Savage Ecstasy

Book 1: Gray Eagle Series

by Janelle Taylor

Genres: Historical Fiction; Historical Romance; Western Romance

Synopsis

Kiss of the night wind. . .Whispered kisses. . .Follow the wind. . . The novels of Janelle Taylor sparkle with her unique blend of adventure and passion. And her unforgettable tale of the warrior Gray Eagle and his beloved Alisha is perhaps the most special of all. For it begins one of the most romantic and memorable sagas ever written. . . Savage Ecstasy It was like lightning striking, the first time they looked into each other's eyes: Gray Eagle, the captured Indian brave, and Alisha, the beautiful young settler. As the proud Oglala warrior was being tortured by his white captors, only Alisha seemed to notice that he was a human being--handsome and strong, and one who took her breath away. But if Alisha could have read Gray Eagle's thoughts she would have been even more disturbed. Because from the moment he saw her, the Indian knew he had to possess the fair-skinned one--and his life would not be complete until he had made her his slave!

Release date: October 24, 2011

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 532

Sample

Alisha opened the door to their small, one-room cabin and stepped outside to absorb the warmth of the sunlight. The fragrant scents of verdant nature and late spring flowers floated in the balmy air. The bright sun beamed down on the fortress yard, which was cluttered by many one-room cabins, each an exact replica of the ones surrounding it. Only the varying colors of curtains fluttering in and out of open windows or a rugged work bench attached to the side wall of certain cabins marked minute differences to the naked eye. She recalled how quickly and efficiently the cabins had been constructed. The men had insisted on speed, size and style to provide the needed protection against weather and the precious privacy denied on the trail.

She inhaled the fresh breeze from the surrounding forest that gently blew over the tall, spiked fence and through the slightly open gate, cooling its occupants as they labored and played.

She was thinking of how very different it was here from what she had imagined or had been told. She laughed lightly to herself as she recalled visualizing vast wastelands and tangled forests, filled with clutching vines and thick underbrush. She remembered the tales she had heard about huge, strange beasts and heathen red savages who ran around half-naked, performing terrible rituals and deeds against the whites and other tribes.

Instead, she had found dense green forests; lazy, rolling hills; majestic rock formations; winding rivers and lucid, sparkling streams. She pictured the prairies and vast grasslands that stretched far as the eye could see, acres dotted with small, flowering bushes and mangled trees. She had discovered rugged landscapes which were covered with various sizes and types of cacti and white yuccas.

She wondered how long it would remain this way with groups such as theirs and others ever pressing westward, how long it would be before those great plains she saw would be filled with sheep and cattle. How long before the forests were cut down for lumber needed for homes and new towns or cleared for farms and fields? How long before this wilderness succumbed to progress and change and this very spot was another Liverpool or Harrisburg? It saddened her to think that someday this beauty and splendor would no longer exist. She thought this land should inspire the peace and freedom they all hungered and searched for—but would it?

She hugged the stoop post, swaying back and forth, thinking how wonderful her new life would be. Her mind flitted from one thought to another as a bee from flower to flower collecting nectar. Her thoughts briefly settled on the huge, hairy creature the scout had called a buffalo. She had seen a herd spread out for miles and miles against the blue horizon on the open plains, covering the vast grasslands like a giant, black carpet. She recalled how a sudden stampede had sounded like roaring thunder, shook the ground and was heard and felt for miles. The scout had told her how the Indians hunted them, using their skins for clothing, shelter and shoes; and their bones, hooves, horns and entrails for sewing, tools, utensils and numerous other purposes. He had commented that many tribes depended almost solely on them for everything they needed to sustain life as they knew and lived it.

Lazily Alisha looked around the enclosure at the women as they went about their daily chores and tasks while the small children played. She quickly turned her face away from the place where two men were gutting and skinning a beautiful, white-tailed deer. She wondered why that task could not have been done outside the fortress walls. She watched the strong muscles in the backs of several men flex and strain as they chopped firewood. Many others were going about their chores oblivious to the others around, caught up in their own little worlds of thoughts and work.

She glanced through the half-open gate into the forest and sighed lightly. With June almost over, spring still lingered on the land. She remembered how glorious fall had been and how terribly harsh and cold the winter. This climate was so different from the one back home in Liverpool. She recalled how her mother had hated the fog and cold, damp mist and would constantly ask to go to the South of France during those worst seasons. How she would have loved this warm sunshine, the fresh air and skies the color of periwinkle satin and heather. A note of sadness touched her heart and spirit at these thoughts and memories.

