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And she had! She was going to be living a life that she would have never imagined possible, for she would be living it in an Indian village with an Indian husband…Wolf Hawk!
Oh, but she did so badly want to become Wolf Hawk’s woman and have a home of her own.
And now she would have it all.
Her life wouldn’t be anything like she had imagined it would be previously. She was not going to live in a house or in a town.
She was going to be living in a tepee in an Indian village.
“With Wolf Hawk!” she said aloud, smiling at how lucky she was to have been rescued by him, even though at first she had been brought to his village as Wolf Hawk’s captive!
“I am still a captive,” she whispered, smiling at Georgina as she continued to sing. “A captive to the love of a wonderful man!”
She could not believe this was happening to her. It was like stories she had read about knights and beautiful ladies finding one another.
“I have found my true knight,” she whispered, giggling at the comparison of Wolf Hawk to a knight.
The thought of marrying Wolf Hawk was much more romantic and exciting than marrying a knight could ever be. Was not Wolf Hawk a great, powerful chief, the king of the forest?
“Listen to me,” Mia said to Georgina. “I have suddenly gone daft!”
She smiled and again gazed into the flames of the fire.
Something deep inside told her that Talking Bird was alright, which gave her the right to think about frivolous things such as knights.
She just hoped that Wolf Hawk would return soon.
If there were another earthquake, this time it might consume the entire Indian village. As quickly as that her dreams…her hopes…her desires…would be dashed.
Her future with Wolf Hawk would only be an impossible dream.
Chapter Twenty-seven
The winds of heaven mix forever,
With a sweet emotion.
—Shelley
Desperately clutching their rifles, Jeb and Clint walked cautiously through the forest on the mysterious island. They both hoped they would be safe there, at least for awhile until the danger of another earthquake was past.
“How can this island be untouched by the earthquake?” Clint mumbled as he looked cautiously around him, through a hazy sort of mist, then straight ahead again. “I’m afraid it’s some sort of witchcraft voodoo something or other that’s happening here.”
He looked over at Jeb. “Don’tcha feel it, Jeb?” he asked. He hunched his shoulders with fear now as the mist seemed to be slowly enveloping them.
“Stop thinkin’ up trouble,” Jeb grumbled. “Let’s jist find us a place to rest awhile until we’re sure there won’t be another quake. Then we’ll go and get those pelts and hightail it outta here.”
“Everything is calm now, so why not try leaving again?” Clint whined. “Like I said, this here island is spooky as hell. And you know it lays just across the river from that Injun village. That alone makes me shake in my boots. What if one of those Injuns seen us beach the boat on the island? Don’tcha think they might put two and two together and figure out that we’re the ones responsible for the two braves’ deaths?”
“I’m sure they’re as spooked about the quake as we are, so they won’t be comin’ to see what’s happening on this island,” Jeb said. “And let’s not borrow trouble by thinkin’ on Injuns at a time when we need to just be thinkin’ on gettin’ outta here as soon as we feel it’s safe.”
Jeb flinched when he heard a loud whirring above him. He looked quickly up. “Clint!” he cried, stiffening. “Look above you. In the break of the trees where we can see the sky. Didja see that large hawk? Lordie be, it’s the same bird I saw before. Did you hear the noise those wings made?”
Clint looked up at the sky and saw nothing, then gave Jeb a sour glance. “You’re lettin’ your imagination run wild,” he snapped. “Stop borrowing trouble, do you hear?”
“But I seen it, Clint,” Jeb snapped angrily. “And I heard it. How could you not have seen and heard the same thing? You’re right beside me.”
“If you saw such a big bird, where is it now?” Clint demanded. “Look up there. The sky is clear not only of birds, but clouds. I’d say our worries are almost over. Soon we’ll be in the boat on our way back to St. Louie, where we’ll be rich men once we sell those pelts. Lordie be, Jeb. Those are some of the richest, finest pelts we’ve gathered up in years. The fox is prime fur. Them alone will make us set for life.”
