Sagebrush
Serenade
Jeanie Johnson
OTHER BOOKS BY THIS AUTHOR
Native American books
Across The River
Apache Pride
Beyond The Heart
Cherokee Courage
Gentle Savage
Gedi Puniku (Cat Eyes)
Kiowa White Moon
Kiowa Wind Walker
No Price Too High
Paiute Passion
Savage Land
Shadow Hawk
Son of Silver Fox (sequel to Gentle Savage)
White Hawk and the Star Maiden
Within The Heart (Sequel to Beyond the Heart)
Historical or Regency/Victorian Romance Books
A Bride for Windridge Hall
Defiant Heart
Highroad
Indentured
The Deception
Wild Irish Rose
Winslow’s Web
Contemporary Western Romance Books
Georgie Girl
Grasping at Straws
Mattie
Passion’s Pride
Single-handed Heart
Historical Western Romance Books
Elusive Innocents
20th Century Historical Romance Books
Italy Vacation
Moments of Misconception
Radcliff Hall
Taxi Dancer
Action and Adventure Mystery Romance Books
Ghost Island
Holding On
Payback
Futuristic Action and Adventure Romance Books
Chosen
Pony Up
Surviving
The Division
The Dominion
The Mechanism
Time travel/Reincarnation Romance Books
Egyptian Key
Seekers
Seekers Two
Seekers Three
The Locked Room
Non Fiction Books
A Collection of short stories (some true)
Chief Washakie (short history of Shoshoni Chief)
Dream Symbols Made Easy (how to analyze dreams)
Peaches (inspirational)
The Prune Pickers (my childhood)
Whimper (true story of racial conflicts)
Children’s Picture Book
Dandy The Horse
This is a work of fiction. All characters in this book is out of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is mere coincidence.
Story By
Jeanie Johnson
Copyright 2018
All Rights Reserved
PROLOGUE
St. Louis, Missouri 1845
agi Taka (pronounced kahn-gee-dahn-kah) paused. The sound of piano music drifted down on the night air. The music was so spell-binding, it caught him off guard. His dark, intensive eyes glanced up to the house they were passing. Bright light shown through the bay window, revealing a woman, her back to him, sitting at a piano, playing. Kagi Taka slid down from Waki Ya’s (pronounced wah-kee-yahn,) back and strode up to the house, unabashed, peering through the window to get a better look and be closer to where the music was coming from.
“Hay thar, Raven,” his companion, Trapper Dan, called out. “Whar ya goin’? Ya cain’t trespass on thet property!”
Kagi Taka ignored his friend’s concern. The music drew him like a lasso had been thrown around his heart, tugging him, causing him to become part of the music. Nothing ever had that effect on him before and it stunned him. It wasn’t even the kind of music his ears were accustomed to, yet it pierced his very soul.
“Come away, Raven, afore someone discovers ya!” Trapper Dan called out.
The young brave was always so curious every time Trapper Dan brought him to the bustling town of St. Louis Missouri. He had to keep a close eye on him. Whites were always suspicious of Indians and Kagi Taka was decked out in his Indian attire like a sideshow waiting to happen!
“We got business ta take care of! Them pelts ain’t gonna sell themselves!”
Raven turned his head. The light streaming from the window illuminated half of his face, shadowing the rest. He had the typical look of a Sioux, decked out in the splendor of his fringed-buckskin outfit, bear-claw necklace, and feathers fluttering about his shoulders. They were attached to a single, thin braid, plaited along the edge of his face. The rest of his straight, coal-black hair fell in a shimmering sheen around his face and down his back.
“We don’t have time fer this!” Trapper Dan complained, feeling impatient with his ward.
“Have ya ever heard anything’ as beautiful?” Raven asked, looking back in the window at the woman playing.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I have. If ya wanta listen ta piana music you ken come visit one of them saloons in town. Now come away from thet winder afore someone catches ya!”
Trapper Dan hitched up his own buckskin trousers and tightened his grip on the lead to his mule. His horse, Pebbles, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, impatient to be on his way. Trapper Dan didn’t want to have to climb down and drag Kagi Taka away.
The strapping Sioux brave had been with Trapper Dan since he was a young boy and got caught in a trap. He had rescued the frightened child and did the best he could to repair the damage, but there was still a scar on Raven’s ankle, left as a testament. When Kagi Taka continued coming back to Trapper Dan’s cabin in the woods, after his leg healed, Trapper Dan took him under his wing letting the boy help him. Now that boy was a young man of twenty, but just as inquisitive as he was, from the beginning, when he first got caught in the trap.
“I’m leavin’ you ta deal with the outcome, if ya don’t come away,” Trapper Dan warned. “We gotta get these hides in an head back ta high-country afore the weather turns bad. No use ya meddlin’ whar yer nose don’t belong!”
Kagi Taka reluctantly turned away. He had been hoping to see the woman’s face, who made such beautiful music from the tips of her fingers. It seemed like magic to him. He swung back up on Thunder’s back and put pressure on his horse’s sides with his legs. Waki Ya responded, obediently, and the two caught up with Trapper Dan.
