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Ok and here we go another minor novel LOL. Just had a lot I wanted to
get out
I have attached the word version as well for easier reading.....


Inside the church Josiah watched as Molly left the way she’d come. He
wondered if she had meant something by her last remark about there being
good men. “Most but not all?” Certainly, he agreed there were other good
men out there. Few and far between. Vin was one of the best. Deep down
he wished if Cheyenne were going to fall for someone it would have been
Vin, but then any of the seven men he rode with would have been better
than whoever this Jonah or Abe was. Maybe, or maybe it was just the fact
that he did not believe that anyone was good enough for his daughter.
His daughter, Josiah shook his head and chastised himself. Cheyenne had
no idea he was her real father, no one did. He had hidden it for so
long, satisfied with being her godfather, nothing more than a favorite
uncle. How did he have the right to say who was or was not good enough
for her now. Cheyenne had lost her parents at a young age, he did not
have the strength to raise her himself, or to be her father even then,
so he’d taken her to be raised by her mother’s people. And then there
was that. Her true mother, she didn’t even know she existed, something
else he must atone for. He stood and went to his room and opened the
bureau drawer taking the whiskey bottle from inside. The bottle was all
but empty. He popped the cork and guzzled what was left then tossed it
aside. Deciding to head for the saloon and get another, he made his way
to the front doors and walked out.

Cheyenne opened the back door from her living area to the outside behind
the church. Her prayer bundle in hand she made her way to an open area.
She gathered enough wood to make a small fire. After she’d started the
fire, She laid a buckskin blanket on the ground then knelt on it sitting
back on her feet. Setting her bundle down she retrieved a small wooden
bowl, a braid of sweet grass, tobacco, and sage from it. Taking a
burning twig from the small fire she lit the tobacco and sage blowing
gently on the ends until the red embers glowed and smoke rose from the
ashes. As she set them both in the bowl, she watched the smoke rise
before taking the braid of sweet grass, and doing the same, lighting the
end of the braid until the embers glowed then blew gentle breaths to
bring the smoke. Instead of setting the sweet grass in the bowl, she
waved the smoke first to her heart, then her head, over her body, and
finally back to her heart. As she did so she prayed in her Lakota
language.

Oh, Great Spirit,
whose voice I hear in the winds, and whose breath gives life to all the
world, hear me.
I am small and weak.
I need your strength and wisdom.
Let me walk in beauty and make my eyes, ever behold the red and purple
sunset.
Make my hands respect the things you have made, and my ears sharp to
hear your voice.
Make me wise so that I may understand.

She set the sweetgrass into the bowl, then lifting her hands she looked
up to the darkened sky.
Oh Wakan Tonka hear my words,
one who has my heart is lost.
Light his way, protect him,
help him to find the road back to the one who cares.

Before she was finished Cheyenne pulled from her pack three feathers
bound together with a strip of beaded rawhide. She picked up the bowl
and stood. The sage, sweet grass and tobacco still smoldering. She
fanned the smoke with the feather fan, first to the north, then the
south, east and west.

Josiah wasn’t sure just what had drawn his attention to the back of the
church, whether it was the flickering light from the small fire or the
small voice he’d heard in the silence of the night, either way he found
himself standing at the corner of the building watching as Cheyenne
prayed. He took a step back concealing himself behind the building as
she finished, gathered her things and headed back to her room. Josiah
leaned back against the wall. His heart breaking for his forlorn
daughter. “I need a drink.” He spoke out loud as he pulled himself from
his spot and once again headed for the saloon.

JD sat with Nathan, Chris and some of the others as they engaged
themselves in a game of cards. Chris watched the door as Josiah strode
purposely through them and headed straight for the bar demanding
whiskey.
“Looks like Josiah’s in another one of his moods.” JD piped up glancing
over at the preacher.
Nathan looked over at his friend at the bar, then back to his cards.
“Looks more like he’s got troubles.”
JD scoffed.” You’d think his troubles would be over now that that Indian
blacksmith ain’t around.”
“Ain’t nothin to mock at JD. That boy did us all a favor riskin his own
life and holdin back that gang while we got the girls out of there.”
“Way I heard it, it was his fault anyway.”
Nathan only nodded, JD’s assumption was hard to dismiss, but then none
of them really knew the whole story, And Nathan was not about to pass
judgment. He glanced back to see the preacher take the full whiskey
bottle he’d just purchased and a single glass over to a secluded table
in the corner of the saloon.

