Free What the Heart Wants by Marie Caron Page A

you when I get back. Maybe we can talk more about your future when I return,” he said, throwing his parting words over his shoulder. And then he was gone.
    For many minutes I just sat there, staring off into the darkness, wishing that tomorrow had already come and gone. I couldn’t wait to see John again and have that talk about my future. And, before I fell asleep, I decided I would make him a buckskin shirt to replace the one Elizabeth had cut off him. It was the least I could do for him for all the things he’d done for me, even if he didn’t care for me the way I cared for him.
    The following morning the wagon train, now one member short, continued on its way while a part of me remained there on that desolate riverbank with my father.

Chapter 7
    Due to the rough river crossing, several of the wagons were in need of repair, and a few of the cattle had wandered off. The men were able to round up the missing livestock in no time, as they had wandered no farther than the nearest lush meadow, but the wagon repairs would take longer, so the following day we set up camp much earlier than usual.
    While the men unloaded the damaged wagons and set to repairing them, the women cooked, sewed, and minded the rambunctious children, who were happy to have the day off from their lessons with Mr. Drummond, who had declared a school holiday. Meanwhile, as a single lady without any responsibilities, I was free to do whatever I chose. Suppertime found me gnawing on an apple while seated on a fallen log by a sparkling creek. As I stared into the flickering water, I contemplated my future, which at this point did not look very rosy.
    It was getting late, and I knew I should get back to camp, but sharing a meal with the others would mean me getting another sermon from the Sims and a pat on the back or sorrowful looks from everyone else. I just couldn’t take any more of their well-meant platitudes and advice or their pitying looks. All the words in the world would not bring my father back to me. Miserable, I bowed my head and let my tears fall.
    I don’t know how many minutes had passed when I sensed that I was not alone. I looked up and saw four Indian men standing just a few feet from me, and though I tried to keep my wits about me, I was terrified. I stood, intending to put on a brave face and walk slowly back to camp, but an Indian man I hadn’t seen grabbed me from behind, clamping his hand over my mouth so I couldn’t call out. His free arm encircled my waist, and at the same time, one of the other four men grabbed me around the legs. Together the two brown-skinned men carried me across the shallow creek and over the hill on the other side while their cohorts followed along behind us, presumably to make sure they weren’t being followed.
    At first I struggled with the men holding me, twisting and turning my body in an effort to get free, but the man’s arm around my middle was like a steel band, squeezing all the air out of my lungs until I thought I’d pass out. No matter what I did, it was no use; they were much stronger than me. After what seemed like an hour, but was probably only a quarter of that, I let my body go limp, and one of the men picked me up in his arms.
    After a while they stopped, and my abductor set me on my feet. The one who had grabbed me from behind tied my hands in front of me while the man who had carried me turned to the others, gesturing at me while speaking in a language I did not understand. Realizing that I would probably never hear the English language spoken again, my pulse raced. My friendship with John had taught me that a different skin color, a different language, and a different manner of dress were not what mattered when it came to judging a person, but I had been taken against my will, and I was terrified of these strange men. What did they want with me? Even though I suspected they wouldn’t understand me, I felt I had to try to communicate with them.
    “Why have you taken me from my