Lakota

By Mary Suzanne

A brilliant flashing color caught her attention. Off in the distance, she saw a cloud of dust rolling across the sun-baked plains. I think someone’s trying to catch our wagon.
Calley eyes narrowed against the glaring sun trying to discern the identity of the lone rider. As the horse drew nearer, her eyes widened. A man, with shoulder-length, black hair, sat astride a tall, spotted pony. He drew alongside the wagon and stopped his prancing horse.
Suddenly, several thoughts drifted through her head. His bare chest resembled the color of teak. She noted the red jagged lines painted on the stranger’s face. Beneath the bright paint, she could see his fine chiseled features. He certainly was a handsome and strong looking specimen. Her gaze drifted down his body, taking in the beige buckskin material on his muscled thighs. He wore woven moccasins on his feet.
There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he was one of the Indians she'd heard so much about from the many settlers they'd met on the trip. Savages were what most people called them because of their rampages on the white settlements. Instead of fear, she felt intrigued by their unexpected visitor. A thrill of excitement raced through her body simply looking across at him.
As his restless pony drew even closer to the wagon, she gazed into the black pools of his eyes staring at her intently. She tried to find some sign he meant to harm her, but all she saw was a softening of his handsome features and the sudden warmth filling his dark gaze.
"Who are you?" She tried hiding the tremble in her voice. No way must Calley show any sign of fear because she didn't know what the outcome would be for her, or her mother. For the longest time, he sat back on his mount and continued to stare across at her. Calley did the same, swallowing the lump forming in her throat.
"Lakota,” he eventually answered in a soft, velvety tone. "What is your name?"
"Calley McNight.”
Amazement filled her over how well he spoke the English language. The way most people talked, every tribe of Indian had their own language.
They both continued, keeping a close eye on each other. The silence stretched long between them. At first Calley felt unsure about trusting him, but something in his dark gaze and his expression told her she could.
Her mother’s indrawn breath alerted Calley that Mrs. McNight had noticed their painted visitor. "Calley!" Martha cried in a shocked tone, leaning through the opening. "What's going on?" She gripped Calley’s shoulders protectively with fingers that trembled.
Calley glanced over her shoulder and saw the ashen color of her mother's face. Martha's eyes met Calley's and Calley saw her fear.
"We have a visitor,” Calley said quickly, hoping to soothe her.
"Your father should be along any minute,” Martha uttered, with a tremble in her voice.
Calley realized her mother was saying whatever popped into her head. Her father was a day's ride ahead of them hoping to reach the log cabin and grazing lands with the cattle before nightfall. We’re going to have to do a lot of traveling to catch up to him, Calley thought silently.
"You are safe from harm,” Lakota spoke directly to Martha, but his gaze soon returned to Calley.
As his dark eyes continued to watch her, Calley felt a fluttering sensation seize her chest. She hadn't felt this way since the night of her first dance back in Boston. She quickly noted the look of honesty in his eyes and on his face and his words did hold the sound of sincerity. There was a genuine warm look in the dark eyes watching her so closely.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Suzanne
• Release date: Jul 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310408328

Mary Suzanne

Mary Suzanne writes a story feeling the hero and heroine’s pain, happiness and joy over their relationship. It she is able to transport a person from their every day existence to another realm in time; then she has succeeded in giving something special to her readers.Currently there are 99 e-books ready for purchase at Smashwords.com and othet distributors.

Book preview

Lakota

Copyright 2016 by Mary Suzanne

Smashwords Edition

Chapter One

The morning sun rose over the barren countryside covering the valley with its brilliant rays. Calley McNight rubbed the sleep from her Jade colored eyes and peeked through the canvas opening. She lifted the flap higher, climbing to the front of the sturdy, old wagon, joining her mother on the wooden seat.

Martha McNight raised the straps and brought them down on the rumps of the horses urging them forward. Get up, she ordered, prodding them to a swifter pace. Her goal was to catch her husband who was ahead driving a small herd of cattle to their homestead in Illinois.

A frown of concentration creased Martha's lined features. She had swept her graying-blonde hair high off her neck for comfort from the steamy weather. She removed a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the sweat beads forming across her brow.

I see you've finally decided to get up, Martha greeted her daughter.

Calley yawned softly covering her mouth with her fingertips. Hand me the reins and I'll spell you for a while. She saw how tired her mother looked pushing the team since way before daylight.

