Waltzing With Tumbleweeds by Dusty Richards Read Free Book Online Page B

husband in such a cruel way so she might serve this bushy faced man—the knowledge caused a sickness in the pit of her belly that settled like a great stone. She had read the signs careful enough and the notion bothered her more than she wanted to admit.
    “Where are your people?”
    “Blue legs kill all of them.”
    “They’re closing in on all the wild ones.”
    She shook her head. “Not wild ones, we are on the land our gods have given us.”
    “White man’s taking all that back.”
    “It’s not his!”
    “Don’t matter, he has guns and the army and the Sioux too will bend.”
    “We want none of his res-va-tions.”
    He filled his pipe and looked at her with a hardness that struck her heart like flint and steel. “Then try the happy hunting grounds, that’s where the free ones are.”
    “Better to be dead then,” she said and set the food down.
    “Eat your food,” he said then he lighted the finger packed tobacco with a great sulfurous match.
    “You are not my boss!”
    “You are my woman now,” he said, before letting a small stream of the sweet smoke hiss from his teeth.
    “I am no man’s woman!”
    He pointed the stem at her. “You have no choice, it’s either me or the wolves and I have a warmer lodge.”
    “What will you do with me?” she demanded.
    He frowned in displeasure. “Sell you to a Crow if you don’t settle down.”
    “No never! I would not ever be a slave in their camp.”
    “You talk like a woman that’s got a helluva lot of options.”
    “Op-tions?” She did not know such a word.
    “Meaning you can either go out there and feed them hungry wolves or keep this lodge with me.”
    “My man has—”
    “Don’t matter, you and I are alive and that’s what counts. What’s your name?”
    “Deer Woman.”
    “Red Lyon.”
    “You are part big cat?” She looked at him hard.
    “No, just Red Lyon, my name is not an animal.”
    Deer nodded she understood and picked up the bowl. He was a dominant man and she knew she did not dare to trifle with him. The stew drew her saliva as she considered her fate. He had food and a warm place, she should be grateful for him finding her despite the burden of her sorrows.
    Deer Woman did not share the Lyon’s blankets though she assumed the role of his helper. He moved them southward for several days journey. Astride a powerful horse, she led the pack string. She hoped to see some of her own kind but after many familiar miles with the Big Horn Mountains to the sunset side of her body—she saw no camps of the Sioux. Not finding any sign of her people drove her sorrow deeper—maybe the army had killed all of them. At every turn in the way, she was reminded of the lifeless bodies of her family. She bowed her head and beat her heels on the big horse’s ribs for him to go faster.
    They met three breeds in late afternoon. The threesome stared at her with hungry intentions as they sat their skinny horses breathing clouds of vapors in the cold.
    “We’ll take her for some of our robes,” the thin-faced one laughed. The cruel glint in his eyes undressed her and made Deer shudder under the thick warm blanket that she wore for a coat.
    “Not for sale,” Lyon said.
    “Ten robes!” the breed shouted , acting angry that Lyon did not take him serious.
    “She is not for sale.” Lyon shifted his coat and she knew the great ivory-handed pistol in his belt was exposed for him to draw and fire.
    “You are crazy! She’s a damn Sioux! She’ll split your throat some night in your sleep. I know how to treat them.” Then the man shared another smirk with the other two who looked warmed to the notion of having her for their own purposes.
    “I will trade for your pelts,” Lyon shook his head, “but not the woman.”
    “You have powder and lead?” the Breed asked but he could hardly keep from snatching looks at her.
    Lyon agreed and they spent the afternoon bartering on a blanket, despite the falling temperature, they acted like they were very