Wild Embrace

by Cassie Edwards

  “I will, Mother,” Strong Heart said, then urged his horse away in a gallop, not looking back. He kept his eyes straight ahead as he left his village behind him, savoring the wild, deep free feeling of being alone on a journey of the heart. He loved the quiet power of it.

  He soon forgot the heartache that he had left behind and enjoyed this land that was precious to him. It was a wild yet peaceable land, sunny and quiet. Strong Heart urged his horse in a steady pace along the trail. The wind was soft today, and the mountains beyond were misted and breathtakingly beautiful. There was fullness to everything.

  * * *

  When the haloed fire of the setting sun was fleeing before an ashen dusk, Strong Heart rode through familiar terrain. With his horse breathing heavily, he topped a rise.

  Drawing rein, he took in the imposing view of the Cascade Range. No matter how often he saw the green-cloaked mountains with their thick covering of firs, hemlocks and cedars, he was in awe. And standing sentinel over all was the pure white peak of Mount Rainier.

  Dwarfed by the mountains, the city of Seattle was not nearly so beautiful. Below, he recognized Skid Road, which took its name from the skids of logs that were pushed down from the slopes above to the ships on the waterfront, waiting to transport the lumber to faraway ports. The muddy, rutted road was lined on either side by bars and brothels, making it both noisy and occasionally dangerous.

  Looming high above Seattle on another slope of land, yet just below where Strong Heart stood, was a long, ugly and ramshackle wooden building, with the name COPPER HILL PRISON written on a large sign at the front. He squinted his eyes, watching the men hammering outside the prison, the tell tale signs of a hanging platform taking shape.

  Heaving a long sigh, Strong Heart shifted his eyes to where the Sound lay. He knew that among its sheltered coves and winding channels, salmon were swimming peacefully through the kelp forests. Soon they would be making their journey upriver. He would be there waiting for them, meeting them at the canyon for the autumn harvest.

  Then something else caught his eye: a huge, four-masted ship approaching Seattle. He watched its movement through the choppy waves made by the cool northwest breeze. He always felt awe for these large vessels with their white sails catching the wind. He could not help but wonder whom this ship carried to the land that once belonged solely to the Suquamish.

  His jaw tight, he wheeled his horse around and followed the slope of land that took him away from Copper Hill Prison.

  Tonight and tomorrow he would renew his search for his grandfather.

  Then he would return to study the prison, and how often people came and went from it.

  Chapter 2

  We have made no vows, there will be none broken. Our love was free as the wind on the hill.

  —ERNEST DOWSON

  The wind was damp and chilly as it blew across the deck of the four-masted schooner, whipping Elizabeth Easton’s elegantly trimmed black cape about her ankles. Her luxuriantly long, red hair whispered in the breeze around her face. Her impudent green eyes watched the ship pass Seattle, to go to a private pier a mile or two down the Sound.

  Elizabeth clutched her gloved hands to the ship’s rail, and although it was growing dusk, she was able to study the city. From this vantage point, she could not deny that it was a lovely setting. Seattle was framed by mountains and water, the dark forest crowning the hilltop above the city. If she inhaled deeply enough, she could smell the mixed, pleasant fragrances of roses, pine, and cedar. If she could forget her resentment for having been forced to come to the Pacific Northwest with her father, she would regard the land as nothing short of paradise.

  In the dimming light of evening, her eyes locked on something that gave her a feeling of foreboding. She had been told about the prison, its reputation having traveled as far as California.

  “Copper Hill Prison,” she whispered, shivering at the thought of the kinds of criminals that were known to be incarcerated there. She feared that this city of Seattle might be even worse than the one she had left behind, San Francisco.

  As the moon rose bright and beautiful in the sky, Elizabeth turned her attention from the city, and watched the land creep by on her left. Soon she would be reaching the place that she would call ‘home.’ She didn’t look forward to it, for she had not wanted to leave her home in San Francisco. But leaving San Francisco had been a part of her father’s plan for more than two years now. He had gone on many scouting expeditions in the Pacific Northwest, searching for just the right spot to build his fishery. After much study, he had found that the area around Seattle abounded in shellfish and other fish, making it possible for him to procure fresh fish year round for his planned business.

