“In time for what?” he said.
“White Fire!” she cried. “My father has him locked up in a cell! I’m afraid he’s going to kill him.”
Colonel Edwards’s eyes widened. “What?” he gasped out. “Why would he imprison White Fire?”
“It’s too long a story to explain it to you now,” Flame said. Her breath caught in her throat as she asked, “Why are you here this time of night? Surely it’s not because of what White Fire told you about my father. You wouldn’t have come at this late hour to check out things. Why are you here?”
She looked past him and at all of the soldiers with him.
Then she gazed into his eyes. “Why have you brought so many men?” she asked guardedly. “Have you received word that there is trouble here? It’s obvious you don’t know about White Fire’s incarceration or you wouldn’t have acted so surprised when I told you. So why are you here?”
“It’s the damndest thing,” Colonel Edwards said, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to Flame. “I was asleep. I was awakened with a start. Damn if I didn’t feel some sort of presence in my bed chamber. My wife awakened. Even she felt it.”
“Presence?” Flame said, eyeing him curiously. “What sort of presence?”
“I find it hard to tell,” Colonel Edwards said, laughing awkwardly. “Some would say I was ready for the loony bin.”
“Tell me,” Flame said softly. “Please tell me.”
“Well, you see, Reshelle, Colonel Josiah Snelling and I were the best of friends,” he said. “When he left for Missouri, I felt as though my right arm had been severed from my body, for Josiah was my right arm. His beliefs were the same as mine. We both joined peace councils with the local Indians. We spent many a night drinking and smoking and talking of our childhood adventures. When he left, there was such a strange void left in my life I don’t know how to explain it.”
Feeling a slow desperation rising inside her, that too much time was passing, Flame edged her horse closer to the colonel’s. “What does Colonel Snelling have to do with you being here tonight?” she asked, trying to hide her impatience.
“I feel that I was visited by Josiah tonight in my bed chamber,” Colonel Edwards said, his voice guarded as he watched for her reaction. “I was awakened from a sound sleep by . . . by a presence in my room. I . . . looked around, then saw it—saw him. Of course, it was only a shimmering faint light that showed his likeness. But it was no less Josiah Snelling!”
Flame paled. She recalled White Fire telling her about his moments alone with Colonel Snelling’s ghost, and why the colonel had appeared to him in such a way. To reveal to him what her father was planning.
Tonight Colonel Snelling must have appeared to his friend to warn him of something that was about to happen. He had surely tried to warn him about the danger White Fire was in.
“Why are you here?” she asked again.
“The whole time he was there, Josiah pointed toward Fort Snelling,” Colonel Edwards said, his voice drawn. “I was quickly reminded of what White Fire had told me about your father. But I thought it had to be more than that that would bring Josiah to my room in such a way. And, by God, now I know. He was warning me about White Fire being imprisoned!”
“Can you get him free?” Flame asked, grabbing him quickly by the arm. “Can you?”
“Most certainly,” Colonel Edwards said, easing her hand from his arm, then holding it. “I will look forward to hearing later what has happened to you tonight—why you are out here, instead of inside the fort.”
“Yes, I will tell you, but for now, let us concentrate on freeing White Fire,” Flame said, easing her hand from his. She looked over her shoulder and could feel Gray Feather’s eyes on her, waiting for her to motion for him to come to her.
But she still felt that it was best that he and his warriors stay out of the fracas. All that was required to set White Fire free was right there with Colonel Edwards.
“Come on and let’s set things right,” Colonel Edwards said, nodding toward Flame, drawing her eyes back to him. “And once White Fire is set free, I’ll take care of that other matter that I have delayed doing for too long, it seems.”
“You mean sending my father away from Fort Snelling?” Flame asked, riding alongside him toward the gate of the fort.
“No, I mean to arrest him, to see that he is court-martialed,” Colonel Edwards said, his jaw tight. “And not only because of him having wrongly incarcerated White Fire, but because of how he has schemed to cause a massacre in this area. He will take White Fire’s place in the cell, but not here. At Fort Parker.”