Oh, Mama, her heart cried out, why did you and Papa have to die so young and leave me alone? Why couldn’t life go on as before? It wasn’t fair… such a terrible waste … tears glistened in her eyes for a few moments before she could bring her emotions under control.

Alisha wondered what happiness and surprises this new land and year of 1776 held in store for her and the others. Little did she suspect that in just a short time an event would shatter and change her life and thoughts for all time, that all she knew and loved would be cruelly torn from her. Her innocence about life and human nature would leave her unprepared to face the brutality and the drastic changes that she would be forced to witness and endure.

She stood leaning against the post in a dreamlike trance, reminiscing about old times and planning new ones. Suddenly she became aware of the loud yells and commotion outside the fortress walls that steadily increased in nearness and pitch. The gate was shoved wide open and she saw a sight that she would long remember.

She stared at the scene in disbelief and astonishment. Some of the men from the fortress were bringing an Indian brave into the center of the yard. He was being pulled forward like an animal by a rope around his neck and with his hands bound tightly behind his back. The raucous group brought many others running forward to see what was going on. They pointed at the brave as they talked excitedly amongst themselves. Some of the men taunted him and shouted insults at him. Others struck blows and pulled at his braids. He was shoved from side to side roughly as in some game of tug-of-war. She couldn’t believe what she witnessed with her own eyes and ears.

Ben Frazer, a burly blacksmith from Virginia, yanked on the rope, yelling, “Come on, you savage! Stop that dawdling or I’ll break yore neck.”

At Ben’s movement, the brave stumbled and nearly fell. As he straightened up, he jerked his head backwards with powerful neck muscles, causing Ben to drop the other end of the rope. Ben cursed him as he leaned over to retrieve it. Like a flash of lightning, the brave brought his knee up with a smashing blow under Ben’s chin. Ben yelled out in pain as he spit blood onto the brave’s chest and drew back his fist and delivered a heavy blow into his stomach. Much to Ben’s surprise and anger, the only two noticeable effects of the blow were an exhalation of air and a slight backwards movement.

Ben shook his fingers painfully and shouted jokingly to those nearby, “Damn! He’s got a gut of iron. ‘Most near broke me hand.” Then he slowly added, “We’ll just see if’n his back is made of iron.”

Jed McDoogan, who Alisha thought looked and acted like a weasel, pranced around him, taunting and shouting, “Blarney! If he ain’t a puck! Just look at that face, boys. Why it’s enough to scare the hair clear off’n me head.”

Horace Swint, the fortress’s self-appointed Don Juan, grabbed his braids and forced him to face him. He studied him for a minute, then agreed. “Yore right, Jed. I kin feel me hair jumping up and down in fear. Just look at that face! He must think he can scare us to death with just a look. Well, he won’t be so brave or silent when we’ve finished with him,” he threatened boldly.

Ben joined the laughter and shouted above the noise, "I bet we have him begging for mercy within an hour. Just you wait and see if’n it ain’t so.”

“Shucks,” Horace yelled. “I bet it only takes a few minutes. I’ll wager you my best gun if it takes more’n half an hour to break him.”

Jed whispered, “You think maybe we could do some of them Injun tortures on him? Give ‘im a taste of his own medicine? I know of a few things I’d like to try on him. Couldn’t do ‘em here in front of the women folk, though.” They all exchanged knowing looks and laughed heartily. “Why don’t you see just how tough he is, Ben? Put a little squeeze on ‘im.”

Ben began to tighten the rope around the brave’s neck until his face began to discolor and his chest began to show signs of struggling for air. No one tried to stop the malicious actions of the men. Hatred thick as smoke permeated the air. Alisha wondered what had come over these people. They acted as if they had captured a rabid animal. Why?

Many of the people were running about wildly, yelling and shouting. Bedlam had broken loose in the fortress and confusion ruled. They swarmed around him like the sharks had done the rancid meat dumped overboard from the ship on the way over here. What was possessing these people to behave this way? They showed him no mercy or humanity with any of their words or actions to him. As with any mob, sanity and reason had fled and there would be no stopping them. Still, she knew that she must try to do something, anything and alone….

She ran to Ben. “Stop it!” she screamed at him. “He can’t breathe! You’re choking him, Ben! No!” She slapped at his hands and tried to grab the rope. She shouted at him again, “Ben, you can’t do this! Let him go! Stop it now before it’s too late! Please…”

Seeing her look of anger and disbelief, Ben loosened the rope and spoke to her in childlike innocence, “Aw, Miss Alisha, we was only having fun. We ain’t gonna kill him yet.”

