Free Before the Scarlet Dawn by RITA GERLACH Page B

her brows, Fiona’s mouth flew open. “Not I.”
    “The water is heavenly in this heat. Your sore limbs will feel the better for it.”
    “You expect me to take off my stockings, hoist my skirts, and put my bare legs into the river in front of Mr. Morgan?”
    With another laugh, Eliza tossed her hair back. “He will not care. Now, come on. It will do you good.”
    Fiona hesitated and glanced from Eliza to Hayward. He turned away to give her ease that he would avert his eyes.
    “I shall not take off my stockings. Just my shoes.”
    “No, no.” Eliza wrinkled her brow. “You must take your stockings off. Otherwise you shall tear them on the stones.”
    Eliza made sense, and so Fiona hiked up her skirts and secured them. She took off her shoes, then her stockings, and made slow progress out into the river. “It does refresh the body,” she said with a smile. She cupped her hands, plunged them into the water, and then rubbed the cool water over her arms and face.
    Eliza splashed her, then went further out, and her husband called to her, “Eliza, come back. You go too far. You do not know the river. There are deep pools.”
    The hem of her dress skimmed along the surface as she waded back, her legs heavy against the current. “You are right, Hayward. I grow too bold.”
    Surprised by the cautious look in his eyes, she halted. They were locked onto a spot across the river, on the Virginia side where the trees met the river’s edge. He stepped forward and motioned to Eliza and Fiona with a quick bidding of his hand. “Hurry, both of you. But make no sound.”
    Silently, he stepped forward into the water to bring her in. The horses lifted their heads and pricked their ears. Eliza followed the direction of Hayward’s eyes. Half hidden from view by the ancient hemlocks and weeping willows was an eagle feather hanging from a crop of coal-black hair, the bare breast of an Indian, his deer hide apron, and the black wolf’s mask that covered his eyes.
    The Indian stood motionless beneath the shale cliffs that hugged the river. In his hand he clutched a bow, and across his chest stretched the strap of his deerskin quiver. Fear gripped her even though he stood a great distance away.
    Hayward led Eliza out of the water to the shore, then brought her back up the bank. Fiona followed after retrieving her stockings and shoes.
    “Stay here.” Hayward turned back, grabbed the horses’ reins, and brought the horses through the line of trees and back to the path. “He is too far to reach us, but there may be others following him by canoe. Why he is this far downriver, I do not know. But it is better we are gone.”
    He lifted Eliza back into the pillion and then helped Fiona. Through the trees, Eliza watched the Indian. He had not moved; only the breeze lifted his hair and caused his feather to wave. She had an impulse to raise her hand, as if it would win some kind of favor. But she hesitated.
    Suddenly the Indian raised his bow above his head and called across the river. Though the loud rapids drowned out his words, they made Eliza’s blood run as cold as the undercurrents.
    She pressed closer to Hayward. “Do you understand him?”
    Hayward dragged the reins through his hands. “He is sending us a warning.”
    Placing her hands around Hayward’s waist and locking her fingers, she felt the kick he gave to Omega’s sides. The horse moved on, down the path through the sunlight, where an encompassing forest soon covered them. Fiona rode alongside, her hands still atremble while gripping the reins.
    “Do not fear, Fiona,” Eliza said. “See how far the other side is? There are no others with him.”
    “I hope you are right, my girl.” Fiona’s eyes widened. “On my life, I have never seen anything like that. Oh, he struck fear into me just as if he had shot an arrow into my heart. I pray God there are none of his friends on this side of the river.”
    Eliza leaned her head against Hayward’s back. “Hayward shall take