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But he seemed to be drifting off even as he had spoken, so that even if she took the time to tell him the full truth of Mariah, and how she happened to be there, he would not recall it the next time he awakened.
“Do not worry yourself over who she is,” Nee-kah murmured, leaning close to Echohawk’s ear as his eyes fluttered closed. “Just accept her kindness, Echohawk. She is special, Echohawk. And soon, when you are better, you will see for yourself just how special she is.”
Mariah bit her lower lip, wishing that Nee-kah wouldn’t make over her so much, when, if the truth were known to this sweet Chippewa maiden, Mariah would be hated.
Perhaps even put to death!
“He is asleep again,” Nee-kah whispered. “He no longer feels the cool softness of the cloth. Let me take this time while he sleeps to show you the medicines used to make him better.”
Mariah sat down beside Nee-kah and listened, yet her heart was elsewhere. This close to Echohawk, so that she had been witness again to his handsome face, many things had stirred within Mariah that had felt deliciously strange.
As before, it had been an instant attraction, one that unnerved her.
And it was futile, this attraction to a man who would one day loathe the sight of her. Once he regained his sight and could see who this No-din really was . . . Oh, but how would he react?
Chills rode Mariah’s spine as she envisioned that moment of eye contact, when truths were revealed. She could almost feel his powerful hands on her throat, squeezing the life from inside her!
“No-din?” Nee-kah said, looking questioningly at Mariah. She placed a hand to her brow. “Your brow is cold with perspiration. Do you regret being here? Would you rather leave? Although I do not wish to, I would tell my husband that you would prefer going on to Fort Snelling. Would that make you more comfortable, No-din?”
A quick panic seized Mariah. She couldn’t leave Echohawk now, no matter what the outcome would be in the end.
Hopefully, after he saw her devotion to him, he might be able to forget the ugly past—including her part in the ambush.
“No, I do not wish to go on to Fort Snelling,” she said in a rush of words. “But please be patient with me, Nee-kah. All of this is new to me. I’ve never been in an Indian village before, much less participated in its daily functions. I will be all right. I promise you.” She glanced over her shoulder at Echohawk, a warmth swirling through her so wonderful when her gaze rested on his face, she knew that she would chance anything to be with him.
“Then so be it,” Nee-kah said, nodding. “Now, let me continue teaching you our ways of doctoring our ill, other than that which is done by our medicine men.” She gestured with a hand over an assortment of herbs and roots that she had spread on the floor for Mariah to see. “These are collected from the forest. There are black root, bur-vine root, wild cherry, and dogwood, all dried and ready to use. And also you can make some boneset tea. You boil down walnut bark till it is pitchy. . . .”
Mariah listened eagerly, intrigued anew by the Chippewa beliefs.
* * *
Victor Temple drew his reins tight, urging his black stallion to stop. Groaning, he rubbed his lame leg. “Where is that damn Tanner McCloud?” he growled, looking over at his men, who had followed his lead and stopped. “He seems to have dropped off the face of the earth!”
“I’d begin lookin’ for Mariah elsewhere,” Bart, one of his most devoted trappers, said. “Dammit, Victor, we’ve been everywhere lookin’ for Tanner, when you’re not even sure he’s the one who abducted her.”
Another trapper edged close to Temple. “Did you ever think that it’s just possible that she left on her own?” he said, nervously twisting and untwisting the end of his thick mustache. “That was a foolish thing to do, Victor—makin’ her become a part of the Injun ambush. She cain’t be havin’ much respect for any of us after that, especially you, her pa.”
Victor raised a hand and slapped the trapper across the face, causing an instant hush throughout the cluster of men. “I didn’t ask for your opinion,” he shouted. “So don’t give it to me!”
“Victor, what say we go to Fort Snelling?” Bart suggested, having ignored Victor’s angry outburst against the other trapper. “Let’s just take a look-see. She might be there.”
Victor turned glaring eyes to Bart. “Are you sayin’ you also think she ran away on her own?” he said, his teeth clenched.
“I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ ’cept we can’t rule out anything,” Bart said, his dark eyes daring Victor to lash out at him, ready to fight back. “If you want your daughter back, I’d say we’d best think of every angle. Wouldn’t you agree, Victor?”
Victor’s gaze dropped to the ground. He shook his head wearily, then nodded. “Yup, I guess so,” he said, looking back up at Bart. Then he doubled a fist into the air. “Let’s ride, boys! And if she ain’t there, we’ll be goin’ from Indian village to Indian village to find her.”
Another hush accompanied this order, everyone fearing even the sight of Indians now, after having wreaked havoc on one of their villages—leaving one Indian chief dead, the other one wounded, perhaps dead by now.
Victor flicked his reins and nudged the sides of his horse with his knees, sending it into a hard gallop across the straight stretch of meadow, his insides an upheaval of dread and fear.
Chapter 9
Act well at the moment, and you have performed a
good action to all eternity.
—Lovater