The music kept circling Raven’s head in a continues loop. He didn’t think he would ever forget that tune. He just wished he could have stayed longer and listen to more.
CHAPTER ONE
“s that you, Josiah?” Marcel called, standing up from the piano bench. She had been lost in her music and almost hadn’t heard the front door open and close.
Marcel turned her face to see Josiah entering the room. The look on his face was stark. She hated to ask the reason. She was afraid she already knew.
“You have to come to grips, Marcel,” her brother, Josiah, muttered in a low voice. “We can’t stay here and you know it!”
“Are you sure?” Marcel walked to the nearby settee and plopped down, causing her long skirts to billow around her.
Josiah thought how pretty she looked with her golden-brown ringlets bouncing around her face and her inquisitive, blue eyes staring back at him.
“I am positive! I just returned from the solicitor’s office. He has gone over Grandmother’s accounts. The house was mortgaged and she hasn’t made a payment in months. The bank will repossess it soon, considering she has died. Even though she left us everything in her will, the truth is, it merely consists of the furnishings in this house and her personal belongings. We could sell everything, but it wouldn’t be enough to make up what is owed on the house.”
Marcel put her fingers to the side of her eyes and pressed to try and relieve the headache she felt was coming on.
“What will we do? Where will we go?”
Josiah threw
a newspaper down in Marcel’s lap.
“The Government is distributing free land in Oregon. A company will be leaving soon if we can make it to Independence in time. We will just have to start fresh, Marcel, there is nothing for it, otherwise.”
“I can’t leave everything behind. If all we have is the furniture in this house, we will have to take it all with us. This has been our life since we were little after Mama and Papa died. Every stick of furniture holds memories for me!”
“That is impossible! There is no wagon big enough to put everything in, not to mention the supplies we will have to bring.”
“What about my piano? I refuse to leave it behind. In fact, I won’t leave anything behind. If you want me to come with you, you will have to find a big enough wagon. Otherwise, you need to look for a suitable townhouse we can rent right here in St. Louis.”
“We only have so much money, Marcel. Once the creditors discover Grandmother is dead, they will be hounding us and there won’t be enough to pay rent on a townhouse. As it is, we barely have enough to get us to Oregon.”
“Then you had better start scouting for a large wagon,” Marcel stated, narrowing her eyes at her brother.
“I will ask around,” Josiah muttered, shaking his head. It was no wonder Grandmother had run out of money, the way his sister lived like there was no tomorrow acting like all the fancy dresses and piano lessons just appeared like magic out of thin air! He always felt his younger sister was spoiled and vain. He was worried she wouldn’t even be able to survive a journey all the way to Oregon.
Nonetheless, he had been doing his own research, ever since their grandmother died. He was hankering for a new beginning. Town life was boring him and was too expensive. Having a homestead of one-hundred-sixty acres in Oregon would merely take hard work and fortitude. He wanted something he could sink his teeth into, and land in Oregon seemed to be the very thing to suit his fancy.
By the next morning, Josiah was all smiles. He had found the very thing that his sister would appreciate. It was the largest wagon constructed, having to be pulled by ten mules and could carry 5000 pounds. The price was steep. Two-hundred-dollars, which was twice as much as a regular wagon. The team was going to set them back at fifty-dollars a head, Then there were all the supplies that would cost at least twelve-hundred-dollars, but if they were frugal and didn’t spend any more than that, it would leave them a little over five-hundred dollars to make the trek.
“I’ll have to go pick up the wagon myself,” Josiah informed Marcel. “While I am gone, you need to pack up everything in the house, sell what you don’t want or can’t fit into the wagon and prepare yourself for the adventure of a lifetime!”
“As long as I can bring everything I love the most, with me, I won’t complain,” Marcel mumbled. “I just hate leaving our good-life behind.”
“We can have a new good-life in Oregon,” Josiah promised her.
Marcel knew nothing about Oregon or what to expect. It sounded so distant and foreign to her. She vaguely remembered hearing about wild Indians out west, but that didn’t seem to daunt the thousands of people who were heading out to Oregon. There had already been a successful departure of immigrants heading out west a few years earlier. It said in the newspaper, Josiah gave her, that a trail was already blazed and all one had to do was follow it. It sounded simple enough, Marcel thought.
Josiah had gotten a flyer that had all the rules written on it that prospective members of the wagon company, heading out west, were to adhere to. It listed all the supplies needed for the long journey and stipulated that women had to be accompanied by a man, in order to join the group. It suggested the type of clothing to be worn, instructing that women wear bloomers or make their skirts into bloomer to make it easier to walk through the rough countryside.
I shall be riding in a wagon, Marcel reasoned. There would be no reason for her to cut up her beautiful dresses to turn them into bloomers. It was those who had too many family members who couldn’t fit in one wagon that would be expected to walk. She didn’t think she even had any suitable boots for walking through rough terrain. She had always lived in the city.
She idly wondered if they had the same kind of entertainment in Oregon, such as plays and musical events, like she enjoyed here? If not, she decided she would have to start at least a musical society of her own, once she arrived.
