Josiah's Saga

Chapter 1: Josiahs Saga

Josiah shifted in his saddle as the fort came into view. It had been a good 5 years since he had been to this territory. The last time he was here, feeling the need to retreat into a more quiet and serene environment, he had trekked into the mountains to seek enlightenment and to flee his fathers' overzealous religious demands. But he was ill prepared, and he soon found himself half frozen in a freak storm, the gale force winds so powerful it made the redwoods bend and crack, branches flew to the ground, biting rain stung his skin as hail the size of marbles pelted him. Taking refuge under the trees provided little protection from the pounding ice. The thunder cracked overhead so loud he could have sworn God himself had drove his mighty fist into a stone mountain top. Lightning bolts cut through the air dancing across the darken sky opening the heavens for one split second and closing them again just as quickly, relinquishing its power back to the darkness. To make matters worse he had little to no provisions. Had it not been for the French-Canadian trapper Pierre Pasquinell finding him and offering him refuge in his cabin Josiah knew he would have died on that mountain. From that time on he and Pierre had become fast friends. Josiah remembered that day as if it were yesterday.

He had attempted to build a lean-to for shelter from the elements, but the strong aggressive wind had swept away all efforts. The torrential downpour had soaked Josiah to the bone, and the assaulting hail stones had scratched and cut his skin. His only food was some berries he had plucked from a nearby bush. Any game that he might have hunted were all nestled in their dens, waiting out the storm as well. Overtaken by exhaustion and hunger, Josiah closed his eyes and curled into a tight ball at the base of the tree, covering himself with the only protection he had with him, a wool blanket. His four-day trek into the mountains for enlightenment and peace had turned into a four-day nightmare.

"Allo! Allo, monsieur!"

Josiah felt himself being shaken awake and yelled at in some foreign language. He slowly came out of his slumber and propped himself up on one arm to face his visitor. The man that stood over him looked like the quintessential trapper. He wore a long buckskin coat with trousers to match. His face was mostly covered by his thick black beard. Yet, his brown eyes showed kindness and what seemed like concern for the lost soul he had discovered.

Josiah, weakened considerably, sat up slowly shading his eyes from the bright sun that had chosen this moment to peek out from the clouds, finally chasing away the maddening storm, bursting forth to once again reign as victor despite the still drizzling rain.

"Hello. My name is Josiah Sanchez. Do you think you could give me a hand?"

The man gave Josiah a puzzled look, indicating that he had not understood a word Josiah had just said. The man then, with a regretful tone, replied, "Monsieur, Je ne parle pas anglaise."(sir, I do not speak English).

Great, Josiah thought. His prayer had been answered, but by a man who could not understand his situation. Josiah suppressed a chuckle at the irony of it all, pondering his situation for a brief moment, he decided he was not going to let a language barrier keep him from his emancipation. He looked the man straight in the eyes and with his right hand motioned to himself. "Josiah." He said slowly, then pointed to the man, hoping he would understand that he was asking for his name.

The man was a quick study and gave Josiah an understanding smile nodding his head. He then mimicked Josiah's motion on himself and said, "Pierre.'" To this Josiah nodded to indicate understanding. Well, he thought to himself, now that the introductions are done, how do I make him understand that I need to get out of here? Again, he pondered the idea. Hand signals had seemed to be effective up to this point. Josiah decided, when in a sticky situation, to go with what you know. Once more he looked the man straight in the eyes. Josiah motioned to himself, then signaled away from his present position as he said, "I need to get out of here." He knew the man had no use for his words, but old habits die hard. A perplexed expression came over the man's features. Josiah began to fear that he would never get his point across. Yet, after a moment, a light seemed to go off in the man's eyes.

"Ah! Oui, oui. Tu vas."(Ah, Yes yes. You go.) The man said as he mirrored Josiah's earlier actions. With that he bent over to help Josiah to his feet. He was not an overly large man, but his size betrayed the solidness of his structure. With one motion Josiah was on his feet and ready to be led wherever the kind man was willing to take him. As long as it was someplace dry and warm, Josiah thought. Pierre' had taken Josiah to his cabin, nestled in a clearing not more than two miles from where he had found him. There he had supplied Josiah with dry clothes, then motioned for him to take a spot near the raging fireplace. As he did a young lady, who must have been Pierre's wife, cautiously approached him, bearing a steaming bowl of rabbit stew. She handed Josiah the bowl and smiled as the two young boys who could not have been much more than 3 and 4 stared wide eyed at him.

"Jacques, Marcel" Pierre scolded, sending the two young men scurrying away and up into their loft.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah was brought back to the present by the cawing of two crows as they argued over the small insect that would undoubtedly become someone's dinner. The sound did not keep Josiah from his thoughts as he rode, he leaned back in his saddle thinking about the past.

Pierre had been trapping these mountains for years and had made friends with most of the native tribes about, The Arapaho, Sioux, Cheyenne and Pawnee.

The trapper had taken it upon himself not only to teach Josiah the ins and outs of trapping and surviving in these mountains but when and where to trade with the tribes as well as learning the languages, and in turn Josiah taught him English.

It wasn't long before Josiah too was accepted among the tribes just as well as Pierre. In the Lakota camp Josiah was even given his own tipi as Pierre's cabin was barely big enough for himself, his wife and their two sons Jacques, then 5, and Marcel 4.

It was here among these people that Josiah first fell in love. Her name was Prairie Moon. She was a Lakota girl, the sister of Pierre's wife, Snowbird. Josiah was awestruck and the two fell madly passionately in love. Josiah spent that year with the Sioux, studying with the holy man Stone Calf, helping Pierre with his traps, and spending every spare minute with Prairie Moon. She had helped to teach him Lakota and in turn he taught her to speak English. It seemed the two had been meant for each other. Again, Josiah's mind went back in time to the day he first met Prairie Moon.

Josiah and Pierre' had brought Snowbird to visit her Lakota family while they did some trading. Prairie Moon had walked into camp with several other women from a day of gathering roots, berries, and firewood. She had a load of wood in her arms and a bag made from rabbit skins over her shoulder filled with the things she'd gathered throughout the day. She'd glanced at him as she passed by giggling and talking with the other girls. Every movement she made seemed as if she floated like an angel in the clouds. Her long jet-black hair was braided into two braids secured with thin pieces of softened deer skin. She wore the simple doe skin dress adorned with beaded accents and shells that chimed as she walked. Her dark brown eyes seemed to pierce through his chest straight to his heart. He remembered how his heartbeat like a drum just at the site of her. And when she smiled it was as if the heavens had opened up and he could see nothing but the sparkling of the stars.

He had been afraid to approach her then but the next season---

Pierre and Josiah bundled their furs and placed them on the travois. Josiah tightened the rope over the furs, securing the bundles of beaver, fox, badger, bear, deer, and elk, making sure they were covered from the elements and would not fall off should they encounter rough terrain or have to cross a river.

"We will do well this year Josiah." Pierre' remarked proudly. "We first trade with the Sioux then we go to St. Louie this year."

"St Louis? Why so far Pierre?"

"The fancy white men in the big houses, they like the beaver hats. They pay very well for the furs to decorate their fancy clothes for the ladies." he chuckled. "And there is a man there, I have heard he will finance good trappers for a portion of the profits, I want to talk to him."

"Think I might want to stay with the Sioux for a while. Do some more study'in' with Stone Calf, that is unless you need my help in St Louis?"

"No, my friend, I can handle the furs and the trading myself this time." Pierre' smiled. "I think maybe it is not just Stone Calf you wish to study though, eh." his smile His accompanied by a jovial wink. "I think maybe it is Prairie Moon you wish to learn more about, no?"

Josiah's face turned a bright crimson, and he averted his eyes tending to his work as if Pierre's statement had not fazed him. "Your sister-in-law? Yes, well she is very pretty but I've only seen her a time or two when we've been in the camp."

"Now Josiah, I have seen the way you look at her, I have also seen the way she looks back."

This brought a smile to the ex-preachers' face as he finished his task and looked over to his friend.

"Do you think? Maybe she… would… I mean we could talk…Do you really think ...?"

"I think maybe you should ask her." Pierre chuckled as he led the horse to the travois and called for his wife and sons. "Come, we will go to the Lakota camp first."

Josiah remembered how nervous he was as he walked into that camp with Pierre' and his family that day. He hadn't shaved in a while and his rugged features were masked under a bush of thick stubble. Josiah rubbed his bristly chin somewhat embarrassed. Then he saw her---

Prairie Moon stepped out of her father's tipi a few paces behind the chief and his wife. The moment he laid eyes on her Josiah felt as if the whole village had disappeared and all that remained was the beautiful angel who had glided from the dwelling into his line of vision. Josiah felt his heart flutter as he gazed at her and his hand went to his chest, a captivated sigh escaping from his lips. He was unaware of Pierre's chortle as the trapper helped his wife to dismount.

Prairie Moon smiled joyfully when she saw her sister and immediately moved to greet her with a warm embrace. The two quickly struck up a conversation. Josiah was oblivious of course to what it was about, but the giggling and glances from Prairie made him blush. He was thankful his face was hidden behind his mangy beard. As the girls headed over to greet their father and mother. Josiah made himself busy helping Pierre.

+ + + + + + +

A few days later, Pierre' had left to do the trading leaving Snowbird and the boys to visit with their Lakota family.

It had taken a few more days of Josiah talking with the holy man Stone Calf, even though his attention was more on Prairie Moon, before he finally got up the nerve, with Stone Calf's encouragement, to even talk to the object of his desire.

"Why do you not speak to her?" the older Lakota man asked as he painted drawings that told the stories of the Lakota people onto the cured and softened hide, he had stretched before him. It had not gone unnoticed that Josiah's interests were more on the young maiden Prairie Moon than on his teachings.

"Speak to who?" Josiah quickly pulled his attention from watching Prairie Moon as she worked alongside her mother and sister in front of their teepee scraping at a deer hide, back to what the village elder was showing him.

