The Solitary Path of Courage

By M.B. Tosi

In The Solitary Path of Courage, a young woman, Sam O’Brien, heads west with her father to the Idaho Territory, where he hopes to become a prospector during the gold rush. Tragedy strikes along the way, and Sam is abandoned at a mission in southern Idaho. When one of her new stepsisters runs off to avoid an arranged marriage, Sam secretly travels to rescue her in the rough-and-tumble boomtown of Lewiston, which is in the heart of gold country. Daring and resourceful, the young woman finds employment as a newspaper reporter and boldly makes her way in a man’s world.

In this realistic and dangerous tale of the Old West of the 1870s, Sam unintentionally becomes embroiled in the struggles of the Nez Perce to remain on their ancestral lands. Torn between her two stepbrothers, she becomes caught in the middle of the Nez Perce War and the tribe’s final flight to Canada. Before escaping to the safety of Lewiston with the stepbrother she loves, Sam O’Brien courageously travels with the Nez Perce and reports from the frontlines of war.

“M.B. Tosi continues her series of wonderful books with The Solitary Path of Courage, an exciting story of the Old West. As with all of her books, this one is alive with adventure, genuine history, difficult decisions, and faith. It is a book to enjoy.”

—Jim Langford,

Director Emeritus of University of Notre Dame Press

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Apr 29, 2015
• ISBN: 9781490876573

M.B. Tosi

M.B. TOSI is the bestselling author of The Indian Path Series and now The Early Path Series. She also has been an editor of non-fiction books and a weekly newspaper, teaches piano, and has a bachelor’s degree in journalism and a master’s degree in education. Born in Pierre, South Dakota, she has lived in Alexandria, Virginia; Bucks County, Pennsylvania; and Toledo, Ohio. She has three children and six grandchildren. Read more at www.MBTosi.com

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 M.B. Tosi

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Author’s photo was taken by Stevie Grand, www.grandlubell.com

All names, main characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. Lewiston’s newspapers existed during the dates recorded, but any characters or articles associated with the newspapers are fictitious. Accounts of the flight of the Nez Perce, including its battles and military leaders, are based on historical records. The Nez Perce band under Chief Spotted Eagle is fictitious and a product of the author’s imagination.

All quotations used are public domain.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4908-7658-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-7659-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-7657-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015905991

WestBow Press rev. date: 04/29/2015

Contents

Dedication

Preface

Introduction

PART ONE

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

PART TWO

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

PART THREE

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

PART FOUR

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-two

Chapter Thirty-three

PART FIVE

Chapter Thirty-four

Chapter Thirty-five

Chapter Thirty-six

Chapter Thirty-seven

Chapter Thirty-eight

Chapter Thirty-nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-one

Chapter Forty-two

Chapter Forty-three

Chapter Forty-four

Chapter Forty-five

Chapter Forty-six

Chapter Forty-seven

Chapter Forty-eight

Chapter Forty-nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-one

Chapter Fifty-two

Chapter Fifty-three

Epilog

Resources

Reviews for The Thundering Path of Spirit

"I love a book that can give me the experience of being there and keep me spellbound as the story unfolds. That is exactly what M.B. Tosi does with her latest book, The Thundering Path of Spirit. I couldn’t put it down. I was so drawn into the story, that I felt the emotional upheavals throughout. It’s one thing to read a book, and quite another to experience it. Thank you M.B. Tosi for the experience! I highly recommend the entire Indian Path Series, you won’t be disappointed!" ~ Kathy Perry, bestselling co-author of Stepping Stones to Success

"In The Thundering Path of Spirit, M. B. Tosi has, once again, delivered to readers the tears of joy and sorrow they expect in a 19th Century North American story. This wonderful book helps us to recognize the hardships of the isolated and primitive life of our forbearers as they relied on their traditional spirituality to surmount dangers while attempting to build a common destiny." ~ John G. Agno, Executive and Business Coach, co-author of When Doing It All Won’t Work

