Authors: Cassie Edwards
Alas, how love can trifle
With itself!
—William Shakespeare
Lavinia awakened slowly to faint lamplight and the glow of a fire nearby.
She soon realized how feverish she was. Her whole body felt as though it were on fire. Panic filled her at the thought of
how ill she was.
Her vision was blurry, yet she could make out two Indian men sitting one on each side of where she lay.
As she slowly came out of the haze and was able to see somewhat better, she noticed that one Indian was younger than the other.
Then her heart seemed to skip several beats. She recognized the younger, more handsome Indian.
She had no doubt that he was the one she had seen resting on a limb of the old oak tree.
Wolf Dancer’s heart had pounded inside his chest when he saw Lavinia first struggling to see. Now she was gazing at him intently.
No doubt she was remembering that she had seen him more than once near her home.
Did she also recall…the white panther?
He would not think about that. All he cared about was knowing that she was on the road to recovery. He wanted her to feel
comfortable with her surroundings and the people who were caring for her.
He was glad that he didn’t see fear in her eyes, but instead the same curiosity that had appeared on her face the other times
she had seen him watching her. He wanted her to realize that she was most definitely with friends, and soon she would also
understand that she was with a man who wanted more than friendship from her.
Yes! He wanted her to be his, so that he could protect her from all future harm.
“What…happened…?” Lavinia asked softly, struggling to remember what had brought her to this time and place…to him.
Although she was able to recall that she’d seen him more than once near her home, she could not recall much more. Everything
else seemed to be blocked from her mind.
She suspected her confusion was a result of the fever that was raging inside her body. She had had soaring temperatures before
and knew that they sapped not only her strength but also her memory.
Now that she was so near to the Indian, she was even more awed by him than before. Up close he was much more handsome than
from a distance, and she saw such kindness, such caring, in his eyes.
For some reason, she felt safer now than ever before in her life, even safer than she had felt with Virgil.
Although Virgil had been a kind and wonderful man, he had had many weaknesses.
She felt guilty for having such thoughts and cast them from her mind when the Indian moved closer to her and placed the palm
of his hand gently on her brow, then drew it away.
She was surprised when he began speaking in perfect English to her.
“You have much fever,” Wolf Dancer said gently. “But it should soon be gone. My shaman, who would be called a doctor in your
world, sits on your other side. His name is Shining Soul, and he is the one who will make you well and happy again.”
He paused, then said, “I am called by the name Wolf Dancer. I am chief of the Wind Clan of Seminole. You are now on my people’s
island, which is named Mystic Island. All that you have to know now is that you are with friends.”
“Mystic Island? Who…brought me here?” Lavinia asked, searching his eyes. “Was it not you?” “Yes, it was I,” Wolf Dancer
said. “I found you unconscious in a canoe with your small companion who goes by the name Twila. A snake had dropped down from
a tree overhead and bitten you.”
“I…don’t…remember.” Lavinia said, trying hard to recall the events he spoke of. “I don’t seem to remember anything
about it. Why was I in a canoe with Twila?”
It frustrated her that she could remember so many things past, yet she could not conjure up even a glimmer of memory concerning
a trip in a canoewith Twila. She had never gone canoeing with Twila before, so why would she have…?
Suddenly images came to her in quick flashes, and what she remembered made her wince and want to cry out in despair.
Her daughter! She had left the sanctuary of her bedroom to search for Dorey when her daughter had not returned from canoeing.
She now recalled how dark it had been while she was in the canoe, looking desperately for Dorey. She remembered the anguish
of each stroke of the paddle through the black water. Despite her efforts, she had never seemed to get any closer to Dorey.
“My Dorey,” she suddenly sobbed, tears flooding her eyes. She turned her eyes away from Wolf Dancer. “Oh, Lord, Dorey.”
And then she looked quickly back at Wolf Dancer. “Surely Twila told you why we were on the river after dark,” she blurted
out, trying to see some hopeful sign in the handsome Indian’s eyes as she continued telling him what she remembered about
that night.
But when she had finished telling him all that she recalled, and he still gave no indication that Dorey had been found, she
wanted to curl up and close her eyes and never wake up again.
Seeing her despair and understanding it, because he had suffered such feelings himself, Wolf Dancer wanted to sweep Lavinia
into his arms and hold her close to his heart and comfort her.
But he knew that was not the proper thing to do, especially since they were strangers.
Furthermore, he was an Indian and she was white. Such relationships were forbidden in the white world. If an Indian was known
to desire a white woman, he would be hunted down by whites and destroyed, perhaps even tortured before being slain.
He could not allow himself to reveal his feelings to her. Not yet.
