The Lost Winter Of Lyla Strauss

By A.H. Scott

In this coming of age story, set in the Yukon of the year 1850: fur trapper and orphan he raised come face to face with the transformative dimensions of their relationship, from tragedies through time’s passage. Escaping the world of his past, Dancy Ruelaix ventured into the solitude of wilderness. Wanting to evade opening his heart to another human being, he always thought he never needed anyone. But, there was one person who could not live without him. Her name was Lyla Strauss. A season of change comes in “The Lost Winter of Lyla Strauss”.

Both trappers did the best they could in saving Coulton’s right foot, as the probability of him losing it was a likely conclusion beyond blooded strips of white cloth and an improvised splint along the length of his leg.

Delirium wafted over the stranger, as bouts of excruciating pain and slim swaths of lucidity encapsulated this human being for almost a month. Person nursing him back to some semblance of viability relied mostly on tinctures and potions from Ravenswood, a shamanic healer from the Inuit tribe.

Hollister’s condition was touch and go as he drifted into a coma during the middle of October and was given a spiritual ceremony of finality by Ravenswood.

As one of the trappers stayed inside the cabin around the clock keeping watch over Coulton for the next seven days the other stayed the course of collecting, cleaning and curing pelts for the future winter months to come.

To normalize Coulton Hollister’s temperature since his rescue in September, a bed had been placed in the front room of the cabin where the fireplace was located.

On the morning of the seventh day of that vigil, sun beamed through an almost sheer piece of fabric on the side window of the cabin and a man awakened once more.

Coulton’s eyes slowly opened, as a blazing flash of sunlight filled the cabin and he got a first glimpse of life back among the living.

Beneath a cocooning layer of varied blankets, cloths and fur swaths, this wounded man’s arms slowly pushed them to one side of the bed as his eyes grasped for some sight which was familiar to him.

Focusing first upon his beard which had become overgrown, Coulton’s eyes slowly began to blink and take in a pleasant view.
Across the room from where he was, a nude female of slight form sat on the edge of another bed, brushing long, brown hair with her back situated to him.

In an awakened presence of the angel who he had thought was sent to watch over him Coulton Hollister thought this young waif of only 13 or 14 years of age had been the daughter of the trappers who’d recovered him from the base of that ravine.

Focusing his eyes upon this nude female, he realized she was more mature than being of teen years. She was not a girl, but a woman of tender presence. Probably not the daughter of the trapper, but a young bride of a mountain man was the thought which filled Hollister’s mind about this beauty.

Coulton’s labored grunt filled the air, as each footstep brought him closer to where she sat upon the bed. Using a branch located near his bed as a crutch to stabilize his balance, he moved slowly.

Hearing him stir behind her, this young woman wrapped a white cotton garment around herself in front of this stranger, “You certainly know how to scare a person, Mister”. She spoke with an anxious smile.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.H. Scott
• Release date: Jan 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463015551

A.H. Scott

"It all begins between the ears". - A.H. ScottABOUT A.H. SCOTT -A.H. Scott is an author of fiction of varied styles. From contemporary to historical; she brings characters into stark view. Romances ever so sweet and tender to adventures of legends from far-away lands, her writing can take a readers’ imagination to places of courage, passion, pride, and sojourn of enlightenment. Yet, don’t be fooled, A.H. Scott does not let her pen rest on a single note of simplicity. She delves into desires within the heart with characters of sensuality and decadent lust. Women of abandon and men of lascivious intent intermingle in plots of hedonistic havens. Beyond the stars or right next door, her fiction soars and swirls with touches of light and excursions into shadow.========================A.H. SCOTT Philosophy -"As an author, I enjoy letting my characters and plots that I've created get inside of the reader's heads. I make a promise to anyone that rolls the dice and catches a glimpse of my work that you will never be bored. Your eyes, mind and soul shall be thrilled. This is my bond to you, the reader: No simplicity ever from A.H. Scott. Always complexity is my main intent on anyone who reads my work." - A.H. Scott********************A.H. SCOTT COLLABORATIONSAs a blogger, her articles and analysis touch on subjects of current events as woven through the lens of the past. Featured on the blog of master photographer, Tony Ward; her spark of wit, sass and charm is on display. In their collaboration, lion of the lens Tony Ward and the peppered pen of A.H. Scott have combined the percolation of image and prose into an invigorating elixir of provocative temptation.Just type in my name (A.H. Scott) in the search bar and you'll find me in Tony Ward's arena of art and provocation -https://tonywardstudio.com/lens & pen intersect in a blistering combination...____________________________"LETTERS TO MY BULLY" ANTHOLOGY CONTRIBUTOR -"I am proud to be a contributor to this anthology. "Letters To My Bully" sheds light on the soul crushing issue of bullying. It doesn't sugar coat the problem. It faces it head on. And, provides a pathway for all who are, or have been bullied in life. Glover Lane Press and Azaan Kamau have gathered together contributors from all walks of life to show that we all have constructed "Letters To My Bully" in some ways along our lives. This book is just the culmination of life's outpouring of emotion and reflection. Stand UP To Bullying! Stand UP For YOU..!" - A.H. Scott"Letters To My Bully" brief description:Letters to My Bully is a thought-provoking collection of letters, poetry and essays written by youth, women, men, seniors and celebrities that will change the way this country views survivors forever...KINDLE - http://www.amazon.com/Letters-to-My-Bully-ebook/dp/B008XB3HJEPAPERBACK - http://www.amazon.com/Letters-My-Bully-Azaan-Kamau/dp/0615582168********************************"I want the reader to be affected in two ways - above the neck & below the belt". - A.H. Scott========================Amazon Author Pages Of A.H. Scott:US - http://www.amazon.com/author/ahscottUK - http://www.amazon.co.uk/A.H.-Scott/e/B006H5SAG8GERMANY - http://www.amazon.de/A.H.-Scott/e/B006H5SAG8FRANCE - http://www.amazon.fr/A.H.-Scott/e/B006H5SAG8"Just when you think you've seen it all - see more". - A.H. Scott