"The Thundering Path of Spirit may be the best of all. The unusual love story, set against the Battle of the Little Bighorn, grabs your attention immediately, takes you through the unexpected twists and turns, and makes you feel a part of history. Fans of the series will love it!" ~ Stephen J. Brennan, PhD, author of 6 Psychological Factors for Success

"M.B. Tosi has written another fascinating, tender and inspiring book with The Thundering Path of Spirit. Her understanding of true spirituality is deeply heart-warming. I thoroughly enjoyed the story, as well as learning interesting details about the history of this time." ~ Margaret Paul, Ph.D., co-author of Do I Have To Give Up Me To Be Loved By You and Healing Your Aloneness and co-creator of Inner Bonding®

"The Thundering Path of Spirit is another great book by M.B. Tosi. You just can’t put it down once you start reading it. Exciting, adventurous, serious but easy reading. It is a pleasure to read!" ~ Robert J. Towles

"With the fourth book in the series, The Thundering Path of Spirit, the author has achieved a new level of complexity and richness while delivering a smooth, compelling narrative. And in contrast to her earlier works, the author has added an interesting and intriguing dimension to the story with a romantic triangle that involves two Native Americans. Very engaging reading!" ~ L. Heitz

"The Thundering Path of Spirit is a captivating love story and spiritual adventure told against the background of life with the Crow Indians. A wonderful tale that kept me interested from beginning to end." ~ Nelda G. Mold

"The Thundering Path of Spirit is another great read in The Indian Path Series by M.B. Tosi. You won’t be able to put the book down so plan on some late night reading. This captivating historical fiction book has it all; history, adventure, and romance. So find yourself a comfy chair and enjoy." ~ Elaine Cherry

"The research spent on The Thundering Path of Spirit really shows and greatly enhanced my experience. A compelling tale masterfully woven that seamlessly and unobtrusively incorporates faith and spirituality. Can’t wait to read the others in this series." ~ J. Rich

Reviews for The Crimson Path of Honor

I have spent most of my life in book publishing, as an author, executive editor and publisher. I am very impressed by the works of M.B. Tosi; she does very careful research so that she can tell her stories and frame her fiction in the context of Native American history. Her novels focus on ethical and human issues in a way that is captivating because they mirror real life. I hope her audience continues to grow. Good writing needs recognition these days. ~ Jim Langford, Ph.D., Director Emeritus, University of Notre Dame Press, bestselling author of The Spirit of Notre Dame and Quotable Notre Dame

"Fast paced, hard to put down, well-written—these are all descriptions of author M.B. Tosi’s latest addition to The Indian Path Series. If you like historical fiction about a formative period in our nation’s history, the Indian Wars, The Crimson Path of Honor is the book for you. M.B. Tosi’s vivid images of tribal life and conflict make history come alive as a young woman is captured and consequently adopted by the Lakota. I highly recommend this book." ~ Dr. Joe Rubino, bestselling author of The Self-Esteem Book

"In The Crimson Path of Honor by M. B. Tosi, I found a heroine to admire for the persistent strength that she showed no matter how unbelievably challenging she found life. Frankly, I could never have dreamed up such a strong character myself although my own message is always to be assertive of one’s rights. The heroine’s character is also noble, kind, and incredibly intelligent. I just really loved reading the dialogue that Tosi created between her and her protagonist, the handsome Indian Chief Golden Eagle. I recommend this book for anyone needing a lesson in facing the difficulties of life with grace, faith, and focus." ~ Dr. Deb Hirschhorn, bestselling author of The Healing Is Mutual: Marriage Empowerment Tools to Rebuild Trust and Respect—Together

"You know when you pick up a book and your plan is just to read a little bit before going to bed, well I had that plan with The Crimson Path of Honor, but couldn’t put it down. It is so well-written that it takes you on the journey as it unfolds. I felt like I was watching a movie as I was reading it, because of the rich descriptions of everything. I felt all the emotions as they emerged on each page. It’s been a long time since a book kept me so engrossed and engaged while reading it. I highly recommend it." ~ Kathy Perry, bestselling co-author of Stepping Stones to Success

I couldn’t put this book down, beautifully written, wonderfully descriptive and each chapter more exciting than the last! M.B. Tosi is truly brilliant! . . . a must read! ~ Linda Graham, President and CEO of Infinitechange.com, bestselling author of Procrastinating? Train your brain to STOP!

