She couldn’t believe this was happening.
These Indians were surely part of an outlaw gang.
Never would she have believed that he, this compassionate, caring man, could be an outlaw!
Strong Heart led his horse away from the streets of Seattle, and they were soon thundering through the dark reaches of the forest.
Suddenly Elizabeth panicked and began struggling to get free, but the more she squirmed, the harder the Indian held her. “Why do you insist in taking me with you?” she cried. “I can’t tell anyone your name. I don’t even know it. And after saving me from harm the other times, why would you harm me now?”
“La-daila, do you make it a habit to search for trouble?” he shouted over the sound of his horse’s hooves. “First I find you choking to death in a house filled with smoke, then almost toppling off a bluff. Then I find you half drowned in Puget Sound. And now I find you in a hellhole of a prison. Why is that, la-daila. Why is that?”
“What is this la-daila you call me?” Elizabeth shouted back. “That isn’t my name! My name is Elizabeth. Elizabeth Easton.”
His chuckle made Elizabeth turn to stare up at him. “What do you find that’s so amusing?” she asked heatedly. Yet, again, his handsomeness nearly stole her breath away. “At least I have no secrets about who I am. You have yet to tell me your name.”
“Secrets?” Strong Heart said, smiling down at her. “My la-daila, which means ‘woman,’ I have no reason now to keep secrets from you. My name? It is Strong Heart. I am Suquamish. My father is Chief Moon Elk.”
“Does your chieftain father know that his son has turned into a renegade who sets hardened criminals free?” Elizabeth taunted. She was now his captive but she decided that she would not cooperate with him one bit!
“Ah-hah, my father knows of my plans to set Four Winds free, and he approves,” Strong Heart said, giving her a stern look. “For you see, Four Winds is innocent of the crime he is accused of.”
Wanting to believe Strong Heart and not wanting to think he was just a criminal lying to her to make his escape from Seattle easier, Elizabeth turned her eyes away in confusion.
But she did know that she was now a captive, something that even Strong Heart could not deny, for it was he who was her captor.
She glanced over at Four Winds, his shoulder-length brown hair flying in the wind as he leaned low over his horse. She had to wonder, what sort of crime had he been accused of? How could she not think that he might be capable of anything?
She looked away, fear freezing her thoughts. Strong Heart could be a liar. Although she had never seen him be cruel, she did not really know him. He could be a renegade.
If so, what would become of her?
He seemed adamant against setting her free. How long would he force this upon her?
What if it was . . . forever?
She had fantasized about being in Strong Heart’s arms. But not under these conditions. The fantasy had lost its sweetness, as she was taken farther into the unbroken wilderness, a mist rising eerily from the floor of the forest.
Chapter 8
My heart has left its dwelling place,
And can return no more.
—JOHN CLARE
Bone tired from the long ride, Elizabeth was relieved when Strong Heart and Four Winds finally stopped for the rest of the night. Embarrassed that she had been forced to go into the bushes to take care of her most private needs, she strolled back to the campsite and ignored Strong Heart as he glanced her way.
Yet she had no choice but to sit down beside him on a blanket spread across a patch of soft moss.
Still not giving him the slightest inkling that she knew he was there, sitting so close to her, Elizabeth sat stiffly against a big, downed sycamore tree which was half buried in the ground. Her eyes feasted on fish skewered on sticks over the hot coals of the fire that Strong Heart had built. She had watched in awe as he started a fire without matches. He had used a flint and a stone to strike with and a spongy piece of dry wood. She had sat, shivering from the damp chill of night, as he had struck the flint against the rock until a spark flew out igniting the wood.
Then Four Winds fashioned a spear from a tree limb. His fisherman skills honed as a child became quickly evident after he had smilingly brought a string of fish to the campsite for their supper.
The aroma wafting from the fish cooking slowly over the fire caused Elizabeth’s stomach to emit a low, lazy growl.
This had drawn both silent Indians’ attentions to her. Embarrassed, she turned her eyes away and tried to focus her thoughts elsewhere—especially away from Strong Heart and how he sat so close to her, so close that if they should turn to face each other, their breaths would mingle.
But it was hard not to think about him. And although she was angry at him for having taken her captive, she could not deny that the excitement of the adventure of being with him was giving her strange, glorious feelings that until tonight she had never experienced.