She looked at the brave to be sure that he was all right. He breathed heavily but his color had returned to normal quickly. She turned to Ben and said, “Strangling a man isn’t my idea of fun, as you call it. You could have killed him! Why? I don’t understand what this is all about. What did he do?”

Horace piped up acidly, “This ain’t no man! This here’s a real, live, heathern, bloodthirsty savage. Women should keep their pretty noses outa men’s business. This ain’t none of yore concern. Go back to your cabin and stay out of it.”

Alisha glared at his face so full of hate and contempt for the brave and asked, “Just what did he do to you, Horace?”

He snarled angrily, “He’s alive and an Injun, that’s enough for me!”

She studied his hate-distorted features in amazement, then inquired, “You mean that you hate him and would kill him simply because he’s an Indian?”

Horace gave her a quick, concise, “Yep!”

Alisha retorted, “That’s barbaric! And you call him the savage? That’s really pathetic, Horace. But then again, so like you…”

Horace flashed her a look of warning and said, "Don’t press me, Alisha.”

She quipped back instantly, “Don’t call me Alisha! Only my friends can do that.” The jab hit home and he flamed at the insult.

Ben intervened at that point. “Miss Alisha, maybe you best go inside if it bothers you to witness punishment.”

“Punishment!” she shrieked. “For what?”

“For being an Injun,” Horace shouted back at her. "Now stop your interfering or I’ll personally see to it that you do.”

She glared at him and whispered, “If you ever touch me again, I’ll…”

Ben warned, “I told you once before, Horace, leave her be.” The two men exchanged looks and Horace backed down once more.

The brave remained motionless and silent while they argued over what was to be done with him. Alisha argued, threatened and pleaded against all their suggestions, but was ignored and slowly pushed backwards by the circle of spectators that tightened around the scene. She prayed for her uncle and the others to return soon. She knew the men were not thinking clearly and the group would soon be out of control.

The men decided that first they would flog him with thirty lashes.

Thirty, she thought, horrified. Men have died from less than twenty. I must do something! But what? I’m no match against all these strong men.

The men began to pull him toward the post used to butcher game. Ben was tugging on the rope, trying to drag him to it. The brave held back and resisted with all his might every step of the way. Jed and Horace shoved and pushed him from behind at each delay and hesitation.

Aggravated and angry, Horace suddenly laughed sardonically and tripped him. With quick nimbleness and alertness, the brave flipped in mid-air and landed on his side rather than face down in the dirt. As he was going down, the rope tightened around his neck and he choked and coughed. Swiftly he bounded back to his feet before Horace could deliver a vicious kick into his side. He crouched like a puma about to spring and faced his antagonist with eyes that blazed in unconcealed fury and hate. Horace drew back slightly as he watched the brave’s jaw grow taut and the muscles in it quiver. His eyes narrowed and flamed dangerously at the men, who overlooked this warning and would live to regret this day and its events.

Squeals of delight and laughter filled the air. Taunts and jests flew from all directions at his apparent helplessness. “Been drinking too much firewater, Injun?” “They just don’t grow Injuns like they used to.” “I bet he ain’t bathed in à year or more. What’cha say we give ‘im a bath, boys?” “Ben, you oughta teach yore Injun some manners.” “Hey! how about doing us a little war dance, redskin?” “Heck! I’d like to hear some chanting and praying.” “Who’s yore tailor, boy? That’s really some nifty garb. I bet we could win us a prize with that outfit over in Paris, France.” “Somebody get us some paint and we’ll fix his face up right for a change.” “Yeh! And paint a yellow strip down the coward’s back.” The ribbing went on and on until Horace became the center attraction with his antics.

He yelled out, “Watch this!” At that, he stiffened his body, held his head high and tried to mock the brave’s dignified stance and tried to calm his grinning face to mock his stoical mask. He could do neither.

New bursts of laughter rippled the air and others joined in the gestures and tried amidst howling laughter and encouragement to imitate his walk, stance and facial expression. Catcalls, hoots and hisses filled the air like sirocco winds from the desert during a sand storm.

The brave alertly observed each man and his moves as he stood erect and proud before his enemies. His contempt of them and of the danger he was in was clearly written on his face, and this inflamed the men. His confidence and prowess stung their pride and they tried harder to provoke some emotion, reaction or outburst from him. He rewarded their attempts with silence and stillness.

