by Karen Kay
“Hau, I will do my best.”
“Tell me, grandson, why did you commit such a selfless act?”
Grey Coyote took a moment to collect his thoughts before he answered. “Because, Grandfather, I loved someone else more than I loved myself, even more than my duty to my people.”
“Exactly,” said White Claw. “There was love and only love in your heart. Not revenge. Not duty. Only love. Perhaps that is the answer we all look for. To love someone so greatly we do not even have to think to act. Remember that had our clan loved so well in the past, we would not now be enslaved.”
Grey Coyote bobbed his head in understanding. “I think, Grandfather, that you are right.”
“Perhaps so,” said White Claw. “Perhaps. And now, may I speak with your wife, Little Sunset? For I would answer any questions she might ask of me.”
“Of course,” said Grey Coyote.
White Claw, addressing Marietta, asked, “Have you something you would like to ask me, wife of Grey Coyote?”
Marietta cleared her throat. “Yes, sir, there is. Will these people, who have only now arrived here—will they continue to be real? Will they live their lives out here? Now?”
“Aaah, yes,” confirmed White Claw. “They are now very real. And yes, they will live their lives here, in this time and in this place. And you, granddaughter, will be a part of them, since these are your husband’s people. But he will also be a part of your world, too, for know this. There is still time to accomplish those things in your world that are most dear to your heart.”
Marietta sat momentarily stunned. “You mean I still might be able to claim my inheritance? I might yet be able to restore Rosemead?”
White Claw nodded.
Pressing her lips together, Marietta turned away. There was a tear in her eye.
“Go now,” said White Claw. “Go, knowing that happiness will be forever yours.” With this said, White Claw emptied the ashes from his pipe. “This council is now over.”
All rose, but White Claw alone stepped away from the others. Without looking back, he trod out of the circle and into the light of the morning sun.
Grey Coyote and Marietta watched him until he was no more than a tiny, misty shape. And then all at once, he was gone.
Grey Coyote turned to Marietta and kissed her on the lips, whispering, “I will love you forever.”
Marietta smiled. “And I will always love you too.”
So it was that the two passed into legend. But it is also a part of the legend that, as predicted, they did indeed live a happy life, both in England and in the American West.
Glossary
The following list of terms is provided to assist in understanding and ease of reading:
Assiniboine Indians—A tribe of Indians that was originally a part of the Dakota or Lakota tribe. The Assiniboine spoke the same language as the Lakota. The Assiniboine split off from the tribe many centuries ago, long before the white man came into Indian Territory. They were to be found in the Northwestern United States and Canada, and at the time of this story were a very powerful and numerous tribe.
Cache—A term meaning “to bury goods in the ground for safekeeping.” Usually some symbol was left above ground so the goods could be found again easily.
Count coup—A phrase used to describe an action of touching the enemy; a deed of valor.
Ecenci—A Lakota or Assiniboine term meaning “exactly so”.
Gros ventre—A tribe of Indians located in the Northwestern United States. Their land bordered the Assiniboine.
Haiye—Joy, perhaps upon learning good news.
Han—Lakota for “yes”. Only used by women.
Hau—Lakota for “yes”. Used by men.
Haye-haye—Lakota word for “delight”, as in receiving a gift.
Hiya—Lakota for “no”.
Hokahe—Lakota word used to signal action.
Hehe, hehehe—Lakota word for expressing regret.
Hunhe-hunhe—Lakota word that means “regret”.
Iho—Lakota or Assiniboine word for “look, see”.
Ito—Lakota or Assiniboine word for “come”.
Kakel—Lakota word meaning “thus”.
Kitanla—Lakota word meaning “a little”.
Kola—Lakota or Assiniboine word for “friend”. Usually used between men.
Mackinaw—A type of boat used during this period in history. It was a cheap form of transportation, and it often was seen on the Missouri River.
Minnetaree Indians—Sedentary Indians with permanent mud huts. Their village was on the Knife River, and they grew crops and vegetables.
Ohinni—Lakota word for “always”.
Sece—Lakota word for “perhaps”.
Tula—Lakota word meaning “to be surprised”.
Waste—Lakota word meaning “good”.
About the Author
Author of seventeen American Indian Historical Romances, Karen Kay aka Gen Bailey, has been praised by reviewers and fans alike for bringing the Wild West alive for her readers.
Karen Kay, whose great grandmother was a Choctaw Indian, is honored to be able to write about something so dear to her heart, the American Indian culture.
“With the power of romance, I hope to bring about an awareness of the American Indian’s concept of honor, and what it meant to live as free men and free women. There are some things that should never be forgotten.”
Find Karen Kay online at www.novels-by-karenkay.com.
Look for these titles by Karen Kay
Now Available:
Lakota
Lakota Surrender
Lakota Princess
Proud Wolf’s Woman
Blackfoot Warriors
Gray Hawk’s Lady
White Eagle’s Touch
Night Thunder’s Bride
Legendary Warriors
War Cloud’s Passion
Lone Arrow’s Pride
Soaring Eagle’s Embrace
The Lost Clan
The Angel and the Warrior
Coming Soon:
The Lost Clan
Red Hawk’s Woman
The Last Warrior
Iroquois Warrior
Black Eagle
Seneca Surrender
A dangerous passion.