M.B. Tosi does a masterful job of depicting the daily life of one of the gentler tribes as well as the dilemmas they confronted. Her wonderful characters easily draw in the reader and immerse you in their struggles for survival. ~ Regina M. Joseph, author of The Alterran Legacy Series

Author M.B. Tosi once again writes a beautiful reflection of life and love amongst the Native Americans in the mid-1800s. From the intense opening sequence through to the conclusion, The Crimson Path of Honor sheds light on the beliefs, customs and longings of a band of Lakota Indians. Readers will delight in the bravery of protagonist Morning Star, the world that she is brought into and that which she left that beckons to her. Well researched and written, Ms. Tosi offers insights and perspectives into a time that was devastating to the Native Americans. I highly recommend this book to anyone that enjoys historical fiction and a great love story! ~ Julie K. Rubini, author of Hidden Ohio and founder of Claire’s Day, Inc.

Reviews for The Secret Path of Destiny

M.B. Tosi weaves a fascinating story about how the power of love, faith, courage and trusting intuition guides and sustains during extremely challenging situations. ~ Margaret Paul, Ph.D., bestselling co-author of Do I Have To Give Up Me To Be Loved By You and Healing Your Aloneness and co-creator of Inner Bonding®

This beautiful story weaves fascinating Native American history with a romantic twist where the main character’s journey is one of extreme courage, loyalty, love, and forgiveness of those who betrayed and left her physically crippled for life. M.B. Tosi’s geographic and personal descriptions allowed me to insert myself into the story where I experienced everything from laughter to tears. ~ Sheryl Rae Cox, bestselling author of Beings and Doings

"The Secret Path of Destiny begins in the mid-1800s and follows a young American woman’s life, including a beautiful relationship with a Native American of the Comanche tribe during the Indian Wars of the late 1800s. The book provides a wonderful story and is a good read for those of us who wish to know more about the lives of our ancestry." ~ John G. Agno, Executive and Business Coach, author of Boomer Retirement Life Tips and Decoding the Executive Woman’s Dress Code

M.B. Tosi is such a great writer, very descriptive and detailed you can really imagine yourself right there in the book. I am part Native American so that is one of the main reasons this book drew me to it. The lives of the characters in the book are woven into the true events of the times and the book has action, romance, intrigue, and drama all rolled into one. I believe you will love this book and not be able to put it down once you pick it up. ~ Mary Barrett, CountryLife4Me

I was interested in this book because of the Fredericksburg / German / Native references. This was a book I just could not put down. The story never really lets you know what the ending point will be—where will these characters go? You get to really be involved with all of the characters, rooting for the villains and the heroes. Well Done. ~ A. Acord-Wright, Pebblekeeper

I couldn’t put my tablet down. I stayed up way too late, but it was worth it, it was that good! M.B. Tosi is such a great storyteller, so descriptive in detail you can really imagine yourself in the book’s setting. This author is a must read on my list. I hope to read the whole series!!! I’m hooked. ~ Shannon Griffen, Faith, Hope, Love, and Grace

This book was such a great read. M.B. Tosi has a way with words that just entrances you and makes you feel like you are right there in the story watching it unfold almost like a movie. Yes, she’s that great of a writer! I plan on adding her to my list of favorite authors. ~ Jennifer Wedemeyer, Just Wedeminute

Reviews for The Sacred Path of Tears

The author, M.B. Tosi, has done an admirable job of researching the history and social relationships of the Plains Indians and white settlers in Kansas and Colorado in the mid-1800s. This romantic and spiritual adventure chronicles the life of Mokee, a peace-seeking Cheyenne girl, as she makes her way through difficult life transitions during turbulent times. The story was easy to read and difficult to put down. In addition to the satisfying story line and great character development, Tosi weaves in a good deal of history, making this also an educational reading adventure. ~ Arleen Alleman, author of Currents Deep and Deadly: A Darcy Farthing Novel