His eyes wavered as he gazed at Flame. “I’m sorry that things have turned out this way for your father,” he said thickly. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling about all of this.”
“No one could ever know,” Flame said, her eyes burning with the need to cry.
But she fought back the tears. She had to look strong. She had to feel strong to save the man she loved and to be able to watch her father arrested.
Although she knew that her father deserved no less, she could not help but feel a deep, gnawing sadness over what he had become—a ruthless, worthless man.
Flame rode straight-backed and square-shouldered beside Colonel Edwards as they headed toward the gate.
The soldiers under Flame’s father’s command soon saw that they were outnumbered by Colonel Edwards’s men and didn’t hesitate at opening the wide gate.
Flame rode on inside, then stiffened when her father came from the mansion only half dressed, his hair mussed, his eyes heavy with sleep.
“Colonel Edwards, what’s going on here?” he asked, paling when he looked over at Flame. “Reshelle, thank God you are all right. But good God, look at you. And why are you with Colonel Edwards?”
“Arrest that man,” Colonel Edwards said, nodding to two of his soldiers as they slid quickly from their saddles. He looked at several of his other soldiers. “You! Go and find where White Fire is being held. Release him.”
“You can’t do this,” Colonel Russell cried, trying to yank free of the soldiers as they grabbed each of his arms and held him firmly between them. “You have no authority here, Colonel Edwards. You have no right to do this to me. Nor do you have the right to release White Fire.”
“I am taking charge here until Washington sends a replacement,” Colonel Edwards said, dismounting. He went and stood before Colonel Russell. He placed his fists on his hips. “How did you think you’d get away with all of this, Colonel?”
“I almost did, didn’t I?” Colonel Russell said, laughing fiendishly. He glared at Flame as she dismounted and went to stand before him. “My own daughter betrays me. Reshelle, why? Why?”
“How can you ask me such a question as that?” Flame said, fighting back the urge to cry. “Father, you have turned into someone I no longer know.”
She then turned from him.
When she saw White Fire being held between two soldiers as he walked toward her, a blanket wrapped around him, she gasped at how weak he looked, and at how gaunt he had become even during his short time of imprisonment.
“White Fire!” she cried, then broke into a mad run toward him. When she reached him, she eased into his arms.
Sobbing, she hugged him. “It’s all over now,” she murmured. “You are safe, darling. You are safe.”
She heard the arrival of many horses behind her. She did not have to look to know that Chief Gray Feather had decided to come into the courtyard to see if his assistance was needed.
As White Fire hugged Flame, he looked over her shoulder and gave Colonel Edwards a smile of thanks.
He smiled at Chief Gray Feather as the old chief nodded toward him. Then his gaze shifted and he glared at Colonel Russell.
Suddenly his eyes were drawn somewhere else.
He saw curtains being drawn aside in an upstairs window of the Snelling mansion, in the study where he had been visited by Colonel Snelling’s ghost. He blinked nervously to see if he w
as truly seeing the apparition again, or if, in his weakness, he was imagining things.
The likeness of Colonel Snelling smiled down at him and tipped his hat, and then slowly faded into the night shadows. White Fire knew that it most certainly hadn’t been his imagination. His friend had been there again.
“White Fire, you won’t believe what happened tonight at Colonel Edwards’s house,” Flame said, easing from his arms. “Darling, Colonel Snelling appeared to Colonel Edwards. He pointed a hand toward Fort Snelling. He is why Colonel Edwards knew to come tonight. He saw the ghost. He understood the meaning of his sudden appearance!”
“Yes, I would believe it,” White Fire said, still watching the window. “I owe Josiah. I most certainly owe him.”
Chapter 36
Graceful and useful all she does,
Blessing and blest where’er she goes,
Pure bosom’d as that watery glass,
And Heaven reflected in her face.
