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—THOMAS MOORE
Dressed in a soft buckskin dress, and having joined Strong Heart’s parents for breakfast the next day, Elizabeth sat beside Strong Heart in Chief Moon Elk’s longhouse sipping deer-bone soup from a wooden bowl. She watched Strong Heart and Chief Moon Elk, who were also eating breakfast. Pretty Nose was close to the fire, already preparing frybread for lunch.
“You say that Four Winds is a renegade?” Chief Moon Elk said, pushing his empty bowl aside. “My son, did I not tell you that his blood is bad? Much more pointed to his guilt than to his innocence.”
“Ah-hah, yes, sad though it makes me to say it, I now realize that, in part, you were right about Four Winds,” Strong Heart said, his face solemn.
“Four Winds is small in his shame,” Chief Moon Elk said, his eyes angry. He sat back against a willow backrest. “He is a man who is hard to know, for his blood is quick to turn bad. Why does he carry such a bad heart for us, my son?”
Strong Heart placed his spoon into his empty bowl. He gazed intently at his father. “Father, one thing that I still see as a truth is that Four Winds had nothing to do with the raid on our people,” he said. “His heart is good toward our people. It can never be any other way.”
Strong Heart gave Elizabeth an uneasy glance, still having not told her all that he knew about her father and his possible role in the raid. Each time, just as he would start to tell her, she would either hug him, or give him a sweet look that always held such tenderness for him.
He had not wanted to tell her anything that might cause her pain, or that might cause a strain between them.
She was home now, where she belonged—with him, and his people. She would soon fo
rget her uncaring father.
And so would Strong Heart, for there was no actual proof that her father had had anything to do with the raid.
Pity the man, though, should Strong Heart ever learn the opposite. Strong Heart would stop at nothing less than squeezing the life from him with his bare hands....
Before Chief Moon Elk responded to Strong Heart, a commotion outside the longhouse drew his eyes to the door. He then looked over at Strong Heart. “My leg still pains me too much to go and see what is causing the stir among our people,” he said. “My son, go and see who it is.”
Elizabeth rose to her feet and went to the door with Strong Heart. As he opened the door, she stopped. “My father,” she said, as she watched Earl approach on his horse, with many Suquamish braves walking on either side of him. Their rifles were aimed at Earl.
Her anxiety was not caused as much by the sight of the weapons aimed at her father, but by the danger of him finding her there. Her presence would prove Strong Heart’s guilt in helping her escape from the prison.
She would not allow any harm to come to him, even if she had to sacrifice telling her rather that she was alive and well.
“Strong Heart, I must hide,” she said, stepping back from the door. “That’s my father. He must not be allowed to see me.” She looked frantically around her. “Strong Heart, where can I hide? Where?”
Strong Heart was stunned to realize that the man approaching was her father. That he had the nerve to come to the village so soon after the raid was astounding.
Yet was that perhaps a part of his plan from the beginning? To come back to a weakened people who might then be willing to do anything to help put their lives back together again?
And then there was Elizabeth. Ah-hah, he knew, also, that it was best that her father did not see her there.
But now she might find out the ugly truth about her father, for Strong Heart was not going to spare questions once the man was sitting in council with him and Chief Moon Elk.
Strong Heart grabbed Elizabeth by the arm and quickly ushered her away from the door. Chief Moon Elk and Pretty Nose were watching with keen puzzlement in their eyes. He took Elizabeth behind a skin curtain that hung to the floor. Behind it were hidden the treasures of his father and mother in pits under wooden platforms.
“You stay here until he is gone,” Strong Heart said, his eyes on hers. “My la-daila, soon you will hear things spoken to your father that may confuse or even hurt you. But these things must be said to him. Strong Heart needs answers about many things. I believe it is your father who can give these answers to me.”
“Answers about what?” Elizabeth said, her pulse racing. “I . . . I . . . explained about the fishery. What else is there, Strong Heart? Tell me. I have the right to know.”
“Ah-hah, and so you do,” Strong Heart said, smoothing a lock of hair back from her brow. “And I should have told you sooner, rather than have you hear it now, in this way.”
“Then tell me,” Elizabeth said, tensing when she saw the stubborn set to his jaw. “Please, tell me.”
“There is not time,” Strong Heart said. Then he turned and left her with her eyes wide in confusion.
Strong Heart stepped outside just as Earl was dismounting. Strong Heart folded his arms across his chest, torn by feelings about this man that soon would be his father-in-law. He hoped with all of his heart that he was wrong about this man.
But so much pointed to Elizabeth’s father’s guilt, Strong Heart could not help but find himself already hating him.
Earl turned slowly around and faced Strong Heart, wondering who he was, and why he was standing at the door of the chief’s house, as if guarding it. He swallowed hard, then extended a hand to Strong Heart.
