Song of the Raven (Daughters of the Prairie 3)
Chapter Twelve
“Tehila, I present my father, Standing Elk.”
Ella’s knees buckled, but she forced herself to remain steady. The Indian, a handsome older version of Raven, nodded to her.
“My son speaks highly of you. It is an honor to welcome you to our village. May I present my father, Black Wolf, the chief of our band.”
Black Wolf’s white hair hung in two long braids. His black eyes were sunken and wrinkled, but kind. “Welcome, wife of Silver Raven,” he said.
“Th-Thank you, sir.” Ella’s voice wavered as she held out her hand.
“Damn it!” A voice came from outside the tent.
A familiar voice. A voice Ella had never before heard use a profane word. “You heathen redskins let me see my daughter or I swear I’ll send your souls straight to hell.”
The flap of buffalo hide swished open.
“Papa!” Ella gasped.
Raven gripped her shoulders and moved in front of her, shielding her body with his.
But it was Standing Elk who spoke. “Robert Morgan. After all these years, we meet again.”
Her father’s amber eyes widened and he dropped the rifle he held to his side. “You’ve got to be kiddin’ me.”
“You do not remember our first meeting?” Standing Elk walked toward him stealthily, shielding Raven and Ella, and extended his hand.
Did Indians shake hands? Ella wasn’t sure. Her father didn’t take Standing Elk’s hand, though, and as Ella watched their interlude, she realized Raven’s father wasn’t asking for a handshake. It was a signal of friendship. Of peace.
Would her father accept? Questions jumbled in Ella’s mind. How did Standing Elk know her father? Her mother had said Indians had been kind to them once. She shivered against Raven’s hard body, gulped, and hoped with all her heart that Standing Elk and his band had been those Indians. If not…
“Yes”—her father lowered his head, but only slightly—“I remember.”
Standing Elk’s hand dropped to his side. “You are well?”
“As well as I can be. My wife and I want our daughter.”
Her father's gaze burned into her. She held tighter to Raven.
Standing Elk nodded. “I understand.”
Raven stepped forward, but Standing Elk gestured for him to remain still.
“It is not easy when a child leaves your home. But I assure you, my son loves your daughter and will take care of her. He will protect her and provide for her. He is a strong and able warrior.”
“He’s not her kind.”
Standing Elk nodded again. “What is kind, Robert Morgan? His skin is darker. His clothing is different. But the two young people love each other. My grandmother was a white woman and she loved her Indian husband.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand more than you know.”
“He took her. You people just take what you want. It’s not our way.”
“That’s not true!” Ella stormed from behind Raven to face her father’s defeated gaze. “He didn’t take me. I went with him willingly.”
“Quiet, Ella!” Her father’s voice thundered through the thick tension in the tipi.