AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Mariah gasped and her eyes widened. “You would do that for me? You would take me in? You . . . you would even give me dresses to wear?” she said, her cheeks coloring with an anxious blush. “I can’t expect you to be that generous, Abigail. How would I ever repay you?”
“My dear, I must confess I am guilty of being a trifle selfish in my offerings to you,” Abigail said, smiling mischievously at Mariah. “You see, I am always searching for excuses to give parties or hold a grand ball. The fort is a most boring place for married women of breeding! My dear, your entrance into our lives is the perfect reason to give a ball. It will be in your honor. I will show you off to all of the other women at the fort!”
Mariah was stunned at first by this confession, then recognized that Abigail was teasing, and she laughed softly along with her. “But, Abigail, I shall shock all of the women with the length of my hair,” she teased back, finding this sudden lighthearted mood so refreshing.
Then again she was catapulted back to the real world when she thought of her father. “My father,” she said warily. “He will find out. He will come for me.”
“Don’t fret, dear,” Abigail said, firming her chin. “My Josiah will handle him.”
“Did I hear my name being spoken in a conversation between two lovely ladies?” Colonel Snelling said, making a grand entrance into the parlor.
Mariah turned with a start, then smiled at Colonel Snelling as he walked stoutly into the room, resplendent in his blue uniform. His red hair was thinning, and she had never thought him particularly handsome, but his winning manner made him friends wherever he went.
His men all looked up to him, appreciating the fact that Colonel Snelling cared little for drills or busy work. Instead, he put them to work on his construction projects when times were quiet. Rather than polishing boots, they built roads; instead of shining buttons they laid stones for new walls.
Colonel Snelling promptly recognized Mariah, and his steps faltered; his smile faded when he caught sight of her hair. He went and stood tall over her, running his long lean fingers through her hair.
“And whom do we blame for this?” he grumbled, his brow furrowed with a deep frown. “But of course, I need not ask. It was your father. He went this far to make you take on the appearance of a man. Damn him. He ought to be horsewhipped!”
“Darling, Mariah has left home,” Abigail said, going to Josiah’s side, locking an arm through his. “I have asked her to stay with us. Of course I knew that you would approve.”
Josiah smiled again, and placed a hand to Mariah’s cheek. “Our home is yours for as long as you like,” he said softly.
So grateful was she, tears pooled in Mariah’s eyes. Yet she did not know how long even this happiness would last.
Always there were truths that would condemn her!
Always!
“Thank you so much,” she murmured. “Thank you both.”
Josiah slipped a silver snuffbox from his inner jacket pocket and opened it. Pinching out a quantity of the brown powder, he dusted it onto the back of his left wrist and drew it up with two quick sniffs.
“Let Abigail take you to the guest room,” he said, slipping the snuffbox back into his pocket. “We’ll talk more at length later.”
Abigail took Mariah by the hand and ushered her from the room, down a corridor, up a short flight of stairs, down another corridor, and into a room that took her breath away at first sight. She stepped delicately across the threshold, eyeing the great Tudor oak four-poster bed hung with crewelwork curtains; bamboo-backed chairs that had surely come from China; and hand-painted Chinese wallpaper which lent a gay touch to the room. The lone window was draped with a sheer lacy curtain, drawing Mariah to it, to touch its softness.
“It is all so beautiful,” she said, sighing deeply, yet her thoughts were quickly drawn elsewhere when she looked through the window upon a half-moon shining in the sky, encircled by a great hazy ring. She could not help but wonder if Echohawk was looking at the same moon, perhaps thinking of her.
She looked away from the moon, and then at the sky, which was unsullied by a single cloud. She gazed at the stars, wishing upon them that Echohawk could find it in his heart to recall their moments together. The sincerity of her feelings for him, if he would only let himself believe it, would prove that she was not capable of anything but love for him and for his people.
She felt an arm circle her waist and was drawn back to the present. “My dear, in time you will forget all the ugliness of your past,” Abigail assured her. “I will see to it, Mariah. I promise.”
Sobbing, Mariah turned to Abigail and eased into her embrace, allowing herself to pretend, at least at that moment, that it was her mother who was comforting her.
Chapter 17
Who is the happy warrior?
Who is he that every man in arms should wish to be?
—Wordsworth
Two Weeks Later
The air was crisp and cool. The autumn leaves had fluttered from the trees to the ground, making a bed of color beneath them. Kneeling beside his father’s grave, Echohawk bowed his face into his hands. “Gee-bah-bah,” he whispered mournfully. “It has now been fourteen Chippewa sunrises and still I have not been able to place No-din from my mind. How can I continue to love a woman who is my enemy? How?”
Except for the wind whispering in the soft breeze of late afternoon, there was a keen silence.
