colonel Edwards not to wait too long to make things right again at Fort Snelling. Now there was much more at stake here than a war between the soldiers and the Indians. An innocent man was going to be sentenced to die.
As Flame rode off with her father, she could not help but feel guilty for what had happened. Had she not been so foolhardy last evening by leaving the fort in her frenzy of anger against her father, White Fire would be free.
Dispirited, and feeling defeated, Flame knew that no matter how much she blamed herself, it was for naught, for she knew that her father would have found another way, another reason, to eventually imprison White Fire.
“Or just out and out kill him like he surely killed the Indian agent,” she thought to herself, shuddering at the thought.
More and more she found it so hard to believe that a man like this could be any kin to her whatsoever, for he seemed evil, through and through.
He seemed soulless!
She did not want to believe that somewhere inside herself there might lie dormant something evil and sinister waiting to surface. If her father could be this horrible, surely she might some day discover that she had inherited some of his traits.
“Lord have mercy,” she whispered to herself, tears flowing down her cheeks in small rivulets.
Chapter 26
Love laughed again, and said,
smiling, “Be not afraid.”
—John Bowyer Buchanan Nichols
Attired in a lovely green silk dress, Flame sat at a table in the dining room of the riverboat Virginia, a heaping breakfast placed before her. Her heart pounded. She had only moments ago been forced on the boat. And as her father had promised. she was not alone. She was being well guarded by two hefty soldier escorts.
Glancing through the windowpane, Flame saw that the boat had not yet started down the river toward St. Louis. She could still see the steep sides of the outer walls of the fort, which faced the river.
She swallowed hard and tears burned at the corners of her eyes to realize that White Fire was being held captive in the dungeon of Fort Snelling, his ankles weighted down by balls and chains.
“Ma’am, it’ll be several hours before you get the chance to eat again,” Lieutenant Green said as he sat down opposite her at the table. “If you want to keep up your strength, I’d suggest you eat.”
She tightened her jaw and glared at the soldier, but the word “strength” stayed in her mind. Yes, she did need to eat to have the strength to carry through her plans. As soon as she could get on topdeck again, she planned to do something more reckless than anything else she had chanced to do in her life. She was going to jump overboard and swim to her freedom. Then she would find a way to get White Fire out of her father’s clutches. And she must do it soon in order to save him.
She did not expect her father to wait too long before carrying out his devious plan of having White Fire shot by a firing squad, though he had to know that he would be questioned about it by the higher authorities.
Knowing her father, though, he would have answers that would clear him of any crime, just as he would surely have ways to clear himself of what White Fire had accused him of.
“Ma’am, I can’t stress enough the importance of you eating your breakfast,” Lieutenant Green said, gently shoving her empty plate closer to her. He then lifted a heavy platter of fried eggs toward her. “I’d suggest you start with these eggs, Reshelle. They’re mighty tasty.”
“Don’t call me that name. My name is Flame. Do you hear? Flame!” she said, angrily grabbing the platter and slamming it down on the table beside her plate. She grimaced when several of the greasy eggs slid off the platter and landed on the snow-white linen tablecloth.
“Sorry, ma’am,” the lieutenant said, staring at the eggs, their broken yellow centers running along the white cloth.
“Don’t sorry me,” Flame said, picking up a fork, plunking a large bite of egg from her plate. “Just leave me alone. I do see the importance in eating.” She smiled slyly at him. “And in keeping my strength.”
His eyebrows forked at her behavior and by the look of mischief in her eyes. Then he shrugged and offered her a platter heavy with stacks of pancakes. “Pancake, ma’am?” he said softly.
Flame eyed the pancakes, then the syrup, then smiled a smug, silent thank-you to the lieutenant. If anything could give her strength, the sweet syrup would be more lasting than eggs, bacon, or the butter-drenched toast.
She grabbed the platter of pancakes, shoved several onto her plate, then poured gobs of thick maple syrup onto them.
“My, but you are hungry,” lieutenant Green said, idly scratching his brow.
“Very,” Flame said, chewing big mouthfuls of the food.
When he offered her sausage and bacon, she nodded and pointed toward her plate.
He placed some of the sausage and bacon on it.
She could tell that he was dumbfounded by how eagerly and by how much she ate. She shoved bite after bite into her mouth. But even though she was making a good display of someone who was starved, food was not what was on her mind.
White Fire! She was so frightened for him.
What if her father placed him before the firing squad even this morning before she had a chance to go and get help for him?
When she felt a jerking sensation in the floorboards of the boat, and heard the boat’s shrill whistle, which she knew came just as it moved off from shore, Flame’s heart skipped a beat.
She looked anxiously at the window and saw that the boat was moving slowly into deeper water. She didn’t have much time. If she waited too long she would have too far to travel to get help for White Fire.
She started to rise from the chair, but a heavy hand on her shoulder reminded her of the other lieutenant who had stayed standing while she and Lieutenant Green ate their breakfast.
She turned slow eyes up at Lieutenant Hudson, whose grip was still heavy on her shoulder. “Unhand me this minute,” she said, in her voice a low hiss of a threat.
“You ain’t going anywhere,” Lieutenant Hudson said. “Finish your breakfast, then I’ll escort you to your cabin.”
“What you are doing is wrong,” Flame said, glaring from one soldier to the other. “The government isn’t paying you to babysit the colonel’s daughter. If you don’t let me go and allow me to do as I wish, I will turn both your names into the authorities.
I will make sure the President realizes that you are in cahoots with my father to start a war in the Minnesota Territory.”
She smiled slyly from one to the other when she saw a quick concern leap into their eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lieutenant Green said, his eyes narrowing.
“I’ll make sure the President—you know, the President of the United States—won’t believe a word you say,” Flame said, laughing haughtily. “Now I’d suggest you both be on your way and forget you had anything to do with keeping me hostage on this boat, or else. . . .”
Lieutenant Green rose from the table and went to her. He placed a solid grip on Flame’s upper right arm. “Come with me,” he said, almost bodily lifting her from the chair with the hand clasped to arm. “I don’t take much to threats, especially from a lady.” He sighed. “And I’m damn tired of being the one chosen always to be your escort. I’m in the army to serve my country, not . . . not Colonel Russell.”
“Well, then don’t,” Flame said. “Let me go. It’s as easy as that.”
She flinched when his fingers tightened on her shoulder as he forced her to walk ahead of him. Flame looked around her to see if anyone on board might be looking at her, who might listen to reason and help her.
But the only ones aboard the ship on this early morning voyage to St. Louis were more soldiers. Some sat with wives. Some sat alone. But none of them paid attention to her, for it seemed that all of them had been warned about this colonel’s daughter who was too feisty for her own good, and because of her behavior, was on her way to a convent.
Feeling helpless, Flame walked dispiritedly from the dining room. When she stepped out into the fresh air of early morning, and the wind whipped the skirt of her dress up past her ankles, she realized that both lieutenants were taking advantage of seeing the silken taper of her legs, their eyes showing their interest—their lusty thoughts.
For a moment Flame thought she might take advantage of their obvious hunger for a woman and offer herself to them, and take flight from the boat while their breeches were down.
White Fire Page 18
