Elizabeth quickly clasped her hand over her mouth and gasped. She swayed with a sudden light-headedness, to know that she had guessed right at what Strong Heart was thinking.
No! She would not allow herself to believe her father was guilty of such a heinous crime. He had never stooped to such tactics to get his way.
And why should he now? He was a rich man who did not need to go to such extremes as this to make more money for himself.
No. She could not, would not believe this of her father, no matter how greedy or ambitious he was.
Earl rose shakily to his feet, his knees weak with fright. “I am innocent of this that you are accusing me of,” he said with a slight gasp. “I am not the sort to kill for my own gain. Please believe me. I did not even know of the tragedy, or I would have never come here. Especially alone. Doesn’t that prove that I am innocent? I am not a foolish man. If I had any inkling of your having just suffered a raid, I wouldn’t have set foot in your village, for fear that I would be accused of it. I value my life more than that. I am not the sort to take chances with it.”
Earl’s mind was calculating things, and his thoughts led him to what Morris Murdoch had said about having taken care of things. Could Morris have somehow attacked the village?
The thought sickened him, and now he wished that he had investigated his partner’s credentials more than he had. In truth, he did not know much about him, except that he had had the money to back up his desire to be Earl’s partner in the fishery venture.
Strong Heart rose to his full height and began walking slowly around the fire toward Earl. “You must show me proof that you had no part in the raid,” he said, his voice cold. “Your partner, Morris Murdoch? Did you not know that he is the leader of an outlaw gang? Do you deny aligning yourself with such desperadoes? Do you deny that you rode with them that day, side-by-side with your partner, purposely murdering my people?”
Earl took a shaky step backward, his heart thumping, his eyes wide. “Morris . . . is . . . the leader of a gang of outlaws?” he said, his voice thin. “God. God in heaven. No! I did not know. Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me it is a ploy you are using to trick me.”
An involuntary shiver coursed through Elizabeth, after learning the news about Morris Murdoch. But she wasn’t truly surprised, when she recalled his eyes—how cold and empty they appeared.
And she could not help but feel sorry for her father, his voice revealing to her that he had not known this about Morris, and that he was most definitely innocent of everything.
Seeing that her father was concerned, she did not want the confrontation to continue. She feared what would happen to Strong Heart if her father ended up dead and the authorities were brought into the matter. Elizabeth saw no other recourse than to stop what had begun.
Elizabeth stepped hurriedly from behind the curtain and rushed toward her father.
Earl was shocked by her appearing from nowhere.
“Elizabeth?” he gasped. He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm’s length as he looked her up and down. “Good Lord, Elizabeth. What are you doing here? And why are you dressed in such . . . such garb as that?”
Then in a flash he remembered the Indian saddle that he had found hidden in the stable and the horse that had not been theirs. He recalled Everett telling him about Elizabeth wearing an Indian dress, and began putting two and two together.
“I’m safe, Father,” Elizabeth said, her voice trembling. “That should be all that matters. Not how I happen to be here, or why I am dressed in such a way.” She swallowed hard. “But that you are here, and that you are being accused of what I know you are innocent of is why I revealed myself to you. Otherwise, Father, I would have stayed hidden behind that curtain. It was my intention never to return home again.”
Earl turned pale. “Never?” he gasped. “Elizabeth, why? Never is a long, long time. Have I been this unbearable to you? Did my neglect turn you totally against me?”
“It was not your neglect that made me fall in love with Strong Heart,” Elizabeth said. “That alone is the reason I have decided to stay with Strong Heart—to be his wife.”
Earl gasped and slowly shook his head. “No,” he said thickly. “You can’t be serious.”
“Very,” Elizabeth said, then turned her eyes to Strong Heart. “Darling, I grant you that my father is capable of many things, but he could never kill anyone. My father wouldn’t come to your village, killing and maiming. Please believe me. Please don’t harm my father.” She swallowed hard again. “I know that he didn’t know about Morris Murdoch. I could tell how shocked he was when you revealed this to him. He had no idea he had aligned himself with such a man as that. Please let my father leave the village unharmed. For me, Strong Heart? For me?”
