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No one said anything except the colonel. He first gave her a plate of sweet breads, a cup of coffee on a beautiful saucer, then smiled at her as he spoke.
“I have brought Mary Beth to join us today for two reasons,” Colonel Downing said, looking from soldier to soldier. “First let me say that she has agreed to be my wife.”
Mary Beth flinched when she heard the gasps of shock on each side of her.
“The wedding will be as soon as our resident preacher can prepare things,” Colonel Downing said, smiling at Mary Beth. His smile waned when he saw her flushed face and the uneasiness in her eyes. He understood. More than one of his soldiers was giving her angry glares.
He directed his eyes back at his soldiers. “Mary Beth will spend only a few more days here among us. Then she will go to Boston, where she will make her residence at my home until I can join her when I retire, which I plan to do very soon,” he blurted out. “The recent massacres have awakened me to how short life can be. Now that I have found a woman like Mary Beth who has promised to marry me, I want no more of the military life. I’ll be retiring soon. I am anxious to become a mere citizen of Boston, a husband.”
There were fresh gasps, and Mary Beth was the center of attention again.
She, too, was stunned, that the colonel was ready to give up everything for her. She began to wonder if she would be able to get away from him as planned. She knew that he would be out for blood once he discovered the truth behind her promises.
He would hate her with a passion, for she would be responsible for making a fool of him in the eyes of all who knew him. No man liked to be made a fool of, especially by a woman . . . and not just any woman . . . one who loved an Indian.
“But first, men, I want to make one last splash as a colonel,” he went on. He leaned forward in his chair. “Today we finalize our plans against Chief Brave Wolf. He is to be the first of many who will pay for our losses at the Battle of the Little Big Horn. And as I have told you, I have a bone to pick with that particular savage, anyhow. No Injun looks down at Colonel Downing as though he is my superior. Well, he will regret ever putting himself above me. Let us talk now and agree to a plan to erase that savage from the face of the earth . . . and then onward, to others.”
Immediately all attention was averted from Mary Beth. The soldiers got a look of greed in their eyes, like a man gets before winning a hand of poker.
Mary Beth stiffened and eyed the men, one by one, as each offered his suggestions as to how this surprise attack should be carried out.
They all agreed to the final plan, then left the room one by one, leaving Mary Beth and the colonel alone.
“I saw how uncomfortable that talk made you,” Colonel Downing said as he took Mary Beth’s hands and urged her to her feet. “I understand. You’re a woman. No woman wants to hear about death and destruction, not even if it is against the very people who stole her son from her.”
“It does sound so . . . so . . . bloodthirsty,” she managed to say in a soft voice.
“What happened to your husband in that dreadful battle was bloodthirsty,” he growled out. “And your son? Who is to say what the heathens have done to him?”
That made Mary Beth lower her eyes. She hated thinking about what might be happening to her son at the hands of the renegades.
She was reminded again, though, of how fortunate she had been. She had been rescued by a wonderful Crow chief.
She had to find her way back to Brave Wolf’s village and tell him all that she had heard today. She might be saving more than him and his Crow people. The plans were to annihilate all of the Indians within reach of Fort Henry.
“I’m sorry,” the colonel said, gently placing a finger under her chin. He lifted it so that his eyes and Mary Beth’s met. “I som
etimes speak before I think. I did not mean to imply the worst about your son.”
She hoped that he wouldn’t see the hate in her eyes, for at this moment she hated this man worse than Blackjack Tom, who had still not been found. Hearing the plans against Brave Wolf had been even worse than feeling fingers around her throat, tightening, tightening.
Right now it seemed as though a vise was around her heart, doing the same.
“It’s alright,” she lied. “I understand how you feel. It’s just terrible that life has to be this way . . . that there should be any more deaths.”
“Better they than we,” Colonel Downing said, chuckling. “Now let’s get on with talk about a wedding,” he said, smiling broadly. “I believe we’ll have the ceremony before I ride out with my soldiers for the killing.”
She cringed at the thought.
Her mind was desperately planning how she was going to manage to get free of not only this fort, but also this man . . . especially before wedding vows were spoken between them!
Chapter Twenty-one
For thee the wonder-working earth
puts forth sweet flowers.
—Lucretius
