Shattered Lives (Flynn Family Saga Book 1) by Erica Graham Read Free Book Online Page A

breath and started to wade
through the powdery snow.
    An hour later, more clouds blew in from the west.
    Flynn turned and tried to get back to Timmy before
the storm, but it started to snow again, thick and fast, obliterating his
tracks.  He made it to a solitary pine and took shelter under its branches,
waiting out the storm.  He chanted to keep awake—and to pray for strength.  For
a moment, he thought he saw a white buffalo standing a few yards away, but the
snow fell harder, hiding the animal from his sight, and when the snow stopped,
there was no sign of it.
    Or of the shelter he had built for Timmy.
    *  *  *
    Three days later, starving and desperate, Flynn
found the stand of trees.  The shelter was buried in snow.  Frantically, he dug
through the snow with his bare hands.  “Timothy!  Tim!”
    Only silence answered him.
    Finally, he found the boy.  For one brief moment, he
thought Timmy was asleep.  But his skin was cold, and his chest did not rise or
fall.
    Grief clawed at his heart like a wildcat, but he
could not cry.  Flynn swallowed his grief and began to build a scaffold.  He
wrapped Timmy’s body in the thin blanket he carried with him everywhere.  He
placed the small carved dog beneath the scaffold.  He had no drum, no pipe. 
So, he stamped his feet against the frozen ground and chanted the prayer for
the dead.  As he chanted, he forgot about the rough fabric of his trousers and
the constricting collar of his shirt.  He felt a part of his tiyospaye for the first time since Pathfinder banished him.  All that existed was Earth
and Sky and the song.
    And then the song ended.  Eagle Heart heard the
silence of the prairie.  It was as if he were the only living thing in the
entire world.
    He fell to his knees and bowed his head.
    “Who died?”
    Eagle Heart rose and turned, drawing the kitchen
knife.
    Alexander Ridgeton stood behind him.  “Rob?”
    Eagle Heart shook his head.  “My name is Eagle
Heart,” he said in Lakota
    Slowly, Ridgeton nodded.  “And my name is Shadow Beneath
The Trees,” he said in the same language.
    Eagle Heart turned back to the scaffold.  “His name
was Timothy.  He—he was good to me.”
    Ridgeton laid his hand gently on Eagle Heart’s
shoulder.  “I’m sure you were good to him, too.”  He hesitated.  “How did he
die?”
    Eagle Heart turned to Ridgeton.  “It was my fault. 
I left him alone, and he froze to death.”
    Ridgeton squeezed Eagle Heart’s shoulder.  “I’m sure
you had a good reason for leaving him alone.”
    Eagle Heart shook his head.  “Not good enough.”
    Ridgeton was silent a long time.  “Let me guess.  You
were out of food, and you went hunting.  Then, you got caught in the second storm
and couldn’t get back.”
    Eagle Heart nodded miserably.
    Ridgeton sighed.  “Sometimes, no matter how hard you
try, or how wise you are, there are no good choices.”
    Startled, Eagle Heart looked at him.
    “Come on.  I just killed a deer, and there is too
much meat for one person.”  Ridgeton turned Eagle Heart away from the scaffolds
and led him through the tall grass to a campsite.  “Why don’t you take care of
deer while I build a fire?”
    Eagle Heart nodded.  He drew the knife he had
stolen.
    Ridgeton made a face.  “Where did you get that
thing?”
    “Mrs. Josephson’s kitchen.”
    Ridgeton snorted.  He rummaged in his pack and took
out a knife.  He handed it to Eagle Heart, hilt first.  “Here.”
    It was the knife the soldiers had taken from him,
the knife Pathfinder had given him.  For a moment, Eagle Heart saw Pathfinder’s
solemn face as he handed his adopted son the blade.  Eagle Heart drew a deep
breath.  He took the knife and began to butcher the deer.  By the time the sun
had set, steaks sizzled in an old iron frying pan that Ridgeton had produced
from his pack.  The two men ate in silence.  Finally, Ridgeton cleared his
throat.  “What are your plans, son?”
    Eagle Heart stared into