The next morning found Josiah back at the church sprawled out on his
bed. He woke with a headache from hell itself and an empty whiskey
bottle on the floor. Sluggishly pulling himself upright he carefully
swung his legs over the bedside leaning his elbows on his knees he held
his aching head in his hands reprimanding himself for being so stupid
with his daughter only a few feet from where he must have stumbled in
last night.
The aroma of hot coffee freshly made bread, and bacon frying eased its
way into his room. Maybe a good breakfast would sooth his irritable
stomach.
Running his hands through his curly greying locks Josiah did his best to
look presentable as he stood and dressed. A bath would help, he could
still smell the whiskey on his breath and smoke from the saloon on his
clothes. He made a metal note to pay a visit to the bath house after
breakfast.
Lifting his suspenders over his shoulders, Josiah opened the door and
walked toward Cheyenne’s room. The familiar smells are what caught his
attention as he stepped up onto the pulpit. Out of the corner of his eye
to his right where the small table sat against the wall he saw the plate
of food, Eggs, Bacon and fresh fry bread along with the coffee had been
placed there with his eating utensil. Josiah ran a hand over his face
flustered as he looked toward Cheyenne’s door. It was clear she still
did not want to talk.
With a defeated sigh, Josiah picked up his plate and coffee and headed
for the front doors. Once he made his way- outside he sat on the front
steps and began to eat his breakfast.
“Somethin sure smells good.”
Josiah looked up to see Vin making his way over to him.
“Mornin Vin.” He greeted the Ex-bounty hunter.
“Josiah.” Vin Nodded as he walked up and sat down on the step below.
“Rough night?”
The preacher gave a short nod as he looked down the street to where the
stage had just pulled up. “Chris expectin some one?” he motioned toward
the stage where Buck and Chris sauntered over to meet it.
“Don’t rightly know, heard the new saloon owner might be in today, could
be him.”
Josiah nodded. “Must be.” He said setting his half-eaten plate of food
down next to him.
The preacher’s solemn mood didn’t escape Vin’s notice. “How’s your
驳辞诲诲补耻驳丑迟别谤?”
Josiah shook his head. “Not speaking to me. I dunno Vin, maybe it was a
mistake bringing her here, Don’t know what Strong Wolf was thinkin,
wantin me to be a father to her now, after all this time.”
“A father?” Vin looked at him curiously.
Josiah nodded. “Somethin I ain’t told anyone yet. Cheyenne’s my
daughter Vin, not my goddaughter, it’s a long story. She has my eyes.
Thing is she don’t know it.”
Vin looked out into the street. “Well, I’ll be. She doesn’t know you’re
her real Pa?”
Josiah shook his head as Vin looked over at him.
“I didn’t even know myself for a long time, not until I got a letter
from my friend Pierre’ wanten me to come visit, said he had something
important to tell me, turns out that something important was Cheyenne.
Her mother died in childbirth, Pierre and his wife took the baby. By the
time I found out about her. She was almost 5. “
Vin shook his head and glanced back down the street toward where Chris
and Buck stood talking to a young woman from the stage. “Got to be a
hard thing to live with.”
Josiah nodded in agreement as a sound at their backs brought both his
and Vin’s attention to the church doors behind them. Cheyenne stood
medicine pouch over her shoulder, quiver of arrows slung over her back,
and bow in hand. Anger and confusion emanating from her eyes as she
glared at the man she knew only as her godfather. It was obvious from
the shocked expression on her face that she had heard the conversation.
“Cheyenne.” Josiah greeted her hoping she had not heard what he had just
revealed to Vin even though it was completely apparent that she had.
“How long have you been standing there?”
Tears seeped from her eyes, barely able to get the words out even as
she spoke in her native Lakota dialect.
“Long enough to hear you say that the life I have lived, has all been a
濒颈别?”
Stunned at her words Josiah quickly got to his feet. “Annie, no, I..”
Cheyenne held up her hand for him to stop as he took a step toward her.
“Let me explain, we need to talk.” Josiah all but begged as he took
another step.
“NO!” Cheyenne shouted, holding her hand out in front of her again to
stop him from coming closer.
“No more talk!” she yelled as she hurried past him.
Vin reached out and took hold of the distressed girl’s arm. “Maybe you
should hear him out.”
Cheyenne jerked her way free of Vin with a stern look warning him to
stay clear before she turned and raced toward the livery.
“Sorry Josiah.” Vin apologized for butting in and grabbing the escaping
girl.
Josiah put an appreciative hand on the tracker’s shoulder. “It’s
alright, she finds comfort with her horse when she’s upset. I’ll go to
her. it’s time we got things straight. Guess maybe that’s what her
grandfather wanted in the first place.”
Josiah’s words had no sooner left his mouth when Cheyenne emerged from
the livery leading her black and white paint. In one swift movement she
took hold of the horse’s main and swung onto its back. With only a word
the horse broke into a run and raced out of town.
“Cheyenne! Wait!” Josiah’s call fell upon deaf ears as the girl showed
no sign of stopping.
Josiah quickly ran for the livery as Vin stood by watching helplessly.
It was none of his affair, he knew that, but Josiah was his friend. He
wanted to help. He knew Josiah would never catch her. Cheyenne’s horse
was too fast, and she had a head start. Heading to the livery himself
Vin caught up with the preacher just as he was tightening the sinch on
his saddle.
“Ain’t none of my business Josiah, but maybe it’s best you let her be
for a while, you’ll never catch her. Sides, maybe she wants to be a
lone, sort a get her head straight before she talks to you.”
Josiah leaned his head against his saddle, clearly torn. “Maybe your
谤颈驳丑迟.”
Vin put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m goin out on patrol, I’ll
keep my eyes open.”
“I appreciate that Vin.”

