by Linda Ladd
"Sssh, sweet, we are safe now, both of us. I am one of them."
"One of them? What do you mean?"
"They were impressed that I destroyed their gauntlet. They said I had the soul of a Mohawk and adopted me into the tribe. That's what the singing and chanting was about."
"But they were going to kill you. They were going to make you run the gauntlet!"
"Their ways are hard to understand, but we've got to leave here now while they're having the feast. Compton's trying to get the chief to turn me over to the English, but when I told them you carried my child, they let me come to you."
"Yes, we must go quickly, but what about Adam? We can't move him. He's hurt too badly."
Donovan pressed her head against his chest, his voice low and sorrowful.
"He's gone, Alysson. I just saw him. The beating was just too much for him."
Alysson went rigid in his arms, then wept against his chest. Donovan held her, but his eyes were on the door, afraid Compton would do something to prevent their leaving.
"I'm sorry, my love, but Adam's gone now and there's nothing we can do for him. I've got to get you out of here. If the British take me, Compton will take you with him. We've got to get to the other side of the river where we'll be safe."
Alysson tried to stop crying as he helped her up, but the tears continued as they stepped outside. No one was in sight, and Donovan led her quickly between the lodges to the beach. The river stretched down to the falls in a silvery ribbon, the full moon hanging low in the sky. Donovan hurriedly helped Alysson into one of the canoes.
"Hold it, MacBride. You aren't going anywhere."
Donovan whipped around to find Douglas a few yards away, moonlight glinting on the pistol in his hand. He wasted no more time, shoving the canoe into the water as he leapt into the stern. Douglas pulled the trigger, but the bullet missed Donovan where he hunched low, paddling as hard as he could.
"He's coming after us,” Alysson cried, able to see Douglas pushing a boat into the water. Donovan thrust his paddle deeper, angling the lightweight craft upriver against the current toward the opposite bank. He had to go wide, keeping upriver from the rapids that led to the falls, but the current was strong, pushing the boat back toward Goat Island. He could not risk getting any closer to the island, and he leaned lower, using every ounce of his strength. They were past the midpoint of the fork that wound along the American bank when the crack of Compton's gun came from behind them. Donovan leaned forward, protecting Alysson with his body, but the moment he stopped paddling, his momentum was lost. The canoe turned dangerously, sliding sideways and backward, sending them farther down the narrow channel that led to the American falls. Before Donovan could right the boat and begin to paddle again, Compton came alongside, grabbing at the side of their canoe.
Alysson clung to the sides of the rocking craft as Donovan cursed, swinging his fist to backhand Douglas. The blow knocked Douglas away from them, but to Donovan's stark horror, the other canoe upended, flinging Compton into the water and ramming the paper-thin side of their own boat.
Alysson screamed as the flimsy canoe began to sink, but her cry was ended abruptly as the boat went over, dumping both Donovan and her into the water. She came up choking and gasping as she tried to swim in the perilous current.
"Donovan!” she cried, her words flung away by rushing water and wind. Donovan fought desperately toward her as they were swept on toward the falls. He finally managed to reach her, clutching one hand to the back of her tunic. They had already bypassed the small island that lay between Goat Island and the shore, and he fought his way toward an uprooted tree that had been jammed sideways from the shore. It was the only chance they had, and with superhuman effort, he lunged at its branches as they were swept past it. Somehow he managed to grab hold of a submerged branch. He held Alysson tightly, getting her body between his arms, hearing her screams of fear. But even as he held her there, safe for a moment, he could feel the tree swaying from their combined weight as the steady current pounded at its anchoring. They had little time before it gave way. He saw Compton then, flailing his arms in the water, trying to reach them.
"Hold on to the tree, Alysson! Hold on!” Donovan yelled over the roar of the river.
Alysson clutched it, her cheek against the rough wet bark, water gurgling and splashing over her head. Donovan held her securely there, reaching out his hand toward Compton. When Douglas was an arm's length away, the tree shifted, breaking Donovan's grip. Compton was swept past them. Donovan held Alysson with one arm and the tree limb with the other, helpless now to help Compton as he was taken with increasing velocity toward the Great Falls.
