Strong Heart drifted off too and was not aware of a lone horseman riding his horse in a soft trot beside the campsite. The horseman’s eyebrows raised as he saw Strong Heart and the white woman lying at his side—this was a strange sight, indeed.
He rode onward, his eyes gleaming. He had found something to laugh about when he reached Seattle and visited his favorite saloon.
Chapter 32
If ever two were one, surely we,
If ever man were lov’d by wife, then thee.
—ANNE BRADSTREET
The afternoon was fading, the distant hills shaded in purple and gray when Elizabeth awakened. At first she was startled, wondering where she was, and then it came to her—she and Strong Heart had broken away from the others to rest.
The fire, she thought brooding to herself. It had taken away her father’s dreams, but surely for only a while. As determined as he was, he would rebuild and then Strong Heart’s grandfather would have placed himself in jeopardy for naught.
Then what? Would Proud Beaver return, to wreak destruction on her father again?
This time, would her father die?
The thought sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.
She forced herself to think of better things—of her future with Strong Heart, of being his wife, and the mother of his children. Soon that dream would become a reality, and she would let nothing or nobody stand in the way of the happiness that she had found with this wonderful man.
“My Suquamish husband,” she whispered to herself, testing the words on her lips, loving them.
Rising up on one elbow, she gazed at Strong Heart. She smiled and reached a hand out toward him, yet did not touch him for fear of waking him. She had sorely needed sleep, but it appeared that Strong Heart had needed it worse than she. He still slept soundly, his breathing even, the artery at his throat pulsing with a steady beat.
Her mouth felt as if it was filled with cotton. Elizabeth turned and looked at the stream that caught the last flickering rays of the lowering sun in its rippling water. Careful not to disturb Strong Heart, she rose quietly to her feet and went to the stream and knelt beside it.
After taking several gulps from her cupped hands, she refreshed herself by splashing water onto her face. She rose slowly again, her stomach growling with hunger.
She turned and glanced at Strong Heart. He was still asleep.
She then spied a bush which displayed an array of bright red berries beside the stream, but it was quite a distance from the campsite.
Her hunger overpowering her caution, Elizabeth started walking toward the bush. When she nearly reached it, she stopped when she heard the sound of an approaching horseman.
Fear grabbed at her heart, for she had wandered too far from Strong Heart to get back to him quickly enough. She looked anxiously around her, searching for something large enough to hide behind.
But she found only a copse of birch trees with narrow trunks. She had no choice but to remain in the open, at the mercy of whoever was coming her way. Her only hope was that the horse’s hoofbeats had awakened Strong Heart and he had found her gone. And he would come looking for her with the protection of his rifle.
Elizabeth·s eyes widened when the horseman came into full view, quickly recognizing Four Winds. He had seen her just at the same moment she had seen him, it seemed, for he was now raising a hand in the air in silent greeting.
Elizabeth sighed with relief. Then her relief was replaced with apprehension. Four Winds had said that he was going to see Maysie, so why would he be this far from Seattle? Four Winds drew his horse to a skittering halt.
Elizabeth ran to him as Four Winds slid easily out of the saddle, facing her with a frown. “Four Winds, what is it?” she asked, her voice anxious. “What are you doing here? And where is Maysie?”
“I shall go for Maysie later,” Four Winds said in a grumble. “Strong Heart’s and your welfare came first.” He looked past Elizabeth’s shoulder, seeing Strong Heart asleep in the distance.
He then placed a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “I must go and warn Strong Heart,” he said solemnly. “There is not that much time.”
Elizabeth paled. “Warn him?” she murmured. “Warn him about what? And what do you mean by saying there is not that much time? Tell me, Four Winds. Tell me now.”
“On my way to get Maysie, I saw a posse leaving Seattle,” Four Winds explained. “I searched for my informant friend who knows everything about everyone to ask where the posse was going. He told me that a rider had come into town, and had been bragging and laughing during a poker game about seeing an Indian and a white woman asleep together in the forest. The new sheriff in town picked up on it and recalled the talk about a woman having escaped prison on the night of the prison’s burning. He figured that this could be the one. He said that she fit the description of the missing woman.” Four Winds paused for a second, and then continued. “The sheriff said that any woman who was sleeping with a low-down Indian would be the sort that would be an escaped fugitive,” he hissed out. “The sheriff also said that the Indian was more than likely the one who had set the fire, and helped her escape. The sheriff gathered together a posse and rode out of town, heading in this direction. Knowing the paths of the forest so well, I took a shortcut, hoping to reach you before those who would like to hang you and Strong Heart.”
Elizabeth’s head was spinning. What should she do? She turned and gazed at Strong Heart, a sob lodging in her throat at the thought of this wonderful man possibly being arrested. The thought of the hanging platform haunted her. She had to do something to protect Strong Heart from having to face such a ghastly end as that. His people depended on him. He was the future for his people. And although he was also her future, her life, she suddenly knew what she must do to save him.
She turned to Four Winds and grabbed him by the arm, her eyes pleading. “Don’t go to Strong Heart with this news. I have a plan that will spare him the humiliation of being arrested. Please cooperate with me, Four Winds. Will you?”