Wild Embrace

Earl stopped. “Eh, what is that you said, lad?” he asked, staring at Brad.

“I know someone that’s interested in purchasing your ship,” Brad said. “This man came into town yesterday on a clipper ship. He’s spread the word that he’s prepared to buy anyone’s ship, should they have any for sale. Seems he hit it rich panning for gold in San Francisco. He says he wants the ship to travel the high seas, more for pleasure than for business.”

Earl listened with a quickly beating heart, his eyes anxious. “His name,” he said, going to Brad. “Lad, give me his name. I think he may have found a buyer.”

“He’s stayin’ at the Gooseneck Inn on Third Street,” Brad said, placing his hat on his head as Earl took him by an elbow and began pulling him toward the door. “Should I go and fetch him for you, sir? I could have him back here to talk business with you quicker than you can wink your eye.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Earl said, ushering Brad on outside. “I’ll tend to it myself. Thanks, lad. Thanks a million.”

“My pleasure,” Brad said, tipping his hat and going to his horse.

Earl went to the hat rack and got his top hat, and gathered his white gloves from a table in the foyer. Then he turned and met Marilyn’s approach. He embraced her. “I shouldn’t be long,” he tried to reassure her. “And when I return, by damn, Elizabeth will be with me.”

Marilyn gazed up at him. “What about Strong Heart?” she asked softly. “You know how Elizabeth feels about him.”

“Let Strong Heart take care of himself,” Earl muttered, still resenting how the Suquamish had turned his offer down. He could not help but feel that if that deal had gone through, things would somehow be different.

Deep inside himself, where he weighed matters to find answers to whatever happened to him, he knew that somehow the fire had not started from a faulty flue.

A fire that fierce, one that had spread and burned that quickly, had surely been set.

But there was no proof, and his life was now changed because of it. He had to make the best of what he had left—and a big part of that was Elizabeth.

Marilyn watched Earl as he rushed out the door. Maysie came to her and slipped an arm around her waist, and they listened to Earl riding away on his horse.

Then Marilyn broke away from Maysie. Numbly, she closed the door and went back to the parlor and sat down, staring into space, feeling nothing but dread and impending doom.

* * *

Elizabeth shoved her breakfast tray aside, her appetite gone as she surveyed her surroundings. The cells were overcrowded with prisoners—men and women.

Although this was a new jail, smelling of fresh wood and plaster, it could not take away the feeling of terror that gripped her at the thought of what lay ahead. She had heard the sheriff and deputy laughing and talking about hangings—hers and Strong Heart’s.

Yet she knew that they did not have the power to sentence anyone. A judge would be coming from a neighboring city to make that decision.

Hers and Strong Heart’s futures were in the hands of that judge. There may never be a marriage. There may never be children. There may never be a Chief Strong Heart.

Elizabeth’s gaze shifted, and her heart ached when she saw Strong Heart sitting cross-legged on the floor of his cell across the way from hers. His hands rested on his knees, his eyes unwavering as he stared straight ahead. She had heard him chanting quietly only moments ago, and realized that he had been trying to reach his Great Spirit. Just as she had been trying to reach her own God with soft prayers to be set free from this place of degradation.

A commotion in the outer office took Elizabeth’s breath away as she recognized her father’s voice. Then there was only a hushed murmur of conversation between the sheriff and her father.

She waited eagerly. Soon they were coming toward her, a key in the sheriff’s hand.

Elizabeth’s eyes met her father’s, seeing a twinkling in them and a smile that told her that somehow he had managed to get her free.

She could not believe it, even when the door creaked open and the sheriff gestured for her to step outside the cell.

“Elizabeth,” Earl said, drawing her quickly into his arms, hugging her tightly. “I’ve come to take you home. Baby, I’ve come to take you home.”

At this moment, Elizabeth cast aside all resentment toward her father. The fact that he had managed to get her free was all that mattered.

Then she blanched and looked over at Strong Heart, who was now standing in his cell, his hands gripping the bars. As their eyes locked, she felt torn with grief, knowing that whatever bargain her father struck, it did not include her beloved Suquamish brave.

“I can’t,” she said, moving quickly back inside the cell. She even closed the door. “If Strong Heart isn’t going to be released, I shall not leave.”

Earl frowned. He yanked the door open and placed a hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “You’re not going to stay here another minute,” he said, his voice flat. “Elizabeth, damn it, let’s get out of here while the getting is good.” He leaned close to her ear. “I paid the sheriff under the table. If anyone figures it out, we’ll both be locked up. Come on. We’ll see to Strong Heart’s release later.”

Elizabeth’s eyes wavered as she gazed with longing at Strong Heart. But the thought came to her that there might be some benefit in her not being in jail. Strong Heart could be better served if she was free. Even though her father had said that he would see to Strong Heart’s release later, she knew enough about the way things were between the Indians and the whites to realize that no matter how much her father paid, Strong Heart would not be set free without a trial.