Red Bird's Song (34 page)

Charity came to life. “For God's sake, Mechee. Forgive him."

"You do not understand, Red Bird."

Sparks fired in her green eyes. “I understand you have a father who loves you, sitting by your side. What do you think I'd give to see mine again?"

"Your father did not abandon you."

"He did, by dying in that battle."

"Now you are being foolish."

She cupped his face in her hands and looked him straight in his eyes. “No, I'm not. You are, and I won't have it."

His father followed her with keen interest and not a little bemusement. “What will you do to remedy matters?"

"Tell the truth, if he will not."

Wicomechee rebuked her. “This is not your affair."

Ignoring his resistance, she turned to his father. “Mechee loves you, sir. He said so."

A smile hovered at his lips. “Did he indeed?"

"Yes. Only he won't admit it.” She grasped Wicomechee by the shoulders as Waupee had done and tried to shake him. “Tell the truth, Mechee—"

His father chuckled. “She really is something, this Red Bird of yours."

"Is she not?” Wicomechee pulled her arms away and pinned them to her sides. “Stop. You tire yourself."

"I will not rest until you speak your heart."

She'd trapped him into confession. “It is true,
Notha
. I loved you much."

Tears swam in his father's eyes. “Perhaps you still do?"

"Perhaps."

The Englishman extended his hand.

Slowly, Wicomechee clasped it.

Exerting the power of his muscular frame, his father pulled him close and enfolded both him and Charity in an embrace. When it had lightened, equal moisture blurred Wicomechee's eyes.

"Thank you, sweet Red Bird, for pressing Kitate to this admission."

"You are very welcome, sir.” Her voice quavered.

"I know so little about you. What is your English name?"

"Charity Edmondson. The last name matters not. I'm without any living family."

"Then I will think on the first. It suits you well."

"Why is this?” Wicomechee asked.

"Charity means mercy which she clearly has in abundance."

A strange sensation came over him...another sort of knowing. “Why did you not tell me, Red Bird?"

"You never asked. Does it matter?"

"This is a sign, as is
Notha's
coming.” He scrutinized his father. “For you to see this in her is more reason why I must hear you and request your aid."

Notha
seemed moved, as though he realized what it had cost him to make this admission. “You have all I can give."

Wicomechee kept his voice low. “How am I to escape the soldiers with my wife?"

"Even if I help you slip past them, where will you flee?"

"To the mountains until all the army has left our land."

"That won't be before spring. The Colonel intends to round up captives wintering with Shawnee families in hunting camps. Is Charity strong enough for the journey you propose?"

"Red Bird is weak from injury and ill with my child."

"Eyes of the Wolf says I carry a son,” Charity told him.

Mister Ramsey touched her cheek. “I'm delighted to think of having a grandson, and yet...” Gravity dimmed the anticipation in his face. “You put her at great risk, Kitate. A wintry trek into the mountains may further weaken her."

He wanted to pound the stone. “What am I to do? I will not let the soldiers take her."

His father said calmly, “Return with me. Both of you."

Wicomechee's mouth fell open. “Are you mad? I am not to flee from the English, but go to them?"

"Allow me to explain—"

Wicomechee shook his head. No explanation was possible.

His father gripped his shoulders, making far more of an impression than Charity had. “Do you wish for my fate, Kitate? A son without his mother. Unspeakable grief."

He flinched. “I prefer death to losing Red Bird."

"So did I. But like me you are strong. Death does not come for the wishing."

"Mechee, come what may, give me your word you will care for our son. Never leave this child,” Charity entreated.

Her plea seared him, and anguish welled in his father's eyes. Steeling himself, he said, “Tell me your plan,
Notha
."

"Thank God. The aid I offer doesn't lie in the kind of escape you long for, but I can do much to help you. Journey with me to my estate and remain as long as you need. I can gain any necessary permission from Colonel Bouquet."

Wicomechee couldn't believe his ears. “Do I hear rightly? You would take a warrior to the English?"

"Are you not my blood and half English? I will take you under my protection."

"You can assure this?"

