Savage Surrender by Cassie Edwards

Author:Cassie Edwards [Edwards, Cassie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-01-21T22:00:34+00:00

Sixteen

Brenda stirred on the floor of the canoe, sore and cold. She was trying to throw off the web of languor holding her captive. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she could feel herself being rocked, recollections of her past once again stealing through her. If she let herself believe it, she was a small child again. She was on her mother's lap on a rocking chair, being sung a lullaby in rhythm with the chair as it creaked slowly back and forth before the lazy warmth of a fire dancing in the family fireplace.

But the air about her broke the reverie. It was steeped in chill, causing her to shiver, wide awake. Her eyes darted about her, seeing the sides of the canoe, the paddles resting on each side of her, and the sky lightening to blue overhead.

Something grabbed Brenda at the pit of her stomach, again making her aware of where she truly was . . . and why. She had successfully stolen another Ojibwa canoe and had made her escape from Striped Eagle's village. But in the darkness she had lost her way, having guided the canoe up an unfamiliar tributary, the Mississippi elusive to her this time. Pushing herself up on an elbow, careful not to tip the canoe, Brenda wondered how long she had been drifting. She had fought the urge to sleep until her eyes would not stay open any longer. She had feared falling asleep in the canoe, but she finally gave in, utter exhaustion overtaking even the need for safety. If the canoe had snagged in brush and had tipped . . .?

Shuddering at the thought, emitting a soft prayer of thanksgiving to God that she was still afloat and alive. Brenda peered through the softness of morning. A cottony fog was lifting from the river's edge, revealing to her that she wasn't too far from shore. Though lost and in danger, she couldn't help but marvel at the wild splendor which walled the river that lay basking quietly in the cool sunlight and shadows of the early morning.

The shoreline was thick with new green cattails and watercress. Mud hens and several other kinds of waterfowl were swooping down to settle in little clusters, waiting for unwary fish, a great blue heron dominant over all, spearing chubs.

Muskrats were feeding; the air was rich with the scent of cedar; a deer drinking thirstily darted nimbly away into the thickness of Norway pines.

Moaning from weariness and aching muscles, Brenda rose up to settle herself on the seat in the middle of the canoe. Fear of what lay ahead was like a throb deep within her chest where her heart pounded. She looked up both forks of the river, wondering which way she must travel, so disoriented she couldn't discern from which direction she had come.

"Striped Eagle was right," she whispered. "It seems that I cannot take care of myself. I am lost . . . as never before."

But not only wanting to find civilization

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