They pranced around taunting him, but he only stared back in haughty arrogance. The men became more and more piqued by his lack of response to their words and actions. They wanted him to resist or show fear. Their egos demanded that he be broken or humbled before they killed him. Gray Eagle rebuffed all their intimidations and tricks. They refused to recognize the leashed violence and strength of mind and body that he held in such tight control. If they had looked beyond the surface, they would have cringed in fear and respect at what they would have seen.

Horace snarled, “Let’s get on with this. We’ve wasted enough time. He ain’t gonna beg yet. Let’s just see if’n he bleeds the same color as us. Hell! maybe his blood is as black as that damned heart of his.”

Jed shouted, “Tie the bastard face forward! I want to see his expression when he feels the bite of the whip. I want him to have to look us in the face when he pleads for mercy and screams with pain.”

Ben remarked, “Maybe I can wipe that smug look off’n his purty face with a few well-aimed snaps of my bull whip.”

Alisha pushed and shoved until she managed to get through the crowd. She lunged for Ben’s hand and missed. She persisted until she was able to grab the arm of the giant man holding the rope securely in his powerful grip.

“You mustn’t do this, Ben! Uncle Thad wouldn’t permit such inhumane treatment. No one deserves this kind of cruel abuse, not even him. Please, don’t do this terrible thing,” she pleaded with him and the others close by.

But no matter what she said or how, the group continued its relentless onslaught of words and actions. Sneers and taunts became’bolder and louder, “Dirty Injun!” “You’re nothing but a filthy, murdering redskin!” “I say we kills him!” “No! Hang ‘im!” “Cut out his tongue like they did ole Timkins…” “Hanging’s too good for the devil.” “Get the whip and give ‘im the licking of his life …” “Tie him to the hitchin’ post and beat him to death.” “Let me at ‘im. I’ll fix him up good.”

Talk was running wild and loose and no amount of reasoning or begging seemed to penetrate the vengeance-crazed minds of the men. All the anger, fear and hatred they knew and felt seemed to be centered upon this one man and this moment in time.

Alisha wondered what had sent them to the brink of madness with his capture. They were acting and talking like he was the Genghis Khan of the West. Was this how it had been with Anne Boleyn, Sir Thomas Beckett, or Joan of Arc? Was this how their mobs had screamed for their blood and heads? Were they not as guiltless as he appeared to be? Had there been others like her, forced to watch helplessly?

She had been told about the hatred and differences between the white man and Indian, but she had never before confronted it. They were ready to tear him limb from limb. She had never witnessed such uncalled-for behavior and violence to another. This whole situation went against her beliefs and teachings. How could his being an Indian provoke such hatred and anger from these people?

She watched as the men dragged him over to the post and tied him tightly face forward. Jed fetched the whip, demanding to be the first to inflict some lashes on him. Others grabbed at the whip handle begging for the same honor.

Ben, being the largest and most pçwerful man present, took the whip and stated, “I’m first! They’ll be enough skin on his red arse for all of us to peel some off and leave some for the buzzards.”

Alisha made one last desperate plea for mercy and common sense. “How can you people ever hope to have peace and friendship with them when you treat them like this? Can’t you see this will only cause more trouble and hatred? Wait for Uncle Thad to come back, Ben. He’ll know what is best to do. Please…”

Horace snapped, “Who wants peace and friendship with those redskins? Best thing we could do is to wipe them all out and our problems solved for good. Besides, no one asked for your opinion anyway.”

Alisha stared at him incredulously and said, “Horace, you can’t mean that! You don’t know what you’re saying. That would be cold-blooded murder!" But she could read in his face that he did understand and mean what he said.

Jed shouted, “Horace, keep her out of the way! Hold her or something. She ain’t got no part in this business. Let’s get on with this, me lads.”

Alisha was seized and held in Horace’s strong grip. The whip rose and fell with a loud snap and pop. Alisha flinched at the gruesome sight and cried, “Let me go, Horace! I can’t watch. I’ll be sick …” she stammered.