  He had heard that much profit could be made in salmon, which were in abundance in the autumn. He planned to double his wealth on salmon alone, by exporting packed salted salmon to all corners of the world.

  Elizabeth grasped the rail harder as the ship edged close to a pier. The water was deep enough here so the ship could dock without the need of longboats to carry cargo and passengers to shore.

  In a flurry of activity, Elizabeth was whisked along with the others to the pier. She watched guardedly as her trunks were being taken from the ship and brought to land.

  She sighed heavily, still not believing that her father was not going to take the time to go up to the house with her. Instead, he was going to join the ship’s crew to help unload his own supplies to begin constructing his fishery tonight. Once he began, she knew not to expect his company, except for short visits, until it was completed.

  Except for Frannie, her devoted maid, Elizabeth would be spending her every moment alone. Long ago, Elizabeth’s mother, Marilyn, had fled the life Elizabeth’s father had given her, leaving behind much bitterness and hurt. Elizabeth didn’t think that she could forgive her mother, ever, yet deep down inside she had feared that when she and her father left San Francisco, it would cut the ties with her mother forever. If her mother decided to return, to be a part of the family again, she would not know where to find them.

  And Elizabeth knew that she should not care. She had been eight when her mother had left her. She was now eighteen and had learned, in the many absences of her father, to fend for herself.

  If she allowed herself, Elizabeth could understand why her mother had left to seek a new life elsewhere. Elizabeth had felt the same abandonment many times. Surely her mother had felt the same, when her husband had traveled the high seas.

  A slim, muscled arm slipped around Elizabeth’s waist as her father stepped to her side. She stiffened as she was encouraged to lean against him. These rare shows of affection were always brief. She was well aware that her father only paid her these attentions because he knew that it was expected of him, not because he actually wanted to be open with his feelings. He was one who shied away from revealing feelings of any sort. He had become a cold, embittered man since his wife’s departure.

  “So, daughter, do you think you can survive the transition without your father?” Earl asked, hugging Elizabeth to him. He looked down into defiant eyes, yet shrugged it off because he did not wish to take the time to question it. Though Elizabeth was petite, she was not frail and could withstand any change without his pamperings.

  “I’ll never understand why you had to move to what I feel is the end of the earth,” Elizabeth said, drawing away from him. “Father, that is the only description that comes to mind when I try to describe this wretched place. And you aren’t even going to take the time to go to the house with me. Just how long would that take, Father? But I’m wasting my breath, aren’t I? You are determined to leave me to find my own way in this new place, and in a strange house, no matter what.”

  “Elizabeth, if I’m ever to succeed in my new venture I must get right to constructing the fishery,” Earl said, clasping his hands behind him. “Try to understand, Elizabeth. Although I won’t be suppin’ with you each night, I’ll always be near. Soon we’ll get acquainted with our house and
land together.”

  “Yes, soon,” Elizabeth said, her voice bitter. She hugged herself, her gaze sweeping around her. The moon was high now, lighting everything with its silver light. Elizabeth could see that the whole face of the country seemed covered with trees, with huge, looming bluffs making up the sides of the Sound.

  Her gaze shifted upward and she shivered when she looked at the monstrosity of a house that she would soon be entering. Tremendous in size, with its towers and turrets and rough stone construction, it stood high on a cliff, protected by a grotesque, iron fence.

  Its great stone edifice overlooking the waters of the Sound looked like some unblinking, unmoving sentinel. She had been told that it had survived Indian attacks, two earthquakes, and a fire.

  Trees crowded around the dark bulk of the house, crackling in the wind.

  “I know the house seems grim,” Earl said, following her gaze, then looking back at her again, seeing her disapproval—even traces of fright in her wide, green eyes. “But it has to do for now. One day soon we’ll replace it with a new one. But first, let me make this the greatest seaport in the Pacific Northwest.”