Stone Calf nodded toward Prairie.

Josiah smiled "Oh, I, well, I don't want to interrupt them," he stammered glancing over at the girl once more then again quickly looking away.

Stone Calf grinned as he continued with his drawings. "You have no courage; I think your name should be mouse and not Big Bear."

His comment brought a hearty guffaw from Josiah. "I think maybe you're right." Josiah agreed, until his tone changed to a more disappointed one. "But, every time I try to talk to her, I get all tongued tied."

This time it was Stone Calf's turn to laugh as he gave a tilt of his head toward where Prairie had stood and was walking alone toward the river with two empty water bags.

"Perhaps it is time your tongue became untied."

Josiah turned and watched her. Then suddenly stood. "Maybe you're right Stone Calf if you'll excuse me." With that Josiah strode toward the river.

Prairie Moon smiled to herself as she reached the river and stooped near the bank filling her bags with water. She sensed more than saw the man behind her as he was careful not to startle her.

"He---here." he stuttered. "Le—le---Let me do that." He reached to help her fill the bags when she refused.

Shaking her head, no, she told him in her own language. "Woman's work."

"Nothin says a man can't help." He smiled. "Sorry, I'm, Uh, not very good, at speaking your language,"

Prairie glanced over, giving him a small grin and handed him one of the water bags to fill. "Not too bad"

Josiah's eyes stayed fixed on the girl before him as he took the bag from her, then reached to place it into the river. At the same time, he stepped on an unstable stone causing him to trip. He toppled toward the river but caught himself just in time. Instead of falling forward as he crouched down, he bent backwards and ended up on his rear. This brought an outright laugh from the girl and Josiah felt his face heat with embarrassment before he too fell into a fit of laughter.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah looked back fondly on those days, remembering them as if it were yesterday. How he stumbled over his words when he talked to her, the way she smiled at him and laughed when he tripped. He remembered so clearly the days of long walks into the forests, and prairies. Sitting with her around the fire listening as Stone Calf told stories of Coyote and the white buffalo, the artichoke and the muskrat, and the Faithful Lovers. He remembered their many walks along the river, the day of their first kiss and the night their love and passion overcame them and could not be silenced. They had loved under the stars, a more beautiful night he had not experienced since.

When spring finally came Josiah had made up his mind to make Prairie Moon his wife. She was the daughter of a chief, so he gathered what furs he had collected, and a couple of good ponies then summoned the courage to confront Chief Standing Bear.

Unfortunately, the meeting had not gone as planned. The Chief abruptly refused the gifts and said no to Josiah's proposal. He did not want his daughter to marry a preacher's son for fear one day she would turn against her people and her beliefs, he was unsure that Josiah could provide for his daughter properly. He'd made it clear that he had nothing against him as a man, but he did not want his daughter in the white world, It was then that Chief Standing Bear admitted that he had already Promised Prairie to another.

Prairie Moon, being the obedient daughter, although heartbroken, regrettably accepted her father's ruling.

Josiah still remembered to this day the chief's words… "You are a good man Josiah, but you are not the man for my daughter. You are not like Pasquinell, you are still too much in the white world, you have said yourself you will one day go back there, I do not want my daughter to live in that world. One day our two peoples will have war, it will be soon I fear, then where would she be. I have promised her to another."

Josiah had been gutted, he implored Prairie to run away with him, but she had refused. She knew her father would send the worriers after her, and Josiah would be killed, that was a fate she could not bear.

So Broken and forlorn Josiah left the mountains and the Sioux never to return.

Now at the request of his friend Pierre, Josiah was going back, well at least to the fort. Pierre had sent him a letter and it had taken nearly two years for the message to find him. He'd asked Josiah to meet him at Fort Defiance. He missed his old friend and had something important to discuss with him. There was a rendezvous held outside the fort every spring. Pierre had always made it a habit to attend. Josiah hoped that he would be there again this year.

As Josiah reached the outskirts of the fort, he could see the tents and tipis scattered about. Small makeshift trading areas were strewn throughout, smoke from the cooking fires billowed into the air. It was as if a small town had sprung up in front of the fort.

Looks from trappers and Indian alike shadowed him as he followed the single trail leading into the garrison. He dismounted once he reached the general store. The fort had only a few soldiers to watch over the gathering. It was mostly used for trading now. But there were rumors more soldiers were coming.

Josiah tied his horse to the hitching post and started to go inside the trade goods store when two young boys came bursting out of the door. Both were obviously of Indian descent, long dark hair that reached to the top of their shoulders and clad in buckskins. An older man came out behind them shouting in French.

"Yes Papa" the older boy called back as he ran off toward the open gates.

"Pardon sir" he greeted Josiah. "The garçons they are wild and discourteous sometimes, but they are good boys' He apologized in his thick French-Canadian accent. "Come, I can get you something? Have you come to trade?"

As the two men laid eyes on each other sudden recognition hit them in unison.

"Josiah?"

"Pierre?"

Both men let out a hearty laugh and embraced each other.

"Josiah my dear friend!" Pierre shouted, "I hoped beyond hope you would find us again!"

"I'm sorry," Josiah quickly apologized. "I just recently received your letter. I've been traveling a lot the last few years."

"Snowbird!" Pierre called to his wife. "Come see who has found us."

"Was that?" Josiah pointed toward the two boys who had run past him.

Pierre nodded proudly. "Jacques and Marcel, yes, they have grown, no?"

Josiah shook his head. "They weren't more than babies the last time I saw them."

Josiah's comment no sooner left his mouth than Pierre's wife walked out of the door.

"Josiah!" She greeted him with a smile. "It has been much too long."

The big man turned to her then pulled her into a fond embrace. "Still as beautiful as ever Snowbird." He smiled, holding her out at arm's length so he could look at her. "You haven't changed a bit."

Snowbird blushed. "Nor have you."

Josiah's attention was suddenly pulled from his friends to the little child who stood near Snowbird tugging on her skirt. She could not have been more than 4, dark hair that reached just passed her shoulders and bright blue eyes that looked up at him from behind her mother as she chewed on a piece of licorice.

Josiah crouched down in front of the little girl. She looked vaguely familiar, as if he should know her, but that was impossible. "And who do we have here?" He smiled.

The little girl immediately stepped farther behind Snowbird who laid a comforting hand on the top of the little girl's head.

"This is Cheyenne." Snowbird answered. "Say hello Cheyenne."

The shy little girl hid her face behind her mother's skirt.

Josiah smiled understanding and stood, as Pierre' reached down and scooped the little girl up in his arms.

"Now, now Cheyenne, Josiah is not going to bite you, be polite and say hello to our friend."

Obligingly the timid little girl looked over at Josiah. "Bon jour." she greeted him in a small quiet little voice then quickly hid her face in Pierre's shoulder.

"Brave' fille Cheyenne, Good girl, now go play, alle'." he smiled as he set the little girl down and watched as she ran back into the store.

"Cheyenne is the reason I have asked you to come Josiah. She is the something important I must discuss with you." Pierre' admitted seriously.

Josiah looked over at his old friend confused.

Pierre' laid a friendly hand on Josiah's shoulder, "Come my friend we have much to talk about" he said as he led Josiah inside, through the trading post to the back of the store, where the living quarters were. The accommodations were small but cozy, the main room doubled for both cooking and eating area with a stove, a sink with a water pump, cupboards on the walls and a place for a counter underneath where Snowbird prepared the meals. In the middle of the room was a kitchen table with four chairs. At the other end of the room a double bed, a few steps in the other direction from the table, stairs led to a loft where the boys slept. Under the stare case a small room just big enough for a child sized bed for the littlest one. Pierre' motioned for Josiah to sit at the table, as he pulled a jug from the top of the cupboard and retrieved two tin cups.

Jerking the cork from the jug with his teeth Pierre' then set the cups down on the table and filled each one before returning the cork. He put the jug on the tabletop and handed Josiah one of the cups full of the robust liquid.

Pierre' took a drink from his mug then looked across the table at his friend.

"It has been a long time, no? tell me Josiah, what have you been up to all these years? Have you settled down? A wife maybe?"

Josiah took a drink then set the cup down with a sour look, the liquid burned sliding down his throat. He coughed then grinned approvingly. "Been a while since I had anything that stout." he laughed before answering.

"No, no I haven't settled anywhere, and haven't found a woman, to tell the truth I haven't been looking. I'm not ready for that."

"You were once." Pierre' pointed out looking over his cup at him waiting for his reaction.

"That was a lifetime ago." Josiah said sadly, instinctively knowing what Pierre' was referring to and he wasn't anxious to talk about it.

"I am sorry old friend, I know this is not a subject you wish to look back on, But I am afraid you must."

Josiah stared into the cup in front of him. "How is she? Prairie. Is she well?" he asked, not meeting his friends gaze, a melancholy expression crossing his rugged features.

Before Pierre could answer he looked up as Snowbird entered the room.

"Where is the little one?" he asked.

"She is with Jacques and Marcel."

Pierre' nodded approvingly as Snowbird walked over putting an encouraging hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Have you told him?"

"Not yet, I was waiting for you."

Josiah looked at them both, curiously. "Just what is all this about you two? And what did you mean that your daughter is the reason you asked me to come here. Just what is it you're trying to tell me Pierre'? Or not tell me?"

Pierre looked up at his wife as she smiled nodding reassuringly. "Go on, tell him."

Looking back to his friend, Pierre' took another drink and ran his sleeve over his mouth.

"Cheyenne is not our daughter Josiah." He hesitated before he finished. "She is, was, Prairie Moons child."

"Was?" Josiah asked warily as if he was afraid to hear the answer.

"My Sister died in childbirth." Snowbird began, as she sat next to him putting a comforting hand on his. "I was there when Cheyenne was born. I laid the baby in Prairies arms, she named her, asked me to care for her and before she died, told me who Cheyenne's father was, she is yours Josiah, Cheyenne is your daughter."