***

Sometime later Wind finally came to a stop several miles from town, in a
small hidden clearing near the river. They were surrounded by tall trees
and lush foliage on either side. Cheyenne slipped from the horses’ back
letting him drink his fill and graze on the sweet-smelling grasses
beneath their feet, as she walked to the river’s edge and stood looking
out across the blue water, her mind deep in thought and tears still
staining her cheeks. Why would Josiah keep such a secret? Why would her
parents? Her grandparents? Who else knew? If her mother was not her
mother, who was her mother? Had Josiah said she was dead? Cheyenne’s
mind was a jumble of questions. Had the life she knew all been a lie?
She was angry, confused and hurt. Her thoughts so tangled, her senses
dulled, she did not hear the footsteps coming up behind her until Wind
let out a loud warning neigh, that brought Cheyenne spinning around to
see Vin walking toward her, leading Peso behind him.
“Mind if I water my horse?” he asked.
Cheyenne stepped away from the riverbank to give him room. “You followed
me” she scowled.
Vin shook his head calmly. “Nope, just wanted to water my horse, but it
aint safe a woman alone out here. Best get back to town.”
“I have always gone into the woods alone since I was a child.” She
frowned.
“Maybe so.” Vin took the canteen from his saddle and crouched down near
the water to fill it. “But these aint the woods you’re used to.”
“You are here because of Josiah, he sent you.” Cheyenne growled.
Vin looked up at her. “Nope, out on patrol is all.” He answered calmly.
“You lie, he sent you.”
Vin finished with his canteen and stood, walking over to his horse he
wrapped the strap over his saddle horn. “Never been good at lie’n.”
Cheyenne glared at him before turning back to the river.
Vin shook his head and stepped into the stirrup as he lifted himself
into the saddle. “You sure are a stubborn one aren’t you. You Know, If’n
you had a mind, Molly’s at the hotel. I’m sure she’d be more than happy
to talk with you if ya had a need.”
Cheyenne shook her head no. “She would not understand.”
“Won’t know til ya try.” He took hold of the reigns and turned Peso in
the opposite direction. “In the meantime, best get back to town. It aint
safe for you to be out here alone. Josiah’s on the worry.”
“I can take care of myself,” She smirked. “I have hunting to do and
medicine to gather.”
Vin shook his head frustrated. “Suit yourself.” With that he nudged his
heel into his horse’s side, causing the animal to move forward as Vin
headed back the way he’d come.
Cheyenne turned and watched as he rode off. She wiped away the tears
from her cheeks before she stepped away from the river’s edge. Whistling
a musical note that made Wind’s ears perk, taking the paint from
enjoying the tasty grass he looked up and began to follow, as Cheyenne
began to search the surrounding area for the roots and wild herbs she
used in her medicine bundle and prayer ceremonies.
It was late afternoon by the time she had finished. Finally satisfied
with what she had gathered she took the bow from her back and retrieved
an arrow from the quiver as she began to search for prey. Before long a
wild rabbit caught her sight. She crouched and quietly knocked the