At this moment, the most important thing to do was comfort her about her daughter and convince her that he would find her
and bring her back safely. “This is what I know…” Wolf Dancer said; then he told her all that he’d learned about Dorey;
how she had been abducted, by whom, and how she had disappeared.
“No,” Lavinia cried, tears again flooding her eyes. “My Dorey is out there in the swamp…where…there are so many
dangers?”
“The search for your daughter will resume at the break of dawn,” Wolf Dancer said, still longing to take Lavinia in his arms.
He had to remind himself that this was not the time to do so.
Yet in time she would allow herself to welcome his embrace, for he knew that she had feelings for him.
He knew even before she knew!
Shining Soul brought her a wooden cup of white liquid. “Drink this,” he said. He held it to her lips with one hand, holding
her head up with the other so that she could swallow more easily. “This will ease more than one pain inside you,” he said
reassuringly.
“It will take away your worry, and allow you to sleep.”
Lavinia welcomed anything that could help relieve this gnawing pain of loss, even if it meant drinking something unknown to
her. It was better than being awake and knowing that her daughter was out in the Everglades all alone, perhaps even…
Her eyes drifted slowly closed as Shining Soul handed the half-empty cup to Wolf Dancer, then gently eased Lavinia’s head
back down on the pelts. He reached for a blanket and covered her with it, then sat up again, watching her.
“When she awakens, I hope to have her daughter sitting beside her, waiting to be held in her arms,” Wolf Dancer said. “Thank
you, Shining Soul, for caring for the woman. She doesn’t deserve all of the pain she has been forced to endure these past
days. I hope to alleviate at least some of it by bringing her daughter back to her.”
“If she does not see her daughter again, she herself may not survive, for it seems that the child is her world,” Shining Soul
said thickly.
“She deserves far more than she has been given in this world,” Wolf Dancer said, slowly rising. “I must go now and inform
her friends that she awakened for a short while. I will assure them again that she will be alright.”
After leaving Shining Soul, Wolf Dancer went to Joshua’s hut and spoke his name outside the closed door. Joshua hurried over
and opened it.
He gazed into Wolf Dancer’s eyes, the moon’s glow giving him enough light to see by. “Have you brought me news about Lavinia?”
he asked, his voice drawn with anxiety.
“She awakened,” Wolf Dancer said, seeing how that news lit up Joshua’s dark eyes. “But she is asleep again.”
“But she is gonna be alright?” Joshua prodded as Twila awakened and came to stand beside him. She reached out and took one
of his hands.
“She spoke to me,” Wolf Dancer said. “Then I explained to her about her daughter. I told her that I would be searching for
the child early in the morning. Then she went to sleep.”
He did not tell Joshua and Twila the worst of what had happened, that Lavinia had to be sedated so that she could sleep again.
Sleep was what she needed until better news was brought to her!
“But she is going to be alright?” Twila burst out, searching Wolf Dancer’s eyes as he gazed down at her.
“I assure you, she will be alright,” Wolf Dancer said. He placed a gentle hand on Twila’s shoulder. “I must go now and get
some rest, for the morning hours are not far away.”
“I will go with you when you leave in the morning,” Joshua said. “I want to help search for Dorey.” “I want to go, too,” Twila
added quickly. “She is my best friend. I want to help find her.”
“We’ll see,” Joshua said, smiling down at her.
“Until tomorrow,” Wolf Dancer said, then turned to walk away.
Joshua and Twila called their thanks after him. He gave them a soft smile over his shoulder, then went on his way toward home.
When he passed Shining Soul’s hut, he wanted to go and spend the night there, but he knew that rest would benefit him more
than sitting and gazing at the sleeping woman whom he now knew he loved with all his being.
There are two things to aim at in life;
First, to get what you want;
And after that, to enjoy it!
—Logan Smith
After placing his horse in the stable, Hiram stumbled through the dark until he found the steps to his front porch.
He had drunk from his flask of whiskey all the way home from his poker game. He had already imbibed a great deal while playing,
and when the flask was empty, he found himself too drunk to continue on. He’d slid off his horse, passed out, and awoke who
knew how many hours later.
Now he stumbled on the bottom step, fell, laughed throatily, got up and made it to the second step, then fell again. He was
still drunk.
Dizzy, his legs like rubber, he sat down on the step and lowered his face into his hands, then started and opened his eyes
quickly when he heard the growl of thunder in the distance.
Hating storms, he rose shakily to his feet and stumbled up the steps and inside the house to the foyer.
Teetering, he glanced up the winding staircase,
thinking
it would be quite a feat to tackle in his condition.
But wanting to sleep on a mattress, not a sofa, he grabbed hold of the banister, steadied himself, and began the slow climb.
