Wild Thunder (19 page)

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Authors: Cassie Edwards

BOOK: Wild Thunder
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Chapter 27
I crave the haven that in your dear heart lies
After all toil is done.
—C
HARLES
T
OWNE
 
 
 
Colonel Deshong was awestruck by Hannah and how she had so suddenly assumed the role of spokesperson for the Potawatomis in Strong Wolf's absence while he was imprisoned. He sat behind his desk and looked slowly from Hannah to all of the warriors who stood crowded in his tiny office.
His eyes stopped on Proud Heart, recognizing him as Strong Wolf's best friend. He was not Potawatomis, by birth, yet was there also to defend the rights of his friend.
Her eyes filled with defiance, Hannah glared moments longer down at the colonel, then gestured with a hand toward one of the braves who wore no shirt. “Wind on Wings, please step forward,” she then said, giving him a soft gaze.
Wide-eyed, his shoulders proudly squared, although he still ached from the recent beating, Wind on Wings came and stood at Hannah's right side.
She turned to Bird in Ground. “Bird in Ground, please come and also stand beside me,” she murmured, smiling as he came to her left side.
“Colonel Deshong. I have proof here of the recent beatings done at the hands of whites.” Hannah's eyes locked with the colonel's. “Each of the braves were accosted. One while on the hunt. The other, while innocently getting honey to take home to his family. Both braves were unmercifully beaten and left to die. But being strong-willed, and strong of heart, they survived.”
She turned to Wind on Wings. She ran a hand over the scars on his chest. “He will be scarred for life,” she said, her voice breaking.
Then she ran her hands over Bird in Ground's arms and chest, then turned his back toward the colonel. “He will also be scarred for life, not only physically, but mentally as well,” she added solemnly. “I am certain that he is confused by having done nothing to bring on such a beating. He may never understand, except to know not to trust white people ever again, and to hate most of them with a passion.”
“I see the braves, and I find it unfortunate that some misguided men sought to have some fun at their expense,” Patrick replied, nervously drumming his fingers on the top of his desk. “But I see no connection in them and Strong Wolf's incarceration.”
“Fun?” Hannah inquired, her voice lifting a pitch higher. “You call what those men did to these braves fun? Surely you have chosen the wrong way in which to phrase your feelings.”
“All right,” Colonel Deshong said, sighing heavily. “I didn't mean to say . . .”
“Colonel, too often apologies come when something more must be done concerning the atrocities against the Potawatomis,” Hannah stated, placing her hands on her hips. She swallowed hard. “Do you recall, sir, that only yesterday Strong Wolf brought you more meat for your dinner tables?”
“Yes, and I am grateful,” he admitted awkwardly. “But still . . .”
Hannah interrupted him again. “Do you recall, sir, that while Strong Wolf was on the hunt for your men, some white men came and ambushed them, killing one of his most valiant warriors?”
“Yes, I am aware, but . . .” he mumbled, Hannah again interrupting.
“Sir, since nothing is ever done against those who take advantage of the Potawatomis, and Strong Wolf knew who was responsible at least for the
killing,
he took it upon himself to avenge the life of his loved one,” she continued, her voice shaking with emotion. “While he raided the ranch, he killed no one. He only destroyed a bunkhouse and set some horses free. Now, I ask you,
sir,
had it been
you
who were ambushed by Indians, and your men were slaughtered by them, would
you
just go and burn a lodge and set animals free, or would
you
command your soldiers to go and kill and maim the Indians who were responsible?”
“I . . .” Patrick started to say.
But Hannah still was not ready to let him say his piece. As long as he would tolerate her standing there, in defense of the Potawatomis, she would.
“Sir, did you not also accuse Strong Wolf of killing Claude Odum and setting fire to his cabin?” she inquired, her eyes narrowing when his eyes took on an uneasiness as they wavered.
“Strong Wolf had already burned one building, who was to say whether or not he set the other fire in his frenzied anger over the killing of his warrior?” Patrick protested quickly, before she interrupted him again.
“Haven't you seen the kinship between Claude and Strong Wolf?” Hannah pleaded, her voice softening. “Didn't you know just how much they admired one another?”