"The Sacred Path of Tears is an amazing story about a young girl named Mokee who is torn from her family and life because of war between her tribe and the military. She finds refuge with a family in Kansas who teaches her English and civilized customs. When she is truly comfortable in her new life, the old one sneaks up on her and she is forced to choose and fight for her decision. It is an amazing story about love, faith, and heritage. I love stories with a good Christian base and good books on American Indian history. This story is a wonderful blend between the two. ~ S. McQuaid

Dedication

To my readers,

Since my first book was published in 2011, my journey has been so amazing, and that is because of you. Your support has been wonderful for the first four books of The Indian Path Series, making them all bestsellers on Amazon. I’ve enjoyed getting to know many of you and working with book clubs and women’s groups. I especially appreciate the kind reviews you have written on Amazon. There is no greater compliment for an author than a reader taking the time to write a review.

In Book Five, The Solitary Path of Courage, a young woman, known as Sam O’Brien, heads west with her father to the Idaho Territory, where he hopes to become a prospector during the gold rush. Tragedy strikes along the way, and Sam is abandoned at a mission in southern Idaho. When one of her new stepsisters runs off to avoid an arranged marriage, Sam secretly travels to rescue her in the rough-and-tumble boomtown of Lewiston, which is in the heart of gold country. Daring and resourceful, the young woman finds employment as a reporter and boldly makes her way in a man’s world. In this exciting tale of the Old West of the 1870s, Sam becomes embroiled in the struggles of the Nez Perce to remain on their ancestral lands. Torn between her two stepbrothers, the young woman finds love in the midst of danger while reporting on the Nez Perce War and the tribe’s flight to Canada.

Although Sam O’Brien’s life takes place in a different century, the challenges she faces are similar to many challenges today. Abandoned and alone in a violent world, she searches for a way to follow her faith and find a path of peace and love in the midst of war. I hope your lives will be touched by her inner strength and courage. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God’s handwriting.

I’d love to hear from you. Here are several ways to connect with me:

Preface

The Solitary Path of Courage is Book Five of The Indian Path Series, and it’s an exciting tale of the Old West of the 1870s. A young woman, who makes her way in a man’s world as a reporter, finds both love and danger as she courageously reports from the frontlines of the Nez Perce War.

Each book in this bestselling series focuses on a different Native American tribe during the Indian Wars in the late 1800s, and the lives of fictional characters are woven into the true events. In Book One, The Sacred Path of Tears, a young Cheyenne woman in Kansas is torn between two worlds at war and the two men she loves after the Sand Creek Massacre. Book Two, The Secret Path of Destiny, is about the Comanche in Texas and a young German-American girl who seeks refuge with the Comanche when her wicked stepfather pursues her.

In The Crimson Path of Honor, Book Three of The Indian Path Series, a young woman’s life is torn apart by her kidnapping, and she is forced to adapt to a whole new way of life as part of a Lakota band of Indians during the Indian Wars. In Book Four, The Thundering Path of Spirit, a young woman once captured by the Crow Indians finds the courage to return and save her adopted brother’s life at the Battle of the Little Bighorn.

The theme of The Indian Path Series is how to find life’s purpose and a path of peace, love, courage, and faith in times of trouble and danger. As American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow said, If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man’s life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.

By three methods we may learn wisdom:

First, by reflection, which is noblest;

Second, by imitation, which is easiest;

And third by experience,

Which is the bitterest.

Confucius

Introduction

I had been crouched for a long time in the tangy, earthy smelling hayloft, and my baggy pants with patched knees and crumpled plaid cotton shirt were drenched in perspiration. To make matters worse, it felt like a platoon of a hundred fire ants was swarming across my body to the cadence of a silent bugler.