Josiah was in shock as he stared at her. "My? My daughter? How is that possible? We, I mean she married someone else."

Snowbird smiled. "Yes, but it was you she loved, she was with child when you left Josiah, but she said nothing, she did not want to worry you, and our father had already refused your offer of marriage and promised her to another man. Isaiah Hondo was not a kind man; he did not treat her well. He brought her back to her people for the birth, then he left to trade with the crow. He was killed for cheating one of their worriers and trying to take his woman. The birth was hard, there was nothing that could be done. Prairie Moon was too weak. Before she died, she asked that we care for Cheyenne until we could find you. She has your eyes you know."

Josiah finished what was left in his mug in one big gulp. Reaching over for the jug he took out the cork and filled his cup again then quickly taking another swallow.

"Easy my friend," Pierre consoled him. "I understand this is much to take all at once, but you must face it with a clear head."

"Why? Why didn't she leave with me? Why didn't she tell me then? Why didn't you? How could her father let her marry another man when she was carrying my child?"

"No one knew Josiah," Snowbird explained. "Not until Isaiah brought her back. She did not even confide in me until that day."

Josiah guzzled the last of his drink as if it were as smooth as water. He set the tin cup on the table and stood. "I need some air."

Snowbird motioned for her husband to follow the ex-preacher as he went back out to the front and stood on the board walk leaning against the hitching post. He watched as the children played ball. The little girls' two brothers protectively watching over her, making sure she got her turn to throw the ball.

Cheyenne laughed and giggled as the older boys chased her in circles. Only once did she stumble, and the boys quickly went to her side helping her up and brushing the dust from her buckskin dress.

"They watch over her."

Pierre' nodded. "To them she is their sister. They love her. They will miss her."

"Miss her?" Josiah turned to him.

"She is your daughter, surely you will want to take her with you. After you come to know each other first of corse."

Josiah shook his head. "Pierre' I can't take her with me, what would I do with a child, a little girl? I never know from one day to the next where I'm going to lay my head. I live by this now." He rested his hand on his gun. "That's no life for a child."

"Are you saying you do not want her my friend?" Pierre's concern echoed in his voice.

Josiah spun around almost angrily. "Of corse I'm not saying that. I---" his tone softened "I just---My daughter---" his voice trailed as he turned back to watch the little girl at play, he knew now why she had looked so familiar to him when he first saw her, she looked like her mother, the woman he had loved so fiercely for what seemed like a generation ago. "She looks like her you know, Prairie Moon."

"Oui, Josiah, but she has your eyes." Pierre' put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

Josiah's disbelief had turned to amazement as reality began to set in. He had a daughter, a beautiful little girl. So much time had already passed, he'd missed so much. Her birth, her first step, her first smile. Her first word. His thoughts turned to the child's mother. How he had loved Prairie Moon's smile, how he'd missed her, how much he had cared for her, loved her. If he had only known, he would have come back for her. What would this child think of him when she was old enough to comprehend, the man who deserted her mother, would she understand, would she comprehend why he could not stay with her now.

"Does she know Pierre'? does Cheyenne know about her mother? About me?"

"No." Pierre' stood next to his friend looking out as they continued to watch the children play. "She knows only that I am papa, and Snowbird is mama. We had planned to tell her when she was old enough. But now that you are here."

Their conversation was interrupted as the three children came running over to them.

"Father" the eldest, eleven-year-old Jacques spoke first. "Can we go outside the fort and visit White Feather? Cheyenne wants to play with Little Fawn."

"Can we papa? Please?" nine-year-old Marcel begged.

Pierre' looked down at his children.

"Go on then, mind Cheyenne, and do not stay long, your mother will have your dinner ready soon."

Josiah watched as Jacques and Marcel took Cheyenne by the hand and hurried off to play.

"Are you sure it's safe out there Pierre'?"

Pierre' smiled at Josiah's concern. "They will be fine." He assured him. "They have done this, many times. Come inside my friend there is still much to discuss."

Josiah took one last look as the children hurried through the open gate and out among the tipis. he tipped his hat off his head letting it hang behind him and ran his hand through his short thick dark curls, a thoughtful sigh escaped him as he turned and followed Pierre' back inside.

Inside the small home adjoining the trading post. Snowbird stood at the counter kneading out the bread dough.

"Tell me more, about Prairie Moon. What happened after I left?" He urged them as he pulled the chair out from the table and sat down.

"There is not much to tell." Snowbird said as she put the bread dough on the pan and covered it with a cloth to let it rise. "She was sad, very sad after you left. Even when Isaiah came to claim her, she begged our father not to make her marry him. But he had struck a bargain and would not go back on his word. Our father believed Isaiah was a good man, his mother was Arapaho. He was well known among the tribes, a trapper like Pierre. It was not until later that he learned he was not the man we thought he was. He liked the fire water and drank from morning until night when he would sleep. He was mean when he drank. He had begun to cheat many that he traded with; and he kept Prairie Moon away from her family. When we did see her, she was very quiet, afraid to talk. We knew he was beating her. She had the bruises. It was a miracle she did not lose the baby. My father regretted his decision, but it was too late."

Josiah hung his head leaning over, he rested his forehead in his hands, and his elbows on his knees. Anger grew deep inside him, mingling with his anguish. "I should have stayed." He growled under his breath. "I should have stayed and fought for her."

Snowbird and Pierre shared a knowing look as Pierre stepped over and patted Josiah on the shoulder before taking a seat across the table.

"It was not your fault Josiah, it was fate, and fate can sometimes be very cruel."

Snowbird crossed the distance to where Josiah sat and crouched down in front of him putting her hands on his.

"Prairie Moon loved you very much, and she knew you loved her. Let that comfort you in your grief. She has left you a great gift. Your daughter, a product of the love you shared. She, needs you now."

"Needs me? she doesn't need me. She needs you." He looked at each of them, his sorrow and guilt written in his painfilled blue eyes. "I mean nothing to her, you are her parents, you are the ones she knows and loves. Who would she see in me? The man of God who left her mother to be beaten and mistreated."

Snowbird squeezed Josiah's hands in her own. "Stop, this is not how Prairie Moon saw you, this is not how we see you. You have much to offer Josiah, you are a good man, a kind and generous man. My sister knew this, she loved you so very much, and she loved your child. Will this be how you repay her? By running from the beautiful product of your love? Cheyenne will learn to see you as we all do. She will know what her mother knew, the kindness in your heart. If you give her a chance. She is a little girl. She needs only love and nurturing. Stay with us, get to know her. It is what Prairie would have wanted, and I know it is what you want, in here." She touched his chest. "Give it time, and then decide."

Josiah's eyes glistened as he held back his emotions. Reflections of the woman he had loved and the little girl she had left behind consumed his thoughts until Slowly he nodded. "I'd like that."

---- One Month Later----

Outside the general store Josiah tightened the sinch on his saddle as Jacques and Marcel stood watching.

"I thought you weren't going to leave until tomorrow, Josiah?" Marcel asked disappointedly.

"I'm not, I'm taking your little sister for a ride."

"Can we go?" Jacques piped up.

"No, you cannot." Snowbird answered, in Josiah's stead as she stepped out from the general store a picnic basket in one hand and Cheyenne in the other.

"Josiah's taking me on a picnic!" Cheyenne told them excitedly, letting go of her mother's hand and running over to meet him.

"I helped make the bread Josiah and the sandwiches." The little girl beamed.

Josiah crouched down in front of her. "And I bet you did a very good job too." He grinned, gently poking her playfully in the tummy before gathering her in his arms.

Cheyenne giggled and hugged him around the neck before he set her on his horse. Josiah stepped into the stirrups and mounted on behind her.

"Can we go tomorrow, Josiah?" Jacques asked hopefully. "You said we could go fishing again before you leave."

"Boy's." Snowbird scolded. "Josiah has not had a moments peace without the two of you badgering him, go on now and help your father, he needs you to help unload the freight in the back."

"Ah mother." Marcel complained.

"Go now." Snowbird ushered them off then handed the picnic basket up to Josiah. "Have fun, and do not let her talk you into eating so many wild berries or I will be up with her all night with a stomachache again." She chuckled.

"I promise." Josiah grinned sheepishly before turning his horse toward the fort gates.

"Adieu mama." Cheyenne waved back excitedly.

The rendezvous over for another year. The tipis and lean-to's all packed up and gone, left the open prairie outside the confines of the fort desolate.

"Will you tell me the fairy story again Josiah?"

"Again?" he chuckled.

"Please? I like it."

"Alrighty,.." he agreed tickling her ribs then cleared his throat..

In Fairy Town, in Fairy Town,
Where Fairy folk go up and down,
Where Fairy children, wee and gay,
Frisk and romp in Fairy play,
Every day's a holiday!
And every night is sweeter still,
For when, behind the Fairy hill
The tiny Fairy sun goes down,
It's sleepy time in Fairy Town!

Sleepy time in Fairy Town!
Sleep, sleep–sleep–
While the stars of Fairy Town
Safe watch keep.
All the Fairy babies, so,
Off to Dreamland softly go–
Sleep–sleep–sleep!

In Fairy Town, in Fairy Town,
Each baby in a moonlight gown,
Lies and dreams the livelong night.
Fairy babies are so white,
White and pink and wee and bright!
Petals of a rose a-curl
Make a Fairy baby girl;
Autumn leaves, all dear and brown,
Make the boys of Fairy Town!

Sleepy time in Fairy Town!
Sleep, sleep–sleep–
While the stars of Fairy Town
Safe watch keep.
Like the Fairy babies, go
Off to Dreamland, softly, so–
Sleep–sleep–sleep!

"Now the other one!" the little girl urged him.

"The other one?" Josiah laughed.

"Uh huh, the one about the leeprcans."

"You mean the leprechauns?" he corrected.

"Yes, that one Please Josiah, tell me the story."

"Don't you get tired of my stories little one?" He smiled down at her.

