Earl nodded. Then he felt despair over losing his daughter again. He was beginning to think that he would never, ever, see her again, and felt that it was his punishment for having neglected her all of those years when he had been fortunate enough to have and love her.
He silently vowed to himself that if he ever had the opportunity to be her father again, he would make everything up to her. He would show her what a father’s true devotion was all about.
Chapter 24
All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
Night long within my arms in love and sleep she lay.
—ERNEST DOWSON
Mount Rainier was rising through morning fog as Strong Heart’s village came into sight. Elizabeth clung to Strong Heart’s waist as his horse cantered slowly across the land, her gaze drawn to the activity of some Suquamish women on the sandy bank of the river.
Using wooden sticks bound loosely with a twist of cedar bark, a young woman carefully extracted a hot rock from a bed of coals. With the sizzling rock securely clamped in the tongs, the woman ran a few steps across the beach to some women who were working around a big, square wooden box filled with steaming water.
Quickly the girl dipped the hot rock in a small container of water to rinse off the ash from the fire, then dropped it into the box.
“What are those women doing?” Elizabeth asked, her curiosity aroused. She was glad to have something to say to break the silence that had fallen between her and Strong Heart the closer they had come to his village.
It puzzled her how his mood had changed from being caring and loving the previous evening, to someone distant now, as if he was carrying the burden of the world on his shoulders.
She had to believe it was because many duties awaited him helping his father prepare for the salmon run.
Elizabeth prayed that his moody silence had nothing to do with her. Yet, she could not see any reason why it should. Nothing had changed between them that she was aware of.
Strong Heart was silent for a moment longer, then heaved a sigh and answer
ed her. It seemed to her a half-hearted explanation, as though it was bothersome to him to answer. Again she was puzzled. Usually he was anxious to explain the ways of his people to her.
Why would it be different now? she wondered, feeling unnerved by his attitude.
“The women are boiling whale blubber to extract oil from it,” Strong Heart said, gazing over at the activity. “My braves must have found a whale washed up on the beach at the mouth of the river, where the river and sea join. You see, Elizabeth, my tribe does not hunt whales, but we have learned to take advantage of stray carcasses. This whale will provide our people with much blubber, which can be used in many ways. Our braves are always on the lookout for such a catch as this.”
“And soon you will participate in the salmon run,” Elizabeth said. The thought of the salmon brought her father to her mind. Again she had given him cause to worry, perhaps enough to even forget about his fishery.
But she doubted that anything could cause him to lose interest in his business. Not even her disappearance. His work was his life—not her. He would probably mourn her loss for a brief moment, then move ahead with his plans.
And if he had loved her as a devoted father should, he would have found a way to get her out of that dreadful prison.
As it was, only Strong Heart seemed to truly care enough, and now even he was acting strangely.
She was disturbed by how he had called her by her name a moment ago, instead of his la-daila.
Confusion flooded in, in greater intensity. She searched through the past few hours, to remember if she had said or done anything that might have angered him, yet was unable to find anything that was less than beautiful: The way he had held her. The way he had kissed her. The way he had made love to her.
It was all too perfect for him to be behaving so oddly now.
Strong Heart’s jaw tightened at her mention of the salmon run, for it brought him back to why he was in such a sullen mood today. He had decided to confront her about her father as soon as they got settled at his longhouse. He would question her as to why she had found the need to lie to him about her father, instead of being honest with him.
Trust was needed in a relationship, and now it was evident that it was lacking between them.
Ah-hah, he had laid his anger aside long enough to rescue her from the prison, and even through the night as he held her in his arms, for it had been such relief to know that she was safe. During those special moments with her, when he was thankful she was alive, he had forgotten why he should be angry.
But now, it was different. He had to know the truth. For every time he held her in his arms, he did not want to think that he was holding someone who could be less than truthful with him.
He expected that the woman who was soon to be his wife should have no reason to feel that she had to lie to him.
He did not want to tell her that they could not be married— that she wasn’t worthy of a man who would one day be a powerful chief.