Wild Embrace

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Wild Embrace Page 19

by Cassie Edwards


  When he was far enough away from the campsite. Four Winds bent low over his horse and sent it into a hard gallop across the land, hoping that he could get to Strong Heart’s village in time. Strong Heart would have to make his own decision about what should happen to the woman.

  Chapter 21

  A burden still of chilling fear

  I find in every place.

  —JOHN CLARE

  Elizabeth’s cell was dark, with only thin beams of moonlight sifting through the bars above her bunk, where she lay in a fetal position. She clutched her arms around herself, shivering not so much from the chill of the night—but from the horror of everything that went on in the jail after the cloak of night had fallen. The moon had given off enough light for her to see bodies scrambling together, fulfilling their lusts once again, tonight.

  And now everyone but her seemed to be asleep. Snores, groans, and women sobbing in their sleep reached Elizabeth’s ears. Maysie had been right to have pitied the women in this godforsaken place. In the larger cells women and men alike were housed. Elizabeth had seen too many of the women bent to the wills of the men.

  No matter what their crime might have been, only stealing a piece of bread to keep from starving to death, most of the women in this prison were treated like animals. Elizabeth wished that she could do something to help them, yet she could not even help herself!

  Tears splashed from her eyes as she thought of Strong Heart. She could not expect Strong Heart to help her, for he did not even know that she was in the prison.

  But her father! Why hadn’t he gotten her out of this hellhole? He had money, plenty of money. Surely he could have found a way to pay for her release!

  The sound of the sheriff’s office door opening startled Elizabeth. With trembling fingers she reached beneath the mattress and found the fork that she had hidden there after her evening meal. She didn’t trust the sheriff, or his deputy. She had never forgotten how the sheriff had tried to rape her on her first visit to the prison on the day of Four Winds’s escape.

  To protect herself, she had managed to steal a fork from her dinner tray. She wasn’t sure how much damage a mere fork could do, but at least it would give her a slim chance of protecting herself.

  Her eyes wide, she watched a form moving in the dark toward her cell. She slid the fork beneath a fold of her dress, clutching desperately to the handle.

  Her heart pounded as she saw the man take a ring of keys from his back pocket and sort through them, until he found the one that fit the lock of Elizabeth’s cell.

  The door creaked slowly open and she was finally able to see who it was now standing over her, slipping the ring of keys back into his pocket, his free hand at the fly of his breeches, eagerly undoing its buttons.

  “Deputy Bradley,” Elizabeth gasped, inching her way from the edge of the bunk, then hugging the wall with her back when she could go no further.

  She still held the fork in her hand. Her throat was dry and fear gripped her hard in the pit of her stomach.

  “Don’t say a word, slut,” Deputy Bradley said through yellow teeth, his coppery mustache twitching as he spoke. “Just keep still or I’ll do worse than rape you. I’ll save the judge a day in court. If you’re dead, he won’t have to bother with rulin’ you innocent or guilty.”

  His words made Elizabeth feel as though ice water had been poured into her veins. She was shocked that this man could be this devious—this heartless. Until now, of the two men who controlled the jail, Elizabeth had thought that she could trust Deputy Bradley more. He appeared young and not yet as hardened as Sheriff Nolan.

  When Deputy Bradley dropped his pants Elizabeth thought this might be her best opportunity to make her attack. But as she took the fork out from beneath her dress, the moonlight flashed on it, revealing it to Deputy Bradley. He jerked it from her hand before she could even plunge it into his face.

  Deputy Bradley tossed the fork aside and quickly straddled Elizabeth. “Bitch,” he said, holding her wrists to the bunk, one of his knees shoving her dress upward. “You think you can stop me? It’s been too long since I’ve had me a woman like you to let anything stop me from gettin’ what I’m after.”

  His lips crushed Elizabeth’s with a wet, slobbering kiss as he started lowering his manhood toward her. Panic rushed in her like wild fires spreading through dry brush. Elizabeth raised one knee and hit him hard in the groin with it. He leaped away from her with a yowl and clutched himself where she had caused the damage.

