Page 52 of Wild Embrace


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Now what would he do? she thought despairingly to herself.

Earl stared at Elizabeth a moment longer, then stormed from the prison. He lifted himself into his saddle. He was filled with anguish and doubt over Elizabeth’s part in the Indian’s escape. Her silence was troubling.

But how, he wondered? When would she have met an Indian? It made no sense, no sense at all. Then he recalled how she had somehow managed to get herself involved with that young girl, Maysie.

He now had to believe that she had gone against his orders more than once. She had wandered wherever she pleased when he was not there to stop her.

The thought angered him. Yet, no matter what she had done, no matter how defiant she had become, he would do everything to free his daughter from prison. Only then could he force the answers from her. And this he must do. He hoped that what he would find out would be less awful than it now appeared to be.

He sent his horse into a gallop away from the prison, already devising a plan in his mind as to how Elizabeth might be set free. Morris Murdoch. Morris must have connections—he would surely know who to cut deals with in Seattle to get Elizabeth out of the prison.

“Yes, that’s what I’ll do,” Earl said to himself as he guided his horse through the town. “I’ll ask for Murdoch’s help. I’m going to ask him to use whatever influence he has to get Elizabeth back home with me.”

He gave the prison a look over his right shoulder, then rode onward.

* * *

Elizabeth moved halfheartedly to the bunk in her cell and sat down on its edge, peering at the darkened sky through the window.

Another night.

Another hell.

When would it end? If ever!

Chapter 20

I think and speak of other things,

To keep my mind at rest.

—JOHN CLARE

Discouraged over not finding the raiders after having scoured the countryside looking for them, Strong Heart sat beside a blazing fire in the newly constructed council house. Many braves around him were discussing the matters of their village, especially their plans for the upcoming salmon harvest.

Strong Heart was not only displeased about his unsuccessful search, but also worried about his father. He had not joined the council today. When he had gone to his father’s longhouse early this morning, his mother had greeted Strong Heart at the door and dissuaded him from waking his father. His leg wound had kept the old chief awake most of the night.

Guilt filled Strong Heart. Twice now he had let his father down—the day of the raid Strong Heart had not been there to fight for his people, and now he had not found those responsible for his father’s injury.

He had let his mother down, as well, by not being able to find her father.

At least there was one thing that could bring some sunshine into his heart as he sat listening to the other braves debating. His la-daila. His Elizabeth with the luminous green eyes and hair the color of flame.

Soon she would join him again and then his burden would be lightened. She had a way of making his losses bearable, giving him the strength to forge ahead to the future.

Something one of the braves was saying brought him back to the present.

He listened intently, realizing that while he had been thinking he had missed something important.

“As we have discussed before, again I say that we should forget the salmon harvest this year,” the brave was saying, shocking Strong Heart clear to his core. That any brave would ever think such a thing, much less speak it aloud!

Strong Heart leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees. The same brave quickly explained his reasons.

“I say let us catch the salmon for the white men and take the money they have offered instead of keeping the salmon for ourselves.” The brave looked nervously over at Strong Heart, whose expression was stern and forbidding.

“I . . . I . . . would even accept their offer to work in their fishery,” the brave continued warily. “Why should others have the money, when it could be ours?”

“This that I am hearing, from a brave who has always prided himself on living away from the ways of the white people, basking in the pride of being Su

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