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Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter
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inviting.
Sometimes Buck felt like a lifetime had passed, instead of just his twenty-four years. Other than his shoulder-length red hair, Buck looked as Indian as Mary. His dark-skinned muscular body was tall and lean, without an ounce of fat, and dark brown eyes constantly assessed his surroundings.
Buck’s mother had been married to a white trapper, Jeremiah McFadden, until he’d been killed at the hand of a Blackfoot warrior. Buck’s mother had been pregnant with him at the time, and some Blackfoot Indians had taken her captive. When Buck was born, she’d named him Red Hawk and explained early on how they’d come to live in the Blackfoot camp. Until he was five years old, Red Hawk and his mother had lived with the Blackfoot tribe. Then they were traded to a white man named Silas Lothard. Silas was cruel, often beating Red Hawk and his mother into submission. He taught them to speak white-man-talk, and had changed Red Hawk’s name to Buck. Silas claimed to be a Christian, and he constantly reminded Buck’s mother, whom he’d called Sarah, that she was nothing but a heathen who made a good slave. He forced Buck and his mother to listen while he read from a black book he called “God’s Word,” which Buck quickly came to resent.
Buck’s jaw clenched as he remembered how one day his mother had tried to take him and run away. They’d been caught, and as punishment for her disobedience, Silas had traded her to another man. But he’d kept Buck, who was then ten years old, continuing to mistreat and belittle him, often threatening that if Buck didn’t do as he said, he would die, and his soul would go straight to hell. Silas also told Buck that his mother had been killed and that the only family he had left was him.
One day when Silas began beating him with a strap, twelve-year-old Buck decided to fight back. In the process of the struggle, Silas fell on his own knife. Once Buck realized the man was dead, he lit out on his own. At the age of fourteen, he met Jim Breck, who trained him to hunt, fish, and trap. Buck vowed to always treat people with kindness, the way his mother had done.
Buck’s thoughts were interrupted when Mary stepped into the room. “The woman very sick,” she announced. “Need rest, food, and drink.”
“Is she awake? Can I talk to her?” Buck asked, jumping to his feet.
Mary shook her head. “She not wake up yet. I cleaned wound and stitched skin in place. Now she need rest.”
Buck craned his neck, trying to glance around Mary for a look at the woman lying on the bed. “Maybe I should stay until she comes to. I’d like to talk to her—find out who she is.”
Suddenly, the cabin door opened, and Jim stepped inside, a wide smile on his bearded face. “I thought ya must be here,” he said, striding across the room and clasping Buck’s shoulder. “Saw your horse, and two others, plus a couple of mules. Where’d ya get ’em? Is someone here with ya?”
Buck nodded and motioned to the bedroom.
Jim headed quickly for the back room. He returned a few seconds later, red-faced and squinting his brown eyes at Buck. “I don’t know who that woman is lyin’ on my bed, but she’d better be gone by the time I get my horse fed!” With that, he jerked the cabin door open, stepped out, and let it slam shut with a
bang
.
C HAPTER 9
J im’s hands shook as he poured oats into a bucket and set it in the small corral he’d built for his horse. He was overreacting, but that woman lying on his bed reminded him of Lois.
What is she doing here, and why did Buck bring her to my cabin? Of course
, Jim reasoned,
Buck don’t know what Lois looked like, since I’ve never described her to him
. Truth was, Jim had said very little to Buck about the life he’d led before coming to the mountains.
Watching his horse eagerly eat, Jim leaned on the fence and reflected on his past. He and his childhood sweetheart, Lois, had grown up on farms near St. Louis, Missouri. It was expected that Jim
Sometimes Buck felt like a lifetime had passed, instead of just his twenty-four years. Other than his shoulder-length red hair, Buck looked as Indian as Mary. His dark-skinned muscular body was tall and lean, without an ounce of fat, and dark brown eyes constantly assessed his surroundings.
Buck’s mother had been married to a white trapper, Jeremiah McFadden, until he’d been killed at the hand of a Blackfoot warrior. Buck’s mother had been pregnant with him at the time, and some Blackfoot Indians had taken her captive. When Buck was born, she’d named him Red Hawk and explained early on how they’d come to live in the Blackfoot camp. Until he was five years old, Red Hawk and his mother had lived with the Blackfoot tribe. Then they were traded to a white man named Silas Lothard. Silas was cruel, often beating Red Hawk and his mother into submission. He taught them to speak white-man-talk, and had changed Red Hawk’s name to Buck. Silas claimed to be a Christian, and he constantly reminded Buck’s mother, whom he’d called Sarah, that she was nothing but a heathen who made a good slave. He forced Buck and his mother to listen while he read from a black book he called “God’s Word,” which Buck quickly came to resent.
Buck’s jaw clenched as he remembered how one day his mother had tried to take him and run away. They’d been caught, and as punishment for her disobedience, Silas had traded her to another man. But he’d kept Buck, who was then ten years old, continuing to mistreat and belittle him, often threatening that if Buck didn’t do as he said, he would die, and his soul would go straight to hell. Silas also told Buck that his mother had been killed and that the only family he had left was him.
One day when Silas began beating him with a strap, twelve-year-old Buck decided to fight back. In the process of the struggle, Silas fell on his own knife. Once Buck realized the man was dead, he lit out on his own. At the age of fourteen, he met Jim Breck, who trained him to hunt, fish, and trap. Buck vowed to always treat people with kindness, the way his mother had done.
Buck’s thoughts were interrupted when Mary stepped into the room. “The woman very sick,” she announced. “Need rest, food, and drink.”
“Is she awake? Can I talk to her?” Buck asked, jumping to his feet.
Mary shook her head. “She not wake up yet. I cleaned wound and stitched skin in place. Now she need rest.”
Buck craned his neck, trying to glance around Mary for a look at the woman lying on the bed. “Maybe I should stay until she comes to. I’d like to talk to her—find out who she is.”
Suddenly, the cabin door opened, and Jim stepped inside, a wide smile on his bearded face. “I thought ya must be here,” he said, striding across the room and clasping Buck’s shoulder. “Saw your horse, and two others, plus a couple of mules. Where’d ya get ’em? Is someone here with ya?”
Buck nodded and motioned to the bedroom.
Jim headed quickly for the back room. He returned a few seconds later, red-faced and squinting his brown eyes at Buck. “I don’t know who that woman is lyin’ on my bed, but she’d better be gone by the time I get my horse fed!” With that, he jerked the cabin door open, stepped out, and let it slam shut with a
bang
.
C HAPTER 9
J im’s hands shook as he poured oats into a bucket and set it in the small corral he’d built for his horse. He was overreacting, but that woman lying on his bed reminded him of Lois.
What is she doing here, and why did Buck bring her to my cabin? Of course
, Jim reasoned,
Buck don’t know what Lois looked like, since I’ve never described her to him
. Truth was, Jim had said very little to Buck about the life he’d led before coming to the mountains.
Watching his horse eagerly eat, Jim leaned on the fence and reflected on his past. He and his childhood sweetheart, Lois, had grown up on farms near St. Louis, Missouri. It was expected that Jim
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