"No, I like your stories, Papa doesn't know very many, but he sings funny songs. Mama tells us stories Grandfather told her when she was little, about the Coyote and Wakan Tonka and Wakinyan the sky spirit. I like those too, But I like your stories about the faries and princesses best."

The ex- preacher wrapped his arm around the little girl hugging her to him. "Well, I like telling them to you. Let's see now, a long time ago in a far-off land

+ + + + + + +

As they rode Josiah did as the little girl bid. Telling her story after story, letting her take the reins of his horse, she was a fast learner and was a natural when it came to riding. He had found that when it came to Cheyenne, he could deny her nothing. As the weeks had gone by and he spent more and more time getting to know his daughter. He could not help but love her. He had enjoyed every moment he'd spent with her. And more and more, he saw in her traces of her mother. Sometimes it was the way she smiled, or her soft-spoken voice, or just the way she walked, her mannerism, even her fondness for animals, she had a gift, like her mother had had, a tender way with wild things. And she had, his, temper.

The days had gone by so fast, and he knew it was time he was on his way. But leaving her would be hard, it was one of the hardest choices he had ever had to make. But he knew it was for the best.

They had spent this last day together, laughing, playing, having a picnic near the lake, wading barefoot along the shoreline, and looking for pretty colored rocks, gifts for her brothers, mama, and papa. And one special rock she had found just for him. They were enjoying themselves so much that Josiah had lost all track of time. By the time they had returned it was nearly dark and Cheyenne had fallen asleep leaning back up against him, her head on his chest as he kept an arm wrapped around her so she wouldn't fall. He could not describe the feeling he felt holding his little daughter next to him. It warmed his heart and quieted his disgruntled soul.

Pierre and Snowbird sat outside the store enjoying the quiet night. Jacques and Marcel were sound asleep in their beds and there was no one at the fort now, the small group of soldiers had left and would be away for a few days. The couple looked up and smiled as Josiah rode in and stopped in front of them. Noting that the little girl was fast asleep, Pierre stood and moved to take Cheyenne while Josiah dismounted.

"I will take her to bed." He offered. When Josiah stopped him.

"No Pierre, please, let me."

"Of corse" the burly Frenchman smiled as he handed the sleeping little girl to his friend. he and his wife watched as Josiah carried the child inside. Both shared a knowing look.

Josiah carefully carried Cheyenne to her tiny room, he could barely fit inside, as he gently laid her on her bed and carefully pulled her moccasin's off, then covered her with a blanket. He stood there a moment watching her. Her braids were disheveled, a product of the play and fast ride she'd begged for. He thought back on the day--- swinging her in his arms, playing chase and hunting for rocks. And the skunk. He chuckled inwardly remembering how lucky they were not to have been sprayed. In the end Cheyenne had tossed the critter a piece of bread, and it had been satisfied with that, and gone in another direction. He suddenly remembered the rocks and pulled out several from his pocket, laying them on the nightstand next to her bed. Before he blew out the oil lamp he glanced back at her once more. How beautiful she was. So much like her mother, how could he ever deny her? Yet how could he take her from the only home she had ever known. How could he give her such an uncertain future. Slowly Josiah bent down, laying a soft kiss on her forehead before he left her room and made his way outside where Pierre and his wife waited.

The solemness in Josiah's demeanor did not go unnoticed as they watched him emerge from inside, go over to his horse then lead the animal toward the stables without a word, it was obvious the man was in turmoil. When he'd finally returned, he handed Snowbird the picnic basket, then leaned back against a pole. He stared at the ground for a long moment until he finally looked over at them.

"I'm not taking her with me." He announced.

"But she is your daughter." Snowbird said partly relieved and partly in disbelief.

"I don't have a daughter, I have a goddaughter, that is if it's alright with you?"

"A god daughter?" Pierre asked mirroring his wife's puzzlement. "But we thought, you wanted her?"

"Oh, I want her, and I love her." Josiah answered, his emotion clearly coming through in his tone. "I am so proud of her, you don't know just how much she means to me. But she has a family here, she has a mother and a father, and brothers. I can't take her away from that. I won't. I have nothing to offer her, no home, no stability. But if it's alright I would like to come back and visit off and on? I can be her God father, a favorite uncle. I don't want her to know who I am, not yet, and I just can't uproot her now, maybe if I had a home, something steady. But I don't. I don't know when or if I ever will. So Like Prairie Moon, I'm asking you to keep doing what you are doing, being her parents, to take care of her. I'll send you money as often as I can--- and I---I---" Josiah stopped as his voice cracked, he turned away as a tear crept out of the corner of his eye. Once he'd gotten his emotions under control, he turned back to face them. "I'd really like to come visit as much as I can?"

Pierre stood crossing the distance between them. "You are welcome anytime Mon-ami, and there is no need to send money, she is part of our family."

"I insist, I want to. Anything she wants or needs you just ask. I may not be able to be her father, but I will always be there if she needs me."

+ + + + + + +

The next morning Josiah was up early, he'd had very little sleep. Not that he was anxious to leave, but why put off the inevitable. Gathering what little belongings he had with him he folded the blanket over the cot he had used for his bed inside the storeroom and made his way toward the livery.

"Josiah?" Marcel's sleepy voice came from the doorway.

Josiah looked over as he led his horse from the stall. "Marcel, what are you doing up so early?"

"Cheyenne had a bad dream, she's crying." He answered just as Jacques walked in holding the hand of the tearful little girl still sobbing.

Josiah dropped what he was doing and went over to the children, taking Cheyenne in his arms, carrying her over to a nearby hay bale. He sat down putting her on his lap as she buried her face in his chest and cried.

"Hey now, what's all this?" He cooed as he held her close to him and smoothed her tangled hair "Hush now little Annie, Josiah's here." He soothed. "Can you tell me what's made you cry so?"

Cheyenne shook her head, not lifting it off the big man's shoulder.

"I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong? Do I need to go wrestle a Leprechaun from under your bed?" He teased, tickling her side. "Or a fairy maybe?"

The little girl squirmed as she let loose a small giggle, then slowly looked up at him a frightened frown once more falling over her. "Bad men." Her small little voice cracked as she tried to catch her breath, fighting back the sobs.

"What bad men?" he coaxed as he took out his kerchief and wiped away the tears on her cheeks.

"They took you away." She sniffed.

"Took me away?" he chuckled. "Well, I'm a pretty big man, were they bigger than me?"

She shook her head. "They wore blue coats, like the soldiers here at the fort."

"Is that so? Well." He dabbed at the tears under her eyes. "I don't think those soldiers want to take me away, they have no reason to. Beside I'd give'em to much grief. I don't think they would want me around."

"They gave you to the wendigo." She stammered, her bottom lip trembling.

Josiah's heart melted as he held her close. He knew the story of the evil spirit called the Wendigo, from his time spent in the Lakota camp listening to the stories Stone Calf told around the campfires at night. "The Wendigo?" he looked over at the boys who had made their way next to him. "Have you two been telling her scary stories again?"

Both boys shook their heads no. "Well," Jacques admitted. "Not recently." He looked at the ground and shuffled his moccasin feet. Marcel jabbed his brother in the side as he too looked down at the ground ashamed.

Josiah looked at them both disappointedly. "You two."

"It was just a story." Marcel piped up defensively.

"Alright, go on back to the house, Your parents will be awake soon and be looking for you. I'll bring Cheyenne in a few minutes.

"Sorry Cheyenne.": Jacque apologized giving his sister a peck on the cheek, "We didn't mean to give you bad dreams, it's ok. We won't do it again." He looked over at his brother. "Will we Marcel?"

The younger boy shook his head. "Sorry Cheyenne." With that both boys ran out of the livery.

Josiah looked down at Cheyenne. "See now Annie, the soldiers are not going to take me anywhere, least of all to a mythical monster, There is no such thing as a Wendigo. "I promise, ok? All better now?"

Cheyenne sniffed then nodded.

"Alright. Then let's see that pretty little smile." He grinned as she complied, rewarding him with a big smile of her own. He handed her his kerchief, then lifted her off his lap and set her on the ground, "Come help me saddle my horse."

Cheyenne wiped her nose with the kerchief, then followed Josiah over to his horse taking hold of the reigns while Josiah finished up. "How come you call me Annie?" She asked.

Josiah threw the saddle blanket over his horses back, "Oh I dunno, just a nick name I suppose, kind of a short way to say Cheyenne, don't you like it?"

Cheyenne shrugged, "It's ok, but just you can call me that."

The big man chuckled. "Alright then, that's just for me, I like that." He picked up his saddle and set it easily on to his horse while Cheyenne held the horses reigns.

When Josiah was finished, he secured his saddle bags and set his rifle in the scabbard. Then he picked up the little girl and plopped her on top of the saddle before he led his horse out of the livery and over to the general store.

Pierre stood outside, a cup of coffee in his hands. Josiah reached up and taking Cheyenne from the horse. "Give me a big hug now, I have to leave."

"When will you be back?" she asked, a sadness hovering in her blue eyes as she looked into his.

"Might be a while, but I promise I'll come back and see you." He assured her giving her a hug and holding her tightly, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the embrace.

"I'm gonna miss you, Josiah."

"Oh, and I will miss you my little Annie, more than you know." Finally making himself let go, Josiah set the little girl on the ground, She looked up at him as her eyes welled with tears.

Josiah crouched down and braved a smile, "Now no more tears alright?" he tapped her playfully on the nose.

Pierre walked over holding his hand out to Josiah. His friend took it as they shared a heartfelt handshake. "You are welcome here anytime Josiah, you are family. Do not forget that."

"I won't forget." He reassured him as their hands parted.

Pierre reached down and gathered Cheyenne in his arms as Snowbird walked out of the store followed by Jacques and Marcel. She gave him a hug as she reached him then handed him the brown box in her hands. "I packed you some sandwiches in case you get hungry, there's also some dried beef and fry bread."

