Wild Rapture
He released her so suddenly she again fell to the ground.
Devastated by his accusation and tormented by his final good-bye, she watched him mount Blaze and ride away, tears flowing fiercely from her eyes.
And when he was gone from her eyesight, she buried her face in her hands, her crying having turned to low sobs.
She had lost everything.
Everything!
And all because of a father who did not deserve such loyalty as she had afforded him, she thought bitterly to herself.
Slowly regaining her feet, Fort Snelling again her destination, she went to her horse and pulled herself into the saddle. As she urged him to a gallop, a sudden pain gripped her insides. There would be no more moments in Echohawk’s arms, ever again.
* * *
The day had been grueling, Mariah having stopped only to get an occasional drink and to wash from her face the dreaded ash that had condemned her in Echohawk’s eyes.
It was now growing dusk and she thankfully saw Fort Snelling in the distance, relieved to finally be there after her long and arduous ride.
Mariah knew that everyone in the area considered it the finest fort in the Mississippi valley; the white settlers looked upon it as the last outpost of western civilization and the only thing keeping the uneasy peace between the Chippewa and Sioux tribes. The Indians considered its founder, Colonel Snelling, their friend, and so they had never attacked the fort.
Though Mariah’s father disliked Colonel Snelling, he had to admit that the man had done a fine job of designing and building the fort. Unlike many others, it was built of stone, and had a four-story commissary that could hold four years’ worth of food for the three hundred enlisted men and twenty officers who were stationed there.
As Mariah drew closer, she admired the fort once again, as she had in the past. Its stone walls and hexagonal tower made it look more like a European castle than a western fort. Below the walls, a small settlement had grown up where traders and merchants supplied the needs of those traveling up and down the river. The rough-hewn buildings hummed with activity as construction continued while merchants called out greetings to customers and unloaded goods that had recently arrived.
Mariah caught sight of several canoes traveling the river, manned by copper Indian braves, passing silently on their way to the fort. Waves of melancholia swept through her, she missed Echohawk so much. She then looked toward the banks of the river, where many braves were unloading the hides they had brought along to trade.
Not wanting to be swallowed by grief again over her loss of Echohawk, Mariah sent her horse into a faster gallop, soon entering the wide gate that led into the courtyard of the fort. Inside the twelve-foot stone wall was a diamond-shaped parade ground, as well as housing for the officers, two barracks for the enlisted men, a suttler’s store, and a number of other shops. The tall hexagonal tower that defended the fort had rooftop cannons aimed out at the prairie and loopholes through which rifles could be fired. Glancing up at the soldiers patrolling the walls, Mariah understood why the fort’s inhabitants felt safe and secure at all times.
Then she became aware of something else—many eyes following her as she rode on toward Colonel Snelling’s house, which was set at the east end of the parade ground. Mariah held her chin high, ignoring the gaping soldiers on all sides of her. Everyone seemed to be eyeing her, no doubt curious about the Indian attire she wore.
As she had previously done, she silently admired the colonel’s house, thinking that he’d created a gracious home for himself and his family despite its wilderness setting at the edge of the prairie. Like the fort, it was built of stone, and the style was Georgian. It would have been right at home on an English estate.
When she drew rein in front of the house, she had to reach deeply within herself for the courage to go and knock on the door, begging assistance from those who clearly disliked her father for one reason or another. Although they had treated her with much kindness in the past, she feared that when faced with her request for assistance, they would surely see her as a nuisance in their lives.
But they were her only hope, now that she had lost Echohawk’s trust and love.
Dispirited, she slowly dismounted her horse.
Chapter 16
Tell me not in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
—Longfellow
Mariah’s knees trembled as she stood at the massive front door of the Snelling residence, awaiting a response after having knocked. A new fear suddenly grabbed her. What if Colonel Snelling had found out about her father’s raid, and her part in it? What if her father was even now imprisoned at the fort?
She would be walking right into a trap!
Not understanding why she hadn’t thought of this possibility before, Mariah turned and began to leave, thinking that she would have to pick up the pieces of her life elsewhere, but stopped dead in her tracks when the door opened and a voice as soft as a summer breeze spoke behind her.
“Yes? What can I do for you?” Abigail Snelling said, stepping out onto the narrow porch.
Her heart pounding, Mariah turned slowly around and faced Abigail, her eyes wavering, fearing a quick tongue-lashing once Mrs. Snelling recognized her.
She squared her shoulders and straightened her back, awaiting Abigail’s reaction to seeing her there, herself admiring the colonel’s wife, as she had so often in the past.