He was tempted to force her to stay and watch but decided against it. If she did get sick, it might stop the action and he surely didn’t want that. Reluctantly he released her and watched her flee to her cabin. It had been very nice to hold her so close for even such a short time, to feel the heat of her body next to his and to have her under his control. Too bad they hadn’t been alone… he would not have been so curt and tough with her. Why wouldn’t she allow him to be gentle and nice to her? Why did she provoke him into behaving that way to her every time? One day she will come around, he thought. I’ll have her yet if it’s the last thing I do. In time, Alisha, in time…

Again the whip sang out and cut a fresh, bloody gash across the brave’s chest. Unexpectedly, Alisha appeared between Ben and the brave with a loaded, primed gun in her hands. Horace was infuriated by her daring interruption and her open concern for the Indian. He halted instantly and paled as she turned the gun on him as he began to advance toward her. How dare she! he fumed to himself.

“No more,” she stated firmly, “or I’ll shoot the first man who tries. Uncle Thad will deal with this when he returns. Put the whip down, Ben.”

Horace moved again and she lowered the weapon to aim directly into his stomach. She warned, “Don’t try it, Horace. You’re the very man I’d have no qualms about shooting. I won’t stand by and watch you beat him to death.”

His face flamed in embarrassment and rage, but he didn’t dare call her bluff. She held that gun like she knew how to use it and would. How dare she defend that scum and humiliate him like this before the others! He would set her straight later about a few things.

Jed suggested, “If we all rush her at one time, we could easily take her. She can’t get off but one shot and that probably couldn’t hit the side of a barn.”

Alisha glared at him and retorted, “I assure you, Mr. McDoogan, that one of you would be shot in the attempt. Do any of you dare chance who it will be? Will you take that risk?’ she openly challenged him. While she had their full attention, she said, “All of you know that this is wrong. We’re supposed to be the civilized people, but look how we’re acting—like wild animals with a scent of blood and out for the kill. All I ask is that you wait for Uncle Thad and the others.”

No one moved or argued with her. She stepped a little to the side. Holding the gun securely, she took a sideways glance at the Indian. Two red slashes crossed his chest. Welts were just beginning to rise. The brave had never winced or moved, nor had his facial expression changed from its arrogant, cold stare at Ben and the other men.

He had said nothing since being forced to walk into the fortress. He glared at his captors with inky black eyes filled with contempt and fury. He surely was a handsome man, and so very brave…

Abruptly, she was seized by two rough hands and the gun fired harmlessly into the sky. Horace whispered in her ear, “If you had not been so enchanted with the brave, Alisha, you coulda had your revenge. Too bad…”

Her eyes blazed spite at him. She struggled vainly in his tight grip. “Let me go!” she screamed at him. “You’ll be sorry for this. Just wait and see. One day you’ll push someone too far and they’ll kill you. I despise you, you scoundrel!”

He laughed in her face and dragged her back to the edge of the crowd. “Sick!” he mocked her. “This time you’ll watch, sick or not. You’ll watch him die!” he threatened boldly.

As the whip rose for the third strike, a deep voice bellowed out, “What’s amiss here? We heard a shot.” Observing the scene that confronted him, Thad inquired, “Who’s responsible for this? I don’t agree to horsewhipping a man and especially not on his chest. Whose idea was this?”

The whip stopped in mid-air and was slowly lowered to the ground. “We’s dealing out a little justice to this here Injun,” Ben quickly informed him.

Ben always seemed a little edgy when confronted with men in command like Thad, who represented leadership and the law. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have even bothered to defend himself or his actions. He would have simply clobbered any man who dared to interfere in his affairs. It galled him to yield to any man, but he did when he had to.

“We caught us an Injun sneaking around in the woods,” Jed stated at Ben’s hesitance.

“Probably planning an attack. I bet he was checking out our defenses and strength,” Thomas added.

Many of the others began to shout answers and comments at the same time. Thad raised his hand for silence and said, “One at a time. You start, Ben, since you seem to be at the crux of it all.”

Hesitantly, Ben began, “Like they said, Thad, we was out hunting and come upon this here Injun. He had hisself caught in one of Jed’s rope snares and was trying to cut hisself free. We captured him, tied him up and brung him here.” Ben shifted on his left foot as he watched the effect of his explanation on their appointed leader. Then, he continued defensively, “Hell, Thad, he’s just a dirty redskin. Let’s kill ‘im now and it’ll be one less savage to worry about attacking us later.”

Thad thought for a minute and asked, “Have you tried to talk with him? Any of you guess which tribe he’s from? Didn’t anybody try to find out who he is or what he was doing out there?”

“What difference does that make, Thad? An Indian’s an Indian! ‘Sides, he can’t talk or won’t. He knows our fortress and how many people are here. We can’t let him go now,” Ben argued.