"Thank You snowbird." he said as he gave her another hug before setting the food in his saddle bag, then mounted his horse. He took in a heavy breath then let it out as he looked over at his friends as if burning their images into his mind. Especially Cheyenne. He knew it was going to be hard to leave, but he did not expect the lump he felt growing in his throat as he took one last look at his little girl.

"You uh, take care of each other, I'll see you again." With that he turned his horse toward the open fort gates and headed out slowly at first, then as the lump in his throat grew, he kicked his steed into a run.

Jacques and Marcel ran after him waving madly. "Goodbye Josiah! Bye!" Cheyenne wriggled from Pierre's arms until he set her down and she began running behind the boys shouting. "I love you, Josiah! I Love you!"

Chapter 2: Little Girl Lost

Josiah threw the remaining contents of his coffee pot onto the fire. The sun had been up for half an hour, and he was anxious to be on his way. It had been two years since he'd been to visit his daughter. The last two times he had been back, he'd found it harder and harder to leave. Cheyenne was growing so fast she was nearly ten now. Her brothers Jacques, who now preferred the name Jake, and Marcel were both teenagers, splitting their time helping their parents and spending more and more time with their grandfather in the Lakota village. Jake seemed to take to both worlds, learning from the resident blacksmith and the army teamster, while Marcel preferred the life of a worrier. Cheyenne as well seemed to prefer the life in the Lakota camp but was content just to be with her family. Josiah's previous visit had been at Christmas time. He remembered how her eyes had lit up when she'd opened the package with the doll inside. He'd seen the toy in a general store, while in a small town he stayed in to stock up on provisions. He'd asked snowbird to remake the doll before he wrapped it up, so it would look more like Cheyenne. It had turned out beautiful, buckskin dress and long braided hair as well as moccasins. Snowbird had done well, and Cheyenne cherished it. It gave him so much joy to see his little girl happy. He had yet to regret his decision he'd made almost five years ago, to leave her with her aunt and uncle, it had been the best thing for her. They were a family, and that is what his daughter needed.

Josiah kicked dirt over the fire before he packed up his belongings and secured the satchels behind his saddle. Stepping into the stirrup he mounted and settled, before giving his horse a jab with his heel urging him onward. He whistled a jovial tune as the birds that flew above seemed to chime in. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and not a cloud in the powder blue sky overhead. It was still a good 3 hours before he'd reach the fort, and he did his best to keep his mind busy so the time would pass quickly.

It was mid-morning before he'd gotten close enough to see the smoke as it billowed from the direction of the fort. Josiah jabbed his heel into his horses belly causing him to quicken his pace and break into a run. As the fort came into view from the corner of his eye, he could see two riders racing from out of the forest tree line heading in the same direction. Not recognizing them right away he pulled his gun until he was close enough to see it was Jake and Marcel. They acknowledged him with only a glance as the three merged together, racing toward the fort. Flames still licked at the sky from some of the buildings, war arrows littered the palisade. Several soldiers lay lifelessly strewn over it. The three slowed their horses and entered the fort cautiously. Josiah, gun in hand, and Jake held a rifle while Marcel knocked an arrow into his bow. As they rode further into the smoking fort more dead bodies lay in various places where they had fallen. Some with arrows in them. Jake and Marcel stopped and dismounted while Jake pulled an arrow from a fence post near the corral. "Crow" He growled.

Marcel looked over at the arrow, spat on the ground and swore in his father's French dialect. All three shared a panicked look as Josiah nudged his horse into a run toward the general store and dismounted before the horse had come to a complete stop. Jake, and Marcel on his heels as they called out for their parents.

When they reached the store, the first body they found was Pierre, lying in the dirt, face down in a pool of blood. Two arrows in his back. Josiah crouched down and carefully turned his friend over cradling him in his arms, blood still oozed from the knife wound in his stomach. Josiah, realizing the man was dead, gently placed him back on the ground with a sympathetic look to the mans sons. There was no time for sorrow as he quickly got to his feet and raced into the store while smoldering debris encumbered his way, he tossed aside burnt planks making his way back to the living area. "Snowbird! Cheyenne!" he called out but there was no answer. Snowbird lay sprawled on the bed, a gruesome sight. She'd been defiled and beaten bloody. Josiah turned away unable to stomach the horrific scene. He tried to stop the boys as they rushed in, but it was too late, the vision could not be hidden as both boys burst into tears.

"Mama." Marcels call came in a whisper. The preacher held the grief-stricken youths for a moment but was immediately torn as he called out again for his little girl. "Cheyenne!"

The two teenagers subdued their sorrow as they joined Josiah in looking for their little sister, calling out her name as they searched, praying to all that was holy that the little girl was safe. Josiah in a panicked frenzy as he toppled over beds and moved charred furniture searching. Finding nothing inside the half-burnt building they regrouped outside and raced for the livery, frantically calling for her.

"Where could she be?" Josiah waled madly. "Annie!" he called out as he paced wildly. "Annie!!!"

Suddenly Jake and Marcel shared a knowing look. "The Corn crib!" Marcel blurted out, we didn't look in the corn crib!"

Josiah grabbed the boy by the arm. "The what? Didn't look where?"

"The corn crib!" Jake said, pulling Josiah away from his brother. "Papa always told her if there was ever trouble to hide in the corn crib behind the storeroom."

Without another word all three rushed from the livery calling out for Cheyenne in unison. They stopped short when they reached their destination and stared at the corncrib as if afraid to see what horrors it may hold inside. The outside was scorched, and the hinge broken. Their tense breaths making their chests rise and fall, with an awful dread flooding through them, when from the corn crib they heard coughing and muffled crying. Josiah flung the lid open to reveal, a terrified, little girl looking up at him, her blue eyes red and swollen, her face dirty and streaked with tears as she clutched the little doll in her arms.

Josiah let a relieved sigh escape, as a thankful tear seeped from the corner of his eye. He reached down taking her in his arms holding her close to him. "Shh little one, I got you now, Josiah's got you." Cheyenne clung to him sobbing uncontrollably.

Jake and Marcel both let out a heavy breath as they shared a joyful hug with their sister and her father. Grateful she was alive.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah stood with an old bible in his hand, as he looked down at the two newly covered graves. Two wooden crosses served as head stones. The first simply read Pierre Pasquinel, Loving Husband, and father. The second, Snowbird, Loving wife, and Mother. He quietly read a passage from the bible then slowly closed it and looked at the boys. "I'll take you to your Grandfather." He glanced down at the quiet little girl standing between her brothers. The boys nodded in agreement.

"We should have been here." Marcel spoke up, not taking his eyes from the two newly covered graves, a guilt-ridden sorrow filled with regret spilling forth in his tone. "We were hunting, Just hunting."

Josiah walked over, putting a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "It wouldn't have changed anything Marcel. You probably would be lying there too. That's not what your folks would have wanted. I know for a fact the three of you were the most important things in their lives, they're looking down on you now happy that you are together."

Jake put a caring arm around his brother. "We have to take care of each other now." The other boy consoled his sibling. "Now we'll stay with Thunkashila. We'll be worriers and fight the Crow."

Josiah looked over at them. He wanted to tell them vengeance was not the way. But if it were up to him, he'd find the murdering scum that had killed his friends and butcher them himself. He knew the children's grandfather, Chief Standing Bear would possibly move to attack the Crow, now that they had killed his daughter. The only thing standing in the way was the fact that they had also killed white soldiers. Something Standing Bear didn't care about. From What Pierre had told him the last time they had shared a jug and talked, was that Standing Bear was not happy with him as it was, because he was living at the fort now. The chief believed Pierre's trading post should be farther away from the white soldiers, it was too dangerous. Pierre had tried to tell him it was for the best, and the soldiers could protect them, But the old man was stubborn. Now it seems he had also been right. It was not safe there.

Josiah pulled himself from his musings and took hold of Cheyenne's hand.

"Jake, Marcel. Gather your things and Cheyenne's. Whatever you can take. Lets get started for the village."

The boys took one last grief-stricken look at the graves of their parents and did as Josiah had told them. Cheyenne was still quiet, she hadn't said a word since he'd found her, and he was worried. God only knew what she had seen or heard. She stayed close to him clutching the doll to her. He'd made sure she was not hurt then washed her face and cleaned her up as best he could. Her buckskin dress was still marred with soot. He'd done his best to wipe it away, but the remnants still showed.

They were ready to go within the hour. They'd gathered what they thought they may need or want if it had not been burnt or broken. Unfortunately, most things they may have wanted, like their fathers gun, had been stolen, or destroyed, as had many other things. They'd buried the soldiers earlier not wanting to leave the bodies for the buzzards. Josiah said he would get word to the army if they didn't find out for themselves.

Jake handed Josiah a canvas bag with the things for Cheyenne, and he secured it to his saddle before he mounted. Jake then picked up his sister and set her on behind Josiah, before he leapt onto his own horse. Marcel was already mounted and heading for the open gates wanting to put as much distance between him and the memories this place now held, as quickly as he could. Their faces masked in mournful sorrow as they rode away from the home, they had known for so many years. Leaving behind the two people they had most depended on and loved. The boys stayed strong. They knew they had to. Especially seventeen-year-old Jake. He was head of the house now. The caretaker for his brother and little sister. It was his responsibility to see they were taken care of, and he did not take the obligation lightly.

+ + + + + + +

They had reached the river crossing by nightfall and set up camp in a grove of trees not far from it. It was still a day and a half or more from the Lakota village. They had ridden at an even pace as Josiah did not want to push the children too hard. Especially Cheyenne. She still had not said a word and he'd barely gotten her to eat more than a few bites of the rabbit he'd cooked. Using his saddle for a head rest he made the little girl a bed of tree branches and blankets then used the last one to cover her.

