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“Come and join in the merriment,” a kind voice said to Mariah and Echohawk from among those sitting around the fireplace and tree. “It is a time dearer than any other part of the year, a time to open hearts to one and all alike. Tomorrow is Christmas!”
Mariah questioned Echohawk with her eyes, and when he nodded yes to her, she went with him and sat down on the floor beside the tree, removing their coats, placing them on the floor beside them. They were each given a stout mug filled with a sweet convivial brew of hot hard cider made of crabapples and spices.
A tall lean man stood among those enjoying this peaceful moment, and raised his potion in a spirited toast. “Waes hael,” he cheered in an Anglo-Saxon tongue. “Be thou hale!”
They all put their mugs to their lips and drank, Mariah slipping a hand over to Echohawk, taking hold of his hand, needing it for reassurance. She could not quit thinking about Colonel Snelling. He had been disgraced! He had always been a proud, kind man. Now his reputation was a ruin of what it had once been.
Echohawk set his mug aside and placed a finger to Mariah’s chin. “You still worry about Josiah?” he said softly.
“Ay-uh,” she whispered back. “How can I stop? I had so counted on today—seeing him again.”
“My people lost an ally when he left the land of lakes,” Echohawk said solemnly. “But always remember the good that he did. Keep that thought, and you will not be as disappointed in the man you now know is your father.”
Mariah gazed raptly up at him, always in awe of how wise he was. He seemed to be able to reason things out so that one could see what was unpleasant in a different light. And he was right about her father. She should not condemn him for his faults, because his kindnesses outweighed his faults ten to one.
“Thank you for reminding me,” she murmured.
Then her eyes were drawn quickly away from Echohawk, when across Echohawk’s shoulder, behind him, in the dark shadows of the room, stood someone she would never forget. Blackie! The gambler from the riverboat!
She turned her eyes back to Echohawk and yanked on his hand, urging him up from the floor. She did not want him to see the gambler. She wanted their night in the hotel to be one of sheer pleasure. Even though she would wonder the night through what Blackie had on his mind, at least Echohawk would not be bothered with the threat.
“You are ready to leave?” Echohawk asked, leaning down to retrieve their coats.
“I am bone-weary,” Mariah said, making sure that Echohawk did not turn and make eye contact with Blackie, glad that Blackie was standing in the darker shadows of the room.
“Then you will have your rest,” Echohawk said, ushering her up the stairs to their room.
Once inside, the door closed and bolt-locked, both of them soon forgot that anyone had spoken of being weary. They quickly undressed and found incomparable pleasure in lying on the feather bed, making long, enduring love filled with promises.
Chapter 27
Contentment, rosy, dimpled maid,
Thou brightest daughter of the sky.
—Lady Manners
Several Days Later: New Year’s Eve
On the return trip to Fort Snelling, Mariah stood beside Echohawk on the main dec
k of the riverboat, keeping watch on the clouds building overhead. The weather had become threatening again; the sun, low in the west, was gradually effaced in a gloom of thickening clouds. A rough wind had just risen, and there was a spitting of snow from the sky.
“We should be arriving at Fort Snelling soon,” Mariah said, watching the activity of the river, fearing it. It was always tearing away at the banks, an aggressive, implacable monster, it seemed.
Yet she knew that there were some positive benefits in the raw energy of the river. As the water washed off land on one side, a sandbar would start opposite, and soon willows would begin to grow, at length building up so that it could be cleared and cultivated. The stream progressed by many loops, so that the valley was full of abandoned channels.
Captain Johns stepped up to the rail. “Since we will be arriving at Fort Snelling before midnight, our crew are celebrating the new year now,” he said, puffing on a fat cigar. “Join us in my cabin. Share a glass of wine with us.” He nervously cleared his throat. “I regret what happened on the other voyage. Let me make up for your inconvenience.” He paused, clasping his hands behind him as he gazed intensely into Echohawk’s dark eyes. “I understand about prejudices. My grandmother was a full-blooded Cherokee. My mother had many of her mother’s features. She was shunned by many because of that.” He eased his hand onto Echohawk’s shoulder. “Chief Echohawk, it is my sincere pleasure to have met you.”
“I welcome you as my friend,” Echohawk said, placing a fist over his heart. “My heart welcomes you.”
Mariah was moved almost to tears by what she was witnessing, Echohawk so noble, so handsome as he accepted the captain’s friendship. She almost melted into Echohawk as he swung away from the captain and placed an arm around her waist, ushering her to the captain’s master cabin.
Shedding her coat, Mariah smiled at each crew member as they passed by her, introducing themselves to her and then to Echohawk, creating a relaxed atmosphere that turned into a time of laughter and camaraderie. Mariah accepted a tall-stemmed glass of wine and looked over at Echohawk as he refused the one offered to him.
“I do not put firewater in my body,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. He gazed down at Mariah and started to tell her that it was not wise for her to drink the firewater either, that he had seen it discolor too many red men’s logic.
But he quickly reconsidered. He had promised Mariah freedom of choice. The firewater was no different from anything else. He did not want to interfere with his woman’s free spirit.
