Forsaking All Others (Western Vows) Read online

  Forsaking

  All Others

  Western Vows: Book 0.5

  Kari Trumbo

  © 2016 Kari Trumbo

  Published by Kari Trumbo, All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, than please return it to Kari Trumbo and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible

  Author’s note: This is a work of fiction. All locations, characters, names, and actions are a product of the author’s overactive imagination. Any resemblance, however subtle, to living persons or actual places and events are coincidental.

  Cover Art: Stephanie Adams at www.agapeauthors.com

  Editing: Juli Caldwell

  Dedication

  I dedicate this book to old friends who don’t question new dreams.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Preview

  Newsletter

  Chapter One

  Santee Sioux reservation, Nebraska, 1881

  Ojinjintka sat up straight on her pallet of hides. The first signal had come. Now she waited for the second. Her sister breathed softly, mere inches away, while Ojinjintka held her own and listened. The second pebble hit the tepee by her head, and she tucked the blanket she shared with her sister between them so the cold wouldn’t wake her. She climbed from her mat without making a sound. Slipping on a pair of her brother’s leather leggings and work shirt, she blinked in the darkness, waiting for movement from her family. She braided her hair as she softly padded to the center of the large cone tepee.

  Picking up a sack she’d hidden under some blankets by the central cooking area, she pulled out the feathers she’d collected and stuck them into the wrap around her head, knowing it would scare white men. She slipped on a pair of buffalo hide shoes, silencing her steps. Walking on the balls of her feet, she opened the flap front door just enough to see outside, looking for the familiar shadow of Matoskah, the one who’d always rescued her. He appeared on silent feet from the darkness and she rushed to leave, blocking the light and noise from entering the tepee behind her.

  Matoskah met her and gave a playful tug on her braid. She could see the shadow of a smile on his face in the inky night. Behind Ojinjintka, a thump came from within the dwelling. Matoskah grabbed her and dove under a thick cedar bush. The flap to the tepee flicked open and a large man ducked his head out of the small doorway. Dogs, accustomed to silence, barked from tepees all around them.

  “Daughter.” Her hulking bear of a father made the tepee seem tiny and she quaked at the sound of his voice. “I know you’re out here.” He took two steps out into the grass.

  Ojinjintka could now only see his large feet no more than a yard from her face. Surely, her trembling would give them away.

  “You are a curse on us. May the dark spirit forever hunt you down.” He turned on his heel and ducked back in, the buffalo hide flapping shut behind him.

  The dogs renewed their noise, and soon dogs from all around were awake and moving from every direction, looking for whatever had alerted them. Matoskah motioned for her to pay attention to him, be quiet, and follow. She took a deep breath and trailed him on her belly out the other side of the bush. Her heart pounded in her chest. Ojinjintka refused to look back at the home of her tyrant father who’d kept her under his thumb since the death of her mother.

  Matoskah pulled her along through long grass and scattered conical tepees pointing to the sky, avoiding the yipping and howling dogs. They had to hide in almost every bush and each move they made was punctuated by new howls from nearby hounds. Matoskah squeezed her hand and pulled her closer to him but he wouldn’t say a word.

  He led her to the home of the medicine man. Ojinjintka pulled back, motioning for him to stay away. The medicine man had been friends with her father and she knew he would send her back home. Matoskah stopped and looked at her, his eyes pleading with her to trust him. She stared into his dimly lit face for a long minute. A war waged inside her. She trusted Matoskah to take her to safety. Why couldn’t she trust him now? Taking a deep, reassuring breath, she nodded her agreement. He took her hand once more and led her to the flap front.

  Matoskah whistled softly and the opening of the tepee cracked open. A large, old head peered out at them.

  “I was beginning to think you were not coming, my young friend. You will need to hurry. Travel when men sleep. Take this.” He handed Matoskah a small pouch on a long leather thong. “Do not use it unless you need to. It is powerful medicine.” He pointed southeast.

  Matoskah took the small leather pouch, put it around his neck, and nodded. Without saying a word, he shifted their direction to where the man had pointed. He led her to the end of the worn path at the edge of their small village. One huge dog stood between them and open prairie.

  The dog growled and hunched itself into a menacing stance, growling a warning. Its hackles stood on end. Matoskah took a defensive stance in front of Ojinjintka, holding his arms wide to protect her. He moved slowly to the right and forward, trying to get around the dog. It snarled and leaped at him. He threw his arms up and in front of his body to shield himself from the blow. It knocked both of them to the ground, the dog snarling and drooling atop him. A sharp whistle sounded in the distance and the dog ran off toward it.

  Matoskah stood, brushing grass and debris from his clothes. He offered her a hand and she pulled herself up off her backside. They both looked out into the vast prairie, and Ojinjintka tried to calm her breathing. She squeezed his hand. They were finally leaving the reservation, forever.

