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Through the Fire (The Native American Warrior Series)

Page 30

by Beth Trissel


  “Is there nowhere I can find peace? And love, acceptance as I am?”

  “Seek all these things from the Lord,” he said.

  “How do I find him?”

  “You needn’t look far. God has already found you.”

  A wave of comfort flowed from the priest into her bruised, battered soul. She sighed and he laid his cheek on the top of her head.

  “Are you ready to go on now?” he asked.

  She was, and she wasn’t. Without Father Andrew’s support, she would have sunk to the base of a big oak and dozed off among the buff and red-colored toadstools encircling it like a fairy ring.

  “Meh newah.”

  The membrane of exhaustion fell away from her as she spun to see Shoka step from between two redbud trees. Their heart-shaped leaves framed his handsome face. Raindrops beaded his bronzed skin and black hair and the blue shirt clung to his muscular body. Never had he looked so good.

  Recharged with joy, she cried out and ran to him. “Where have you been?”

  “Watching for you,” Shoka said, and swept her up off the ground and into his embrace.

  He set her feet on a patch of violets, keeping one arm around her. The other he extended to the priest. “I thought we would meet again someday, Notha.”

  Fond remembrance lit the older man’s steady gaze. “As I also knew.” Father Andrew smiled, and clasped Shoka’s outstretched fingers. “For a man continually fighting for his life, you look well, my friend.”

  “And you.” Shoka returned the priest’s appraisal with those keen eyes, his dark brows slightly upraised. “You came to her in the middle of a fight. Have you no fear?”

  “No man is without fear.”

  “You seem so,” Shoka said.

  “Only because my faith is greater than my fear.”

  “Your God has preserved you.”

  “He is yours, as well. How can I persuade you?” Father Andrew asked, as if this were an old debate between them.

  A faint smile curved Shoka’s mouth. “I will think on your words. Thank you for your aid, Notha.”

  “I’m only too glad to be of service and repay an old debt. She’s quite a woman. Care well for her.”

  Shoka eyed Rebecca with a mix of tenderness and vexation. “Always. Yet what must I do with one so stubborn? She defied me before all.”

  “I heard, but she did what she thought was right. My counsel is to love her and never let her go. Though, you don’t need me to tell you this, do you?”

  “No. My heart tells me.” Shoka held her nearer without a scolding word.

  Father Andrew’s third miracle.

  ****

  Wind breathed through the chestnuts and hemlocks and across the assembly gathered around Father Andrew, warriors mostly, including Black Knife and Wabete. Tessa perched on a flat stone with Meshewa. Logan and Lieutenant McClure, unbound for the occasion, squatted on the leaf-covered earth near the two couples kneeling in the morning sunshine before the priest.

  Kate gazed at Renault with rapt affection, and he beamed his own melting adoration in return. The Frenchman never had been what Rebecca would term reserved. She looked up at Shoka, his expression controlled in front of so many. She caught his eye and smiled, coaxing a slight smile in response.

  A strong breeze lifted her hair and the wild rose she’d tucked in the long lengths dropped to the leafy ground. Shoka picked up the deep pink flower and slipped it behind her ear. “Like this, your lips,” he whispered.

  “Have you figured out how to keep them that way?” she whispered back, envisioning his mouth settled unhurriedly over hers.

  He smiled at her, broadly this time. Father Andrew raised his hand and the sacred words flowed over them in blessing and benediction. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

  High above them, a red-tailed hawk shrilled its piercing cry and soared into the sky, silhouetted against the blue. Wheeling in the currents, it disappeared over the ridges back the way Shoka and Rebecca had come.

  The great bird, sacred to the Shawnee, circled a burned out cabin, then flew away from the dark presence brooding over the gold hidden beneath the smoking timbers.

  The End~

  The long-awaited sequel to Through the Fire, historical romance novel, Kira, Daughter of the Moon, is available in print and kindle at Amazon.

  About the Author

  Married to my high school sweetheart, I live on a farm in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia surrounded by my children, grandbabies, and assorted animals. An avid gardener, my love of herbs and heirloom plants figures into my work. The rich history of Virginia, the Native Americans and the people who journeyed here from far beyond her borders are at the heart of my inspiration. In addition to American settings, I also write historical and time travel romances set in the British Isles, and nonfiction about gardening, herbal lore, and country life.

  For more on me, my blog is the happening place: https://bethtrissel.wordpress.com/

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  About the Author

 

 

 


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