  Elizabeth jumped from the bunk and grabbed the fork from the floor and held it threateningly before her, her eyes flashing. “Get out of here and leave me be,” she said breathlessly. She was stunned to see that he seemed unable to move as he still held himself, moaning and groaning.

  Suddenly she was aware of something else. The commotion had awakened all of the prisoners. They were shouting and jeering and mimicking the deputy. The place was in an uproar.

  Deputy Bradley glared at Elizabeth as he slowly leaned over to pick up his pants. Not bothering to put them on, he inched around her and left the cell. He stopped long enough to fish his keys out of his pocket, then locked the cell behind him.

  Elizabeth breathed hard as she watched him limp away, tossing curses over his shoulder as the prisoners continued to jeer and mock him.

  Then Elizabeth sank back down onto the bunk, fearing the rest of the days and nights of her incarceration, for surely the deputy would find a way to make her pay.

  * * *

  A movement in his longhouse awakened Strong Heart. He groped around until he found the knife that he always kept close beside his bed, and then bolted from his sleeping platform, the knife poised for its death plunge.

  When Four Winds came out of the shadows and stood over the dying embers of the firepit, Strong Heart sighed and lowered the knife to his side.

  “It is unwise, me-sah-chie, bad, to enter a dwelling unannounced, whether it is night or day,” Strong Heart said, bending to place the knife back on the floor.

  He then gestured with a hand toward Four Winds. “Mit-lite, sit down, my friend,” he said softly. “Tell me why you have come in the middle of the night to awaken Strong Heart. What news do you bring me?”

  Strong Heart watched Four Winds carefully as he sat down, his dark brown hair held into place by a colorfully beaded headband. Strong Heart remembered his father suspecting Four Winds of being among their village’s attackers. Strong Heart still could not believe his friend capable of such a fiendish act.

  “There is not much time for talk,” Four Winds said, his expression troubled.

  “There is not time for you to tell me if you have rejoined your people?” Strong Heart asked, raising an eyebrow. “There is not enough time for me to ask of your people’s welfare?”

  “No,” Four Winds said, placing his hands on his knees, leaning on them as he locked his eyes with Strong Heart’s. “There is no time for idle talk of family. I have come with news of something other than my people, or yours.”

  Strong Heart’s spine stiffened and his jaw tightened. “What news then is it that you bring me, that you find it important enough to awake me from my sleep?” he asked. “Tell me now, Four Winds. What is it?”

  “It is because of the woman with the hair of flame that I come to you tonight,” Four Winds said, seeing alarm enter his friend’s eyes. “Strong Heart, she has been arrested. She is in Copper Hill Prison. She is accused of being a partner with the one who set me free which, of course, is you, my friend.”

  Strong Heart’s mouth gaped and his heart seemed to stop beating, the shock was so quick and overwhelming.

  Then he bolted to his feet and began scrambling around the longhouse, slipping into his buckskins and moccasins. With a growl, he grabbed his rifle and held it up in the air. “They shall die for doing this to my la-daila,” he cried, forgetting all of his doubts about Elizabeth. At this moment, there was no doubt exactly what she meant to him, and always would. He must save her.

  He tur
ned to Four Winds as he rose to his feet. “You will ride with me?” he said, his eyes dark with emotion. “My friend, you will help me set her free?”

  “This I would do gladly, except . . .” Four Winds said, lowering his eyes, for now was a time of truth between friends—a truth that might turn them into enemies.

  “Except what?” Strong Heart dared to ask, seeing now that something was very wrong in Four Winds’s demeanor. Instead of being proud for having brought such news to a friend, Four Winds was acting as one who had something to be ashamed about.

  Strong Heart’s pulse raced as he waited for Four Winds’s explanation. They did not have much time to waste, when his beloved was at the mercy of too many whose hearts were black. He must hy-ak, hurry, and get to her before she was harmed by the cultus, worthless man, the sheriff.

  Yet, because of friendship, he must wait for Four Winds to say his piece.