“Yes, but when someone gets angry, all reason can slip from their mind,” Colonel Deshong countered, placing his fingertips together before him. “Hannah, now is that all? I've things to do besides listen to your ramblings.”
“Haven't I made any sense at all to you?” Hannah argued, her voice breaking when she felt that she might lose the battle for Strong Wolf's release. “You have been a friend with Strong Wolf since he arrived at the Kansas Territory. How could you not understand him better than this? You know that he is a man of peace. Last night, when he avenged the death of his warrior, he could have wreaked havoc along the countryside. Yet, he chose a more peaceful way to make his point. You should commend him for saving lives, not condemn him for the little thing that he did.”
She turned to Proud Heart. “Proud Heart, please bring the bag forth,” she said, reaching a hand out for the bag.
When he gave it to her, she turned toward Patrick again. She gently placed the buckskin bag on his desk in front of him. “Please look at what's inside the bag.”
“Hannah, I . . .” Colonel Deshong was again interrupted by her.
“Sir, you have arrested Strong Wolf for the death of Claude Odum,” Hannah blurted. “Please see what is inside the bag. After seeing the gifts of friendship from Claude to Strong Wolf, can you honestly say that Strong Wolf could have killed this man?”
Sighing, Patrick slipped a hand inside the bag. First he pulled out the pipe: a peace pipe. Then he pulled out the wampum.
He placed them before him and stared at them, tears filling his eyes as he recalled the very moments these gifts were given to Strong Wolf. He was at Strong Wolf's village with Claude when the Indian agent had presented the gifts to Strong Wolf.
In return, Strong Wolf had given Claude a thick bearskin robe, and then had turned to Patrick with the same sort of skin, except that his was made of perfectly white rabbit pelts.
That day, everyone's friendship had been strengthened. And no, he did not see how things could have changed between Claude and Strong Wolf.
No, in truth, he could not see how Strong Wolf could have set fire to his friend's lodge.
No, he could no longer condemn Strong Wolf for having taken the law into his own hands, by burning the one outbuilding at Jeremiah Bryant's ranch or setting the horses free. The horses had been rounded up. Not one had been lost to Jeremiah except for those who had been killed during the raid on Strong Wolf and his warriors.
Yet Jeremiah would not set aside his anger for Strong Wolf having done what he did to the bunkhouse.
But that didn't mean that Patrick had to keep Strong Wolf locked up like a common, ordinary thief. Everything that Hannah had said now hit him like a cold splash of water in the face. Too many things came to mind: his times with Strong Wolf, their camaraderie, Strong Wolf's utter kindness toward mankind.
“I've been wrong,” he said, placing the articles back inside the bag.
Hannah's heart skipped a beat. She was almost afraid to breathe, fearing that her next breath and heartbeat would turn the colonel back to being stubborn, whereas she
had
heard him just say that he had been wrong!
She gave Proud Heart a flickering smile, then turned eager eyes back to Patrick and waited to see what he might say next. She crossed her fingers behind her, hoping that he would say all of the right things.
“Yes, I've been wrong about a lot of things in my lifetime,” he acknowledged, handing the bag back toward Hannah.
Her fingers trembled as she took it.
“And, by damn, I was wrong to arrest Strong Wolf,” he admitted, moving quickly up from his chair. “The good he has done outweighs the bad.” He gazed at the braves' scars and swallowed hard. “It is with much regret that I couldn't have stopped that from happening to those braves.”
He gazed over at Hannah, apology in his eyes. “But I can't be everywhere all of the time, watching those white men who still see Indians as savages and something to mock and sometimes . . . kill . . .” he stammered. He walked from behind his desk. He stood before Hannah. “Come with me. Let us set Strong Wolf free.”
Tears of joy, of gratitude, splashed into Hannah's eyes. She wanted to fling herself into Patrick's arms, but refrained from doing it. She would never forget that he had made Strong Wolf stay one whole night behind bars. That was a sin in itself.
“Thank you,” she uttered, swallowing hard.
Proud Heart came to her and hugged her, then they followed the colonel from his cabin.