Donovan shut his eyes as the other man disappeared into the white mist at the edge of the thundering water. He wasted no more time, knowing their fragile lifeline could snap at any moment.
"Lock your arms around my neck,” he said, pulling hand over hand down the limb toward the bank. Alysson obeyed, resting her head on his shoulder, coughing and sputtering each time another wave of water crashed over their heads.
Donovan inched along as fast as he could, and when his feet touched the muddy bottom, he still could not stand against the pull of the water. He dragged himself along the roots until he was able to push Alysson out of the water onto the rocky bank. With his last remaining strength, he pulled himself up to safety to lie beside her, holding her quivering wet body against him, her tears of fright and grief drowned out by the endless roaring of the falls and the thundering of his heart.
Epilogue
Wildwood
Christmas, 1812
The fire crackled cheerfully on the hearth in the small family parlor, and Alysson sat on the floor before it. She smiled contentedly as she gazed down at her sturdy black-haired son, suckling contentedly at her breast. Bright emerald-green eyes looked up at her, and as she murmured an endearment, he stopped his nursing long enough to present her with a wide toothless grin.
She laughed softly, quite sure he was the most beautiful baby who had ever lived, then looked up as Donovan rose from his chair across from them. He eased down beside her, his smile tender as he put one large palm atop little Adam's head.
"You looked so beautiful just then when you smiled at him,” he whispered, and Alysson laid her head against her husband's wide shoulder, feeling content and safe.
A chill rose as she remembered how close they had come to perishing over the falls as Douglas had. It had been months ago now, but she would never forget the terror, the helplessness, she had felt being swept downstream. She barely remembered the aftermath—she supposed she had been in shock for a time—but she knew Donovan had carried her up the riverbank to Black Rock. They had recuperated there for a week before they had returned to New York. And poor Adam, the man she had not known as a father until it was too late to really love him as such. Why did he have to die? And in such a cruel way?
She shivered, hating that memory, having seen him fall beneath the clubs and sticks a thousand times in her dreams. Donovan's arm tightened around her shoulder, and she leaned close to him. She was safe and happy now, despite the war that still raged, and very glad that Donovan worked in the defense of New York instead of at Fort Niagara or on the seas, as Brace was doing with the Halcyone. She looked at Olivia then, who sat reading the letter that had just arrived from the Halcyone, while Katie helped Mathilde and Freddie string decorations for the huge fir tree in the hall.
"My word,” Olivia said suddenly, sitting straighter in her chair. Everyone looked at her.
"What is it?” Donovan asked, taking his son from Alysson to prop him against his bent knees. Adam gurgled with pleasure and held fast to his father's long brown fingers with both his chubby fists.
"Brace says he's been accused of kidnapping some French heiress who stowed away in his sea chest while the Halcyone was docked in New Orleans."
Alysson turned alarmed eyes to her husband, and Donovan frowned.
"What else does he say? Has he been arrested?"
Olivia read further, then raised her eyes to them in wonder. She shook her head.
"Why, he says nothing else about it at all. There is a long description of this girl, Chalice, and her eyes are a strange silvery color, but he says little else about the charges against him."
Donovan stared at her, then threw back his head and laughed.
"Well, then, I don't really think we need to worry about him overly much.” He smiled at Alysson. “It sounds to me as if this Chalice might have picked the right place to hide."
Alysson returned his smile, hoping he was right. It was time for her handsome blond brother-in-law to settle down and find the same happiness with his silver-eyed lady that Alysson had found here in America with his brother. Or almost as much, she thought with a smile as Donovan lifted their son playfully into the air. For, indeed, no one could be as happy as she.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1987 by Linda Ladd
Cover design by Open Road Integrated Media
ISBN 978-1-4976-1621-9
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
345 Hudson Street
New York, NY 10014
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LINDA LADD
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