Book preview

The Lost Winter of Lyla Strauss

By

A.H. Scott

Smashwords Inc. Copyright 2019

A.H. Scott Copyright 2019

Cover Art by A.H. Scott – Copyright 2019

This ebook is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, dead or alive, or other real-life entities, past or present, is purely coincidental.

All characters in this work are over 18 years of age. Any sexual acts in this book are between consenting adults aged 18 or older.

The Lost Winter of Lyla Strauss

By

A.H. Scott

Chapter One

Isolation of the wilderness conjured an element of nature comparable to those whipping winds, curtain of snow and blizzard conditions in the town of Callaway.

Vast and vacant was the Yukon wilderness; where mountain men, trappers, prospectors and saloon girls scrambled from their pasts to forget and forge life anew within an unforgiving existence in an isolated patch of God’s country in 1850.

Tiny flecks of ice formed on Coulton Hollister’s beard as he lay at the bottom of the ravine at Banyon Pass. He was befallen as he was trekking through the snow by one of the woods’ most effective instruments of survival.

Steel trap dug into his right foot, as iron sawed deep within bone and muscle. He prayed for relief, from the pain, cold and dying alone. Prayers were answered in the form of two souls who heard his yelping from nearby the ravine.

Help!!

Pair of fur trappers were those unlikely angels gazing down over the edge of Banyon Pass to the man crumpled at its’ slightly cavernous base, as he moaned to them with ascending weakness in his voice, Please….don’t let me die…

Cloaked in layers of pelt and wool coats, they devised a pulley system with some rope and a sled which held some supplies. Finally, making their way down into the ravine both of them lifted him up and dragged his body into the sled up the snow covered rock face.

With their cabin being not too far away from this location, this stranger was taken in by them.

Both trappers did the best they could in saving Coulton’s right foot, as the probability of him losing it was a likely conclusion beyond blooded strips of white cloth and an improvised splint along the length of his leg.

Delirium wafted over the stranger, as bouts of excruciating pain and slim swaths of lucidity encapsulated this human being for almost a month. Person nursing him back to some semblance of viability relied mostly on tinctures and potions from Ravenswood, a shamanic healer from the Inuit tribe.

Hollister’s condition was touch and go as he drifted into a coma during the middle of October and was given a spiritual ceremony of finality by Ravenswood.

As one of the trappers stayed inside the cabin around the clock keeping watch over Coulton for the next seven days the other stayed the course of collecting, cleaning and curing pelts for the future winter months to come.

To normalize Coulton Hollister’s temperature since his rescue in September, a bed had been placed in the front room of the cabin where the fireplace was located.

On the morning of the seventh day of that vigil, sun beamed through an almost sheer piece of fabric on the side window of the cabin and a man awakened once more.

Coulton’s eyes slowly opened, as a blazing flash of sunlight filled the cabin and he got a first glimpse of life back among the living.

Beneath a cocooning layer of varied blankets, cloths and fur swaths, this wounded man’s arms slowly pushed them to one side of the bed as his eyes grasped for some sight which was familiar to him.

Focusing first upon his beard which had become overgrown, Coulton’s eyes slowly began to blink and take in a pleasant view.

Across the room from where he was, a nude female of slight form sat on the edge of another bed, brushing long, brown hair with her back situated to him.

In an awakened presence of the angel who he had thought was sent to watch over him Coulton Hollister thought this young waif of only 13 or 14 years of age had been the daughter of the trappers who’d recovered him from the base of that ravine.

Focusing his eyes upon this nude female, he realized she was more mature than being of teen years. She was not a girl, but a woman of tender presence. Probably not the daughter of the trapper, but a young bride of a mountain man was the thought which filled Hollister’s mind about this beauty.

Coulton’s labored grunt filled the air, as each footstep brought him closer to where she sat upon the bed. Using a branch located near his bed as a crutch to stabilize his balance, he moved slowly.

Hearing him stir behind her, this young woman wrapped a white cotton garment around herself in front of this stranger, You certainly know how to scare a person, Mister. She spoke with an anxious smile.

Not wanting to frighten this young woman as he approached, Coulton spoke in a low tone, Where am I?

Buttoning this billowy, white garment closed completely, she replied to him, You are at the Ruelaix cabin at the trading post outside of Callaway.

Having had only a trace of memory of what had happened at Banyon Pass and confusion over this present moment, this bearded man breathlessly began rapidly questioning her, How did I get here? Some sense of explanation was wanted from the woman standing in front of him, What happened? Insistence of anxiety overtook him, as he looked around the cabin, Does your family own this place?

She revealed to him who owned this cabin and the trading post where he gathering bearings of revival, This land belongs to Dancy Ruelaix.

About to say something, he sighed, "Whoa, I feel