  Chapter Two

  Ojinjintka picked her steps, careful to avoid twigs. Animals didn’t lumber as they traveled and neither should she. Her head throbbed from squinting into the darkness at every branch and rock. Looking up to the sky, she judged the position of the moon and stars, figuring they had walked for a little over two hours. Matoskah had yet to speak or indicate she should speak either.

  In the moonlight, she saw trees ahead and heard what sounded like rushing water. They had made it to a river. She didn’t know which one and it didn’t matter. Two hours wasn’t enough distance between her and her former life. Matoskah stopped ahead of her and looked around.

  “I think we should camp here, by the river,” he whispered. “We’ll sleep the rest of the night. If we don’t see anything after daylight, then we move on.” He pulled his pack off of his back and walked them into the trees, not waiting for her response. She didn’t blame him. Women were keepers of the home with their people, and her opinion wouldn’t matter much since she didn’t know where they were.

  He found a small area sheltered between two rocks so large she could not see over them. He laid down blankets next to each other and placed their packs by the rocks at their feet. She collapsed onto one of them and looked up at the moon one last time before closing her eyes.

  Matoskah touched her arm. “Ojinjintka, we cannot speak our language anymore. From now on, we must speak the language of the nuns. Your name means wild rose, so I
will call you Rose.”

  She smiled at him. “Will you go by Pete, then? As that was your grandfather’s name?”

  Pete nodded in reply and arranged his own blankets.

  “Matoskah...I mean, Pete? Do you think he meant what he said?” Rose waited, listening closely, thoughts of her father making her heart race out here alone.

  “I don’t know. It isn’t the first time he’s cursed you. The nuns always told us not to believe in such things. I don’t know if he will follow or not. He’s tried to get rid of you more than once. You leaving means he won’t have to keep trying.”

  Within minutes, she heard Pete’s deep breathing.

  She had been happy about the relative protection the surrounding rocks offered when they walked into the alcove. Now, listening to the sounds of the river and animals of the night that she couldn’t identify, they trapped her. Starting and shifting with each new sound, she couldn’t relax long enough to fall sleep. As much as she knew she needed it, rest would not come.

  As the first tinge of light and the chill of the morning came, a large animal blundered down to the river. The crunch of brush and leaves crushing under the animal’s feet got closer, but she could not hear splashing. It did not go in the water, only slurped it with sucking, snuffling noises.

  After her night of imagining and fretting, and though he’d never said he would come after her, Rose had herself convinced her father had found them. She lay there listening for the sound to move as the light became steadily brighter. The snapping of a twig far too close to their hiding spot triggered the beating of her heart to double pace.

  “Pete.” She shook him. “Wake up. Something’s out there.”

  Pete’s eyes opened to narrow slits and he looked at her, sleep still in complete control of him. She shook him again as an ominous groaning sound came from the other side of the rock. Looking up, she caught sight of a huge furry head with a brown muzzle and black nose. A great paw with massive claws came over the top of the rocks. She heard it snort as it sniffed the air. Her eyes flew wide open and she couldn’t control her gasping breaths.

  Pete sat upright, fully awake now. He grabbed for his pack lying next to hers by the far rock wall and banged their spoon against a cook pot. The bear looked down at him with inquisitive, almost sad-looking eyes. It climbed onto the rock above them and stared down, its sides expanding and contracting as if this were nothing new, like it woke humans every day.

  “Rose,” he whispered, “whatever you do, don’t run. You can’t outrun it, do you hear me?” He didn’t look away from the bear. Banging on the pot with increasing speed, he had no effect on the massive, hairy beast.

  The bear climbed down into their small enclosure. Rose held her breath. She wanted to run more than breathe. Pete gave her a look that told her to stay put. She scooted on her backside as far away from the bear as she could, until her back hit the rock and she was trapped. It sniffed the air again and grabbed for Rose’s pack, which carried the little food she’d scraped together for their trip. The invader turned around, climbed back over the rock, splashed into the river, and waded downstream.

  She sat with her mouth open and tried to get her breathing under control.

  “Well, that was quite a start to our trip,” Pete mumbled as he shoved the pan back into his bag. “We’ll need to find breakfast, since ours is now gone.”

  “How can you be so calm about this?” She gulped huge, ragged breaths. “A bear, a giant hairy bear just stole our food and you sit there as if nothing is wrong. What are we going to do now? We aren’t nearly far enough away yet, and we don’t have any food or direction—”

  “Rose. Please. You are making more of this than you need to. Be glad the bear walked away. It’s spring, so he was hungry but didn’t want to expend more strength than necessary. Unfortunately, it means we have to work more than we counted on to get more food.” He gave her a critical eye. “This is no place to let your imaginings get the best of you. I don’t know how long it will take to find a place that will let us stay, but I can promise you it won’t be with another tribe. We’re going to have to leave our territory and hope we can find somewhere they’ll accept us.”

  “How are we going to find food without anything to hunt with? Are we even still on the reservation?”

  “I brought some tools. They are all we really need. Yes, we are still on the reservation.”