War Cloud’s Passion
© 2012 Karen Kay
Legendary Warrior, Book 2
At twenty-three, Anna Wiley is lucky. The children aboard an orphan train headed west don’t care that their nurse is too tall, too homely to be loved. They need her, and she will not rest until each one is placed in a loving home, including the last twelve bedraggled, rejected urchins clinging to her skirts.
When their train is attacked by a band of warriors bent on rescuing a kidnapped Indian boy, she doesn’t think twice about protecting the children—all the children, including the boy. Except keeping her charges safe means she must trust the formidable warrior who led the attack.
War Cloud plans to get the strong-willed white woman and her gaggle of children off his hands as soon as possible. Yet as he guides them toward civilization, he realizes there is beauty beneath Anna’s ill-fitting clothes, a strong spirit behind her sparkling green eyes.
Even as passion grows, War Cloud prepares to put her from him, and not only because of the animosity that hangs between their cultures. A centuries-old curse hangs over his ancestral line. A spell that could take her from him forever—should he dare to fall in love.
This book has been previously published.
Warning: Contains a passion that could lead to soul-stirring love, if the whispering ancestors have their way.
Enjoy the following excerpt for War Cloud’s Passion:
What was it about this man? she wondered. What was it that made her want to reach out toward him, yet crawl away from him at the same time?
Surely, it was a strange sensation, given their circumstances, and yet Anna could not look away. What was happening?
Anna did turn aw
ay, however, as though in defense…against what?
“You felt it.”
The soft masculine words came from directly behind her. But she did not turn around.
“Felt what, sir?” Anna said.
“The beauty of this place has stirred your spirits, has it not?”
“I…I do not know what you are talking about.”
She heard the harsh snort in his voice and forced herself to keep from turning around, from confronting him with perhaps the validity of her feelings.
He said, “You are just like all white people, I think. You cannot speak the truth even when it is obvious to you.”
Anna could not say a word. Instead, she found herself looking straight to the horizon, and unconsciously, she moaned. He was right and she did not know why she could not just admit it.
Perhaps the experience was too new. Perhaps she did not trust him with so vulnerable an emotion when she did not even understand it herself. Perhaps it was none of these things.
All she knew was that something about this land was taking hold of her. And Anna could not decide if it was for good or for bad.
When she did not speak right away, this tall brave uttered another grumble and she heard his footsteps moving away.
“Sir?” Quickly she spun around. “Sir, I think that you do me a disservice.”
He did not pivot to confront her.
“Sir, a moment please.”
He stopped, although his posture said that he was anything but amenable.
She began, “You say that I am like all the others of my race. Yet, for a few moments tonight, I think I began to understand what is going on here. You are right, I did feel…something stirring in my soul. I do not know why I could not say it a few moments ago, except that perhaps my feelings were too new, too personal, and you, sir, are a stranger.”
He looked over his shoulder for a moment, muttered a gruff, “Humph,” and glanced away.
She continued, “I think I understand now why the Indians fight so hard to keep this land and their way of life.”
He did not utter a word and she took a few cautious steps forward.
“Please correct me if I am wrong, but for a moment here tonight, sir, I think I discovered how the land and the beauty of this place could creep into the soul and the heart of a culture.”
Impetuously she padded up to him, and had to stand on her tiptoes to murmur into his ear, “Sir, am I not right to believe, then, that your people love this land and want to keep it the same as it has always been?”
She watched as his muscles grew tense.
She touched his shoulder. “Sir.” She was whispering now. “I, too, have tonight witnessed the beauty of this place. And I think that, although I am a newcomer, I speak the truth. The land, nature, the wind and the soil are a part of your people’s makeup, a part of their soul, while these same things are perhaps nothing more than assets to be used, sold or bartered by the newcomers.”
She could feel his muscles grow stiff beneath her touch, and it was almost more than she could do to keep herself from massaging all that brawn.
He, however, did not speak, did not react, did nothing at all, and she sighed, returning to stand full-footed upon the ground. She drew back her hand, turned away.
“Nahkohe-tseske.” He spun around, made a grab at her arm under her elbow and drew her back. As though the wind were in conspiracy with her desire, its blasts whipped up behind Anna, whisking her forward, propelling her into his arms.
Both of them grew quiet. Neither of them moved, Anna fearing even to breathe.
His head came down toward her. Did he mean to kiss her?
Excitement struck her unexpectedly, overwhelming her with a frenzy of hunger so intense, she could barely breathe. And with a shudder she realized that she wanted that kiss; she wanted that embrace and she felt herself grow weak.
Did he desire her, too? No, it couldn’t be possible that he might feel the same for her, yet…
Gently, his forehead met hers while his hands came up to caress her cheeks as though she were more precious than porcelain china. She closed her eyes. She dared not think; she dared not even stir. She moaned instead, not being able to suppress it. She had never felt more under a person’s spell than she did at this moment.
