Page 60 of White Fire


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She did not want to believe that somewhere inside herself there might lie dormant something evil and sinister waiting to surface. If her father could be this horrible, surely she might some day discover that she had inherited some of his traits.

“Lord have mercy,” she whispered to herself, tears flowing down her cheeks in small rivulets.

Chapter 26

Love laughed again, and said,

smiling, “Be not afraid.”

—John Bowyer Buchanan Nichols

Attired in a lovely green silk dress, Flame sat at a table in the dining room of the riverboat Virginia, a heaping breakfast placed before her. Her heart pounded. She had only moments ago been forced on the boat. And as her father had promised. she was not alone. She was being well guarded by two hefty soldier escorts.

Glancing through the windowpane, Flame saw that the boat had not yet started down the river toward St. Louis. She could still see the steep sides of the outer walls of the fort, which faced the river.

She swallowed hard and tears burned at the corners of her eyes to realize that White Fire was being held captive in the dungeon of Fort Snelling, his ankles weighted down by balls and chains.

“Ma’am, it’ll be several hours before you get the chance to eat again,” Lieutenant Green said as he sat down opposite her at the table. “If you want to keep up your strength, I’d suggest you eat.”

She tightened her jaw and glared at the soldier, but the word “strength” stayed in her mind. Yes, she did need to eat to have the strength to carry through her plans. As soon as she could get on topdeck again, she planned to do something more reckless than anything else she had chanced to do in her life. She was going to jump overboard and swim to her freedom. Then she would find a way to get White Fire out of her father’s clutches. And she must do it soon in order to save him.

She did not expect her father to wait too long before carrying out his devious plan of having White Fire shot by a firing squad, though he had to know that he would be questioned about it by the higher authorities.

Knowing her father, though, he would have answers that would clear him of any crime, just as he would surely have ways to clear himself of what White Fire had accused him of.

“Ma’am, I can’t stress enough the importance of you eating your breakfast,” Lieutenant Green said, gently shoving her empty plate closer to her. He then lifted a heavy platter of fried eggs toward her. “I’d suggest you start with these eggs, Reshelle. They’re mighty tasty.”

“Don’t call me that name. My name is Flame. Do you hear? Flame!” she said, angrily grabbing the platter and slamming it down on the table beside her plate. She grimaced when several of the greasy eggs slid off the platter and landed on the snow-white linen tablecloth.

“Sorry, ma’am,” the lieutenant said, staring at the eggs, their broken yellow centers running along the white cloth.

“Don’t sorry me,” Flame said, picking up a fork, plunking a large bite of egg from her plate. “Just leave me alone. I do see the importance in eating.” She smiled slyly at him. “And in keeping my strength.”

His eyebrows forked at her behavior and by the look of mischief in her eyes. Then he shrugged and offered her a platter heavy with stacks of pancakes. “Pancake, ma’am?” he said softly.

Flame eyed the pancakes, then the syrup, then smiled a smug, silent thank-you to the lieutenant. If anything could give her strength, the sweet syrup would be more lasting than eggs, bacon, or the butter-drenched toast.

She grabbed the platter of pancakes, shoved several onto her plate, then poured gobs of thick maple syrup onto them.

“My, but you are hungry,” lieutenant Green said, idly scratching his brow.

“Very,” Flame said, chewing big mouthfuls of the food.

When he offered her sausage and bacon, she nodded and pointed toward her plate.

He placed some of the sausage and bacon on it.

She could tell that he was dumbfounded by how eagerly and by how much she ate. She shoved bite after bite into her mouth. But even though she was making a good display of someone who was starved, food was not what was on her mind.

White Fire! She was so frightened for him.

What if her father placed him before the firing squad even this morning before she had a chance to go and get help for him?

When she felt a jerking sensation in the floorboards of the boat, and heard the boat’s shrill whistle, which she knew came just as it moved off from shore, Flame’s heart skipped a beat.

She looked anxiously at the window and saw that the boat was moving slowly into deeper water. She didn’t have much time. If she waited too long she would have too far to travel to get help for White Fire.

She started to rise from the chair, but a heavy hand on her shoulder reminded her of the other lieutenant who had stayed standing while she and Lieutenant Green ate their breakfast.

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