  Elizabeth moved her eyes to her father, wondering about a man who already had so much money he could retire to live comfortably for the rest of his life, yet hungered for more. Anyone that looked at him could see that he was a man of wealth. Tall and thin, he wore his clothes well. Tonight he sported a tan suit with a gold satin, embroidered waistcoat, and a white ascot with a diamond stickpin in its velvet folds. His golden brown hair was clipped immaculately to his collar line, his golden mustache was bold and thick, hiding his upper lip.

  His eyes were the same soft green coloring as hers, yet in them were no warmth—no feeling.

  “Elizabeth,” he said, nodding toward the Sound, “there’s no other place like this on the face of the earth. The water’s alive with fish. And as I’ve told you before, salmon is the prime catch. We’ll pay the Indians to catch ’em, and we’ll sell ’em at a greater profit.”

  “Father, what if the Indians don’t agree to catch the salmon for you?” Elizabeth asked softly. “They will surely look to you as an intruder. Most are still angry over having been forced to live on reservations.”

  “Not all Indians live on reservations,” he said matter-of-factly. “There are some who weren’t tricked by treaties. It’s these free Indians that I plan to approach—that I plan to take my offer to.”

  “That doesn’t seem like good logic, Father,” Elizabeth argued. “If they couldn’t be paid off then, why would you think they could be paid off now?”

  “Things were different then,” Earl scoffed. “It’s a new day, a new time. Surely the Indians are more sensible in their thinking now and will be able to see a good way to make a profit when it is shown to them in black and white. All men want to make money, even Indians.”

  Elizabeth didn’t respond, having never won an argument with her father in her entire life. She could not help but think that he was perhaps the most bullheaded man in the world.

  “I hope you’re right,” she said sullenly. “I’ve sacrificed enough for this new idea of yours that is supposed to make you wealthier. I found it very hard to say a final farewell to my friends in San Francisco.”

  Earl embraced Elizabeth again. “Baby, you’re going to inherit all of this one day,” he said huskily. “It’ll be worth the sacrifice of leavin’ friends behind.” He patted her on the back. “You’ll see. You’ll see.”

  Elizabeth slipped her arms about him, this time relishing this moment of closeness. She knew that it would be short-lived. She had seen her father looking nervously at the activity of the crew on the ship and the pier. He wanted to join them.

  “Perhaps something good will come of this move after all, Father,” she murmured. “If you establish a business here on land, you won’t be out at sea as often. I so worried about you when you took those long sea voyages. I’m glad you are no longer planning to carry cargo as far as China. Now the ships will come to you.”

  “Baby, had I not gone to China, how could you have boasted of having some of the finest silk dresses in San Francisco?” Earl teased. He pulled away from her arms. “You know there won’t ever be as fine a fabric hauled aboard my ship again, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I know,” Elizabeth said, slipping her hands inside her cape, to smooth them along the skirt of her silk dress. “But I truly don’t care. I’d much rather have you than any foolish silk fabric brought from China.”

  She wanted to shout at him, saying that had he not gone to all corners of the world, neglecting his wife for his business, his wife might have never fled for a better life elsewhere. Her mother was surely with a man who now catered to her every whim. As Elizabeth could recall, her mother had been absolutely, ravishingly beautiful.

  But Elizabeth thought better of mentioning her mother now, seeing no need to spoil her father’s mood.

  She had already done that, time and time again.

  Earl cast another nervous glance toward his ship and his eager crew. He watched as the last of the trunks were placed on the pier.

  Then he again looked into Elizabeth’s troubled eyes. “Baby, I really must get back to the ship. The men are awaiting my orders. They are almost as anxious as I am to begin building the fishery. We are going to begin as soon as the supplies are sorted out and ready.” He placed a gentle hand on Elizabeth’s cheek. “I’ll be gone more than I’ll be seein’ you, but I’ll be up at the house lookin’ in on you from time to time.”

