Her Cherokee Groom

Grumblings grew to shouts and several men shook clenched fists and brandished weapons.

“Then we will hear your testimony when the time comes,” Ridge said. Unwavering, he faced the gathering and raised one hand as if taking an oath. “All of you. Go. I will vouch for the carrying out of justice.”

Slowly, begrudgingly, the venerable man’s orders were heeded. As the room began to clear, some onlookers were still muttering but the Indian delegation stood united, shoulder to shoulder.

Charles didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until the door slammed behind the last accuser.

“All right,” Ridge said. “I want to hear the whole story. From the beginning.”

When Charles was through, the older man was shaking his head. “We must go and speak with the girl.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“Yes.” The old leader was adamant. “Is this woman truthful? Can she be trusted?”

Sighing, Charles nodded. “Yes. But if Eaton doesn’t already know she was with me, asking questions could ruin her life.”

“That is her problem, not ours. Those soldiers will be back. As soon as we have spoken with her, we will leave Washington.”

“Before we’ve been granted an audience with President Jackson?”

“Eaton and Coffee say they speak for him. That will have to do. Our presence here is no longer wise.”

“I am sorry,” Charles said. “I truly did nothing wrong. The man was alive when I left him by the river. Here. See? I even took his knife.”

Withdrawing the blade from his pocket he laid it across his palm and held it out.

It wasn’t until then that he was surrounded by enough ambient light to notice the rusty color of dried blood on part of the blade.

Chapter Four (#u836accec-f7f6-5d09-8f9c-b2b1b49f9dd3)

Annabelle took as long as she dared to dress and prepare to leave the house. Part of her mind was spinning while another part felt numb. There had to be some way out of this dilemma, yet no answers came to her.

Worse, she mused, if the authorities had recovered her note they not only knew her name, they knew to whom it had been addressed. That put Charles McDonald in jeopardy and made her hope he had not returned to the boardinghouse after leaving the Eaton garden.

Everything, all their troubles, pointed back to the boy, didn’t they? Too bad the opinions of children were not given credence, even under normal circumstances. Certainly Johnny would not be listened to in a Washington court. He might, however, make a good emissary to his uncle’s group.

Annabelle rapped on the wall between their rooms. An answering tap came quickly. All she said was “come” and he appeared at her door in seconds.

“Did you hear?” she asked.

The child nodded.

“I need you to go to the Cherokees, tell them what has happened here tonight and warn your uncle. Will you?”

Another nod.

“Good. Be sure you do it secretly. Don’t run up the street the way you did when I was chasing you. You must be very, very careful. No one must see you or catch you. Can you do that and sneak back into this house later?”

“Y-yes.”

Johnny’s lower lip was quivering so she bent to give him a hug of encouragement before adding, “God be with you.”

Placing a kiss on his cheek she straightened, tossed her braid to hang behind her and stepped into the hallway, knowing she was in the right and prepared to prove it somehow.

By the time she was halfway down the stairs, however, most of her courage had evaporated like a drop of water on a hot day. She was determined to hide her fear, though. The less she looked and acted helpless, the braver she felt, so she did her best to stand tall, to face whatever awaited.

* * *

“I have to go now, to make sure she’s all right,” Charles insisted after he had listened to the boy’s story and sent him back to Eaton’s with another member of their group acting as guardian.

Ridge shook his gray head. “You will stay here until morning when we will go together.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t. I’m afraid it may already be too late.”

“If you disobey you will cease to be under my protection,” Ridge warned.

Charles had not anticipated that severe a reaction but he accepted it. “So be it. The woman would not be in trouble if she had not come to my aid. She saved my life.”

“And now you will lose it by foolishness?” Ridge countered. “I had thought better of you.”

That was the last comment Charles heard as he left the boardinghouse and hailed a cab. The horse seemed to sense his urgency because it was prancing as he boarded. “The Eaton house,” he shouted to the driver. “Fast.”

He had to arrive, to intercede, before Annabelle was taken away. He had little doubt that she would be, given the attitude of the soldiers who had confronted his delegation, and his people were important diplomats. The young woman, by her own admission, was merely a ward, and one who was not wanted by the new mistress of the household. What chance would she have if the Secretary of War did not stand up for her?

Perhaps Johnny had misjudged Eaton. Charles hoped so, because otherwise Annabelle’s chances of escaping unjust punishment were slim.

If the party of lawmen and soldiers had not called his name and mentioned Annabelle’s lost note he wouldn’t have worried so much. Since they had, however, he assumed they had not only read his name but her signature, as well. They were both in trouble up to their necks.

Yes, necks, he affirmed. The part of a criminal where the hangman put the noose.

* * *

When Annabelle felt cold shackles close around her wrists she nearly fainted for the second time. Only pride and an immense desire to present herself blameless before her foster father and Margaret kept her on her feet.

The constable led her onto the porch by the short chain between her wrists, making her feel as if they considered her a dangerous animal rather than an innocent girl. Reality dimmed. If this was a nightmare it was the worst she had ever experienced.

Pausing to get her balance on the top step she lifted her gaze. A curious crowd had gathered and most were craning to get a good look. Some onlookers actually pointed at her and called out insults.

From the east, a cab was approaching at speed. The driver pulled hard on the reins. The horse reared. Women screamed. Men cursed and jumped out of the way.

The door of the cab swung open. Annabelle gasped. Charles! No, no, he mustn’t be here.

She saw him start to push his way through the crowd. There was no way he could hope to rescue her from all these armed men. However, he might be a good witness to her innocence in the future, if he survived and kept himself out of prison. John Eaton had promised to hire legal representation, yes, but she doubted he would be amenable to adding a Cherokee client to the venture.

Given so little time and so few options she took a deep breath, looked directly into the crowd where Charles was and screamed, “No!”

The instant he faltered and met her gaze with his, she shook her head and mouthed another, “No,” praying he’d take heed. She sensed his indecision and resisted being pulled down the steps.