His father's eyes glinted dangerously. “Just let any man dare to threaten my son. He will swiftly come to regret it."

Wicomechee answered with a fleeting smile. “Still, you are a warrior,
Notha
."

"Always. Give us some precious time together, Kitate. We've been robbed of so much. Learn of this other world while your sweet wife grows strong."

Hope warmed Charity's eyes like the sun's bright rays. “You wish for this?” Wicomechee asked her.

"Yes. He offers us refuge. I must still undertake a journey but not such an arduous one—"

"Not nearly,” his father broke in eagerly. “We will go by horseback until the roads improve. At that point I'll hire a coach for Charity. I am a wealthy man, Kitate. She will lack for nothing and have the best of care."

He felt as if he were being sucked down into a black pit. “Yet to leave my people—even for a time.” His voice broke.

"You will learn much and might even discover some aspects of English life to your liking,” his father reasoned.

Pain beyond description engulfed him. “I am not English. Would you make me so?"

Charity grasped his hand. “Don't despair, Mechee. It's only for awhile."

They both waited, eyes pleading, for some concession from him. But Wicomechee's agony remained and he could not speak.

An expression of sad weariness lined his father's face. “Will you allow me to take Charity to preserve her life?"

The request gnawed at Wicomechee like ravenous rats, but he gave a nod.

Charity shuddered in his arms. “Please, sir. I can't go without Mechee."

He patted her shoulder. “It will be all right, Charity. I will care for you like my own daughter, and smuggle you back to him when conditions are safe."

"That will not be for months. I couldn't bear to be without him for so long."

Wicomechee steeled himself as if to the worst torture. “The time will pass.
Notha
will return you to me."

Charity was like a wildly flapping bird. “No. If you do not come your father will bury me after I birth your son."

His resolve crumbled and he crushed her to him. “Do not speak this. How can I go to the English? Ask anything else."

"Don't you see? My life is in your hands just as Eyes of The Wolf said. ‘Tis the test."

Air escaped Wicomechee as though he'd been forcefully struck and he reeled in realization.

"What is she speaking of, Kitate?” his father pressed.

"To keep Red Bird's life, I must be tested. Not by an enemy I can fight, but something I must do."

"Then for God's sake do it, or you'll suffer as I have."

"I see the terms now, Notha.
Nimesoomtha
said I would find them harsh. I must also go with you."

Charity wept against him. “Thank you, Mechee."

"Enough tears, Red Bird. For you, I will do anything."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Twenty-Three

"There is another who needs your aid,
Notha
. One called Waupee."

Wicomechee's words broke through the unreality enveloping Charity. “Oh yes. And my cousin Emma."

"Emma would be the young beauty I glimpsed in the
wickon
of Eyes of the Wolf?” Mister Ramsey asked.

Charity nodded excitedly. “She would."

"Fortunately my escorts haven't seen her yet. I assume Waupee is Kitate's adopted brother? Eyes of the Wolf spoke of this captive."

Wicomechee was earnest. “We also are blood brothers."

"Colin, I mean Waupee, is like a brother to me too,” Charity confided.

"Colin?” Mister Ramsey echoed. “What is his full name?"

She weighed his response as she replied, “Colin Dickson."

"Good Lord. Who would have thought he'd end up here?” Mister Ramsey mused, speaking as much to himself as to them. He rubbed his clean-shaven chin with long fingers, similar to his son's. “Life is indeed strange."

Wicomechee observed his father's every movement. “Do you know of him?"

"I very well may."

"Will you not say?"

"Patience, Kitate. First, I must meet this renegade. Where is Waupee now?"

"With
Nimesoomtha
, or the horses. Unless the soldiers have taken him,” Wicomechee added gravely.

"Not when I was with them. We had better go and see. I suspect this fellow is the sort to kick up quite a fight."

"I also,
Notha
. They cannot take him. The English seek his life."

Hugh Ramsey grasped his son's arm. “No more talk of fighting. We will find some other way."

Charity fervently prayed so. “Can you aid him?"

"If this young man is who I suspect he is, I can be of considerable help."

"Colin's in a great deal of trouble, sir."

