Song of the Raven (Daughters of the Prairie 3)
Page 27
“Yes. But I won his heart and convinced him to give it up. So he bought a small farm, and your brother was born within a year of our marriage. Two years later, you arrived.”
“You and Papa never talk about David.”
“No. Your father issued an edict shortly after David was taken. We were never to mention him.”
“Why? How did you cope?”
“I threw myself into raising you. And your father turned to God.”
“So that’s when he became a preacher.”
“Yes. And it has served him well. He found peace in the Lord’s teachings and in helping others. But last night, when he saw you…”
Ella regarded her mother’s face. Such a beauty, she must have been. Still was. But her violet eyes—so like Ella’s own—were troubled. Ella trembled with the need to know the truth.
“But why, Mama? I know it must have been strange to see me with an Indian, but Papa has ministered to the Indians. He has ministered to the downtrodden. To the evil, even. Why, then, did he react so harshly?”
“It brought back memories for him, child. Memories long buried. You see, your brother was taken by Indians.”
Ella gasped and touched her fingers to her lips. Lips that had so recently kissed the man she loved. “Are you certain?”
“It is what your father believes,” Naomi said. “The night David was taken, a band of Lakota Sioux were in the area. We were traveling through Kansas, on the edge of Indian territory. David was gone when we awoke.”
“Then you don’t know for sure if the Indians took him.”
“No. But there was no reasoning with your father. He was convinced—is still convinced—that they took his son.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s nonsense. Without proof—”
“There are other reasons he hates Indians, Ella,” Naomi said softly.
“Why, then? Tell me. Help me understand why he treated Raven so.”
Naomi shook her head. “I cannot. It’s not my story to tell.”
“I suppose I can’t force you to speak to me. Clearly I’m just a child to you. But at least tell me this. If he has such valid reasons for hating Indians, how has he been able to minister to them all these years?”
“Indians were kind to him once. Kind to me. So your father moved forward. He learned forgiveness.”
“He wasn’t very forgiving this eve.”
“No.” Naomi shook her head. “Seeing you with an Indian brought losing David back to him.”
Ella nodded. ?
?He said he wouldn’t lose another child to them. Now I know what he meant.”
“Yes. Seeing you in the arms of that Indian—”
“He’s not that Indian.” Ella whipped her hands to her hips. “His name is Silver Raven, and he is good, and kind, and gentle. And he happens to be the man I love.”
Naomi smiled. “All the fire I used to possess. I see myself in you, Ella. So many times I stood before my father, and before yours, hands on my hips, shooting daggers from my eyes. I admire your spirit.”
“My spirit? You have your own spirit,” Ella said. “What happened to it?”
She sighed. “Losing David took its toll on me as well. When you have a child of your own, you’ll understand.”
The look on her mother’s face was pure torment, and Ella felt it in the depths of her soul. She truly did not understand her father’s wrath, her father’s pain. But her mother did.