  Four Winds looked slowly up at Strong Heart. “You did not ask me how I knew about the white woman being in the prison,” he said, his voice quiet.

  “I saw no need,” Strong Heart said, his puzzlement deepening. “If Elizabeth is jailed, surely those in the city know, and such news spreads quickly.”

  Then Strong Heart was shaken by a thought. “But you, my friend, should not be near the city, or with those who would hear such news,” he said slowly. “You should be with your people, or still be hiding in the hills.”

  Strong Heart walked around the fire and came eye to eye with Four Winds. “Tell me, my friend, how do you know about Elizabeth?”

  Four Winds lifted his chin and folded his arms across his chest. “The news traveled to the band of outlaws of which I am a part,” he said, holding his voice steady, although his heart was pounding like distant thunder within his chest. “Now you know that the law was not wrong about me. I am a criminal who enjoys raiding the white settlers. Elizabeth’s father is friends with the leader of the gang. The father asked his help in setting Elizabeth free from prison. They are on their way even now, Strong Heart. We will not be able to reach Elizabeth before the gang gets to her. It is dangerous for you, Strong Heart, either way—whether she is in prison, or freed by the outlaws. If she is able to point an accusing finger at you for setting me free, you could be the one that will use the hangman’s noose that has been readied for me.”

  Strong Heart was silent and numb from Four Winds’s confession. He recalled his ravaged village the day after the fatal attack on his people, and his father’s thoughts about Four Winds’s part in it.

  He reached a hand to Four Winds’s throat and sank his fingers in it. “I do not know if I should call you pelton, foolish, or brave, for coming to my village tonight with the pretense of being my friend,” he said, his eyes filled with fire.

  Four Winds paled and his eyes widened. “What do you mean?” he gasped. “What are you saying? I have done nothing to cause you to turn on me, my friend. I have come to you tonight, for payment in part for what you did for me. But, most of all, I have come because of our lifelong friendship. Why do you doubt me? Why do you treat me harshly, instead of as a friend?”

  “By the cover of night you did not notice that my village is being rebuilt, and that some of the totem poles stand half burned by such raiders that you profess to being part of?” Strong Heart hissed. “Can you say that you do not know of the plight of my people? That you did not ride with your friends against my people? Against me?”

  Four Winds tried to shake his head, the effort only causing Strong Heart’s fingers to dig more deeply into his flesh. “Believe me when I say that I know nothing of such a raid,” he rasped out. “And since my return to my comrades, there have been no raids, not even on the settlers. They are lying low, waiting for things to settle down since my arrest. They . . . they . . . are taking a chance riding into town to help the white woman escape. They do this because the man who is their leader asked them to, and owe him much. He keeps them in food and clothes in harder times. They did not notice when I slipped away to warn you.”

  The thought again of Elizabeth in the prison caused Strong Heart to wince and his heart to cry out in pain. He dropped his hand away from Four Winds. “We will talk later of these things that are new between us,” he said thickly. “For now, Four Winds, my heart and mind is full only of Elizabeth. Let us ride together as friends. Let us take this woman from the prison. Then, as friends, we will talk. You can explain to me why you have chosen the life of crime over the congenial life of the Suquamish.”

  Four Winds nodded and they left the longhouse in a rush. He waited for Strong Heart to go to his parents to explain why he would be gone, and for Strong Heart to get his horse.

  Soon they were riding hard beneath the moonlight, Four Winds giving Strong Heart questioning glances. “This woman!” he finally shouted. “She means much to you? You find her special?”

  Strong Heart turned flashing eyes on Four Winds. “She is my life!” he confessed loudly, his words echoing far across the land, through the forest, and to the sky.

  Chapter 22

  Whatever on my heart may fall,

  Remember, I would risk it all!

  —ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER

  It had been a day’s ride for Strong Heart and Four Winds—a ride against time. Finally, at midnight the next night, they arrived on the butte that overlooked Copper Hill Prison.

  Strong Heart glared down at the prison, seeing no activity, or light glowing from any of the barred windows. The only light that was evident was in the sheriff’s office, and even that was only a dim golden glow as it shone through the glass panes.

