Wild Rapture

She wanted the love of a true father.

Her thoughts went to Abigail. What would she think of this revelation? It was not Mariah’s wish to hurt her feelings, yet Abigail did not seem the sort whose feelings could be injured all that easily. She was a strong breed of woman who had experienced many misfortunes in life while accompanying a husband whose ambitions took him in the way of opportunity and temptations. But of course Mariah would tell Josiah privately and let it be his decision whether or not to break it to his wife.

And then there was William Joseph. Mariah was proud to be able to call him her brother. He was such a dear sweet man, kindhearted through and through. She had even felt a strange sort of bonding with him upon their first acquaintance.

Now she knew why.

And she had to wonder how he would feel!

Evening shadows were beginning to lie long and dark on the snow as Fort Snelling came into view through the break in the trees ahead. Mariah was barraged by assorted emotions as she anticipated the moments ahead with her true father. She had waited a lifetime, it seemed, to tell him her secret.

She looked guardedly at Echohawk. He had not offered much conversation this entire journey, and she understood why. Even though William Joseph had assured them that Echohawk’s name would be cleared, she and Echohawk knew that it was hard for the white community to cast aside suspicions where an Indian was concerned. So many could still insist that Echohawk was guilty in spite of the evidence to the contrary. It was those people that she feared.

Echohawk turned to Mariah. He reached out to her, smoothing the cold flesh of his fingers across her cheeks, rosy with color from the freezing air. “Your face is too cold,” he grumbled. “This journey would have been best delayed again.”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Mariah said, extending a mittened hand, covering his. “I am fine. Just a little bit chilled, but fine. But what of you? You don’t have as much on as I.”

When they had first set out on the journey, she worried about him withstanding the cold, for he said that a chief did not wear hand coverings, nor did he hide beneath a hood. His peripheral vision must not be impeded by anything worn around his face, having to be alert for any unsuspecting traveler on the trail, and his hands must not be encumbered, having to be free to use a weapon quickly should the need arise.

“Since childhood I have learned to endure many things,” Echohawk said, frowning. “Among them the cold months of winter. It is the Chippewa brave who must learn early how to withstand the cold, for it is the brave who must see that food is on the table. The hunt does not end just because the snows come.”

As the wide-open gate of the fort was upon them, Mariah and Echohawk became silent as they rode into the courtyard.

Mariah sighed with relief when she found the courtyard all but deserted, seeing only a few straggling soldiers trudging through the snow, their heads bent to the wind. Only a few looked up and stared at Mariah and Echohawk.

Other than that, only the sentries posted at each side of the gate had taken full notice of them.

But the sentries, knowing Echohawk so well, had waved him and Mariah on without questioning them.

Mariah’s attention was now on the house that sat at the far end of the courtyard. Her heart began to pound at the prospect of knocking on the door, her father perhaps the one to open it. Even though the Snelling household was well staffed, she had noticed in the short time that she had lived there that if Josiah was at home and not busy with his ledgers in the study, he would go to the door instead of the butler.

Riding onward in a slow lope, Mariah looked over at Echohawk, “Soon, Echohawk, things will be cleared up and we can return to a peaceful life with your people,” she said, anxious for that also. Through all of the difficulties these past weeks, they had not yet taken the time for the marriage ceremony. Mariah did not like to feel as though she were living in sin by not being married. She only hoped that as the good Lord looked down from his place in the heavens, he would have seen her recent difficulties and understood.

“I owe so much to Chief Silver Wing,” Echohawk said. “It was with a sad heart that he did not accompany us on this journey of peace. But I saw his reasoning as wise. Our villages should never be left without a chief. Our people need the reassurance a chief?

??s presence affords them.”

“I believe that he again was thinking of your welfare by deciding not to accompany us,” Mariah said softly. “He wanted this moment to be yours alone. It is your vindication sought here, Echohawk. Not so much Silver Wing’s.”

Echohawk nodded. “Ay-uh, that is so,” he said, then grew silent as the shadow of the great Snelling mansion loomed over them.

Together Echohawk and Mariah dismounted and secured their reins to a hitching rail. With an anxious step and heart, Mariah walked beside Echohawk up the stairs to the porch, inhaling a nervous breath before knocking.

She waited with wide eyes for the door to open. When it did, she took a step back, not recognizing the man who answered it. While living with the Snellings, she had become acquainted with all of their servants, and this man’s face was not familiar to her.

There was something unnerving about the man, a cold aloofness to his stance that made a chill ride Mariah’s spine. He was tall and thin, his clothes black except for a stiff white collar that framed a long, narrow face With tight, drawn features—and eyes that appeared empty in their opaque grayness.

“Yes?” the man said, looking suspiciously from Mariah to Echohawk. “What can I do for you?”

“We have come to meet with Colonel Snelling,” Mariah said, firming her chin. “Please tell him that Mariah and Echohawk are here.”

“That would be impossible,” the man said stiffly. “Colonel Snelling no longer resides here. So if you will excuse me, I must see to my other duties.”

Mariah was stunned speechless by the man’s words. She stared up at him for a moment, her lips parted, then placed a hand to the door, stopping him from closing it. “You must be mistaken,” she said, her voice quavering. “This is Colonel and Mrs. Snelling’s house. They must be here.”

“Mariah? Echohawk?”

Mariah and Echohawk turned around in unison when the familiar voice spoke behind them.