When he heard horses, Victor turned and spotted a group of dark men riding to greet him. On the horizon, he saw more mounted Pawnee than he could count.
He cursed himself for failing to plant dynamite in his home so he could blow himself and Caroline up rather than face capture.
The Pawnee rode closer. A large black-tipped white feather stuck up out of each man's dark hair.
Victor greeted the men in his broken English. To his astonishment, one Indian replied in French. French traders who lived with the Pawnee had taught the chief their language.
All 1,900 Pawnee camped on Victor's farm. From there, they rode back and forth to the Republican River valley hunting bison that roamed in herds, their brown hair undulating like a rug under the radiant sun.
Coming soon in
THIEVES, RASCALS & SORE LOSERS
by Marilyn June Coffey
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