arrow into her bow, aiming expertly at the critter’s head so as not to
ruin the skin, a trick her brothers had taught her. Just as she was
about to let the arrow fly, a noise from the bushes startled her as well
as the rabbit sending him scampering off. Wind let out a warning whinny
and Cheyenne spun in the direction of the bushes aiming her weapon.
“Cheyenne.” A hoarse but familiar voice spoke her name as a man slowly
stumbled out from behind the dense foliage and brush. His long-unbraided
hair, a tangled mess of stray strands falling into his eyes, his face
swollen and bruised, blood trickled from the cuts above his eye and his
split lip, the red substance stained his shirt from his shoulder to his
waist. He held a hand up against the wound in his side while blood
seeped through his fingers. He limped from the wound in his leg, barely
able to stand. He fell against a nearby tree and leaned against it to
steady himself.
“Jonah!” Cheyenne gasped. She quickly lowered her weapon and rushed over
to him helping to steady him. He put his arm around her letting her keep
him upright.
“I c-ca- came- to- war-warn…” Too weak to speak, or stand any longer,
Abe sank to the ground. Even though his weight was no match for the
petite girl, Cheyenne did her best to break his fall keeping his head
from hitting the hard surface.
While Abe lay there passed out Cheyenne immediately began to assess his
wounds. He had two gunshot wounds, one to his shoulder, she was certain
the bullet was still lodged somewhere inside. The one in his leg looked
as though the bullet had passed through. Still, it was a bad wound and
needed to be tended to without delay. Ripping his shirt away from the
wound in his side Cheyenne was finally able to see the damage, he had a
good 4-inch gash in his side, From the look of it, she guessed he’d been
in a knife fight, she’d seen these types of wounds before and had on one
or more occasions helped to tend to her brothers with the same kind of
injury. She quickly retrieved her medicine bundle and began to do what
she could to stop the bleeding. Using a needle made from sharpened bone
and what sinew she had, Cheyenne crudely closed the knife wound. Using
crushed yarrow on his wounds helped to stop the bleeding. But even as
she mixed herbs into a cup of water she had retrieved from the river and
did her best to get the wounded man to drink, Cheyenne knew he needed
more than what she could do for him. She needed help, he needed white
medicine. The bullet was still in his shoulder, and she worried about
infection.
The sun was slowly sinking into the west. She had to take him back to
town and find someone who would help, someone who knew white medicine.
But who could she trust?
Calling wind over, Cheyenne gave him a hand signal and spoke in her
native tongue, The black and white paint seemed to understand and
carefully laid on the ground. Cheyenne worked quickly as she gathered
her things and then pulled Abe over to her horse. She wasn’t sure how,
but she managed to get him on the horse and lay his head on the horse’s
neck while she climbed on behind him. Motioning with her heel the horse
got back to his feet, with in moments they were heading back to Four
Corners.