Strong Heart and Chief Moon Elk exchanged troubled glances, then Chief Moon Elk broke the silence. “White man, you can go, but leave my people in peace,” he said with a grumble. “Do not bring your words to us again. This is our life. We want to live it without your interference.”
“I understand,” Earl said, then reached for Elizabeth’s hand. “Come home with me, baby. It’s safe to now. The sheriff and deputy are both dead, and all of the records were burned in the fire that ravaged the prison. Come home with me, Elizabeth. Let me make all of this up to you. Take some more time to . . . to consider these plans to marry someone of such different customs. Please? For me? Give me another chance?”
“The prison caught fire?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes wide. “What of all those people who were imprisoned there?”
“It seems whoever set the fire also set everyone free,” he said, then paled again as he realized that whoever had set Elizabeth free, had most probably set the fire. Yet she seemed genuinely surprised to know that the prison had burned.
“Thank goodness for that.” Elizabeth said, sighing. “Those poor women.”
“Come home with me, baby,” Earl persisted.
Elizabeth was suddenly torn, fearing that rejecting her father might make him become bitter toward Strong Heart, making him do something foolish—like turn Strong Heart in to the authorities.
For this alone she knew what her decision must be.
She went to Strong Heart and took both of his hands in hers. “Darling, trust me when I say that I must return with my father for a while,” she said softly.
She stood on tiptoe and leaned up near his ear, whispering, “After I am assured that I have made all the wrongs right between me and my father, I will return to you. We shall be married then. Trust me, darling. This is best for all concerned.”
Strong Heart glowered down at her, silence like a wall between them as Elizabeth awaited his answer.
“I feel that what you are doing is wrong,” he finally said. “But I will not stop you from going. Soon I will come for you, after the salmon harvest.”
Tears welled up in Elizabeth’s eyes. She flung herself into his arms and hugged him tightly, dreading leaving him, yet knowing that she must.
Always and forever she would do anything and everything to protect him.
Chapter 26
Go from me, yet I feel that I shall stand
Henceforward in thy shadow.
—ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING
It had been a long journey, where feelings had been revealed between Elizabeth and her father that had never been aired before. She now knew that he sincerely loved her, and he knew the depth of her love for Strong Heart.
Sitting beside a campfire the night of their journey home, she had explained everything to her father—about the first time she and Strong Heart had met, and about the times he had saved her life.
Her father now knew that her time with him would be short, for she was going to return to Strong Heart soon. And her father had promised not to interfere.
Riding side by side toward the huge gate that led into their estate grounds, Elizabeth glanced toward the Sound, and then at the fishery. “Father, what are you going to do about Morris Murdoch now that
you know of his involvement with outlaws?” she asked, shifting her gaze to her father. “Surely you will separate yourself from him. You don’t actually need him. You have always done quite well for yourself without the aid of a partner. It should be no different now.”
Earl gave Elizabeth an unsteady glance. Although she had been truthful with him about everything between herself and the Indian, he still did not feel that this was the time to reveal his financial status to her. He had hoped to turn everything around to his favor, before telling her about his bankruptcy in San Francisco.
And now, even though he had not yet found any Indians who would work for him, he still saw his fishery as something that could succeed. He had many men under his employ. Certainly they could catch enough salmon to turn over a substantial profit for him.
He decided he would wait and reveal his money problems to Elizabeth after he had solved them.
As for Morris Murdoch—the son of a bitch, he thought bitterly—he was still needed, no matter how he had accumulated his riches. Earl was depending on Morris’s money for his survival until his fishery showed a profit.
“I don’t want to rush into anything with Morris,” he finally said, guiding his horse through the wide gate, Elizabeth’s horse keeping stride with his. “If he’s a criminal, I don’t want to do anything that might get him riled up against us. Who knows what he’s capable of? I think I’ll feel him out—see if I can ease him out of the business, slowlike, so’s not to have someone like him out for revenge later.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Elizabeth said softly, then her eyebrows lifted when she saw a fancy horse and carriage parked in front of the house. A footman waited beside the carriage.