"How about a story Annie?" he asked as she lay there cuddling her doll. Getting no response, he began with her favorite. "Once upon a time in a far-off land their lived a beautiful Fairey Princess, her name was Annabelle----"

He hadn't gotten more than a few sentences in, when Cheyenne's eyes closed, and she was finally asleep. Josiah smoothed her hair, kissed her on the forehead, then went over to the fire, sitting on the ground he leaned back against an old tree stump, one foot on the ground and one knee up, he rested his hands on his knee. Jake and Marcel were still awake sitting cross-legged by the fire, but neither one did much talking. "You boys should get some sleep, sun comes up early."

"what will you do Josiah? When we reach my grandfathers village?" Jake asked as he picked up a twig and stirred the fire with it. "Will you take her now?"

Taken aback by the boys question, Josiah looked to be sure Cheyenne was still sleeping before he turned again to the seventeen-year-old. "No Jake, that's not my plan. I'm still not prepared to take care of a little girl, she'll be better off with you and your grandparents."

Jake nodded approvingly. Before he nudged his brother, and they curled up into their bedrolls near the fire. Josiah sat gazing into the flames as the children slept. He hadn't been to the Lakota village since Standing Bear had refused his marriage proposal to Cheyenne's mother. He was nervous returning now. Was he doing the right thing, leaving Cheyenne there? Would Standing Bear keep him from seeing her as he had kept him from marrying her mother. Would he harbor ill feelings toward him now? Snowbird had told him that he knew the truth, that he had regretted his decision. Josiah hoped the meeting would go well. He prayed for it. Letting his fear rest, he made his way back over to where Cheyenne lay sleeping, then leaned back up against the tree next to her and let his eyes close.

He didn't know how long he had been asleep when he was awakened by the shrill terrified screams.

Cheyenne bolted straight up, her doll clutched to her chest. "MAMA!!.PAPA!! MAMA!!" She cried out uncontrollably. "MAMA!!"

Shaken by the sudden alarmed screams, Josiah immediately moved taking the little girl in his arms, rocking her back and forth as he held her close to him. "Hush little one, Josiah's here, it's alright, no ones going to hurt you."

"Mama! The bad men." She sobbed. "They hurt my mama!"

"I know baby girl, it's all over now, no ones going to hurt your mama anymore, she's in heaven now, with your papa. But you cry if you want to Annie, you cry, get it all out. It's alright, I'm right here."

As Josiah comforted his daughter while she wept, he glanced over at the boys who had also been awaken by Cheyenne's screams. Each of them harbored their own nightmares and it was clearly visible in their eyes.

"It's alright boys, try and go back to sleep, we got a long ride tomorrow."

Marcel did as Josiah suggested and curled back up under his blanket, though he didn't feel much like sleeping. Jake sat for a moment and watched Josiah with Cheyenne. He slowly gave a nod of approval before slipping down under his own cover and did his best to reclaim sleep. But he too was finding it hard to close his eyes against the horrific events of the day.

Josiah sat with his back against the tree holding Cheyenne in his lap. She curled up close to him, burying her face in his chest, until her tears slowly subsided and her sobs gradually dissipated, instead, coming in short bursts as if she was trying to catch her breath, until eventually, sleep involuntarily overcame her. Josiah took the blanket and covered them both while he held her. He kept her there through the rest of the night, until finally Cheyenne's breathing settled. Only then did Josiah let his eyes close, letting sleep claim him.

+ + + + + + +

The sun barely poking its head over the rise, Jake and Marcel were awakened to the smell of bacon as it sizzled in the pan, and a plate of fry pan biscuits sat close by. the boys looked over as Josiah turned the bacon with a fork. "Rise and shine boys, best get some food down you before we get on our way."

"Sun's barely up Josiah." Marcel complained covering his head with his blanket before feeling his brother jab him in the shoulder with his fist.

"Get up les os paresseux." (Lazy bones) Jake teased in his fathers language then stood and began to gather his bedroll.

"Ciye heyoka." (my brother clown) Marcel grumbled in his mother's tongue, as he too got to his feet and started to gather his bedroll.

Josiah looked over at them, a slight smile crossing his lips as they bantered back and forth in both French and Lakota. They picked on each other constantly as brothers sometimes do, but when it came right down to it, they would back each other up and band together when they or their family was threatened. It was something their father had instilled in them. Family always came first.

Jake knelt on the ground and tied his bedroll looking up as he did so and surveying the area until he saw her. Cheyenne sat up against a tree only a few steps from them, she still held her doll but stared blankly at the ground. He nudged his brother and jerked his chin toward their sister. Marcel, looked over at her then returned his brothers worried look. Jake finished with what he was doing and moved over closer to Josiah, crouching down beside him while the ex-preacher forked a few slices of bacon onto a tin plate then set a couple of biscuits on it as well, before handing the plate to him.

"Has she eaten?" he asked nodding toward his sister.

Josiah nodded. "I got her to eat something before you two woke up."

"Is she gonna be alright Josiah? She aint actin like herself."

Josiah glanced over at the little girl then back to her brother as Marcel joined them and he fixed him a plate as well. "She's a little girl Jake, whatever she saw and heard, it's gonna take her some time to learn to deal with it."

Jake nodded his understanding, before he stood and made his way over to his sister, not saying a word he sat down cross-legged next to her, while he began to eat his breakfast. Marcel mirrored his brothers actions, taking a seat on the other side. He picked up a chunk of bacon and offered it to Cheyenne. She looked up at him for half a second then back to the ground. Disappointed, Marcel looked over at Jake and shrugged before putting the offered food into his mouth.

Once breakfast was finished Josiah and the Pasquinell boys packed up and saddled their mounts. Marcel kicked dirt over the campfire while Josiah retrieved Cheyenne.

"Hey,kimi mila (kee-mee mee-lah) (Butterfly)" Jake called walking over to Cheyenne. "Want to ride with me for a while?"

Cheyenne looked over at Josiah, who nodded favorably before she walked over to Jake. Leaping into the saddle Jake reached down and with Josiah's help lifted the little girl on in front of him before urging his pony forward. With in moments Josiah and Marcel were mounted and following them. They crossed the river without incident, finding a spot low enough that the water barely reached to the horses bellies.

The day went on uneventfully, stopping when necessary to water the horses or rest. Cheyenne was fairing the trip well, although she still barely spoke to any of them. By midday they were halfway to their destination.

Jake and Marcel did the hunting, managing to snag a couple of sage grouse for supper. That evening they helped prepare them while Josiah cooked up the last of the potatoes he had in his pack. After supper the boys settled in and Josiah cared for Cheyenne, telling her a story until she fell asleep. She slept restlessly, waking with the nightmares the same as the night before. Again, Josiah found she slept better in his arms than on her own. By dawn they were up and ready to ride again, and by afternoon the next day they were near their destination.

The Lakota Village insight, Cheyenne suddenly perked and pointed toward it. "Unci, Thunkashila" (grandmother, grandfather) she almost smiled. Before they reached the camp several worriers road out to meet them to discern if they were friend or foe. Jake and Marcel both rode ahead to greet them, letting out whoops and hollers of recognition and were met with the same.

Josiah tensed as they rode into the camp. He dismounted, leaving Cheyenne to ride in the saddle, while he led his horse behind him and followed Jake and Marcel to their grandfathers tipi. Several villagers gathered around the boys, one of the younger worriers about Jakes age, took their mounts as the two ran ahead. Just as they reached the tipi, Chief Standing Bear and his Wife Blue Leaf exited, having been alerted to the Childrens arrival and their visitor, by another young brave. The boys quickly began to rattle off what had happened in their mothers language. Talking so fast and at the same time it was hard to make heads or tails of what they were saying. Their grandfather held up his hand for them to be quiet then told them to talk straight, one at a time. While the boys explained what had happened to their parents and the fort, Blue Leaf burst into tears and fell to the ground in grief. The surrounding women moved to comfort her. "Cheyenne? She asked through sobs, what about Cheyenne?"

Jake turned and pointed behind him as Josiah walked toward them leading his horse with Cheyenne aboard. He stopped, letting the reigns drop to the ground as he turned and walked to the side of the animal, lifting Cheyenne from the saddle, he set her on the ground. She ran to her grandmother who sobbed as she hugged the little girl. Her grandfather greeted the child as well, smoothing one side of her hair and laying a caring hand on her cheek. He motioned for Blue Leaf to take her inside while he stayed and talked with the boys. His eyes then centered on Josiah. Leaving Jake and Marcel, he walked over facing the ex-preacher with a steady stare before holding out a welcoming hand. "Thank You my friend." He spoke in English albeit somewhat broken. "for bringing the Wakȟáŋyeža, the Children, home."

Josiah clasp the man's arm, thankful he was once again accepted into his village. "No need to thank me, was the least I could do."

Standing Bear nodded. "It is good to see you again Josiah."

"And you Standing Bear, just wish it was under better circumstances. I'm sorry for your loss." He sympathized.

"As do I, I am glad you are here Josiah, We have much to talk of." He put an encouraging hand on Josiah shoulder. "But first, you must tell me what happened. I want to know everything. Come let us walk." Standing Bear led Josiah through the village walking slowly toward the nearby river.

"I don't know much Standing Bear." Josiah began. "Cheyenne was the only one there at the time, she hasn't said much since the boys, and I found her. Jake and Marcel were off hunting.

"You were not there when it happened?" The older man questioned.

"No sir, I was on my way for a visit when I saw the smoke, met up with the boys as they were coming from their huntin trip. they were all gone by the time we reached the fort."

"What about the white soldiers?"

"All dead, wasn't a full company, most of em must have been out chasing down renegades or something, Least wise that's what I'm guessin. Jake said looked like Crow. From the looks of the arrows left behind I'm inclined to agree with him."

The Chief nodded understanding. "The crow have long been our enemies, and I am not surprised they would attack the white soldiers fort. I once tried to warn Pasquinel of the dangers of living there." He sighed heavily. "He would not listen."

"He was a stubborn one that's for sure." Josiah agreed. "From the looks of it, he fought like hell though, I'll say that much."

Standing Bear smiled. "I would think no less." He Paused as they reached the river and stood looking out over the still blue water. "And my daughter?" He questioned almost hesitantly.

