Read Online Trail of Hope (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll) by Heidi Vanlandingham - Free Book Online Page A

into his heart. He sat in stunned silence, staring down at her beautiful face. Silky black hair framed her skin—a rich, dark cream, and perfect. His chest felt hot and swollen as a powerful emotion extinguished the doubts and disbeliefs. He loved her. Yet his vow to avenge his family came first.
    As the hours passed, Martin’s and Clay’s anxiety increased. “Sophia? Aiukli? You need to wake up now.” Clay’s voice broke. He’d talked to her constantly since she’d gone limp in his arms, hoping she would hear him calling to her. She’d been unconscious for almost eight hours, and pushing back the growing panic gripping his chest was getting harder to do. Taking turns with Martin, holding her and trying to warm her icy skin, helped. Somewhat. The child slept as well, tightly wrapped in her arms.
    Clay caught Martin’s steady gaze and for the hundredth time asked, “She will be fine, right?”
    Martin nodded once. His eyes narrowed but never left her pale face. Clay waited while the older man worked out whatever was bothering him.
    Martin cleared his throat a couple of times. “I heard you talking…just before she rescued the little one.” Clay kept his mouth shut and waited for Martin to continue. “Did I ever tell you about my daughter?” he asked in a tired voice. Clay shook his head. He vaguely remembered hearing his father speak about her, but she’d died when Clay was young, so he hadn’t paid much attention.
    “My Water Lily was beautiful, like her mother. The earth was happy when she smiled. We still lived together as a tribe while she grew up. By the time Water Lily was a beautiful woman, most tribe members had moved off to their own farms.” He paused. Clay noted the faraway glint in the old man’s eyes. He could almost see the lifetime of memories as they tumbled over one another. He glanced down when Sophia twitched.
    “When my daughter, Water Lily, found an injured white man, she brought him to our home. The man healed and they fell in love. Almost one year later, they had a child of their own. A beautiful daughter. My Klara and I never knew such peace. Just after Rain Blossom turned one, Water Lily took her to Savannah and gave our granddaughter to a white family for them to raise. Our daughter died very soon after, without telling us who they were. Her husband, Jerrod, returned from his hunt to find his wife dead and his daughter gone. He was devastated.” Martin’s red eyes rose from Sophia’s face to stare out across the ship’s deck. “We never found our Rain Blossom—in less than one week, we lost all three.”
    A band tightened across Clay’s chest as the old man’s pain became his. He knew what being alone was like—a hollowness deep inside that nothing could fill. He looked down at the beauty in his lap. Until her . An idea crept into his mind as he mulled over what he’d just learned. “How did Water Lily know she was dying? Could she have been worried about what the Cherokee would do after she was gone?”
    Martin shrugged. “I don’t know how she knew or even what she was thinking. We would never have turned either one away. Jerrod had become one of us—he was Cherokee in all but skin.”
    “I don’t think she believed anyone. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Certain Choctaw tribes follow the same rule—if the child’s father is white and the mother dies, they are sent away from the tribe.” He readjusted his cramped position on the deck’s hard wood surface, careful not to waken Sophia. “I don’t remember seeing a white man in your home when father and I visited.”
    “He was only there for those two years. Through a friend, I heard he might have joined the army. Several years later, the same friend told us he was seen at the docks but disappeared again. I haven’t heard anything since. It has long puzzled me. This was not the same man who loved my Water Lily. The man I knew would never have left his daughter in someone else’s home. The day he