By the time they reached town it was near dark. Cheyenne reigned Wind to
a stop behind the blacksmiths and dismounted. She scanned the area
searching for a place to hide Abe. She knew she could not get him to her
room without being seen, nor to the hotel, deciding his room at the
blacksmiths was best for the time being, she led Wind close to the back
door before she motioned for the horse to lie down. Carefully she
slipped Abe from the horse. “You must help me, Jonah.” She whispered
trying to wake the unconscious young man. Sluggishly Abe woke just
enough to stay on his feet and walk through the back door of the
blacksmiths leaning heavily on Cheyenne. “Abe” he mumbled barely
audible. “My, name, is Abe.”
Finally reaching his room Cheyenne helped Abe to lie down. She felt his
head. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples. He was feverish and
mumbling in both English and Lakota. Cheyenne’s name crossed his lips
more than once as she pulled his moccasins from his feet then removed
his tattered and bloody shirt tossing it on the ground. She removed his
trousers leaving him clad in only his long johns. Covering him with the
blanket she reached over and felt his forehead and cheeks. He was
burning up.
Frightened that he would die, Cheyenne suddenly bolted from the room
closing the door behind her and raced for Nathans. Reaching the healer’s
door, she banged on it frantically calling out for him. When there was
no answer Cheyenne turned, looking down at the quiet street. The fires
along the boardwalk lit up the streets and the lamps in front of the
hotel burned bright. “Eva.” Cheyenne suddenly remembered. Eva knew
medicine. Cheyenne ran from Nathans to the hotel hoping she had not
been seen. She burst through the hotel doors panicked when she did not
see the girl at the desk. Instead a short stocky older man sat behind
the desk looking up at her.
“Eva?” Cheyenne asked her Panic clearly apparent in her tone.
The man just looked at her confused. “I’m sorry Miss Eva has turned in
for the evening.”
“Eva!” Cheyenne shouted this time more forcefully.
The man hesitated before he answered. “She’s in her room, up the stairs
to your left.” He pointed.
Cheyenne turned on her heels and raced up the stairs. Finding the door
she hoped was Eva’s, she banged on it desperately. “Eva?”
The door slowly opened. “Cheyenne? What is it? Is something wrong?”
Cheyenne nodded and took hold of the girls’ hand. “You come, help, s’il
vous plait.” She pleaded.
“What’s wrong?” Eva asked again confused.
Cheyenne rattled off both in French and Lakota. Then finally in her
broken English.
“Jonah, please, you help, sick, bad hurt, You come.” She pulled at the
girl urging her to follow but Eva hesitated.
“Where’s Nathan?”
Cheyenne’s eyes teared as she shrugged. “Please you come fast, he die.”
Eva smiled, a worried look crossed her face as she nodded and squeezed
the girl’s hand. “Alright, let me get my bag.”

**
Two hours passed before Eva had finished, first taking the bullet from
Abes’ shoulder then addressing the rest of his wounds.
“The bullet in his leg went clear through, whatever you used to help
stop the bleeding worked. Getting that gash sewn up like you did helped
as well. I just reinforced it. Good job Cheyenne, But he’s not out of
the woods yet. He’s lost a lot of blood and the infection has caused the
fever. He’ll need to be watched closely.” She stood going over to the
water basin and began washing her hands. “I’ve done all I can for now.”
Cheyenne looked up from where she sat on the bed next to Abe.
“A’ho…Thank, you”
Eva smiled as she took a towel and dried her hands. “He should sleep
through the night. You come get me if he gets any worse you understand?”
Cheyenne nodded that she did, then a seriousness crossed her delicate
features. “No tell, you no tell Josiah, no tell town, please?”
Eva looked at her. “Cheyenne I can’t…”
“Please,” Cheyenne begged. “No tell.”
Eva let out a sigh and hesitated before she reluctantly agreed.
“Alright, for now.” With that she put a comforting hand on Cheyenne’s
shoulder, reminding her once more to come for her if he got any worse
before she made her way out.