Martha nodded to her daughter's suggestion. While you do that, I'll fix something to eat. From what your father told me last night, we don’t have far to go to reach the homestead.

I didn't realize we were so close. Calley had come to believe they were never going to reach their property, but it looked as if the end was in sight.

Martha handed the reins to Calley. If you have any problems, lift the flap and let me know.

Martha disappeared behind the dingy, canvas covering, into the back of the wagon. Calley could hear her mother's movements inside the small shelter. The sounds competed sharply with the steady clopping noise of the horse hooves beating against the dry earth.

A light breeze stirred giving Calley a little relief from the humid air. Her eyes followed a whirling dust devil across the open fields. Soon the cone-shaped debris flew past the wagon picking up dirt and sticks along the way. Bushy sagebrush tumbled wildly in all directions lumbering across the fields and disappearing over a small rise in the landscape. The breeze disappeared quickly returning the hot and sticky atmosphere.

Time passed so slowly for Calley since leaving their home in Boston in the year of 1832. It had been four months since she had waved goodbye to her childhood friends.

Calley wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings that morning with her thoughts filled with yesteryear. When another gust of warm wind brushed her face, she felt a strange premonition wash over her.

A brilliant flashing color caught her attention. Off in the distance, she saw a cloud of dust rolling across the sun-baked plains. I think someone’s trying to catch our wagon.

Calley eyes narrowed against the glaring sun trying to figure out the identity of the lone rider. As the horse drew nearer, her eyes widened. A man, with shoulder-length, black hair, sat astride a tall, spotted pony. He drew alongside the wagon and stopped his prancing horse.

Suddenly, several thoughts drifted through her head. His bare chest resembled the color of teak. She noted the red jagged lines painted on the stranger’s face. Beneath the bright paint, she could see his fine chiseled features. He certainly was a handsome and strong looking specimen. Her gaze drifted down his body, taking in the beige buckskin material on his muscled thighs. He wore woven moccasins on his feet.

There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he was one of the Indian's she'd heard so much about from the many settlers they'd met on the trip. Savages were what most people called them because of their rampages on the white settlements. Instead of fear, she felt intrigued by their unexpected visitor. A thrill of excitement raced through her body just looking across at him.

As his restless pony drew even closer to the wagon, she gazed up into the black pools of his eyes staring at her intently. She tried to find some sign he meant to harm her.

All she saw was a softening of his handsome features and the sudden warmth filling his dark gaze.

Who are you? She tried hiding the tremble in her voice. No way must Calley show any sign of fear because she didn't know what the outcome would be for her, or her mother. For the longest time, he sat back on his mount and continued to stare across at her. Calley did the same, swallowing the lump forming in her throat.

Lakota, he eventually answered softly. What is your name?

Calley McNight.

Amazement filled her over how well he spoke the English language. The way most people talked, every tribe of Indian had their own language.

They both continued keeping a close eye on each other. The silence stretched long between them. At first Calley felt unsure about trusting him, but something in his dark gaze and his expression told her she could.

Her mother’s indrawn breath alerted Calley that Mrs. McNight had noticed their painted visitor. Calley! Martha cried, leaning through the opening. What's going on? She gripped Calley’s shoulders protectively with fingers that trembled. Calley glanced over her shoulder and saw the ashen color of her mother's face. Martha's eyes met Calley's and Calley saw her fear.

We have a visitor, Calley said quickly, hoping to soothe her.

Your father should be along any minute, Martha uttered the white lie.

Calley realized her mother was saying whatever popped into her head. Her father was a day's ride ahead of them hoping to reach the log cabin and grazing lands with the cattle before nightfall. We’re going to have to do a lot of traveling to catch up to him, Calley thought silently.

You are safe from harm, Lakota spoke directly to Martha, but his gaze soon returned to Calley.

As his dark eyes continued to watch her, Calley felt a fluttering sensation seize her chest. She hadn't felt this way since the night of her first dance back in Boston.

She quickly noted the look of honesty in his eyes and on his face.

***

Lakota didn’t make a move to follow them any further. He sat astride his horse watching the wagon disappearing across the rocky plains, until it was only a flyspeck on the horizon. There was an excitement stirring in him over the beauty of the woman called Calley. Never in his life had Lakota seen such luxurious free flowing dark black hair or brilliant green eyes on a white settler.