Josiah stood next to him doing likewise as he looked out across the river to the bank at the other side where a red-tailed fox braved a cool drink from the water despite the activity across the way.

"Knowing Snowbird, she fought like a wild cat." He answered but said no more. There was no sense in voicing the horrendous details.

Standing Bear only nodded, seemingly stoic, as he kept his emotions to himself and was silent for a long time just staring at the river until finally he spoke. "Where was the little one? How was it she was spared?"

"Seems she'd been taught to hide in the corn crib out back, that's where we found her. Scared out of her wits, but alive, can't be more thankful than for that."

The Lakota Chief agreed. "Will you take her when you leave?" He asked looking at the ex-preacher and waited for the answer he dreaded.

"Well, that depends on you Standing Bear." Josiah turned to him. "She's my daughter, and I love her more than I know how to put into words, but I got nothin to offer her. No stability, no home. So, I'll tell ya this, if you want me to leave and intend on keepin her from me, then I'll be taken her with me." A more serious expression crossed his rugged features. "Even if that means I have to fight for her. The way I should have fought for her mother."

Standing Bear lowered his head in regret before looking back to Josiah as a sadness overcame him, and he let a solemn sigh escape before he spoke again.

"No, my Friend, I will not take her from you, she is 'your' daughter, I will not deny you that. When I refused your proposal for Prairie Moon, all those years ago. I believed I was doing what was best for her. I was wrong Josiah, and it caused both of you great pain. I can not undo what was already done. I will tell you this, Not a day has passed when I did not regret that decision. I am sorry my friend. But we cannot go back, as much as I wish it to be so, that time has passed. But, from that love you shared with Prairie Moon, I now have a granddaughter. She cannot take her mothers place, but she fills the void in my heart. No, I will not keep you from your daughter, as I should not have kept you from mine. If you choose to leave her here, with her family, you will be welcome in my lodge for as long as you live. And if you choose to claim her now, I will not stop you.

Josiah turned gazing out across the river, he was quiet for a long moment, until he released a long pent-up breath and looked over at the Lakota chief. "Thank You for that, now that that's settled, I can say what I wanted to in the first place. As much as I want to be with Cheyenne, I can't. She needs you now, she needs her grandmother, She needs her brothers. I only ask that you keep our secret for the time bein, she can't know I'm her father, not yet. she needs to mourn. She hasn't come through this unscathed. She has scars. Nightmares wake her. I don't know what she saw or heard. She's just a little girl, she needs all of us." He turned back to Standing Bear. "I'll stay for a while, till I know she's gonna be alright."

+ + + + + + +

Days turned into weeks. Josiah stayed with the Sioux until the time came for them to follow the buffalo north. It had been a good two weeks since Cheyenne last had a nightmare. She was becoming accustomed to living with her Lakota grandparents and seemed to be settling into village life just fine. As for the two boys. Both seemed to revel in living with the Sioux and taking part in the hunts. Marcel especially, the life of a worrier pleased him, and he took to it like a bee to honey. They were both considered men now, they hunted with the worriers, and they fought with them. Josiah could only pray they stayed safe. Jake already had his eye on a young lady, and she was looking back at him as well. Josiah chuckled, it reminded him of the way he and Prairie would look at each other when the others back was turned.

"Jake." He called out to him as the two boys helped with gathering the horses. Josiah waved both he and his brother over.

"I wanted to say goodbye." He told them holding out his hand. Jake took it first. "We'll miss you big man."

"When will you return?" Marcel asked as he took his turn saying farewell.

"I'm not sure." He took a step back looking at both boys and putting a hand on each ones shoulder. "You've grown into fine men. I'm proud of you, as I'm sure your parents are. Watch after Cheyenne and watch out for each other."

Both boys nodded. "We will."

Taking one last look at them Josiah turned away leading his horse toward where Cheyenne was helping her grandmother dismantling the tipi and securing things to the travois. His heart was heavy, he was unsure how long it would be before he saw his little girl again and it was killing him inside. Going up to them he looked at Cheyenne's grandmother.

"Blue Leaf." He greeted her. "I'd like to take a walk with Cheyenne before I leave."

The woman stopped what she was doing and gazed up at him. She smiled and nodded her approval.

Josiah returned her smile with a small grin of his own and a Thankful nod. "Cheyenne." He held out his hand. "Come walk with me and say goodbye."

Cheyenne left her grandmothers side and took the big man's hand as he led her toward the riverbank, stopping as he looked out over the water. "You know it was right here where your Mama and Papa first talked to each other."

"It is?" she asked looking up at him.

"Mhm, Your mama was crouched down where you're standin right now, she was gettin water. And your papa was sitten on his heels beside her, he stumbled over his words when he talked to her because he was so nervous. And when he tried to help her fill the bags with water, he slipped on a rock and fell on his backside."

Cheyenne giggled. "I bet Mama laughed at him."

"That she did Annie, that she did." His voice trailed as he thought back on that day. It was one of many memories he cherished. He wanted so badly to tell her about her mother, her real mother. But he was careful not to give away his secret. That it had been Prairie Moon who had laughed, and he who had fallen on his behind. It was best she not know about him. Maybe someday, but not yet. She still was not old enough. And she had suffered so much grief already, he was not about to cause her anymore.

Cheyenne looked out at the river, a sadness in her eyes. "Josiah?"

"Yes Annie?"

"The bad men, that hurt my Mama and Papa."

Josiah crouched down turning her to him. "Hey now." He said gently. "I thought we weren't gonna think on that anymore."

"But.. they weren't Crow. Not all of them." She said turning her eyes to the ground.

"What do you mean Annie, did you see them?" He asked carefully, lifting her chin so that she looked at him.

"They were white men." Cheyenne continued. "They wore moccasins and had bows and arrows, Papa saw them, he tried to warn the soldiers." Tears trickled from her eyes and down her face.

Josiah hid his anger and concern as he tenderly smoothed her cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen.

"Did you see anything else?"

Cheyenne shook her head no. "Papa shouted at Mama to get the rifle, and she made me hide in the corn crib. But I heard them, they were looking for me."

As the little girl began to sob Josiah took her in his arms holding her close to him. "It's alright Annie, everything's gonna be alright. You're safe now. No one's gonna hurt you, I promise. They would never find you here. And your grandpa, your brothers, the whole village will keep you safe now."

"But you are going away."

"I always come back don't I?"

She nodded agreeing with him.

"Alright then, no more tears, your Grandmother needs your help, and I need to speak with your Grandfather before I go." He took out his kerchief and wiped her eyes. "Better now?"

The little girl nodded again looking at him. "I made something for you." She announced with a sniff before reaching into the pouch at her side and pulling from it a braided leather bracelet. She handed it to him. "It's so you won't forget me."

Josiah was genuinely touched as he took the bangle from her. "I could never forget you Annie." He told her holding back emotions that threatened to emerge.

"I made it all by myself, Unci (grandmother) showed me how."

"It's beautiful." He praised her. "Will you help me put it on?"

She nodded as he handed it to her and held out his wrist. Cheyenne wrapped the simple leather bracelet around his wrist tying it securely and letting the fringed ends dangle.

"I'll never take it off, and every time I look at it I'll think of you." He beamed. "Alright now give me a hug and let me see that smile I'm so fond of." He insisted, tapping her playfully on the nose. She rewarded him with the wide toothy grin, and a hug around the neck before he stood and took hold of her hand.

Once Cheyenne was back with her grandmother. Josiah found Standing Bear with some of the other worriers. The camp was nearly ready as Jake Brought his grandfather his horse. Taking the Chief aside Josiah told him what Cheyenne had revealed to him.

"Why would white men kill white soldiers?" He asked.

"To start a war." Josiah answered gravely.

Chief Standing Bear looked at him. His face contorted into a mask of deep concern. "The white soldiers do not distinguish one tribe from the other. This will bring them upon us all. They already drive us from our lands."

"Not if I can help it."

"What do you plan to do?"

Josiah looked over at him. "Try to make the army listen."

"And if you cannot?" The Chief asked, worriedly.

Josiah mounted his horse. "Then I'll find the men who did this." he assured him with a cold firmness in his voice. "And make em confess. I have my ways" He said with a nod. "Take care of my family. I'll see ya soon."

With that Josiah spurred his horse and rode out of the village.

Chief Standing Bear watched for a long moment, contemplating Josiah's words, until finally he mounted his brown and white paint and looked behind him as the village began to move out. Within moments Blue Leaf and Cheyenne appeared behind him, mounted on Blue Leaf's Palomino, and trailing the travois with their belongings. The chief motioned for them to follow as he led his village North.

Chapter 3: Retribution

He'd been on the trail for over a week, he was tired, dirty, hungry, and thirsty. He'd seen the sign pointing toward the town of Cripple Creek a mile back. Josiah sighed with relief as he topped the hill and spied the town below. He spurred his horse and headed for it at a lope. Foremost on his mind was a drink, a bath, food, another drink, then bed. As he rode in, he slowed his mount to a walk, riding first past the livery, the general store, the hotel, and ultimately reaching the saloon. He reigned his sorrel to a stop and dismounted, securing the reigns to the hitching post out front, he made his way inside. Not missing a beat Josiah headed straight for the bar. "Whiskey." he ordered, as the bartender greeted him.

The barkeep complied, setting a bottle of Rye in front of him and a glass.

Nodding his thanks, Josiah set two bits on the bar before picking up the glass and the bottle, then finding a table in the corner of the saloon he settled in. Popping the cork from the bottle he poured the stout liquor into the glass then took his first gulp. The strong liquid tasted good going down even though it held a sharp bite to it, and he quickly poured another, this time sipping at it slowly as he studied his surroundings. The place was quiet for the most part. A few men sat at a table at the other end of the room engrossed in a game of cards. Another man stood at the bar nursing his beer. In the quietness Josiah had time to ponder the past weeks. He'd gone back to the fort to see if the rest of the soldiers had returned. They had. He relayed what he knew, and what his daughter had told him, that it had been white men dressed as Indians who had killed her parents and the soldiers. Unfortunately, they were skeptical. They thanked him for seeing to their dead and relayed their condolence's for the loss of his friends. But seemed more interested in hunting down a renegade by the name of Black Knife and his band of cutthroats. They blamed him and were convinced he and his gang of no-goods had doubled back and done the deed. No matter how hard Josiah tried to convince them otherwise. Colonel Miles would not be swayed on the words of a traumatized child. Josiah swore he'd find the truth even if he had to do it on his own.