It was probably just some brittle stalks of hay savagely poking through the loosely woven fabric of my hand-me-down garments. Nevertheless, every few minutes I scratched, wriggled, and tunneled my way through the messy piles of hay. It was only when a splintered board noisily groaned under my weight that I became silent.

If the renegade Indians in the cow pasture ventured closer to the barn and heard me, I could be kidnapped, even killed. Earlier when I sprinted to the ramshackle structure for safety, frenzied whooping resonated through the nearby forest. Then galloping horses’ hooves splashed through a shallow creek and wildly pounded on the parched ground near the pasture. I ran for my life!

The sudden ferocity of the small band of Indians was shocking. The local tribes of Nez Perce and Cayuse were known to be peaceful, even good neighbors. Yet rumors abounded in recent days of gold fever striking settlers and Indians alike when gold and silver were discovered on tribal lands.

The endless waiting in the hayloft was unbearable! Patience is not my greatest virtue; in fact, I don’t lay claim to it being my virtue at all. More than anything, I wanted to ease my way out of the prickly hay and steal a look through a broken plank in the roughly hewn wall. But the risk of discovery outweighed my growing crankiness.

Irritably, my lengthy body squirmed back into its prison of hay. My lively imagination added a hoard of spiders and a few field mice to the cavalry of ants fighting for dominance on the moist battleground of my sweating body. At least my vivid thoughts kept me alert and ready to defend myself.

All at once, there was an ominous silence. It not only gave me goose bumps and reminded me of the eeriness of a graveyard tomb overrun with weeds and cobwebs, but it was unnerving after the ear-splitting shrieks of whooping! My heartbeat rhythmically drummed in my ears like tom-toms in a war dance.

Even stranger, the reassuring splotches of midday sun, which had been streaming through the hairline cracks in the barn timbers, began transforming to a malevolent blackness of a threatening thunderstorm. I trembled in fear for what might be happening in the pasture.

In the six months since being coldheartedly dumped in the Idaho Territory, I found the erratic weather to be a cause for alarm. Especially disturbing were the impressive displays of lightning and thunder roaring through the impassable rock formations of the mountains. The sheer vastness of the breathtaking cliffs sent storms ricocheting in every direction and causing climatic chaos, or so it seemed to a city girl like me from Chicago.

Like the volatile weather, the local Native American population was said to be growing unpredictable. I hadn’t lived in Idaho long enough to know much about either the weather or the Indians, but instinct told me it was foolish to take any chances with either one.

For years, the Nez Perce and Cayuse had accepted the presence of white settlers and missionaries in the area. In fact, some regularly attended the Protestant services and even helped with farming chores on the communal mission lands, where I was living with my newly adopted family. Every so often, it seemed something unexpectedly set the local Natives off. Similarly, Native Americans in other parts of the United States became restless when lands were threatened or government promises broken. All guesses were off on what caused the incident in the pasture.

Today’s attack occurred at noon. Earlier in the morning, the missionary compound was a deceptive picture of peace with cows mooing and a sultry breeze blowing through the shade trees. Since ten o’clock, I’d been sprawled on a roughly hewn lawn chair made of coarse wooden slats. With a giant canopy of leafy elm branches over my head, the cooling shade thankfully provided some relief from another sweltering fall day.

It would be inaccurate to describe my activity as relaxing in a lawn chair. I was actually serving the terms of my punishment for throwing a tin cup of water at my insufferable older stepbrother Lukas. Talk about being one of the most pig-headed human beings I’ve ever met!

The morning debacle went down like this. While my stepmother was scrambling eggs at the cast iron stove, Lukas was cracking jokes to his other siblings about my boyish behavior. Although I was peeved, I remained silent. Because I’ve only been part of the Thompson family since spring and my position in the crowded household is precarious at best, I rarely verbalized my complaints.

Getting back to this morning’s episode, throwing water on Lukas’ taunting face was a gratifying necessity. Unbeknownst to me, my older stepbrother innocently pretended to drop a half-eaten piece of bread under the family-sized oaken table. While he was supposedly picking up the crust, he secretly knotted the leather shoelaces of my sturdy work boots together.

