Savage Abandon Page 7

  When she saw how peacefully he was sleeping and noticed that his breathing was no longer so labored, she sighed with relief. She drew her blanket more snugly around her shoulders and drifted off to sleep again.

  Not far from her, the birdcage sat with its door gaping open, its cover not in its usual place.

  Tiny was awake and had seen Mia checking on her pa. She hadn’t even thought to check on her canary.

  Oh, but didn’t she have a surprise waitin’ for her on the morrow!

  Oh, what a relief it would be not to have that bird squawkin’ and singin’ anymore on the scow as they traveled onward to St. Louis.

  Ah, but wouldn’t it be peaceful!

  He looked toward the closed door of the cabin. Something had awakened him a few minutes ago.

  It was a sound that seemed to be coming from the direction of the river. It had sounded like hushed voices of men.

  But surely he was imagining things. No one was near.

  He shrugged, wiped at his dry mouth with a hand, then settled back in his blankets.

  He fell into a deep, restful sleep, unaware that in the morning his entire world would be turned upside down.

  Chapter Ten

  Then farewell care, and farewell woe,—

  I will no longer pine.

  —Sir John Suckling

  The early morning sunshine crept into the window, dappling its soft light onto Mia’s face and awakening her.

  Yawning and stretching her arms above her head, she was momentarily disoriented as to where she was. It came to her suddenly when she looked over and saw her father, whose face seemed paler than the last time she had looked at him.

  It frightened her to hear that his breathing was now more shallow than she had ever heard it before. The thought of losing him caused a painful ache in the pit of her stomach.

  As she watched him sleep, she was catapulted back to the day her mother had told Mia that they were heading back to St. Louis, and how this would be the last time they would take one of their yearly treks on the river. Because of Mia’s father’s failing health, their family was going to return to their home and never board a scow again.

  It had been a glorious day beside the river that morning, as they sat near the fire before setting out on the scow toward home.

  Mia had looked forward to staying in one place year-round. She would never forget how broadly she had smiled as her mother told her that they would sell their scow on the St. Louis riverbank.

  That would make everything final. Mia couldn’t have been happier with the decision.

  But her family would keep one mode of river travel in case it was needed…the longboat that trailed along behind the scow each day, which had her name painted on it. Her father just couldn’t part with everything that had to do with his river travels, especially not the boat that he had named after his daughter.

  When they had boarded the scow that day, Mia had felt as though she were floating on clouds instead of water as they headed toward St. Louis. Even her canary had seemed to understand that one day soon it would be home.

  “My sweet Georgina,” Mia whispered to herself.

  She looked quickly over at the cage.

  At that moment she realized that something was not right. Usually at this time of the morning, Georgina could be heard fussing softly behind her cover, for the canary was always anxious for the cloth to be removed so that she could see Mia and the fresh seed and water her mistress gave her each morning.

  Something grabbed Mia’s heart, like a hand squeezing it, when she saw the cover on the cage was not at all the way she had left it.

  And then she noticed that the door was ajar. Mia never left the door ajar!

  She could not get to the cage quickly enough. She brushed aside the blanket and leapt up. When she peered inside the cage, remorse swept through her. Georgina was most definitely not there.

  Tears sprang to her eyes over her loss. Then it came to her like a lightning bolt from the heavens that there was no way Georgina could have opened that door, for Mia always double-checked it before going to bed each night.

  Only after seeing that it was secure would she go to bed, for if anything happened to her bird, a part of her would die.

  Yes, the bird had become especially precious to her since her mother’s death. Georgina had helped lift Mia from the horrible sorrow that came after burying her mother along the banks of the Rush River.

  Having to leave her mother there, oh, so alone, was something that Mia still could hardly bear to think about.

  And now?

  Had she also lost her bird?

  And her father—how long would she have him as a part of her life?

  His health seemed to be worsening by the minute!

  Yes, her world seemed to be tumbling all around her. She felt as if she were on a small island by herself, with no happiness left inside her.

  When she examined the cage, she was certain there was no way that Georgina could have escaped without assistance. Someone had lifted the cover and opened the door for the bird, and it surely had not been done inside the cabin, or Georgina would have found her way to Mia and settled down beside her. The bird loved Mia so much that she was sure Georgina wouldn’t have chosen to fly away.

  Mia looked quickly at the door of the cabin. It was closed!

  That meant someone had opened the door, carried the cage outside, and then sent Georgina to a freedom that might mean her death.

  Georgina had been tiny when Mia’s mother had given her the bird. All the canary knew was the cage, the food and water she found there, and Mia, who gave her these things. Mia meant safety and food and love.

  As long as Mia was there to care for her, Georgina’s world was secure. But now? Oh, Lord, where was Georgina, and who…?

  She looked quickly at Tiny and found him awake and gazing at her with a strange look of triumph.

  “You…!” Mia cried, awakening her father with her outburst of anger. “Tiny! You did this. You carried the cage outside and opened the door. How did you get Georgina from it? I know she wouldn’t fly through that door, for the cage was a safe haven to her!”

  She stomped over to where Tiny was sitting up on his blanket, his eyes squinting into Mia’s with a mischievous glint.