  “Where are we going? Do you know?”

  “I’ve talked to a few of the white smugglers who come to bring the whiskey. They all say Kansas is the place to go. We go too far south and the lawmen won’t take kindly to us. But Kansas has cattle ranches. We follow this river, avoiding the towns and people as much as we can.”

  Rose nodded but didn’t get up. The sun, now fully up, cast light on the rim of the rock protecting them. She wanted to trust everything Pete said. He had rescued her from so many things.

  His mother was white and his father Lakota. His mother had taught him to speak the white man’s language as well as the nuns, which made this trip possible. He’d taught her in secret and it had earned her more than a few beatings. Her father had heard her using it when she’d thought he wasn’t around. Pete had also saved her from the match her father had found for her: a mean old drunk whose two previous wives had wound up dead. Mean men seemed to attract others of equal character.

  There had been so many good people though, too. Minnehaha, Rose’s mother’s closest friend, had been Rose’s haven when she’d lost her mother to smallpox. Others had offered refuge when her father had taken to drink. Many saw the evil effects and wouldn’t allow the drink near them. Those were the places she haunted, learning everything she could about real relationships and life. Her sister, Macha, had found a good, brave man ready to take her as soon as their father approved. Father would want to be rid of Macha, which gave Rose hope her sister would be safe.

  Pete stood and stretched his muscles. He was tall and lithe and reminded her of the huge cats she’d seen while she gathered roots. He untied and rewrapped one of his long braids then held his hand out to her.

  “There won’t be berries yet, but we might have luck with the river. Ever had fish for breakfast?”

  She wrinkled her nose. The thought didn’t appeal. “Any other options?”

  He furrowed his forehead exactly like his mother did when she would concentrate.

  “Dandelion greens and probably other edible greens, but I didn’t pay much attention to that womanly stuff.” His eyebrow rose as he threw her question back at her. If she didn’t want what he provided, she’d have to use her own skills.

  “You get your stinky fish. I’ll find us something to make it worth eating.” She stood and brushed the dried grass from her clothes. Pete crept from their alcove without a sound and left her to clean up the bedrolls and find greens. Everything would have to go in his pack now.

  Stretching her stiff legs, she found a small wooded copse of trees a few feet from the rocks. Poking her way through the tiny new growth, she found some lemongrass, a few other edible plants, and some mushrooms she could keep for lunch in case the place they stopped later didn’t have as much to offer. She picked a leaf with a rough texture, cleaned the mushrooms, and then took the leaves and roots to the river to wash.

  Rose couldn’t figure out how Pete caught the fish, but he had it roasting over the fire on his flat pan when she returned to the rocks. Her stomach announced her hunger, and the thought of eating fish for breakfast now seemed the most appealing thing in the world. She plopped down across the fire from him with her legs crossed and added the lemongrass to the pan for it to wilt in the heat. Pete smiled at her over the fire and she couldn’t help returning it.

  “Today we eat fish like the Anishinaabe in the North.” His lip curled in a sneer. The Lakota and Anishinaabe were not allies and had often fought over land, especially since the white man consumed more and more.

  They ate and cleaned up knowing they must get moving again soon. Lingering too long in any on
e place could be dangerous. He stood and slung the pack onto his back.

  “When we cross that river we are off the treaty lands. Whatever you do, do not use the tongue of our people anymore. If you don’t know a word, find a way around it.”

  He took two wraps out of his pack just like those on his own braids. Grasping her thick plait down her back, he unwound it and wove it again intricately like his own, in two on the sides of her head.

  “We need to make you look less like a woman if we are to walk in the day.” He held her face in his hands and looked down at her. “I don’t much like the look of that, myself. The shirt hides most of you, but your face still looks like a woman. Too much curve, not enough lines. You will have to hide your smile.” She looked away under his touch and scrutiny.

  Taking the long strip of fabric she’d worn the night before from his pack, he wrapped it around her forehead. “That covers your thin eyebrows and helps a little. The feathers we leave behind. From a distance, you might pass as a young boy.”

  “I don’t want to be a boy.” Her eyes flashed and her jaw clenched.

  He touched her arm. “Many women died in the smallpox outbreak. Tribes are looking for women to build their numbers back up. I didn’t go to all the trouble to get you out of there just to have you stolen into an even worse situation.” Pete’s voice became a gravelly whisper. He raised his hand to her cheek.

  She closed her eyes. “Why did you help me?” She wanted so much to hear he did it for reasons other than solely honor. Not that honor was a bad thing; it was noble and strong, but she wanted someone to love her. She hadn’t had anyone in her life who loved her since her mother passed.

  He lifted a shoulder and puller his hand from her cheek. “No one else offered.” He turned away from her and walked out into the open.

  Her shoulders fell and she followed him with as little sound as she could. Maybe her new life would hold more promise. Maybe there was more waiting for her at the end of this journey. There had to be more to it than this. What she’d left had been unbearable.