When the meal was done, I unsuspectingly stood up and began to stack dishes, or at least that was my intention. Instead, my torso lurched forward as my feet got tangled on a chair leg. Several pottery bowls helplessly toppled from my hands and crashed into shards on the hardwood floor. As if all that weren’t bad enough, I gracelessly sprawled like falling mop, resulting in a huge bruise on my cheek.

My real father, a devout Christian, always taught me to be well-mannered, but this time my enraged response was swift and uninhibited. Looking back, it was actually quite impressive though out of character for me. After letting loose with a colorful string of expletives my father’s railroad cronies regularly used, my entire tin cup of water magically catapulted sideways onto Lukas’ sardonic face. His shocked expression was priceless!

It was a definite lapse in judgment. This is a religious mission, and off-color words and temper tantrums are not tolerated. The entire household was thrown into a full-fledged tizzy, except for my nemesis, Lukas, whose inscrutable dark eyes seemed to glint with admiration at my uncontrolled outburst.

Although it was pleasurable watching beads of water drip through my stepbrother’s thick brown eyebrows, I was actually filled with remorse. Not only had I offended my strict stepmother but also my impressionable younger stepsisters and stepbrother Josh.

As I was preparing an apology, my stepmother jumped into the fracas and reprimanded only me, not the real culprit Lukas. I became stone silent and swallowed any intended words of regret. Completely ignoring the bruise on my cheek or my shoelaces being tied together, she chastised me for my foul mouth and ingratitude toward my new family.

My punishment was to read a lengthy illustrated book on comportment for young ladies in the hope of learning proper manners and ladylike behavior. Lydia Thompson, whom I address according to her specific wishes as Ma’am or Miss Lydia rather than Mother, warned me my lack of manners and poor attitude would prevent me from finding a suitable man to marry someday. Talk about misunderstanding someone! If a man acted like Miss Lydia’s precious son Lukas, who would want one? Not me!

So that is why I was relaxing under the elm trees near the pasture with the aromatic smell of cow patties wafting past my nose. It still seems strange I was learning how to say please and thank you when the Indian raid began.

Because I love writing, I’ve always kept a daily journal. Rather than outwardly losing my temper again, I began filling the journal with maddening stories about my older stepbrother. The truth is that on the very first night when I innocently arrived at the mission settlement, he unapologetically tackled me to the ground and threatened to pulverize me. His excuse was he thought I was an intruder. It was one welcome I’ll never forget!

Later on, he was still enraged I was taking up needed space in his family’s overcrowded log cabin. For days on end, he vengefully trailed me through the compound. One day, he caught me off guard in the communal apple orchard, which was shared with other missionaries in the middle of the sprawling grounds. Like a raving maniac, he began pelting me with rotten apple cores. Since my stepmother was nowhere in sight, I grabbed a fallen tree branch and took up hot pursuit.

Although I’m athletic and tall for a female, it was impossible to catch my six foot six inch behemoth of a stepbrother. When provoked, he resembles a rabid racehorse possessed by the devil. Now if he’d been shorter and stockier like his younger brother Josh, who is sixteen like me, it would have been no contest, and I would have caught him for sure. Plumb tuckered out, I finally gave up the chase!

As my written recollections show, my older stepbrother’s harassment continued nonstop through the unusually hot summer. One of his more memorable offenses occurred when I was fishing for the first time with a birch branch pole. As I was leaning forward to yank a slippery fish out of the rock-bottomed creek, Lukas unmercifully dove like a cannonball into the back of my knees. As his mocking laughter trailed him like a wailing banshee through the forest, I remained sprawled on all fours in the icy mountain water. Getting even with him became my full-time obsession.

Ever since my outburst at breakfast, my stepmother began treating me brusquely. It wasn’t her fault for not understanding my unconventional past. She couldn’t have known my mother died in childbirth, and there had never been a female figure in my life. Not only did I not have lessons in refinement or femininity, but any hint of feminine behavior was the result of mimicking strangers.