The Potawatomis warriors following behind, they all walked across the sun-drenched courtyard until they reached the guardhouse.
Only Hannah and Proud Heart were allowed inside the guardhouse. And when Hannah saw Strong Wolf behind the bars, clutching them, everything within her felt that deep hurting pain of remorse over him having been treated so badly.
She ran to the bars and twined her fingers through his. “Darling,” she whispered, their eyes touching, as though they were a caress. “I'm so sorry. I wish I had known last night. I . . . would . . . have come
then
.”
Proud Heart stepped up to the cell. “My friend, you are to be released,” he announced, reaching through the bars to grasp a friendly hand onto Strong Wolf's shoulder. “And you have Hannah to thank. Her words have set you free.”
Strong Wolf gazed still into Hannah's eyes. “My woman spoke in my behalf?” he marveled.
“I said what I felt,” Hannah said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I told the
truth
. Patrick listened. But he had forgotten for a while that he was a friend.”
“And so let's get it done,” Patrick said as he stepped up beside Hannah with a thick ring of keys.
Hannah stepped aside and watched Patrick place the key in the lock, her pulse anxiously racing for the moment that Strong Wolf could step from behind those bars. She felt proud and relieved that she had been able to talk sense into the colonel. If she hadn't been able to, some judge could have set down a sentencing of hanging.
Now no judge would be required. Colonel Deshong had become judge and jury the moment he had placed the key into the lock that would release Strong Wolf to freedom.
The door creaked open. Strong Wolf stepped from the cell and grabbed Hannah into his arms. He held her close, his heart hammering like claps of thunder within his chest. “Thank you,” he whispered as he placed his lips against Hannah's ear. “My woman, I will never forget what you did today. Never.”
“Patrick could have ignored me,” Hannah said, stepping softly away from him as he embraced Proud Heart long and hard.
Hannah turned smiling eyes over at Colonel Deshong. “Thank you. I'll be forever grateful.”
Patrick nodded, then went to Strong Wolf and reached out a hand of friendship. “I apologize for having wrongly incarcerated you,” he professed. “Can we place it behind us and move forward into a future of newfound trusts and friendships?”
Strong Wolf's spine stiffened, then he slowly reached his hand out and clasped his fingers around the colonel's hand. “Trust and friendship,” he said, seeing a sudden relief rush into Patrick's eyes.
“From today forth, never again shall I be so quick to judge
any
one,” Patrick declared. “I am truly sorry, Strong Wolf.”
“I have one request,” Strong Wolf said, easing his hand to his side.
“That is?” Patrick asked, forking an eyebrow.
“I would like to have the body of Claude Odum to bury among my people, since he has no family of his own to mourn him,” Strong Wolf said solemnly.
Hannah placed a hand to her lips, touched to her very core over Strong Wolf's continued show of feelings for those he cared for. She gave Patrick an “I told you so” look, then wiped tears from her eyes as Patrick agreed to give up Claude's body to Strong Wolf.
When Strong Wolf stepped outside and saw his warriors waiting for him, he was touched deeply by their show of love. He took the time to embrace each and everyone, lingering longer on the injured braves.
Then he turned and smiled at Hannah as she came and stood with him. He quickly embraced her again. “You have such a big heart,” he said, reveling in the feel of her body against his. “Ah, but I chose well when I chose you to be my wife.”
Through the long night, thoughts of her had made him stay sane, as rats and mice came and went from his cell.
“I may not always be able to be as convincing as I was today.” She laughed softly.
“I do not doubt anything that you set your heart to,” Strong Wolf said, then eased away from her and gazed at the two braves again.
He then questioned Hannah with his eyes.
She saw the questioning, and how he had stared at the braves. “I urged them to come today, to show the colonel the viciousness of their attackers,” she explained. “That caused him to rethink your being incarcerated.”
“Yes, she's quite a smooth talker,” Patrick said, coming to swing an arm around Strong Wolf's shoulder. “And like I said before, if she wasn't already spoken for, I might give you a run for the money.”

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