—William Cowper
Flame stood beside White Fire as her father was taken away to be incarcerated at Fort Parker. Colonel Edwards had assigned one of his most trusted men to stay behind at Fort Snelling, to see to things until a replacement for Colonel Russell arrived.
Chief Gray Feather and his warriors had left as soon as the chief had seen that White Fire was all right, having taken only enough time to give him a hearty hug and to invite him to his lodge soon for council.
“This has been a night of nights. I shall never forget it,” Flame said, placing an arm around White Fire’s waist as she slowly led him up the stairs toward the front door of the Snelling mansion. “I was so afraid that I wouldn’t get to you in time.”
“When I was told about your escape from the riverboat, a part of my heart died at the thought of possibly having lost you,” he said, grunting from the energy it took him to take the last step that led him to the porch. His knees trembled from weakness. His tongue and lips were so parched he could hardly speak.
“Come on inside,” Flame said softly. “I shall have Lorraine, my maid, prepare you a bath. While you are bathing, I shall go to the kitchen and find us something to eat. I’ve hardly eaten, myself, since you were taken away by my father.”
Then she remembered how she had poked breakfast down herself while on the boat, and she gave White Fire a mischievous stare.
“What is that look for?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Well, there was this one time that I ate like a pig,” she said, giggling. She proceeded to tell him how much she had eaten, and why.
“But that was then,” she said, sighing. “And now I feel as though I haven’t eaten in days.”
Clutching the blanket about his nude body, White Fire smiled down at Flame as she held the front door open for him. “The whole nightmare is over. All of it,” he said. “Now we can truly begin the rest of our lives without interferences from men like your father.”
“Yes, he can no longer cause either of us any trouble,” she murmured, fighting the sadness that crept into her heart whenever she thought of him.
She wanted to hate her father. But the part of her that had loved him when she was a small child would not allow her to totally loathe him.
“I am so tired,” White Fire said. He stumbled as he moved into the dim light of the foyer, the candles almost having burned out in their sconces along the walls. He licked his lips. “God, I am so thirsty. I’m so hungry.”
A middle-aged lady came down the stairs in a wool robe, her hair bundled up beneath a sleeping cap. Flame looked up at her. “Lorraine, hurry and prepare a bath in my room for White Fire,” she said. “Please hurry.”
Lorraine reached the floor. She stopped to place a gentle hand on Flame’s cheek. “I prayed that you would be all right,” she said, a sob lodging in her throat. “My prayers were answered.”
She gazed past Flame and through the open door, then looked again at Flame. “I watched through the window as your father was taken away,” she said, her voice drawn. “Why, Flame? Why was he taken away by soldiers from another fort? It looked as though he was arrested.”
“He was,” Flame said flatly. “Lorraine, please go and wake the others of the household. Ask them to help you. Have my copper tub brought to my room. Heat the bathwater and prepare the bath. I shall tell you everything later.”
Lorraine dropped her hand to her side, nodded, then shuffled away in her heavy slippers across the oak hardwood flooring.
“Come with me,” Flame said, steadying White Fire with her arm around his waist. “I know it might be hard to take the steps. But once you are upstairs and in my room, everything else will come easy enough for you.”
He placed a trembling hand on the staircase railing. He pulled himself up one step at a time. Finally they reached Flame’s bedroom.
She helped him down onto the bed and sat beside him as the tub was brought into the room. Soon steaming water filled it to the brim.
Once alone, Flame helped White Fire up from the bed. She was near tears, finding it so hard to accept how her father’s treatment had so weakened White Fire. Flame slid the blanket from around his shoulders.
When she got a look at his wrists and ankles, and saw the bloody, dried wounds left there by the chains, she paled. “Lord,” she gasped, running a slow hand along one of his wrists, “I find it so hard that my father is capable of such . . . such . . . cruelty.” She placed a hand to his cheek and gazed into his eyes, her own wavering. “Does it hurt so badly?” she whispered.
