He wanted to reach out and grab her from the old chief, but he knew that words would work better now than harsh actions.
“She will be released and escorted home if you make promises to Chief Gray Feather that please him,” Gray Feather said in a low rumble of a voice.
“Gray Feather, what you have done tonight could start a war between you and the white eyes,” White Fire said, hoping that Flame would understand that he must, at this moment, ignore her and give his full attention to the chief. “Had I gone to Flame’s father and told him that she had been abducted, there would be an instant war between the Chippewa and the pony soldiers.”
Chief Gray Feather smiled slyly at him. “I knew that you would not go to the white eyes before coming here,” he said, laughing softly. “You do not want warring any more than I. Now do we have a bargain? She is set free if you will stay and be a husband to my daughter, a father to her daughter, and a son to this old chief whose dreams tell him that is the way it must be.”
“Dreams, dreams, dreams!” White Fire said, frustrated, raking his fingers through his long hair. “You depend too much on your dreams.”
“You have said, also, that you know the power of dreams,” Chief Gray Feather said, tightening his hold on Flame as she tried to wriggle free.
“Yes, I have dreamed that which has eventually come to pass, but this dream of yours never shall,” White Fire said, glancing over at Flame, wishing he could reach out and comfort her. But that would come later. He had the chore of first making the old chief see things which he stubbornly wished not to see.
“‘Then you refuse to do as I ask?” Chief Gray Feather asked somberly. “You do nothing tonight to guarantee the freedom of this flame-haired white woman?”
“I cannot do as you ask because my love is for this woman, not your daughter,” White Fire said sadly. “Flame is my choice. We are going to be married. Nothing you say or do will change our feelings for one another. Set her free, Gray Feather. Let her come to me. Let me comfort her and tell her that you meant her no true harm. That you are not the sort of Chippewa leader who would provoke the whites into warring over a woman.”
Out of the corner of his eye, White Fire saw Song Sparrow inching toward her father on the opposite side from where he held Flame hostage. Feeling Song Sparrow’s eyes on him, White Fire turned her way. Their eyes locked and held as she stepped fully to her father’s right side.
“Song Sparrow, you would not want to marry a man whose heart belongs elsewhere,” White Fire said, feeling the pain that was so visible in her wavering eyes.
He hated hurting her, for she was like a sister to him. Surely she understood now that she could never be anything more to him but that. She had heard.
He prayed that she would speak up and say what she knew had to be said to free Flame without any altercations.
“Gee-bah-bah, Father, set her free,” Song Sparrow suddenly said, her eyes still locked with White Fire’s. “I no longer want him. Tonight, for everyone to hear, he has openly declared his love for another woman. I would look foolish in the eyes of our people if you still hold the woman as hostage.” She lowered her eyes. “I perhaps already look too foolish ever to feel good about myself again.”
Flame swallowed hard. She leaned over and gazed at the beautiful Chippewa woman. Although Flame was angry through and through for what had happened here tonight, she could not help but feel a deep sympathy for the woman for whom this had been done. Flame knew how deeply it would hurt her to lose White Fire. She could tell that this Chippewa woman’s hurt was as deep; as devastating.
She felt the hand on her wrist drop away. Her heart throbbed wildly within her chest to know that she was free, to know that the Chippewa chief was no longer a threat to her.
Stifling a sob of relief in the depths of her throat she went to White Fire and flung herself into his arms. “Thank you,” she murmured, clinging to him. “Oh, Lord, White Fire, thank you. I was never as afraid as I was tonight while alone with the Chippewa!”
“I am sorry that it had to happen,” White Fire said, cuddling her close as his gaze moved now to the chief. “You did a wise thing, Gray Feather, by releasing her. But it might be too late. Surely her father is searching for her.”
“He would have no reason to search at my village,” Chief Gray Feather said, sighing heavily. “During my entire reign as chief, and my father’s reign before me, no w
hite captives have been taken. The pony soldiers will look everywhere but here. I imagine, for now, the fault will be laid at the doorstep of the Sioux.”
He took a slow step toward White Fire, then stopped and placed a gentle hand on Flame’s head. “Child, turn and face me,” he said thickly.
He dropped his hand to his side as Flame slowly turned around and gazed at him. “White woman, whose hair is like flames of a fire,” he said softly, “it is my sincere apology for having given you such cause to be afraid tonight.”
“Yes, I was afraid,” flame said, swallowing hard. “But I see now that I was never in any danger. I apologize for showing such fear of you. White Fire has told me nothing but good things about you and your people.”
Gray Feather smiled at White Fire. “Ay-uh, he would have much good to say because only good came to him while he lived among my people,” he said, nodding.
Then Gray Feather’s smile faded. “White Fire, please, you and your woman, stay awhile with my people,” he said, his voice filled with melancholy. “Eat with my people. Spend the night. Let this old chief have a chance to strengthen our ties again after having weakened them tonight by his harsh, foolish action.”
Flame looked over her shoulder at White Fire. They gave each other questioning stares.
Chapter 22
We have walked in Love’s land a little way,
We have learnt his lesson a little while,
And shall we not part at the end of day,