Wild Embrace

“I assure you I am just fine,” Elizabeth said. Her heart was pounding recklessly within her chest, but not from danger. It pounded from the excitement of having been with the Indian, even if for only a few moments.

“I’m damn glad that everything is okay,” Earl said.

Then he shifted his feet nervously, his eyes not meeting hers. “Baby, I . . . uh . . . was coming to the house for another reason,” he said with a stammer. “I’ve got several dependable men working on the fishery. I feel that I can leave for a spell without being here to oversee every nail pounded into wood . . .”

Before he could finish, a stocky man, with brindled sidewhiskers, sporting huge pistols holstered at each hip, came and stood beside Earl.

Earl swung an arm around the man’s hefty shoulder. “Elizabeth, this is Morris Murdoch. You know. I’ve talked about him often enough. He’s my partner in the fishery venture,” he said, a smug smile across his face. He nodded at Morris. “Morris, this is my daughter, Elizabeth. Isn’t she everything I bragged about?”

“And even more than that,” Morris said in a flat drawl. He cocked his wide-brimmed hat aggressively at Elizabeth, then reached out to shake hands with her. “Pleased to meet you, Ma’am.”

Elizabeth stared down at Morris Murdoch’s huge pistols, stiffened, then looked up at him as she reluctantly shook his hand. When he released it, she wiped her palm on the skirt of her dress. Morris’s hand had been so clammy and cold.

She nodded at him, not wanting to say that she was pleased to meet him, for, in truth, she wasn’t. She had heard her father speak often of Morris Murdoch, ever since her father had chosen Seattle for his fishery.

But this was the first time she had met him and she could not help but take an instant dislike to him. A tall man, surely over six feet in height, he had eyes of a peculiar shade of blue that glinted menacingly down at her.

She could not help but equate such eyes with those of a killer. Then she shrugged off such a thought. She knew her father would not align himself with a man of questionable reputation.

“Elizabeth, what I was saying, is that I’m too eager to wait any longer before going to speak to the Indians,” Earl said, interrupting her wary thoughts. “Morris and I are going to leave now, to talk business with the Indians—salmon business.”

Elizabeth gasped at the news as she turned her eyes back to her father. First he had dumped her on these faraway shores, and now he was going to travel to unknown territories, leaving her alone, waiting to see if he returned alive or dead.

She feared that he might not return one day from his reckless adventures. This could be the time, the worst time of all for her to be left without a father. Without a protector.

But she was silent. She had said all that was possible that could be said to such a father. She would have to wait again to see what fate handed him—and in turn, her.

She watched disbelievingly as Everett, their black groom, brought two saddled horses to the outside of the fence, dutifully holding them by the reins at the gate. Bulging saddlebags were on each of the horses. Her father was leaving her so soon, and she knew that he planned to be gone for several days and nights.

An emptiness filled her, the same feeling that she had always felt at her father’s departure on his lengthy journeys.

Earl turned and followed Elizabeth’s stare, then smiled when he saw the readied horses. “Ah, I see that my orders have been promptly followed,” he said, glancing over at Morris. “Are you ready to ride, Morris?”

“Anytime,” Morris said, his voice a silken, lazy drawl which rankled Elizabeth’s nerves.

Earl turned back to Elizabeth and took her hand in his. “Baby, please understand why I must leave,” he said. Elizabeth recognized the words he always spoke before heading out on an adventure. “It’s business, Elizabeth. Business.”

He cleared his throat nervously when he saw her set jaw and her eyes fill with defiance.

“I’ll be gone for several days,” he said, releasing her hand, not wanting to feel her reaction when he gave her a particular order that he knew that she would resent. “Elizabeth, I don’t want you leaving the premises under any circumstances while I am gone, unless escorted by one of the servants. Do you hear?”

Elizabeth tilted her chin stubbornly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of agreeing to anything he asked of her at this moment.

And what did it matter to him, anyway, she wondered. Surely if something happened to her he would be better off. He would be free to do as he damn well pleased without having to offer awkward apologies or explanations to anyone.

She knew that she should have told him about having seen the two Indians, but she was glad now that she hadn’t. She had something of her own that she could keep from her father. The secret about the Indians.

No. She would not tell him anything. He didn’t deserve knowing her secrets—intriguing secrets that she could fill her lonely hours with. She would search for both Indians, to see why they were on the property that was now owned by her father. Although she knew that she might be placing herself in danger, she felt an excitement that she had never felt before at the thought of seeing the handsome Indian again.

“I understand your silence,” Earl said. He looked with wavering eyes at his daughter for a moment longer, then spun around and walked hurriedly to the horses.

Flicking a tear from the corner of her eye with a finger, Elizabeth watched her father and Morris ride away on their horses. She watched them until they were no longer in sight. Then she looked with interest at the dark, silent forest. She quickly decided that this was the perfect opportunity to go exploring, hoping to find clues as to where the Indians had come from, and why—especially the young Indian.

Frannie came lumbering from the house, coughing and wiping at her dark eyes. “There you is,” she said, moving to Elizabeth’s side. “Lordy, lordy, I neva’ thought I’d eva’ get that room cleared of smoke. That fireplace needs a cleanin’ bad. Don’t neva’ lights a fire in it again, honey, until we sees that it’s cleaned first.”

Elizabeth laughed softly. “I don’t think you have to worry about that,” she said, again studying the forest. The chill of the morning breeze caused goosebumps to rise on her flesh, as well as the apprehension she felt at wandering alone where she knew that she shouldn’t. She shivered.

Frannie placed a chubby hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “Come bac