“Nothing hurts now that I am with you,” he said, sliding his arms around her waist, drawing her into his embrace.
She lifted her lips to his. Their kiss was lingering, soft, and sweet.
Then she felt his body give somewhat and his knees almost buckle beneath him. She stepped away from him and held him by an elbow as she led him to the water.
White Fire stepped into the tub and sank into the warm water.
Flame kneeled down beside the tub and picked up a piece of soap and began lathering him across his shoulders, and chest. He slid farther down into the water and rested the back of his head against the tub.
As he closed his eyes, she studied him more closely. Her heart ached to see his gauntness and his parched lips. She dropped the soap into the water and rushed to her nightstand, where she grabbed a pitcher and poured water into a glass.
She took this to White Fire. He took the glass and swallowed the cool, refreshing liquid in fast gulps.
Then remembering him speaking of being hungry, and dying of hunger, herself, Flame sat the glass down on the floor. She bent low and brushed a kiss across White Fire’s lips.
“I won’t be gone long,” she said. “When I return, I shall have brought us a feast from the kitchen.”
As she rushed down the stairs, something came to her like someone had hit her in the abdomen with a fist. “Dancing Star,” she whispered, her eyes wide as she stopped on a step. “Oh, Lord, I have absolutely forgotten about Dancing Star.”
She turned and looked up the stairs. She realized that no one had yet told White Fire the news about Song Sparrow, nor did he know that he had another child to father.
She realized that they couldn’t spend much time at the mansion. Once White Fire was dressed and fed, they had to return to his cabin.
“I won’t tell him about the child until we get there,” she whispered, rushing on again to the kitchen.
After getting a large platter of cheese, cold roasted chicken, and slabs of beef, and also grapes, bananas, and apples, Flame hurried back up the stairs.
When she arrived at her room, she found White Fire finished with his bath and dressed. She stopped with a start when she saw the clothes he wore.
“I went to your father’s room and borrowed a pair of his breeches and a shirt,” White Fire said. He raised up a pant leg high enough for her to see the black-leather dress boots. He chuckled. “A tight fit, nevertheless a pair of shoes until I go home to get into my moccasins.”
&n
bsp; His mention of “home,” and again thinking of who was there awaiting their arrival, made Flame’s inside tighten. They had to get to his cabin soon, for Dancing Star had been there alone for way too long as it was.
But she still thought it was best to tell White Fire about her later. He had been through enough for now.
Yet it did not seem right to wait and tell him just after he discovered Dancing Star at his house. He would have to be told in front of Dancing Star about Song Sparrow’s death. That could be too traumatic for the child to hear it all over again, and to see White Fire’s reaction to the knowledge.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, seeing how quiet Flame had become, and how she seemed to be worried about something. He went to her and took the tray of food and set it on a table beside the bed.
Then he took her hands and gazed into her eyes. “Tonight has been almost too much for you, hasn’t it?” he asked softly. “Seeing your father taken away like that . . . Seeing me in such a mess. And you. How did you live through the ordeal in the river?”
“Yes, tonight, today has been quite something,” Flame said, laughing softly. “But it’s easily forgotten now, for the whole reason for everything that I did was to set you free. You are free. We are together now and nothing ever again will come between us.”
He drew her into his arms and kissed her. Then he eased away from her and pulled two chairs up to the table where the food awaited them.
They ate and ate.
Lorraine brought in a bottle of wine, that Flame had asked for before she returned to the bedroom. That was consumed until both Flame and White Fire were comfortably full and relaxed.
“Your feather mattress is going to feel good tonight,” White Fire said, reaching over to run a hand over her mattress. His eyes twinkled into hers. “I think I have enough renewed strength now to take more from this bed than only a night of sleeping.”
Flame smiled softly at him, her pulse racing at the thought of how wonderful it would be to sleep with him there tonight, making love over and over again.
Yet there was someone else to consider now—Dancing Star.
White Fire Page 23