The wax candles sputtered in the sconces along the staircase wall; the candles had almost burned down.
Still stumbling and now cursing beneath his breath, Hiram continued up the stairs until he finally reached the second-floor
landing.
He suddenly recalled what his plans had been before he loaded up on whiskey and passed out.
He had planned to go to Lavinia’s bedroom, awaken her, then tell her she had been wrong to avoid him for so long. It was time
for her to face up to Virgil’s death and consider taking on another husband…him!
He was so drunk he wasn’t thinking clearly; without stopping to consider how Lavinia would react were he to awaken her almost
at daybreak, Hiram wiped the sweat from his brow, then ran both hands up and down the front of his breeches so the sweat would
be absorbed there. He had seen Lavinia wince when he touched her with his sweaty hands.
Tonight would be different in many ways. He had decided not only to awaken her, but also to have his way with her. Surely
she was as hungry to have a man in her bed as he was for the feel of a woman’s soft flesh against his own.
He had often watched as Lavinia went hand in hand to her bedroom with her husband, closing thedoor and shutting out the world
beyond it, which included Hiram Price.
He had closed his one eye and allowed himself to envision what they were doing behind that closed door.
His brother’s loud groans of pleasure had reached Hiram, making his hunger for Lavinia almost unbearable.
But he had never heard any sounds coming from Lavinia.
He had assumed that her husband had not been man enough to give her the sort of pleasure she wanted.
Perhaps even tonight she had gone to bed with unfulfilled needs.
“I’ll show you what you missed when your husband was alive,” Hiram said beneath his breath, stumbling toward Lavinia’s closed
bedroom door.
The candles along this corridor were also sputtering, the wicks now floating in what was left of what had been tall, stately
candles. Reaching Lavinia’s door, Hiram stopped, attempting to balancing himself while his head began spinning again.
He grabbed for the door frame and held tightly to it to keep from falling. This was the worst time of all to be this drunk,
when he was ready to make a beautiful woman his.
He was becoming sober enough to realize that he’d begun sweating again. He growled as he wiped the wetness from his face,
and then ran his hands desperately up and down the legs of his breeches to dry the sweat that he despised even more than Lavinia
did.
He had to live with it day in and day out, while she had only to look at it when she was with him.
But even knowing her distaste for the sweat, and perhaps even the man who was cursed with it, nothing would dissuade Hiram
from going into her bedroom and letting her know who was boss.
If she didn’t cooperate, by gum, he’d go for his whip.
Surely one look at that whip would make her change her mind. She would recognize that a man’s loving was preferable to a whipping
that might leave scars on her lovely flesh for the rest of her life. He smiled wickedly as he recalled the many scars he had
left on the brown-skinned slaves at the plantation.
And by gum, he planned to add more and more. He’d do whatever it took to show the slaves that he was their master.
His heart began to pound as he placed a hand on the doorknob. Just being this close to Lavinia awakened that part of him that
had been denied a woman’s touch for far too long.
His loins were on fire and ached unmercifully.
He had grown tired of the big-breasted, perfumed bodies of the prostitutes that were housed in every town he frequented.
Cribs.
Yep, they called those houses cribs.
The whores flaunted their “wares” in windows at the front of the cribs, beckoning for men to come and take their pleasure
from them.
None of them compared with Lavinia.
He wanted sweetness when he made love to a woman, and Lavinia was all sweetness!
His sweaty palm slipped on the doorknob, making it difficult to get the door open.
But finally!
The door creaked open!
The room was black inside. The shutters were closed at all of the windows, not allowing any moonlight in to bathe Lavinia’s
body.
But that didn’t matter. He’d feel around and find her.
He’d climb into the bed with her, and should she try to fight him off, he was not too drunk to use his strength to subdue
her.
“Lavinia?” he murmured. He laughed beneath his breath. She would be shocked that he’d ignored her warning never to open her
bedroom door when it was closed.
“Sweet Lavinia, it’s time for you to put an end to your mourning,” Hiram said, weaving as he walked into the room, moving
in the direction of her bed. “Ol’ Hiram is here to make sure you do. I’m gonna give you lovin’, Lavinia. I’ll show you what
a real man is and how your husband lacked the skills of pleasuring a lady. Just you wait and see. Hiram is here for you, Lavinia.
Only you.”
His knees made sudden contact with the side of the bed, throwing him totally off balance. He laughed as he fell onto the bed,
his hands reaching out to stop himself from landing on top of Lavinia.
The strange thing was that he knew he had fallennear where Lavinia should have been sleeping, yet he did not feel her. His
sudden untimely appearance should have awakened and frightened her.
She should be screaming. But the room remained totally silent. He couldn’t even hear Lavinia breathing.