“Whose carriage is that?” Earl said, studying it. “I don’t recognize it. And who would come calling, anyhow?”
He paused, then looked over at Elizabeth. “Besides Maysie and Strong Heart, have you made an acquaintance you haven’t told me about?” he asked.
“Father, I believe I’ve told you everything on the way back from Strong Heart’s village,” Elizabeth said, laughing softly. “There’s nothing else to say, or anyone else to explain. I have no idea whose carriage that might be.”
Her eyes lit up with a thought. “Except for Maysie,” she said. “Could it be Maysie?”
Then she frowned, recalling the last time she had seen Maysie—how she was dressed and whom she had been with.
“No. I’m sure it’s not her,” she quickly added. “I doubt we shall ever see her again.”
“I’m sorry about Maysie,” Earl said, giving Elizabeth a heartfelt, apologetic look. “Sorry as hell.”
He then slapped his reins and urged his horse into a gallop toward the house, Elizabeth following his lead.
When they reached the house, both dismounted and secured their reins to the hitching post, then took the stairs together up to the porch.
Before they had a chance to open the door, it burst open and Elizabeth found herself suddenly engulfed in a woman’s embrace. Her father gaped openly at the affectionate scene.
Elizabeth stood, shocked to her core, stiff and silent. It was her mother! Her mother smelled sweetly of French perfume, and wore a soft mink wrap around her shoulders.
“Marilyn?” Earl finally stammered out, his surprise and shock immense. “My God, Marilyn!”
“Mama?” Elizabeth said, all of her resentment of her mother’s abandonment overwhelming her.
Marilyn stroked her daughter’s back through the buckskin fabric of her dress. “I’m here now, darling,” she whispered. “Oh, Lord, Elizabeth, I’m so sorry for what I did. So very sorry.”
Elizabeth’s mind cleared and she recalled her mother’s reasons for having disappeared in the first place. A warmth of love and understanding flooded Elizabeth.
With tears streaming from her eyes, she returned her mother’s hug. “Mama,” she cried. “Oh, Mama. I’ve missed you so much.”
Earl cleared his throat and stepped up to Marilyn and tapped her lightly on the shoulder. “If I may interrupt this tender scene, I would like to know where you have been, and why you have chosen to return now,” he said hoarsely.
Her brilliant red hair swirled into a chignon atop her head, her vivaciously clear, green eyes sparkling, Marilyn swung away from Elizabeth and smiled up at Earl. “Hello, Earl,” she said, extending a gloved hand. “It’s been a long time.”
Earl gazed down at the extended hand for a moment, then lifted his hand and clasped his fingers around hers. “A damn sight longer than is decent,” he said in a growl. Then he did something that made Elizabeth gasp. He gathered Marilyn into his arms and held her in a tight embrace. “Damn it, Marilyn, why’d you have to disappear on us? Did I make life that unbearable for you? If so, I’m sorry. Damn sorry.”
Elizabeth placed a hand over her mouth, to try and stifle her sobs as tears washed across her face. For so long she had wanted her parents to reunite, but had never counted on it. Especially after they had moved from San Francisco. That Marilyn was now here stunned her. But the fact that both her mother and father seemed genuinely happy to see each other again seemed to make all the wrongs right.
Marilyn eased from Earl’s embrace. She was still a beautiful woman. Her magnificent breasts strained against the silk fabric of her pale green dress, and the gathered full skirt emphasized her tiny waist. “There’s so much to say,” Marilyn said with a soft purr. “Let’s go inside. Frannie has prepared tea.”
Marilyn turned back to Elizabeth and placed her hands to her cheeks. “Darling, when I heard that you and your father had moved just outside of Seattle, and that you had been abducted, I just had to come and see your father about it,” she said. “A team of wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”
Again she hugged Elizabeth. “But you’re all right,” she whispered. “My baby is all right.”