Marcel decided she would load the buggy with what few possessions they could not bring with them. She could sell all of her grandmother’s out-dated clothes, to a used clothing store, and some of the other items, that didn’t have much sentimental value, to the second-hand shops.
Josiah said it would take a couple of days before he returned with the wagon so it didn’t give her much time to get everything packed and sold. He said there was just enough time for them to make it to Independence before the company moved out in April. This was the middle of March.
Marcel was just stepping down from her buggy, with a bundle in her arms, when her skirt got caught on the step of the buggy. She started to lose her balance but was miraculously caught by two unexpected arms.
“Oh,” Marcel cried out, as she felt herself falling, and then another “Oh,” when she discovered she had been saved from her fall.
Marcel clutched her bundle as she gained her balance, once again, and tried to compose herself, preparing to thank the man who had prevented her fall.
When she turned to face him, her mouth fell open and her body shook. It was a wild Indian who was looking down at her. Where had he come from? St. Louis was supposed to be civilized!
The look in the wild-man’s face startled her. He looked startled as well. There were no words exchanged. He merely smiled at her and then turned, following someone who looked like a Trapper. However, he kept looking over his shoulder at her as he departed. The Hudson Bay Fur Company was just up the road, she thought, as she turned away. That must be where the Trapper and his strange companion were headed.
She tried to shake the experience off, but the look in that heathen’s eyes shocked her to the core. She hoped she never ran into someone like him on their trek, she thought, feeling rattled. Only he had been kind enough to catch her from falling, she realized, giving him a little credit, beyond being totally wild.
“I cain’t believe the price of furs has fallen so low,” Trapper Dan lamented, as he and Raven left Hudson Bay Fur Company. It’s that dang French silk comin’ on the market. Now everone makes their top-hats with silk instead of beaver! At this rate, I might hafta change ma profession!”
Raven didn’t seem to be listening. He was looking up and down the street, in search of that woman he had saved from falling.
“Did ya see that woman I caught from falling?” he asked Trapper Dan. “I think I seen ‘er before, but I can’t remember where.”
“Nope, cain’t say thet I have. Didn’t even see ya catch er,” Trapper Dan admitted.
“I think she was the woman playin’ the piana,” Kagi Taka mumbled. “I never seen ‘er face, but her hair an dress looked the same. I shoulda said something to ‘er, only she looked frightened. I didn’t wanta scare ‘er more.”
“Ya do look a little frightening,” Trapper Dan chuckled. “Only I don’t even know why ya wonder about er? We’re leavin’ soon. You’ll niver see ‘er again. Stick ta yer Sioux women. I know a few beauties who have their eye on ya.”
Kagi Taka smiled. “Yer right. I’ve just never seen anyone quite as lovely as that woman. She looked as good from the front as she did from the back. The very feel an scent of ‘er sent an arrow through ma heart.”
“You’re a romantic one,” Trapper Dan commented. “I think ya need ta find yerself a good Sioux wife ta get them notions out of yer head. No woman in this place would ever consider getting involved with the likes of you. Like ya say, ya frightened ‘er.”
“She not only smelled nice an looked nice, but I believe she has magic fingers. I’m certain she was the one playing that piana.”
“If ya say so. Only
we don’t have time ta consider magic fingers or anythin’ else, right now. Time is a wastin’ an’ our funds are not as plentiful as I hoped. We barely have enough fer supplies ta make it back an ta last the winter.”
“I’ll do enough hunting ta make up for it,” Raven promised.
“Once ya find yerself a wife, I may not see ya as often,” Trapper Dan joked. He worried that one day, Raven would go his own way. He had gotten attached to the lad and they made a good team. But with the fur trade falling off, he may have to go panning for gold, he thought, idly.
Marcel returned to her grandmother’s house. The articles had been sold, but she hadn’t gotten much for them, she thought disappointedly. She busied herself with packing her clothes in trunks and gathering all her grandmother’s jewelry, adding it to her own jewelry and the jewelry left to her by her mother. She could have sold some of it, but every piece was too precious for her to part with. It was like everything else in the house. She felt she was a part of the furniture and all that had surrounded her most of her life. How could she part with any of it, she wondered? The jewelry box was filled to the brim and she locked it with a little key she kept on a chain around her neck.
She opened her grandmother’s music box and started listening to the tune. It was the same song she liked to play on the piano. It reminded her of both her mother and her grandmother since it was their favorite melody as well. The music tinkled out cheerfully as she went about packing the belongings she could not bear to part with and sorted out some that she was willing to leave behind.
“Are you home?” she heard Josiah’s voice calling up to her.
Marcel dropped what she was doing and hurried downstairs.
“You are back!” she exclaimed.
“You won’t believe the wagon I bought,” Josiah smiled. “Come out and look.”
Marcel followed her brother outside and gasped when she took in the sight before her. Parked on the street, taking up the majority of the space, was a huge wagon with a team of ten mules at its head.
Sagebrush Serenade Page 1