“I keep telling all of you that not all Indians are our enemies.” Thad was disgusted and exasperated. “Many of them are our friends and have helped us. We can’t just capture one of them and kill him for no good reason. First, we should make sure that he’s a threat to us. Besides, he wouldn’t know our defenses if you men hadn’t brought him in here. He might be a valuable hostage,” Thad finished quietly.

“Come on, Thad. You know them Injuns don’t trade for hostages. They prefer to die if fool enough to get caught. Something about their pride and face,” Ben retorted hotly.

“That’s pure poppycock, Ben! No man wants to die needlessly.” Such prejudice and bullheadedness! Thad thought. “Untie him and lock him in the smokehouse until we can discuss this more calmly and reasonably. Then we’ll decide what to do with him and this messy situation.”

So amidst the disappointed grumbles and bickering, Ben, Jed and Thomas cut him free from the post and pulled him by the neck rope to the smokehouse. They not only locked him in, but staked him out spread-eagled upon the hard ground, tying his hands to the stakes so tightly that his circulation was nearly cut off. Ben was cursing under his breath as he worked.

Gray Eagle made no moves to stop the men, knowing he could not attempt an escape yet. But he had been in tougher spots before and gotten away. He would be free of this one soon and return to punish them all. He silently accepted their rough handling and insults for now and offered them no resistance.

Thomas shivered involuntarily and commented, “Γd sure like to know what he’s thinking. He has the eyes of the Devil himself. Gives me the creeps just to touch him. You think there’s any more of them out there?”

“I wish you’d a killed him before Thad returned,” Jed said coldly. “We could have, too, if it had’na been for that consarned niece of his. Damn her good intentions! I’d like to give her a whack or two for good measure.”

Thomas piped up quickly, “That ain’t what you say when she takes up for you or helps you, Jed. You know why she did what she did. She just don’t know these Injuns like we do. Just give her a little time, she’ll come around and hate ‘em same as we do. You wait and see,” he vowed confidently.

“Hell, we shoulda done what we did the last time. Too bad he was travelling alone, right, Ben?” Jed spoke mysteriously to Ben, who understood his meaning and laughed.

Gray Eagle’s eyes did not reveal the intense anger that boiled inside. He realized if he had not been so excited by the thoughts of overtaking his father’s enemy, he would not have been caught in the wasichu snare by his carelessness. He knew it was dangerous to let his anger and hate blind his eyes and ears in the forest. Now, that sunka ska would escape and not feel the point of his blade in his evil heart. The wasichus will pay for this interference with my tracking and killing of the man who shot my a’ta, he threatened them mentally. I will kill them all, sunka skas! They will no longer kill my people or destroy our lands. This I promise you, Wakantanka…

Thomas asked, “Wonder what Thad’ll do with him? Sometimes he’s a mite too gentle and easily tricked by that kind nature.”

Ben reasoned, “Hell, what can he do ‘sides kill him now? Can’t afford to let him go and have his whole tribe come down on us.”

Having secured his bonds, the three men left. Gray Eagle spat after them. He quickly tested the strength of the bonds and found them too strong and tight to loosen or break. He would have to bide his time until his opening came.

When Thad had noticed Horace’s grip on Alisha, he had demanded an explanation. Alisha jerked free as Horace loosened his grasp on her arms and delivered a stunning slap to his face. He glared at her for a moment, nearly returning the gesture, but turned and stalked off.

Alisha gave an account of the events before his arrival. “Uncle Thad, it was awful. I believe they would have beaten him to death if you had not arrived in time to stop it. Why are they so filled with hate and violence toward him and other Indians?”

“Now, child, don’t judge the people so harshly. You haven’t seen the havoc and cruelties these Indians have been accused of inflicting on the whites.” Thad raised his hand for silence as she was about to interrupt. “Listen a moment more. Some of these people have lost friends, family members, and homes during raids. I have heard of terrible tortures committed against whites. Women have been attacked, people killed or taken prisoner and homes and farms burned and looted. We’ve only been here a short time, and you’re still unaware of what these people are really like. We tried to make peace with them, but they repay us with death and violence. They seem to understand only strength.”