  “How could you do this?” she cried, then slapped him hard on the face.

  Tiny yelped and reached a hand to his face. He glared at Mia. “You little…” he began, but didn’t finish what he’d started to say. He knew better, for her father was now sitting up on his blanket, giving Tiny a cold stare.

  “To hell with you both,” Tiny blurted out. He threw the blanket that he had slept under aside, and still fully clothed, rushed from the cabin.

  Mia stared blankly at the open door, then the cage, and then at her father.

  “I told you, Papa, that he was a horrible man, and now look at what he has done,” she sobbed. “My sweet Georgina. Surely she did not survive the night in the forest.”

  “Darlin’, I’ll buy you another bird when we get back home,” Harry said. He groaned with the effort it took to get to his feet.

  “There could never be a bird like Georgina,” Mia said, hurrying to his assistance when she saw that his knees almost buckled beneath him. “Papa, please lie back down. Rest while I fix us something to eat. You need to eat to keep your strength.”

  Suddenly the air was split with the sound of Tiny’s yells.

  “Did he say that the scow is missing?” her father asked, gripping Mia’s arm as he turned and gazed toward the open door. “Mia, did…I…hear right?”

  “Oh, Papa, you did,” Mia cried. “You did. Please lie down and I’ll go and see about it.”

  “Help me outside,” Harry said, his voice drawn. “Mia, help…me…outside.”

  “Papa, please…” she softly pleaded.

  “Mia, do as you are told,” Harry snapped in a tone that Mia was not used to hearing from her father.

  She was afraid that this latest turn of events m
ight cause him to have another heart attack!

  “Papa, please settle down,” Mia softly encouraged when she turned toward him and saw his face.

  Earlier it had been ashen. Now she saw flushed cheeks and purplish, quivering lips.

  “I’ve got to see for myself,” Harry said, a sudden sob catching in his throat. “That scow. It’s our only way home, Mia. And it’s been…everything to me. I’ll never forget our adventures on it. Your mother, ah, what memories we shared on that scow.”

  “I know, Papa, but please don’t get any more upset than you already are when you see that the scow is gone,” Mia said, gently taking her father by the elbow and ushering him slowly to the door.

  When they both stepped outside and went to the gate of the fort, there was no sign of the scow. They both gasped with horror at the same time.

  “Someone came and took it,” Harry said dispiritedly.

  He leaned on Mia, his full weight almost pulling her down to the ground. “Oh, Lord, Mia, what are we to do?” he asked, his voice full of despair.

  Tiny came to them.

  For the first time since Mia had known him, he seemed sympathetic…and afraid.

  “What are we to do now?” he asked, gazing intently into Harry’s eyes. “We’re stranded. We’re damn stranded.”

  “Tiny, go and stand beside the river. Flag down the first boat you see working its way up or down the river,” Harry said, his voice even weaker than moments earlier.

  He leaned even harder on Mia. “That’s all we can do,” he said, his face flushed. “We have no other recourse except to hope someone comin’ on that river will have mercy on us.”

  “But…” Tiny began. He stopped when Harry glared at him.

  “Go and watch for someone to come by,” Harry ordered flatly. “When you see anyone, Tiny, anyone, flag ’em down. Or else we are here to stay. With the few provisions we have, we won’t last long, and I’m not able to walk farther than this gate.”

  “I guess you know that we are at the mercy of any Indian who might happen along, too,” Tiny said, nervously picking at his whiskers.

  “That’s another reason we should be certain to find someone who will have mercy on us as soon as we can, someone who will offer us a ride on their boat,” Mia said, already turning her father to walk back to the cabin.

  She looked over her shoulder at Tiny. “Tiny, please keep a close watch for a boat…and any signs of Indians,” she said. “For now we’ve no choice but to stay put and hope for the best.”

  “I’m hungry,” Tiny growled.

  “I’ll fix us some breakfast, some oats from what’s left of the supply we took off the boat, but you’ll have to eat it without sugar, for I left that canister on the scow, not thinking someone would steal our boat and everything on it,” Mia said.

  She went on through the gate with her father as Tiny meandered down to the riverbank.

  Cursing, Tiny kicked at the rocks along the shore, then nervously looked over his shoulder into the dark shadows of the forest.

  He knew that they were sitting ducks if any Indians should come along.

  He gazed up at the smoke spiraling from inside the fort’s walls, knowing that Mia had put more wood on the fire so that she could prepare the oats.

  If an Indian got wind of that smoke…

  Suddenly he felt too afraid to stay out there by himself. He sneaked back inside the walls of the fort, but made certain not to let Mia or her father see him. If he heard any noise down by the river, such as a boat might make as it passed, he would hurry out there and flag it down.

  Otherwise, he would protect his own hide. He wouldn’t be a sitting duck like Mia’s mother had been on the scow, downed by an Indian’s deadly arrow!

  Chapter Eleven

  Heart, are you great enough

  For a love that never tires?

  O, heart, are you great

  Enough for love?

  —Alfred, Lord Tennyson

  Wolf Hawk had left his tepee before dawn and had gone from lodge to lodge to awaken his warriors.