“Lavinia?” Hiram mumbled as he steadied himself. He ran his hands all around him, searching for her.
It suddenly came to him like a bolt of lightning that she wasn’t there. She wasn’t in her bed!
And he hadn’t seen her downstairs.
If she’d been awake and heard his clumsy entrance, she would have scolded him for coming home drunk as a skunk!
The thunder rumbled again, and this time much closer, so close, in fact, that he could glimpse the flash of lightning through
the slats of the shutters.
This tiny bit of light was all it took for Hiram to see that he was right. Lavinia wasn’t there!
Stunned to realize that she wasn’t in her bed at this time of night, Hiram stumbled up and went out to the corridor. He leaned
against the top railing of the staircase and shouted Lavinia’s name.
He shouted loudly enough for her to hear him wherever she might be in the house.
But still there was only silence around him.
“Where are you, Lavinia?” he cried.
He felt a strange emptiness in the pit of his stomach. Had she left him and the plantation to seek a new life elsewhere?
That thought made him want to vomit at first. Then he was overcome by an anger he had rarely felt before, the sort that encompasses
a soul.
He stumbled back into her bedroom, opened the shutters at one of the windows, then raised the sash and thrust his head out.
“Lavinia, where are you?” he bellowed, his voice echoing back at him.
He gazed heavenward, glad at least that the storm had moved off.
Then he shouted Lavinia’s name, over and over again, until his voice was hoarse.
Totally exhausted now, and feeling strangely empty, he stumbled from her room and went to his own, where he fell across his
bed. He soon passed out.
Outside, his voice had traveled to the slaves’ cabins, and they had gathered together in front of their homes.
They all huddled in one large group, trembling at the fury they’d heard in Hiram’s voice.
Fearing the man with every fiber of their being, and knowing that he would take his anger out on the black folk at his plantation,
the slaves debated what they should do.
Even Franklin Owen, the white overseer hired by Hiram, came and stood among them, his hands on his hips as he looked from
one to the other.
“It’s time we show that man a thing or two,” Franklin said, his bright red hair picking up the light of a lantern held by
one of the slaves. “I’ve had enough of Hiram Price. He ain’t nothin’ like his brother Virgil. This man is out for blood if
anyoneso much as looks at him sideways. I feel too threatened to stick around, and my skin ain’t even black like yours. Hiram
is a madman. Didn’t you just hear him shouting like someone gone crazed?”
“He was shoutin’ for Miz Lavinia,” one of the women said. “What has happened to her? Where could she be?”
“I saw her leave in a canoe with Twila,” another woman said. “As far as I know, they still gone. Even Dorey. All that’s left
in that big plantation house is those who work there, and Massa Hiram hisself.”
“Don’t you see?” Franklin said, placing his fists on his hips as he gazed from one slave to another. “Lavinia left because
she was afraid of Hiram. Surely she took both children with her.”
“But where could dey have gone?” asked Caleb, a tall black man. His wife Nada stood beside him, clinging to his arm.
“I don’t know and I’m not stickin’ around to find out,” Franklin said. He lifted his suitcase. “I’m leavin’ now. You all are
welcome to go with me. You know that I came by hired buggy but I’ll be forced to leave on foot. I can’t take the time to arrange
for transportation. You can leave on foot with me. I’ll see that nothin’ bad happens to you as long as you are with me. When
we get separated, you are on your own, but at least you will have escaped Hiram. Those of you who want to go with me, step
forward. Those that don’t, return to your cabins and pay the price when that madman sobers up and sees that some of his slaves
and his overseer are gone. Just remember this. You know as well as I that he kills for the pleasure of doin’ it.”
Caleb looked around the circle of worried men and women. “I ain’t goin’, nor is my wife Nada,” he said stiffly. “I believe
that Massa Hiram will not beat us for the wrongdoings of others.”
“And surely if we stay, our massa will treat us better,” another man said, holding his wife protectively to his side.
“That’s your decision. You’ll have to live with it,” Franklin said. He gestured with a hand. “Come on. Those who want to go
with me, come. We’ll get far down the road before Hiram wakes up and finds us gone.”
Several slaves hurried to follow Franklin as he walked past the huge house and onto the gravel drive that led away from the
plantation. Those who stayed behind scurried back inside their cabins.
Caleb smiled at Nada as they stood in the light of a candle in their cabin. “We’s done right, Mama,” he said. “We’s done right.”
He looked over his shoulder at his two sons, who were staring back at him, their eyes wide with fear. That was when Caleb
doubted the sanity of what he had just done. But he would stay firm and hope for the best.
He prayed to himself that Lavinia would return home. When she was there, Hiram Price at least maintained the appearance of
sanity.