“An offer of peace would carry little weight when written in Indian blood, Uncle Thad. If we treat all the Indians the way we did him today, I can understand why they hate us and don’t want us here. We acted more savage than he did. We are the intruders here in their lands and forests. If there is no way to have peace between us, then why do we stay?” Alisha was confused at the illogic of the situation. “If both sides hate and reject the other, but neither will give in or offer peace, the only outcome can be more death and destruction,” she said sadly. “Like today…”

Thad answered calmly, “When we’ve been here a little longer, you will love and want this land and life as much as I do. We came here for a new beginning, Lese. We wanted to escape the war and tyranny in England and back on the Colony Coast. Couldn’t you feel the noose tightening on the Colonists’ necks? Life was becoming stifling and confining. They’ve been fighting small skirmishes with the British for a long time now and soon a real war will begin. There will be killing, hunger and ravished lands and homes. You’re aware that England is imposing harsh and unfair tariffs and laws on this new land. They will rebel soon, Lese. You mark my words. Men take these things for so long and then they are forced to fight and protect the things they have worked for and built. They have come too far to back down to the Mother Country now. Neither the British nor the Americans are going to give in. War will soon be inevitable. They’ll not only have to fight the Mother Country, but some of the Indians as well. Many sided with the British before and will again when it comes to war. Out here, we will be safe from all of that.”

“I’m not so sure that is all true. Most of what you have said, Uncle Thad, applies out here between the Indians and the whites. This is their Mother Country and they are fighting to protect it from us. War will be inevitable here someday! Aren’t we being unfair to the Indian? Aren’t we asking for too much and in the wrong way? I know there is much that I do not know or understand, but what I do see and hear is wrong and unjust.”

Thad sighed heavily and knew that it would be futile in the light of the day’s events to reason with her. He tried a new approach. “You saw the company books, Lese. We were losing a great deal of money and trade due to the Port Bill and other tariffs. Our end was near back there. I felt our ruin coming. I could not endure to lose everything again, my child. You know that we couldn’t have fled south, not with slavery so widespread there. Besides, the war will touch there before it ends. Don’t you see and understand? We had no choice but to come here. This is a land of problems also, but in time, we’ll solve them and live in peace. It won’t be much longer before we start that new trading post and be very busy. By next year, we’ll be buying sheep and be into the wool and mutton business again. There won’t beany taxes and mortgages to ruin us this time. Perhaps we’ll even do some farming…”

His mind was filled with dreams and hopes and she did not have the heart to shatter or dim them. He continued, “We’ll be happy and prosperous here. We will live in peace and freedom.”

“You call this peace and freedom, Uncle Thad?”

He patiently replied, “Soon this will all be over and forgotten and then we’ll have a truce. Just give it and me a little time. You’ll see. Come, let us speak no further of unhappy things and times. It’s getting late and I have some rabbits waiting to be cleaned for dinner.”

Relenting and smiling up into the jovial face of her uncle, Alisha realized that she had come to love the old man dearly. There would be plenty of time for talk and understanding later, she thought. She slipped her arm through his and they strolled arm-in-arm to their cabin. Alisha went inside to prepare the vegetables for the stew and Thad went to the side stand to clean his rabbits. As he skinned and gutted the rabbits, he secretly wished for a gigot of lamb and tankard of ale instead of stew and tea.

Horace had been leaning against his cabin stoop observing the talk between Thad and Alisha when Kathy walked over to him. “So, you still persist in chasing Alisha’s skirts. Can’t you see she doesn’t give a fig for you, Horace? She won’t even give you a second glance. I could make you forget her if you’d only give mea chance,” she promised brazenly.

He glared at the drab, plain girl standing there and said cruelly, “What man would trade one night with her for a lifetime with you? That’s like trading gold for rocks!” He laughed and walked inside his cabin.

Kathy stared after him and vowed silently, “She’ll never have you, Horace, nor you, her. It will be me or no one. I’ll fix you and her. She’ll be sorry she ever turned your head.”

As Alisha peeled and cut the vegetables, she was absorbed in her thoughts. She reflected on the other Indians she had met since coming here from England a year and a half ago, but none of them had been like Gray Eagle….

A year and a half ago, she was on a ship sailing from her childhood home in Liverpool to the “new frontier” with her parents. She was leaving behind the only home and friends she had ever known. She recalled the great excitement they had felt about coming here, but she also recalled the sadness and heartaches.

The trip to the Colonies had been uneventful, but tedious. It had been cold, uncomfortable and long. They had left Liverpool in late winter, 1773, and had arrived on the Colony Coast in the spring of 1774. The adventure had been thrilling and frightening to a seventeen-year-old girl.