Mister Ramsey received this information without surprise. “I'm acquainted with his difficulties, up to a point, anyway."

Wicomechee stared slack-jawed, and Charity wasn't certain of the man's sanity. “How is that possible?"

"You will learn soon enough."

Though normally adept at concealing his emotions, Wicomechee looked as stunned as she felt.

His father leapt down from the stone and beckoned to him. “Don't just sit there gawping, Kitate. Let's go find this wild brother of yours.” He smiled reassuringly and held out his arms to Charity. “Let me help you down, my dear."

She swiftly found herself on her feet. “Thank you, sir."

"Sir sounds too formal. You can hardly call me Hugh, and Mister Ramsey is little better than sir. How about Papa?"

She brightened. “I've needed a father."

"I'd be delighted to stand in.” He pulled her arm through his. “You will allow me to escort your fair wife?"

Wicomechee gave a nod and slipped his musket over his shoulder. He walked behind them as his father strode through the trees with her by his side. The sun shone overhead in a blue sky. The day that had seemed so black was lit with hope.

"Fine weather for late fall,” Mister Ramsey said.

"Yes,” she agreed, but her surroundings held little clarity. She almost expected to wake any moment and find herself back on the trail.

"Your hair is lovely in the light, Charity. So pretty, flowing to your waist."

"Outhowwa didn't think so."

Her escort smiled wryly. “No, he wouldn't."

"Mechee saved me from his anger."

"Unleashed it on you, did he? I'm sorry.” His father reached behind him and pulled Wicomechee up beside them. “I know I left a great deal unfinished and my coming is a great shock. But I'm overjoyed to have found you both and promise to smooth your way, beginning with these soldiers."

Charity counted fifteen men in a clearing outside the village. Some groomed horses, others sat near a campfire playing at cards. One stirred the contents of a pot hung over the flames. Thankfully, she saw no trace of Colin among them.

Wicomechee fingered his musket. “I am used to firing on soldiers. I think I can fell two before they return fire."

"No doubt.” His father pointed at a broad oak. “And if you take cover behind that tree, you could pick off another, maybe more. I've heard of your skills, Kitate. However, your chiefs have requested terms of peace. Firing at these men will not further that aim. You must begin to see the English as something other than your enemy."

"This is difficult. We have warred for years."

"Yet your wife, and father, and brother are all English."

Wicomechee considered, though in a slightly dour way. “I will have thought for your words,
Notha
."

Captain Dawson looked up at their approach and hastened to them. Evidently anxious to make amends, he nodded politely and waited for Hugh Ramsey to speak. “My son and his wife will accompany us to Fort Pitt, Captain. After conferring briefly with Colonel Bouquet, we will continue to my estate."

The young officer glanced at Wicomechee in marked surprise. Likely he expected the warrior would refuse, at the very least. “I'm pleased you have found them so agreeable. When do you wish to proceed, sir?"

"On the morrow. Not too early. This sweet lady is easily wearied and I will not have her overtired."

Captain Dawson's eyes lingered on Charity. “We have nothing pressing us save the weather. The colonel's orders, apart from accompanying you, are to return all captives."

"My son has informed me of several more lodging with his grandfather. I will explain matters to them, but anticipate no resistance in meeting the colonel's demands."

"Again, I am pleased by these tidings.” The captain singled out one man in the assembly. “Chief Outhowwa has relinquished a Rob Buchanan, who tells us few captives remain in this village. Most have departed for the Fort."

So, Rob hadn't given them away. Charity spotted him among the soldiers wearing frontiersman garb, and looking more relaxed than she'd seen him in ages. She waved at him. “Rob!"

He sprang up and hastened to where they stood, his questioning gaze passing between Charity and her companions.

Wicomechee gave a short nod and made gruff introduction “My father, Hugh Ramsey."

Rob gaped at the Englishman.

"
Notha
, this is Rob Buchanan, a man who very much wishes to have my wife."

His father smiled at his bluntness. “As will others, Kitate, but the lady is spoken for,” he said pointedly.

The color heightened Captain Dawson's cheeks and he slanted his gaze away from Charity.