  He had slept hardly at all through the night and had decided during those waking hours that he could not truly rest until he found the ones who had caused the deaths of the Bird Clan’s innocent young braves.

  Although his earlier search had led him to a standstill at the river, he would not give up so quickly.

  Traveling on horse back, Wolf Hawk and his warriors set out again through the forest. They would take the entire day to search for the trappers, and if they were not found today, perhaps tomorrow!

  One day he would have his vengeance.

  Somehow, some day, he would come face-to-face with the two white men and he would make them pay for their crimes against the fallen youths.

  It was now just past daybreak.

  The early, soft rays of the sun streamed through the foliage of the trees overhead as Wolf Hawk traveled onward.

  Robins warbled and sang their songs throughout the forest, making everything seem serene and peaceful, but Wolf Hawk was far from serene.

  His insides were tight.

  His need for vengeance was like a hot poker in the pit of his belly, burning, sending him onward through the huge oaks, elms, and the tall spruces that gave off such a wonderful scent.

  Here and there squirrels scampered from limb to limb, startled by the noise of the horses’ hooves.

  Some ignored the commotion, remaining beneath the trees, frantically digging through the dirt and rotting leaves to uncover a nut they had planted there earlier, which they could consume for their breakfast today.

  When Wolf Hawk saw two dark eyes peering through the brush, he recognized them as those of a deer. He saw that he was right when it suddenly leapt out into the open and fled into the darker recesses of the forest.

  Wolf Hawk’s warriors paid no attention to it. They carried their quivers of arrows on their backs, and long bows over their shoulders. All wore knives sheathed at their waists, and all were attired in breechclouts and moccasins, their long black hair fluttering in the wind as they continued to wind their way through the forest. Their eyes took in each and every movement, even the slightest stirring of leaves overhead, but they were not hunting for deer or any other animal.

  Their jaws tight, their chins firm, they were intent on hunting the evil trappers.

  None thought that the trappers could completely elude them. They did not believe that their Earthmaker above would allow such atrocities to go unpunished.

  Suddenly Wolf Hawk caught the scent of smoke in the air. He raised a fist, his silent order for the warriors to stop.

  Wolf Hawk’s eyes scanned the forest ahead of them. Through a break in the trees just up ahead he saw the old abandoned fort. The smoke was spiraling heavenward from somewhere inside the walls of the fort.

  Someone had most certainly taken shelter in the fort, and he hoped that it was the trappers. If so, the killers were doomed.

  They would not slip past his warriors. Even now he was giving them quiet commands where to go and place themselves. His plan was to surround the fort, to stop anyone who might try to leave.

  When all of his men were in place, and he himself stood at the entrance, where the gate stood wide open, Wolf Hawk shouted a warning to those who were inside.

  “You are surrounded!” Wolf Hawk shouted, his hand clutching his rifle, ready to fire should it become necessary. “Show yourselves! Now!”

  He watched and waited, then spotted movement at the door of the cabin.

  His eyes widened when he saw that it was not a man, but a beautiful, slightly built, white woman.

  And she stood alone in the door, making him wonder if those who were with her were too cowardly to come outside with her.

  “Please don’t hurt us,” Mia cried, terrified that she might be experiencing the last moments of her life.

  And she was so afraid for her father, whose body and heart were too weak for confrontations such as this!

  As for Tiny, he was worth
less, a coward. Mia’s father came and stood at her side, but Tiny shrank as far back against the far wall as possible, staying hidden.

  “What do you want of us?” Mia called out to the Indian who seemed in charge. She noted his air of command, his sculpted features and muscled body. “My father and I are innocent of any wrongdoing against you. We are stranded. During the night someone stole our boat…our river scow.”

  She glanced over at her father, who had crept to her side. She saw his paleness and frailty as he stood there now, afraid, his arm quivering as he held it around her waist.

  Mia directed her words again to the Indian who seemed to be in charge. He stood apart and in front of the others, his dark eyes gazing intently at her.

  “My father is ill,” Mia said, swallowing hard. “Please do nothing that will cause him to have another attack.”

  Wolf Hawk was pleased by the woman’s strong will. She spoke courageously to him, whereas most women would cower and shy away from a strange man. He could not help noticing how beautiful and petite she was. Wolf Hawk did not want to make her feel threatened by him and his warriors.

  All he wanted was those who had taken two of his young braves’ lives.

  He stepped forward, but stopped when he saw her father’s eyes grow wide with fear. The old man seemed ready to pass out, and his knees looked as though they were ready to buckle beneath him.

  “I am Chief Wolf Hawk of the Bird Clan of the Winnebago tribe,” he stated. “I come in peace. I only ask for answers from you. If what you say proves your innocence, you will be left alone by us. Tell me first what your name is, and how many are with you besides your father.”

  “My name is Mia…Mia Collins, and this is my father, whose name is Harry,” she murmured.

  She was trying so hard to be courageous, for she had always heard that Indians rewarded courage and bravery.

  “You have not spoken of anyone else—does that mean that you and your father are alone?” Wolf Hawk asked, losing some of his stiffness as he spoke.

  He was beginning to believe that there were no trappers there.

  This young woman did not seem to be someone who spoke lies easily.