  He grew frustrated when he could tell that she still did not understand any of this. Why couldn’t she see that it was imperative to get his fishery built as soon as possible?

  “But, Father, even after you go and make the Indians an offer, what will happen if they don’t agree to catch the salmon for you?” Elizabeth asked, fear gripping her when she gazed up at the massive fence that had been erected around the house. Indians were the cause. Elizabeth’s father had told her that many years ago a whaling captain had been determined to have his house on this land that overlooked the Sound. For some unknown reason the Indians had not wanted the house built on that site. They had first killed several of those who had built it, and then had tried to burn it.

  The captain had not let anything, even Indians, stop him.

  Now another man, just as determined and stubborn, had taken possession of the house and land, and Elizabeth had to wonder what she truly had to fear, since she was this man’s daughter and had to live there, also.

  “Indians are driven to find means of survival just the same as the white man,” Earl said, shrugging. “Most are dirt poor and will surely be happy to hear the clink of coins in their pockets after I pay their wages. That will keep ’em in line. You’ll see.”

  Earl went to his waiting servants. He eyed them speculatively, then began handing out orders. One by one they turned and began dragging their trunks up a briar-laden path that led to the house.

  Earl singled out a hefty, towering black man and ordered him to take Elizabeth’s trunks to the house. Earl had left his own on the ship, knowing that he would be spending more time there than in the house.

  Then Earl gently took an old black woman by an elbow and took her to Elizabeth. “Frannie, you see to Elizabeth while I’m busy building my fishery,” he said to her. “See to it that she’s made comfortable enough to forget San Francisco, her friends, and her damn mother.”

  “Yas, suh,” Frannie said in a slow, calm drawl. “My baby’ll not want for a thing.”

  Earl gave Elizabeth a troubled, yet stern stare. “Elizabeth, I don’t want to receive word that you’ve left our estate grounds, unescorted,” he said flatly. “This is a wild land, filled with savages and ruthless desperadoes. Let’s not tempt any of them with your sweet, pretty face, do you hear?”

  Elizabeth gave him a long and frustrated glare.

  Frannie locked an arm through Elizabeth’s. Short and plump, with tight gray ringlets of hair framing a fleshy face, a
nd dark, sparkling eyes, she looked up at Elizabeth. “Come along, honey chil’,” she soothed. “Let your papa go and tend to his business. We’ve lots to do ourselves. But first, when we get to the house, I’ll draw you a warm, comfortable bath. We’ll get that saltwater washed clean outta yo’ pores and hair. Then we’ll see what we’s can do to make your room pretty and delicate like you’se is.”

  Understanding what Frannie was attempting to do, and appreciating the effort, Elizabeth smiled down at her. Then she looked sullenly over her shoulder at her father as he lumbered back toward his ship. He was in another world now—one that no longer included her.

  Sometimes as a child, she could hardly bear moments like this. But now, all grown up, she had learned to bear anything. Even this move to a new land and a new life. She would cope, or die trying.

  “Miss Elizabeth, we must hurry on to the house,” Frannie encouraged, tugging on Elizabeth’s arm. “You’ll get a death of a chill. Bes’ forget your papa for now. He’ll check in on you from time to time. He promised, and Massa’ Easton do keep his promises to his daughter.”

  Nodding, Elizabeth followed Frannie, half stumbling. The steep path leading up to the house was not a path at all. It was a maze of vines and briars, and it took all of Elizabeth’s concentration to make her way through them. As the briars annoyingly grabbed her cape and pierced it, she jerked it free.

  Ignoring Frannie’s heaving breaths brought on by the climb, Elizabeth stubbornly moved onward, not wanting to look behind her again. Without looking, she knew that the shoreline was way below her now, the slap of the waves sounded like a great heartbeat, alive and threatening. She shivered as the hissing whine of the night wind swept about her, chilling her to the bone.

  The fence now loomed high before her, morbid in its scrolled details and with its spikes lining the top. Behind it stood the mansion outlined against the moonlit sky, as if it were some dark, sinister monster ready to swallow her whole.