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She stopped and gasped as she caught sight of Wolf Hawk beaching a boat with two men in it. Their faces were lined with fear as they gaped back at the staring Winnebago people who were gathering together now on the riverbank.
Mia was startled not only because Wolf Hawk was bringing two white men to the village, but also because he was paddling her family’s longboat, with her very own name painted on both sides.
A sob lodged in her throat and she placed a hand over her mouth to stifle it when she recalled watching her father painting her name in bold white letters on the side of the boat. It had been a happy day in early spring. The sky had been filled with lovely white, fluffy clouds.
She had known that her father had already named the longboat after her, but he had taken forever to finally paint it on the boat. That was the way of her father. He had never done anything promptly, just took his time dawdling about his life, the pipe he loved so much usually clamped between his straight, white teeth.
That was why he had chosen to travel most summers on the river after having worked all winter making boats for other people. While floating idly from place to place on the scow he had no true responsibilities except to keep his family safe, happy, healthy and fed.
Yes, her father had done all of those things for his family, but Mia had lost her desire to travel on the water long before her father had decided to end their journey because of his health.
A thought came to her as she watched Wolf Hawk order the two men from the boat. Could these men be the trappers who had gotten away?
Had he somehow found them? Had they truly been foolish enough to return to the scene of the crime, thinking they could leave unmolested again with the pelts?
It surely was those two men. After all, they were aboard the longboat that had been stolen along with the scow.
They had to be the trappers who had brought heartache into the lives of these Winnebago people and then fled on her family’s scow.
Her jaw tight, her heart pounding, anger flaring in her eyes, she stepped farther from Wolf Hawk’s tepee but did not approach the river. She didn’t want to interfere in what must be done.
If these were truly the two men who were responsible for Little Bull’s and Eagle Bear’s deaths, surely Wolf Hawk would take the trappers to the braves’ mother, so that she would see they had been captured and would be dealt with.
Mia stiffened when Wolf Hawk grabbed each of the men by an arm and walked them toward Mia. Why was he bringing them this way, she wondered.
She hoped the reason she was thinking was not true. Although he had said that he believed her story about the scow having been stolen, and that neither she nor her father had had anything to do with the trappers, it seemed he wanted to confirm her words.
Wolf Hawk stopped a few feet from her, shoving
the trappers even closer. Was he going to ask them if they knew her?
A keen disappointment rushed through her to think that might be true. She had thought that she and Wolf Hawk trusted and loved each other.
But now? She was not all that certain.
Wolf Hawk turned to the two men. He looked from one to the other. “Do you see this young woman?” he demanded. “Ask her her name.”
Mia’s eyebrows rose at that question.
When neither man did as he was told, Wolf Hawk grabbed Clint by the throat. “Ask her,” he said between clenched teeth.
“Ma’am, what…is…your name?” Clint stammered, trying to swallow as Wolf Hawk’s fingers squeezed into his flesh.
“My name is Mia,” she said softly.
“Mia?” Jeb gasped, recalling the name on both sides of the longboat. “The longboat we stole with the scow has the name Mia painted on it. Is that you?”
“The one and only,” Mia said, her eyes flashing angrily into his. “You…men…are truly the cause of my father’s death. You began it all by stealing the scow that he loved.”
“How could that…” Clint began, but Wolf Hawk yanked him around and now walked him and Clint away from Mia.
Mia watched his people separate and make space for him to walk toward Dancing Fire, who stood stiffly just outside her lodge, listening and watching.
When Wolf Hawk finally got there, he gave both men a shove toward her. “This is the mother of the two braves your traps killed,” he said.
The men tried to back away from Dancing Fire, whose accusing eyes were filled with angry tears. Her gaze immediately fixed on the hunting amulet that still hung around Jeb’s neck. She gasped at the horror of seeing a white man, a murderer, wearing what had been so dear to her son Little Bull.
Wolf Hawk yanked it from Jeb’s neck and handed it to Dancing Fire. He watched her fingers close around it. Then he stepped closer to her. “Dancing Fire, these are the two men who set the deadly traps,” he said thickly. “They have today fallen into a trap of their own. They returned for the pelts that were no longer at the old fort. They are the guilty ones. They will now be made to pay for their crimes.”