Yet, to her surprise, she came alive, becoming aware of little things that she had, perhaps, never noticed before. The air smelled crisper, the earth beneath her feet felt more solid, the softness of the night held more warmth. Fleetingly, she could sense the blood pounding through her body, could perceive the rhythm of life flowing within her, and without conscious thought, she experienced a sensation of herself as a spirit growing larger, as though a mere body could not hold that which she was.
Oddly, the universe in which she lived seemed a more vibrant and real universe at this moment than at any time she could remember. And she became fleetingly aware of the life all around her, even to the grasses, which grew so high and green, as they sprang up in the wind, to touch and tickle her ankles.
Truly, she felt above herself, witnessing the sky as though its vastness were mere child’s play; the peal of thunder, the wonder of lightning as no more than a toy. And all the while beauty, peace and harmony settled into her soul.
Another flash of lightning, followed by a crisp clap of thunder dispelled the illusion, had her remembering where she was. As she glanced up into this tall brave’s eyes, she consciously brought back to mind exactly who she was; who he was and where they were.
She cleared her throat, muttered a low, “Sir,” and stepped out of his embrace.
She gazed away from him, from the spot in his arms where she had been, and said, “What sort of game do you play with me, sir?”
He did not answer, which gave her little choice but to continue, “I know that I am not an attractive woman and yet you have offered marriage to me.” She stiffened her spine. “Sir, tell me true. Is it your intention to use me?”
When he did not answer, she glanced at him. But all she could witness upon his face was a curious look, one of eyebrows raised in question.
She drew in a deep breath. “All right,” she said. “I suppose I must be forthright and speak what I mean quite bluntly. Sir, do you intend to have your way with me?”
Still he did not answer.
She shot a glimpse at him and raised her voice. “To abuse me?” She waved her arms. He crossed his own over his chest, still suspiciously silent.
She shut her eyes and plunged. “To have sex with me, sir? That is what I am saying.” She peeped an eye open to steal a look at him and muttered quietly, “To pretend marriage to me only to have sex?”
She did not know how it was possible, but his dark eyes changed color, transforming into a deeper, gloomier glare. At length, however, a slow smile lit his face.
She said, “It is no joke, sir, and may I remind you that it is only fair of you to make your intentions known to me.”
His smile didn’t diminish as he slowly brought his hand up to her cheek, the backs of his fingers gently stroking her skin. But she drew back from the tender graze as though stung.
Their eyes met, held, dueled. A moment danced before them as they stared, the look between them carnal and searing. She could not have looked away had she meant to, and she did not mean to. He held her captive while one moment followed upon another, until at last, without so much as a single word being uttered, he turned and trod away.
An unexpected journey leads to the love of her life…
Texas Lucky
© 2013 Maggie James
On her way out West to marry a man she had never met, Tess Partridge found herself a prisoner in a makeshift jail. Her cellmate, darkly handsome Curt Hammond, was a man accused of cold-blooded murder. Bonded together through their captivity, they must go their separate ways when they make their escape.
Alone on a strange, unforgiving frontier, Tess must find a way to survive—and thrive. And when chance brings Curt back into her life, Tess is no longer
able to deny her love for him.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Texas Lucky:
The stagecoach struck another gopher hole in the road, and Tess bounced so high she nearly struck her head on the roof. Her bonnet slipped to one side, and just as she tried to straighten it, she was thrown to the side.
“Gracious, Sam, do we have to go so fast?” She leaned out the window to call up to the driver. “I’m getting bumped to pieces down here.”
He spat a wad of tobacco juice, and she ducked back just in time to avoid being hit as he yelled down, “We’re almost there, missy. I guess the horses smell that cold beer a-waitin’, ’cause it’s all I can do to hold ’em back.”
“Cold beer, indeed,” she muttered with a disgusted sniff, settling back against the worn leather seat. Out of all the drivers she had encountered during the arduous trip west from Philadelphia, Sam Conch had been the most uncouth. His partner, Rooney Wessner, was no better. They were both as dirty and unkempt as the stagecoach itself, but since they were private hire, she supposed she could not expect much better. After all, the stationmaster back in Prescott had explained how difficult it was to get to her destination—a watering hole, as he had called it, for prospectors in from the desert and drovers traveling to and from cattle drives. Devil’s Eye, Arizona, she had been told, was truly in the middle of nowhere.
Glumly, she stared out at the desert glistening in the late afternoon heat of the April sun. Giant saguaro cactus with their fluted columns of plant flesh, shaped and sized in as many different ways as humans, dotted the landscape in every direction. In the distance, a vast carpet of verbena and golden poppies trailed up the mountain slopes.
It all looked so lonely and desolate, which was exactly how she felt, for it had not been a journey she had wanted to make. Still, she was anxious to get it over with, anxious to meet Saul Beckwith…the man her father had sold her to.
Sold.
It was an ugly description of the situation, but she could think of it in no other way, because that was exactly what her father had done. He had taken money from Saul Beckwith in exchange for forcing her to marry him.