She stepped back and looked Elizabeth slowly up and down, puzzlement in her eyes. “A buckskin dress?” she asked. “Isn’t that what Indians wear?” Her eyes focused on Elizabeth. “Have you been with Indians, Elizabeth?”
“Yes, ma’am, I have,” Elizabeth said, lifting her chin proudly. “And, Mama, I’m soon to marry one.”
“What?” Marilyn gasped, placing a hand to her throat. “An Indian? You are marrying an Indian?”
“Don’t make it sound like I’m about to commit a crime, Mama,” Elizabeth said, her eyes flashing. “If you want to talk about crimes, what you did—”
A sudden presence at the door stopped Elizabeth’s outburst. She caught sight of Maysie, then rushed to her and hugged her. “Maysie,” she said, clinging tightly to her. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Your mother asked me to direct her to your house,” Maysie said softly, smiling as Elizabeth stepped back and clasped one of Maysie’s hands.
“Mama?” Elizabeth asked, giving her mother a quick glance, then looking again at Maysie and seeing the modesty of her attire. It was not anything like the skimpy dress that Maysie had been wearing the last time Elizabeth had seen her. Today she wore a pretty cotton dress trimmed with eyelet lace. “How do you know my mother?”
“I work for her,” Maysie said matter-of-factly, smiling at Marilyn. “She’s given me a home, food, clothes, and a reason to continue living.”
Earl went to Marilyn and tilted her chin up with a forefinger. “What does she mean?” he said ominously. “Where do you live? And what sort of establishment do you run?”
Marilyn’s smile faded along with her courage. “Please let us go inside,” she murmured. “I . . . I . . . shall explain everything then.”
Earl nodded, and placed a hand at Marilyn’s elbow, ushering her past Maysie and Elizabeth, and on inside. Elizabeth and Maysie followed. They were soon sitting comfortably before a roaring fire in the fireplace, and sipping tea. Frannie stood by the door, marveling over Elizabeth being home again.
“Start from the beginning. Marilyn,” Earl said, lighting a cigar, flicking the match into the curling flames of the heart
h. “For years now my imagination has conjured up many things that may have happened to you. But never did I envision you living in Seattle. It’s just recently become somewhat more civilized. Before, it was just men and whores in this town.”
The cigar almost popped from between his lips as he spoke the word “whores.” He blanched at the thought of what Marilyn might tell him.
He looked at her, marking that she had not aged hardly a year since he had last seen her. He remembered her in bed—how she had seemed to have had experience way beyond what he had taught her—his virginal wife—on their wedding night. She had seemed to know skills of lovemaking that would make a church mouse blush.
He had to wonder if she had since improved her skills.
Now, after seeing her again, he knew that he still loved and adored her with all of his being, and he would have her back in a minute, should she offer herself to him.
Elizabeth sat with her back straight on the sofa, Maysie beside her, both listening intently as Marilyn started to speak. Elizabeth’s heart cried out to her mother the more her mother tried desperately to explain.
“Earl, you know how it hurt me every time you left to travel to the Orient, and other strange places, leaving me behind to sleep alone at night,” she began, giving Elizabeth an uneasy glance.
She cleared her throat nervously, then looked at Earl again. “Earl, you seemed to have forgotten that you had a wife,” she said, near tears. “I couldn’t bear those lonely nights any longer. I . . . saw . . . no choice but to leave. I came to Seattle to seek a new way of life and earned top dollar in a brothel. I saved my money to buy my own place. Earl, I am now madam of the classiest brothel in Seattle. Maysie works for me there.”
There was a sudden silence in the room. Then Earl rose from the chair and went to the fireplace and placed his arm on the mantel, leaning his brow against it.
Wide-eyed, and choked up, Elizabeth watched as her mother went to her father and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Earl, it’s not that bad,” she said softly. “Please. It’s not that bad. I am respected. Truly I am.”
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