Alisha was slowly learning what a sheltered life she had led and painfully becoming aware of how naive she was. She knew this was because of her strict, protected upbringing. There was so much her mother had not taught or told her. Each day, she became aware of how much there was to know about life, people and love. Things were not as she had thought and believed. People and times were difficult and life could be cold and hard. Why couldn’t people be open and honest as she was taught to be? Why did kindness and friendship not matter to others as they did to her? Why were these men so brash and crude? Where had gallantry and chivalry gone? Alisha did not comprehend that these men weren’t so very different from her countrymen. It was just that her father had protected her from the ploys of hot-blooded, eager young men. He had shielded her from the problems in their country. She knew only situations where people were at their very best and never learned what people could be like in hardship. Of her protected life, a gentle, loving spirit was born. Her father would never know what a disadvantage this would give her when she would be called on to step out into the real world with real life problems and people. She had lived in a world of shadowed illusions and beautiful dreams.

Her naive innocence made facing raw human nature very difficult and harsh for her. How could she hope to deal with emotions, actions and feelings in othérs that she knew nothing about and could not understand? What made her see and feel things so differently? Was she the only one who did not accept life here? Did she want to learn to think and feel any other way? No! her mind shouted. That kind of hatred would be destructive to herself and others.

She trembled when she recalled how she had tried to stand up against them all. She had done it without thinking, just as she would have gone to the aid of anyone in distress or danger. Let them be angry, she thought defensively. They were wrong and they’d soon realize it and be glad that I stopped them from doing a terrible thing.

She would never know that the financial and political problems her father had shielded her from were the very reasons that they finally left England to come here. Her father, John Williams, had been a merchant and shipper in Liverpool. He was the type of man who radiated charisma and many men went out of their way to do business with him and his firm. They knew they could trust him to deal fairly with them. His reputation became well-known and above reproach during those days. How happy those days and times had been for her.

She began to recall those last days in England and her trip to the Colonies. So many things had happened insuch a short span of time. How she longed to be safe and secure with her parents in their home there. In those happy, carefree days of long ago, she had not known fear, hatred and violence.

Painfully, she recalled the closeness she had shared with her father, a closeness of friendship and companionship now gone forever. They had spent many, many hours just talking, going on outings, discussing books and events that they had both read or heard.

It had been a blessing that her mother had never resented their closeness and special love as some women did. Instead, she rejoiced in their comradeship. Alisha’s relationship with him made up for all the missing children and the son that she could not give her husband. She was deeply grateful to her only daughter for this.

On sunny, clear days, she and her father would ride horseback for hours in the nearby countryside, stopping later at some inn or respectable tavern for luncheon. There, they would plan future outings or discuss the morning’s activities. They were both great lovers of the outdoors and spent many hours in the forests and dales, collecting treasures and memories never to be forgotten.

As John would watch the sparkle of vitality and innocence shimmer in her eyes or touch her face, he would wonder at his decision to let her see only the happy, carefree side of life, without its usual problems and hatred which tormented many hearts and spirits. But he believed that she would have a lifetime to see and learn to deal with the hate, bitterness and cruelty in life and people. For the time being, he felt that she should have only love, security and happiness. She was still very young and there was plenty of time.

Glancing around the small, homely cabin, Alisha laughed at how vastly different it was from the grand halls and homes she had lived in and visited back in England. What would Lady Margaret say if she could see me now? she jokingly wondered. Out here, there was no worry about what the ladies of society think or say. From the looks of things, Miss Alisha Williams wouldn’t even have a coming out ball.

Alisha dreamed about her parents and the grand parties and dinners of the past. She could still see the twirling dancers in their fancy gowns and jewels and hear the lively, soft music as it drifted up the staircase.

She smiled as she recalled that during each party her father would come up to the hallway and dance a waltz with her before she went to bed. They would swirl and twirl to the haunting melody as they made mocking bows and gay, flirty banter. They would laugh and joke inlight repartee until the dance was over. Then he would return to his guests and she to her room.

She could still visualize her mother flitting around the room like a beautiful, delicate butterfly, seeing to her guests. Her soft, musical laughter would float up the stairway frequently to Alisha’s alert ears, causing her heart to soar in pride and joy. Her mother had been known as one of the most gracious and delightful hostesses in town. It was an honor and a sheer stroke of luck to be among her guests for a party or dinner.

As Alisha grew older, she came to realize that her parents had one of the few arranged marriages that had led to a life of love and happiness for both of them. Thinking about her mother, she knew that her relationsh. . .