I never regretted having only a father, yet how could I explain the necessity of masquerading as a boy for my own protection? As part of a railroad construction crew, my father and I lived in squalid railroad camps around Chicago. In order for me to stay with him, I had to be disguised as a boy in well-worn pants, flannel shirts, work boots, and my dark brown hair lopped off by my ears. It was a rough, dirty, coarse-talking, and sometimes dangerous place to grow up.

Whether it was good or bad, I grew up acting and talking like a no-frills male, even lowering the pitch of my voice to perfect my ruse. I can be blunt, outspoken, and don’t beat around the bush when I have something to say. I’d always decided when the Lord was passing out feminine charms, soft nurturing edges, or flowery language, I was forgotten, and that was fine with me.

Depending on the length of time we stayed in any one construction site, my father secretly enrolled me as a female in the closest parochial school. Over the years, I attended a number of different schools, as my father stressed the importance of learning to read and write, studying the basics of our Christian faith, and learning how to act like a girl for a change.

It was an awkward routine of orientation and being a perennial outsider, and I detested my starched white blouse and pleated plaid skirt that dragged around my ankles. As soon as the brass school bell clanged dismissal, it was back to the comforts of my male clothing and navigating my way back to the railroad construction site.

Unexpectedly, I excelled at reading and writing, and I always could be found with a book in my hand. Most of the time, it kept me out of trouble. One teacher sent a note home saying a diary would help improve my skills. The next afternoon, my father surprised me with a beautiful brown leather journal, which became my most precious possession.

A few years later at another school, two girls became my first female friends. Instead of giving it the mystifying label of friendship, I convinced myself I was conducting research on how girls behaved. After my brief six month stint of research, my conclusions were to avoid giggling and flirting at all costs. It was downright disgusting!

My most valuable lesson was discovering my writing abilities. Teachers at every school gave me encouragement, and I began keeping a secret journal called Journeys with My Father. One day, I hoped to compile enough writings into a book about the itinerant life of traveling with a construction gang from railroad camp to railroad camp.

Reminiscing about my father always brings a profound sense of longing. At times, it feels as if a knife is piercing my chest. When I’m aching for him, grief envelops me like a foggy mist, and my father’s lanky body oddly materializes. Usually, an unruly clump of dark brown hair topples on his weathered forehead, and he smiles his familiar smile. It radiates so much sunshine and warmth that the fog slowly dissipates along with my vision, and reality suffocates the space around me. The truth is simple. Except for the Lord, I’m alone in the world.

People have always said I look like my father, tall and thin with the same dark brown hair, but the resemblance stops there. For the most part, I’m ordinary-looking, like a chameleon blending unnoticeably into any surroundings. My father, on the other hand, was so handsome and filled with life, that he was always well-liked and the center of attention.

It’s uncomfortable to talk about his intense suffering toward the end. Festering inside of me is an open wound that won’t heal. Many times, I’ve prayed my way through my unending heartbreak, but all I hear is silence. It’s difficult to explain what my father meant to me for Shane O’Brien was more than a father. He was my best friend, my only friend, and the center of my entire existence. I loved him more than anyone in the whole world.

Everything I did in life was to please my father. With him gone, the meaning of my life has become blurry. For certain, he would want me to behave as a God-fearing woman and accept my circumstances, not act with ingratitude toward my stepfamily. Rightly or wrongly, I’ve decided never to love anyone again, including my new family, as love hurts too much when it’s gone.

There’s one other more personal reason I refuse to grow close to anyone again. Deep-down, I’m nothing but a charlatan, an imposter. On the surface, my behavior is tough and self-assured, but I’m walking wounded through life, and I truly don’t fit in anywhere. If a stranger would ever unlock the door to my heart, he or she would see how frightened I really am. My only hope for survival is to remain impervious to any emotional attachments.

Somehow, I need to rebuild my life, yet I don’t know how to begin. In your memory, Shane O’Brien, I must try to make the tiniest dent in the world’s surface just to prove I existed and you raised me right. Please, Jesus, if you hear me, help me dream again. Please keep grief from eating away at my soul.

After