A new set of emotions erupted in him that was hard for Lakota to understand. Something drove him to follow the wagon at a safe distance and find the location of their new homestead. He nudged his mount forward and continued behind them at a slow trot

The nerve of that savage! Martha glanced quickly over her shoulder to see if he was following them. Narrowing her eyes in the brightness of the day, she couldn't see any sign of him, or his spotted pony. Thank the good Lord he's not behind us. A heavy sigh left her lips.

He said he wasn't going to bother us and I believe him, Calley quickly defended the Indian. Again, she felt the fluttering sensation in her chest and wondered at the cause. Something about him made her react this way.

You trust people too much, Calley. There's no telling what he might do to us. How can you forget the stories the other settlers told us about how the y were attacked? A visible shudder raced through Martha's body.

And you don't trust people enough. Calley tried soothing her. I'm not forgetting the settlers’ stories, but he didn't make one move to bother us.

No, you’re right about that, but there could be a next time. When you get to be my age, you'll understand what I mean about not trusting everyone.

Calley silently hoped she'd always remain as she was; judging people fairly. She could only attribute her mother's reasoning to having lived a hard life. This was not going to be her way of life.

Martha dropped the subject of the Indian from the conversation as she kept the horses moving at a steady pace. All that morning they took turns guiding the team across the lonely landscape.

By mid-afternoon, they could see clouds of dust rising in the sky and Calley knew it had to be her father. As they approached John McNight, he lifted his sweat, stained hat and smiled a welcome.

So, my girls have finally caught up to me, he called out, with a chuckle. He pulled on the reins, stopping his big bay and guiding the animal alongside the wagon. What's your hurry, or did you miss me?

It didn't take Martha a second to begin explaining about their painted visitor that morning on the trail. When she finished, Calley saw a frown forming across John's sun bronzed forehead.

I believe we should ride the rest of the trip together, Martha told him.

That's a good idea. John shaded his eyes and looked off in the distance for any sign of trouble. Satisfied at seeing no one behind them, he turned back to Martha. We ought to reach the homestead late tonight.

It won't be too soon for me. Calley could hear her mother's deep sigh of relief. Are you hungry? Martha thought to ask her husband.

Not right now, he answered. I fixed something to eat a little earlier. John said over his shoulder as he made a move to round up a few strays wandering away from the herd. Let's get moving.

Calley watched her father as he prodded the cattle. He was a big strapping man in size. To her way of thinking, he could accomplish anything. They'd had disagreements in the past, but she always relied on his judgment.

She sat back and leaned her shoulders against the hard frame of the wagon. A picture of the Indian's face popped again into her thoughts. He was a handsome devil, she thought silently, but Calley wasn't about to admit this to either of her parents.

She also wondered if she would ever see him again, although this seemed impossible with their vast differences. She shook her head and brought her wandering thoughts back to the present as she stared out at the image of the heat rising.

Later that day, the McNight family arrived at a wide body of water covering acres of land. Martha guided the wagon down a hillside to a small valley below. Nestled in the valley was a crude, log cabin, located near the bank of the swift, moving river. An abundance of trees swayed in the wind, marking the property surrounding the rough looking structure.

John’s older brother had built the cabin years earlier. He had decided to move out west in search of gold, and had given the rights to the property to John McNight.

We’re finally here, Martha said softly, turning to Calley. Isn’t it the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen in your life? Calley saw how her mother’s eyes glowed looking out over their new property.

After leaving their home in the east, Calley wondered how her mother could find such primitive surroundings beautiful. She had decided long ago to make the most of their moving and not complain.

Instead of answering, she hopped down off the wagon and stretched her sore muscles. Calley started right in on helping unload their things. Long into the evening, Calley helped carry clothing, nick-knacks and small pieces of furniture into the cabin. By the time they put everything in its place, she felt ready to drop from exhaustion. At seventeen, she felt older than her years. The riding over mountainous territory and the dry plains had become wearisome and had taken a toll on her. She poured some of the river water she’d gathered from the bucket into a small bowl and washed the dusty grime from her body.

Calley sank tiredly on the bed her father had assembled as soon as they had arrived. She lay quietly listening to the night sounds outside her window. Everything seemed so foreign to her, but she would just have to adjust.

Tomorrow would come soon enough and there would be plenty of work to keep her busy. From the looks of the desolate area, she was going to have much time on her hands. She closed her eyes wearily, and before drifting off to sleep, an image of