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But still no response.
It was as though he was in a deep dark tunnel, alone except for—
A rat’s sharp teeth sank into the flesh of one of his bare feet. He let out a bloodcurdling scream, then fainted....
* * *
Excitement welled up inside Mariah as she stood before the mirror. She stared in amazement at her reflection, thinking that by some miracle Abigail had fussed enough with her hair to make it actually look pretty with all of its waves and curls.
Mariah gazed down at the satin gown Abigail had let her choose for the ball. It had transformed her into someone that even she thought might be called beautiful! Pale green, it was trimmed in delicate white lace, its bodice low, revealing a cleavage that made her blush. So captivated was she by the vision in the mirror, she didn’t hear soft footsteps coming up behind her.
“My dear, you are absolutely ravishing,” Abigail said, stepping to Mariah’s side, a picture of loveliness herself in her off-the-shoulder black velveteen dress, her hair coiled at the top of her head with long, lustrous ringlets hanging down at the back. The top curves of her breasts were just barely exposed, and above them lay a sparkling diamond necklace.
Abigail clasped her hands before her. “Mariah, you are going to turn every man’s head at the ball tonight,” she said, sighing dreamily. “And my but aren’t you going to be busy dancing the night away! I will have to assign Josiah to stand guard, just to fight the men off you.”
Mariah paled and turned quickly to Abigail. “Abigail, I don’t know what I was thinking of, getting so dressed up for the ball, or why I was so excited to attend it,” she said, her eyes wide. “I don’t know the first thing about dancing! I . . . I will make an absolute fool of myself should I even attempt to!”
“There will be many anxious to teach you,” Abigail said, gently patting Mariah on the cheek. She glanced toward the window, hearing a commotion outside in the courtyard. Some Indians had already started arriving for the powwow.
She glanced again at Mariah, having succeeded thus far this evening in getting her mind off the gathering of the Indians. In time, Mariah had felt more comfortable in taking Abigail into her confidence, and had spoken of her love for Echohawk, yet had not given her reason for having left him. But it was quite evident to Abigail that Mariah still loved him. It was always in her eyes and voice when even the mention of the Chippewa came into the conversation at the dinner table.
Mariah grew tense, having noticed Abigail’s sudden appr
ehension. Mariah herself was acutely aware of the noise coming from the Indian camps in and around the walls of Fort Snelling. She had been told of the powwow that Colonel Snelling had planned to create a peaceful union between two warring factions of Indians.
Last night she had been unable to sleep while listening to the low thumping of the drums, and the songs and chants of the Indians. She had watched all day for signs of Echohawk—yet had not seen him. She had to wonder if he would eventually come. And if so, would she see him? Would she speak to him?
Unable to stay away, and having only a faint evening light left to study the gathering Indians, Mariah brushed past Abigail and went to the window and slowly eased the sheer curtain aside. Her gaze roamed slowly around below her, watching for a tall, handsome Indian who would be set apart from all of the others by an incongruous pair of spectacles.
Those damn eyeglasses! she fussed to herself. If not for them, she would still be a part of Echohawk’s life!
But she knew that it was foolish to blame eyeglasses, for even without them, he in time would have discovered her deceit.
“He could be among those encamped outside the walls of the fort,” Abigail said, moving to Mariah’s side, slipping an arm around her tiny waist. She gazed down at those who were inside the fort, sitting and smoking around a great outdoor fire. Some were Chippewa. Some were Sioux. She hoped with all her heart that they would feast and fraternize in perfect accord.
“I know,” Mariah said softly. “And I am foolish for even caring.” She caught herself, having come close to telling Abigail truths that would condemn not only herself in the commandant’s wife’s eyes but also her father.
“Yes, it is a bit foolish, my dear,” Abigail said, brushing her fingers across Mariah’s brow, smoothing some red curls into place that had fallen from the rest. “His culture and yours differ so much. You were wise to leave when you did and not allow your feelings to grow stronger. Although it has been done, it is unwise for a white woman to marry into a family of Indians. The life is hard, Mariah. So very hard.”
“I am sure it is,” Mariah said, sighing. Then her heart fluttered wildly in her chest when she caught sight of many more Indians approaching the courtyard, Echohawk in the lead.
“He’s here,” she whispered just loud enough for Abigail to hear. She clasped her hands tightly together before her. “Echohawk has come.” Then her eyes wavered. She was not sure if he even knew she was at Fort Snelling. Of course he had come only for the powwow. By now she would be completely banished from his mind and heart!
“How odd,” Abigail said, gasping. She moved away from Mariah and leaned closer to the window. “Mariah, Echohawk is wearing eyeglasses. I have never seen an Indian wear eyeglasses. And where would he have gotten them? Had he traded for them at the fort, everyone would have been talking about it, for an Indian, no matter how handsome he is, looks rather odd in eyeglasses.”
Guilt spread through Mariah like wildfire, since she knew all of the answers yet was unable to tell Abigail.
Her father!
He alone was responsible for Echohawk’s injured eyesight!
“Yes, it does seem odd,” Mariah said, her voice drawn, taking her eyes off Echohawk just long enough to see others in the courtyard stopping to stare at him.
Then she turned her attention back to him, thinking that nothing could diminish his handsomeness. Everything within her seemed to melt as she watched him ride further into the courtyard, so proud and tall in his saddle. He wore fringed white doeskin breeches and a shirt embellished with colorful beads and porcupine quills, his raven-dark hair held back with a colorfully beaded headband.
There was just enough light left to see his chiseled bronze face with its bold nose and strong chin and night-black eyes behind the absurdly out-of-place eyeglasses.
Tears burned at the corners of Mariah’s eyes as she envisioned him nude, seeing even now in her mind’s eye the expanse of sleekly muscled chest, the wide shoulders tapering to narrow hips, and the hard, flat stomach.
