White Fire

He felt as though a piece of his heart was being left behind as he rode away. He didn’t dare take another look at his son, for fear that he would turn back and get him.

He rode in a hard gallop out of Pig’s Eye, and when his cabin came into sight through a break in the trees, he saw a horse tethered at his hitching rail. White Fire tightened his reins and brought his steed to a quick halt. “Chief Gray Feather?” he whispered.

Thinking it was the chief, he rode on and dismounted and went inside his cabin, stopping short with surprise when he saw who was there, sitting in a chair, waiting for him.

“Colonel Russell?” White Fire said, his eyebrows rising in a question. He feared hearing the reason why the colonel himself was there, instead of a lieutenant sent to summon him to the fort. Surely it was about Flame.

The colonel had come to forbid White Fire to ever see her again.

Perhaps he had spied on Flame and had seen them together even today.

“White Fire, I need your help,” Colonel Russell said, rising from the chair. He held a pair of gloves in one hand and nervously slapped them against the palm of his other hand as he gazed with unsteady eyes at him.

“What sort of help?” White Fire asked warily, expecting the colonel to speak Flame’s name at any moment.

“As you know, I am aware of your closeness with Colonel Josiah Snelling when he was alive and in command of Fort Snelling,” Colonel Russell said, his voice tight and drawn.

“Yes, we became close, very close,” White Fire said guardedly.

Colonel Russell sighed heavily. His eyes lowered. Then they shot up again and gave White Fire a steady gaze. “Do you believe in the supernatural?” he blurted out. “In ghosts?”

“What?” White Fire asked, his eyebrows rising with surprise. “What do you mean? Why would you ask me such questions as that?”

“White Fire, I am a witness to strange occurrence

s these past few nights in the Snelling mansion, especially in Josiah’s upstairs study,” Colonel Russell blurted out. “I . . . it . . . it is as though I feel Josiah’s presence there. Also . . . also . . . things aren’t always where I have last left them. I can’t help but believe that Colonel Snelling’s ghost is there. Go back to the fort with me. Go into Josiah’s study. Tell me if you notice anything strange.”

White Fire scarcely breathed as he thought back to how he himself had recently felt while alone in Josiah Snelling’s study. He had felt a presence there. He had felt as though Josiah had been there, as though if White Fire had called his name, Josiah would have somehow answered him!

The thought of Colonel Russell now having experienced the same sort of feeling made White Fire’s heart race with the wonder of it.

“Yes, I will go with you,” he was quick to say.

“Now, White Fire,” Colonel Russell said, taking him by the elbow, and whisking him back outside to the horses. “Come with me now.”

White Fire rode with Colonel Russell to the Snelling mansion. His eyes were on the upstairs study window as he tethered his horse to the hitching rail.

His heart thudded as he went inside the house and up the stairs that led to the study. He did not even think about Flame and wonder where she might be as he entered the room.

He was filled with all sorts of anxieties, none of which at this moment included a woman.

His eyes wide, his breathing shallow, White Fire and Colonel Russell moved slowly around the study. The colonel’s eyes never left White Fire.

‘Well?” Colonel Russell softly questioned. “Do you feel anything? Please tell me it is my imagination working overtime.”

The scent of pipe tobacco being smoked suddenly wafted up inside White Fire’s nose. He quickly recognized the smell. It was quite familiar to him. It was Josiah’s own personal brand, which had been brought from France.

He sent the colonel a quick glance. “Have you recently smoked a pipe in this study?” he asked warily. “Like just before you came for me? For I smell the distinct smell of a freshly smoked pipe. I recognize the tobacco. It is Josiah Snelling’s own personal brand of tobacco.”

Colonel Russell paled. Shaken by what White Fire had said, he grabbed hold of the desk to steady himself. “No, I haven’t smoked any pipes in this study,” he said, his voice breaking. “Nor have I ever. Only cigars.”

White Fire stared at the colonel in disbelief, realizing that he was involved with something quite strange here, for he was certainly smelling the scent of Colonel Snelling’s pipe tobacco. He recalled the many times when the colonel would enjoy smoking his pipe while White Fire was in the study with him.

Colonel Russell stared at the pipes on the desk. “I wish I had rid this damn office of everything that was Josiah Snelling’s,” he grumbled. “The pipes especially. Damn it all to hell, I don’t like what’s happening. I don’t like it at all.”

White Fire turned to the colonel. “Would you mind leaving the study?” he asked, his voice drawn. “This would give me the opportunity to check things out more carefully.” He paused, swallowing hard, then said, “It would allow me some time alone with whatever . . . or whomever . . . might be here, be it a ghost, or whatever.”

“Lord almighty,” Colonel Russell stammered out, then left the study in a rush of footsteps.