  Strong Heart gave Four Winds a quick glance. “You know the dangers and yet you still come with me to the prison?” he asked, his hand resting on the stock of his rifle that hung from the side of his saddle. “We could be hanging side by side on the platform tomorrow if we do not succeed in releasing my la-daila from prison. You would risk that for my woman?”

  “No,” Four Winds said flatly, giving Strong Heart a steely gaze. “I do it for you, my friend.”

  This proved many things to Strong Heart—the most important being that Four Winds could not have participated in the raid against Strong Heart’s people. It would not make sense to go against Strong Heart one minute, then ally himself the next.

  He reached over and placed a firm hand on Four Winds’s shoulder. “Friends forever?” he asked, his face questioning.

  Four Winds placed a hand on Strong Heart’s. “Forever,” he said vehemently. “Now, and always!”

  Strong Heart nodded, then dropped his hand back to his rifle, and quietly studied the prison again. He nodded once more toward Four Winds, then slapped his horse and began edging his way down the side of the butte. Four Winds followed him into the forest that bordered the prison.

  When the prison was in sight through a break in the trees, Strong Heart felt a fever of anticipation building within him as he slipped easily out of the saddle.

  Four Winds dismounted and soon they were moving stealthily through the forest. Their hands clutched their rifles, and their eyes darted about them, watching for any sudden movement.

  “I fear that this is too easy,” Strong Heart whispered to Four Winds, stopping at the edge of the forest, to stare at the door that led into the prison. “I see no activity—no people. Is everyone asleep?”

  “It may appear so but I was housed in the prison long enough to know the nighttime activities there,” Four Winds whispered back. “They are unpleasant, yet the sheriff and his deputies have a hands-off policy. Whatever happens in the shadows behind the bars is the business of the prisoners—and their victims. But ah-hah, this time of night the sheriff or whoever is in charge, sleeps. We shall enter the prison unnoticed. We shall leave just as easily.”

  What Four Winds had said about the activity in the cells after dark made Strong Heart feel ill. Who was to say what may have happened to Elizabeth?

  His jaw tightened. If Elizabeth had been defiled or even so much as touched by any man in tha
t prison, the man responsible would not live to see the next sunrise! Strong Heart would take much pleasure in plunging a knife into the man’s dark heart!

  Not letting his imagination distract him from his purpose, Strong Heart began running softly toward the door of the prison. His moccasined feet were as quiet as the pads of a cat. He glanced over at Four Winds, glad to be with his friend again on an adventure. As children, they had sought out the dangers of the forest beyond, enjoying the challenge of the bear, the panther, and the wolf.

  Yet this that they were doing tonight was even more challenging than anything else they had done in the past. For Strong Heart’s reward would be to hold Elizabeth in his arms again, to become her protector for all their tomorrows.

  Looking warily from side to side, seeing no sign of anyone, Strong Heart and Four Winds stopped long enough to lean their backs against the prison wall, to get their breaths.

  Strong Heart cocked his rifle and Four Winds cocked his.

  They stared into each other’s eyes, then nodded in unison, and crept to the door.

  Strong Heart nodded at Four Winds, then nodded toward the door latch. He then stood aside with his rifle ready to fire as Four Winds followed his silent bidding and slowly opened the door.

  Strong Heart looked inside the sheriff’s office, and he could see that a deputy was there instead of the sheriff. The deputy was fast asleep at the desk.

  Gripping his rifle, Strong Heart moved stealthily and quickly into the room, Four Winds behind him. Strong Heart rendered the deputy unconscious with a blow to his head from the butt of his rifle. The man never knew what hit him.

  “The keys,” Strong Heart said, standing guard beside the door that led to the cells. “Four Winds, get the keys.”

  Glancing over his shoulder at the deputy, Four Winds went to the pegs on the wall and slipped a ring of keys from them. Standing his rifle against the wall, he sorted through them. Soon he and Strong Heart were standing in the shadows of the back room, the moonlight sifting through the small windows of each of the cells the only light.

 

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