White Fire

It was all too unreal, almost too much to bear or to accept.

“Your wife had a Christian burial in the fort cemetery,” Colonel Russell said softly. “Josiah Snelling saw to it for you. He also approved of your son being taken in by a family of his own choosing.”

His head spinning, his despair so keen and hurtful, White Fire rose clumsily from the chair. “I must go for my child,” he said, his voice breaking.

“You might want to think more about that decision once you are past the shock of your discoveries today,” Colonel Russell said. He rose and came around, placing a hand on White Fire’s shoulder.

He slid the colonel’s hand away. “What are their names?” he asked tersely. “Where can I find my son?”

“Your son lives with George and Maureen Greer,” Colonel Russell said, his voice drawn. “Once you are in Pig’s Eye, all you need is ask where they live and their home will be pointed out to you.”

White Fire made a sharp turn and started to leave, then was taken aback when Flame suddenly entered the room.

Their eyes instantly locked.

In her eyes White Fire could see instant recognition. As he had remembered her, she had also somehow remembered him.

He could not help but be taken by her loveliness again. He found her small, delicate, and vivacious.

Flame’s face flushed hot from her discovery. Her lips parted in a slight gasp, for she would have never imagined it possible to truly see this handsome ’breed again, and here he was. So close. So real.

And even more now than before, she found him attractive and intriguing.

Yet she knew not to allow her father to see that she recognized White Fire. She knew her father’s feelings about Indians. Surely the only reason he had taken White Fire into his private office, which was usually only used for white men, was because of her father’s prior association with White Fire’s father in St. Louis.

No, she must pretend not to know White Fire. Then she would seek out information about him in a shrewd way that would not cause her father’s wrath to come down on White Fire like lightning from the heavens. She knew that her father would never allow her to befriend an Indian, even if he was part white.

Feeling as though he was being disloyal to his wife, whom he had just discovered was dead, White Fire gave Flame one last lingering look, then fled quickly from the colonel’s office.

He forced himself not to think any more about the lovely lady. Now was not the time to be enamored by a woman. His son!

He must go and find his son.

Her heart racing, and trying to hide her excitement at seeing White Fire after having dreamed of him for so many years, Flame went to her father and gave him a hug.

“And so you have arrived safely to Minnesota’s shores, I see,” Colonel Russell said, returning Flame’s hug. “It’s good to have you with me, Reshelle. So very, very good.”

Flame didn’t waste her time telling him she preferred being called Flame over Reshelle, for he had never once obliged her request.

She hugged him again, then swept away from him. She walked idly around the room, admiring the many shelves of bound-leather books, and other grand appointments.

“And how was your journey up the Mississippi?” Colonel Russell asked, sitting down on the corner of his desk. “Was Lieutenant Green polite enough?”

“Yes, quite,” Flame said, her hair whipping around her face as she made a quick turn and smiled at her father. “I love being here, Father. I can hardly wait to go horseback riding.”

“You must not get too anxious for that,” Colonel Russell said, picking up his cigar, lighting it. “You can only go riding if you agree to an escort.”

Flame’s eyes widened and she gasped. “Never,” she objected, her back stiffening. “I’m much too old to ride with a damned military escort.”

“Watch your words or I’ll wash your mouth out with soap,” Colonel Russell growled, yanking his cigar from his mouth. “Reshelle, I am not only in command of my men here at the fort, but you also must abide by my rules.”

“Oh, Father, I had hoped you might have changed since you realized how well I have taken care of things in St. Louis without escorts or someone constantly looking over my shoulder,” she said, her voice solemn. “Did I not see to the sale of our home?”

“Yes, but that is much different than doing whimsical things here in the wilderness,” Colonel Russell said, going behind his desk and sinking into his chair. “Daughter, you will follow orders, or by damn, I might place you in a convent.”

“Oh, Lord, please, not that again,” Flame said, sighing at the threat she knew so well from her father. Through the years he had more than once threatened to put her in a convent. He knew that she would never stay, even if he tried. She would find a way of escape.

“Well, anyhow, behave, Reshelle,” Colo