The batwing doors swung open as three mangy looking men staggered through them. A tall thin, lanky man, his long grey, stringy hair fell into his eyes, he wore a torn shirt and an old leather vest. Around his neck were two strings of beads that looked as out of place on him as a top hat on a seasoned cowboy. His high-top moccasin boots were worn and dirty, a knife scabbard secured on the right boot with a long bone handled knife nestled inside. The other man was average height, his scarred cheek was stuffed with a chaw of tobacco, and he didn't care where he spit. His dingy hat hung on his back revealing his longish, dark brown hair, the gun in his holster and the gun belt both looked to be in better condition than the man himself in his torn and ragged clothing. The third man was shorter than the other two and just as dingy and unkept. He wore a tall black hat with a turkey feather sticking out of the band, his shirt was a colorful reddish color under the dust and filth, he wore a dirty black vest and a sash around his waist that looked like it once belonged to a soldier. It was the rifle he carried with him that caught Josiah's eye, he recognized the fringed scabbard and the beading. Josiah's eyes narrowed and his hand rested on his gun as he cautiously watched the trio as they staggered up to the bar and ordered whiskey.

Once they had their bottle they proceeded with their loud chatter and poured themselves a drink. They were sloppy and uncouth sorts as they talked among themselves and toasted each other.

Josiah listened and watched them carefully. His eyes fixed on the rifle, he knew that rifle, it was Pierre's. The scabbard had been made for him by his wife Snowbird and the beading was unmistakably hers.. Josiah's blood boiled as his hand wrapped around the handle of his pistole ready to draw in a heartbeat. It took a moment to gather his senses and calm himself. He had to be smart about it or they would slip through his fingers. Standing Josiah headed for the doors walking through them he stood on the boardwalk looking toward the sheriff's office when a young boy came down the street hoop trundling. "Hey boy." Josiah called to him.

"The boy stopped and looked over. "Yes Sir?'

"How would you like to earn a nickel?"

The boy looked at him suspiciously. "What do I have to do?"

Josiah nodded toward the jail. "Just go over to the sheriff's office and bring him here, quick like."

"I can't" the young man shrugged.

"Why not?"

"Cuz he aint there." He answered simply.

"what about the deputy?"

The boy shook his head. "He ain't there either, they took a prisoner to Fort Bowie."

"Damn it." Josiah swore. "They say when they'd be back?"

Again, the boy shook his head, "Nope, but he don't usually stay gone too long and he left a couple days ago so he should be back soon, something else I can do for that nickel?"

Josiah reached into his pocket then tossed the boy a nickel. "Thanks kid."

The towheaded young boy grinned then returned to his game directing the trundle hoop toward the general store.

Josiah cursed again under his breath before turning back to the saloon. "Guess I got to do this myself." He murmured as he watched the three men inside. After a while, making sure they were good and sauced, Josiah finally walked back through the saloon doors. Going back to the spot he'd been sitting, he grabbed his whiskey bottle and glass that he'd left sitting at his table, then sundered up to the bar near the man with the top hat and familiar rifle scabbard over his shoulder. Pouring himself a drink and downing it before he spoke. "Nice scabbard ya got there."

The unkept man turned with a grin showing his black and yellowed teeth, his long blond greying hair spilled out from under the tall hat. "Why thank ye there Mr." he said staggering a bit on his feet, feeling the effects of the whiskey he and his partners had already swallowed. The bottle was empty, the taller man with the long scraggly grey hair tossed it over the counter and it shattered on the floor. "Another bottle barkeep." he ordered.

The bartender reluctantly set another before them, and the man hurriedly opened it, taking a swig before one of his partners grabbed it from him.

"Mind if I have a closer look?" Josiah asked nonchalantly.

The stranger turned and looked at the big man standing beside him guardedly, sizing him up despite his drunkenness.

"Just curious." The ex-preacher feigned a friendly smile.

The intoxicated man suddenly broke into a crooked grin showing several missing teeth. "Well, s'ppose it won't hurt. Ye caint go far with it, ifn you tried anyhows." He chuckled before taking it from his shoulder and handing it to him. "The names Cyrus." He held out a hand, but Josiah was more interested in the rifle and its scabbard as he carefully inspected them. He was right, this rifle had been Pierre's. "Where'd ya get this?" he asked Cyrus trying not to sound to suspicious.

Cyrus gulped another drink from the whiskey bottle while his companions fought over who would get the next mouthful. When he was finished he handed the bottle back to the two arguing men then let out a hardy laugh. "Took it off a squaw." He grinned sheepishly. "she was a fighter for sure." He nudged his buddies as he spoke, bringing smirks and chuckles from them as well, obviously knowing what the other was thinking and trying to be sly about it.

Josiah saw red as he kept a good hold on the rifle while he reached for his colt, unnoticed by the three men next to him. "A Sioux woman, at the mercantile at Fort Defiance by chance?" He asked unable to keep his anger at bay.

Cyrus suddenly seemed to sober as he elbowed his companions again demanding their attention. "Why, I don't have any Id'ier what y'er talkin bout Mr, suppose you give me my rifle back now." He held out his hand for the gun.

In an instant Josiah's pistole was out of the holster and aimed at the three men. The saloon patrons cleared immediately, some leaving through the doors while others stood back and watched the confrontation. The bartender backed away to stay out of the line of fire.

"A few weeks ago, two of my very good friends were murdered by white men dressed as Indians. This." Josiah snarled holding up the rifle. "Was my friends rifle, his Lakota wife made this scabbard for him."

"We, we, d, don't know nuthin bout that." The taller man stammered nervously.

"He's right." Cyrus agreed. "Don't know what yer talkin bout Mr, now hand over that rifle and we'll be on our way."

Josiah shook his head, his blue eyes glared daggers at the three men. "You're goin to jail for murdering Pierre Pasquinel and his wife."

It wasn't us!" the taller man shouted. At the same time his friend with the scar on his cheek reached for his gun. His movements had not gone unnoticed, a single shot rang out, and he was dead before he could clear the leather. Josiah's aim had been true and hit its mark. Both men looked down at their fallen friend going to his side. "He's dead" Cyrus announced with angry eyes glaring back at the man who had killed his companion. Suddenly both men reached for their weapons and started to charge Josiah who fired again at their feet.

"The next one who moves'll join your friend." He growled. "Now toss those guns and the knives over there." He motioned toward the far end of the bar. The men hesitated but another bullet fired at their feet encouraged them to do as the big man said.

Once their weapons were out of reach, Josiah urged them from the saloon and headed them toward the jail house.

"You can't do this, you aint no lawman!" Cyrus argued as Josiah shoved him into the cell and shut the door locking it.

"Don't mean I can't hand you over to the law." The preacher answered setting the rifle down on top of the desk and holstering his gun. "Now sit down and shut up." He ordered before taking a seat behind the desk and tossed the cell keys into the front drawer. Closing the drawer, a stack of papers on top of the desk caught his eye, peeking his curiosity. He pulled them over in front of him and began to rummage through the wanted posters, when a familiar face on one of the papers stopped him from going further. It was one of the men he just put in the cell, the one who'd had Pierre's rifle. The poster read, Cyrus Slade wanted for murder, theft, and rape. A satisfied look crossed Josiahs face, the bastard was in jail now, he couldn't hurt anyone anymore, and this would help to seal his fate. Again, Josiah thumbed through the papers. The next poster was for the man he'd shot, Cade Devlin, wanted for murder, running guns to Indians, and known outlaw gangs. As he continued to sort through the documents, a wanted poster for another of the men in the jail cell appeared. it was for Henry Running Man. The tall long-haired companion of Cyrus Slade, A known out law, wanted for gun running, murder and rape. Josiah set the three posters aside. He'd be sure and bring them to the sheriffs attention when he returned.

The boy had been correct, exactly two days later the sheriff and his deputy did indeed return. After searching the outlaws' belongings and packs, they'd found evidence from the fort. A Soldiers sabers, several things from the general mercantile that Pierre and his wife owned, A soldiers sash and coat, buttons from the soldiers jackets and a wagon full of artillery that they had stashed outside of town. Content that justice would be served, Josiah made ready to leave.

"Sanchez." Hearing his name Josiah turned from sinching up his saddle to see the sheriff walking toward him.

"Glad I caught you before you left." He said as he reached him.

"Somethin wrong Sherriff?" he asked guardedly.

"No, no nothing like that." Sherriff Mills smiled. "There was a reward for those three men you caught," he said holding an envelope out to him. "It's a good sum." He smiled.

Josiah hesitantly took the envelope and looked inside. "There must be two thousand dollars in here." He nearly gasped.

Sheriff Mills nodded. "At least."

"I don't need this." Josiah held the envelope back to him. He could not deny the money could set him up for life, but that wasn't what he wanted. He didn't deserve it. "All I want is to see them two mongrels in that cell hang for what they done. This money can't bring my friends back."

"Then take it for your Goddaughter, and her brothers, you earned it." The Sheriff insisted.

Josiah stared at the envelope for a moment. "They're just kids, they don't live with me, where they are they don't need this."

"Never know." Sheriff Mills commented positively.

Josiah nodded taking another few minutes to mull it over. Finally, he pulled the envelope open and took out three hundred dollars. Then closed the package again and handed it back to Mills. "I'll put this away in case the kids ever need it, you take the rest and give it to the soldiers families."

The sheriff hesitantly took the envelope. "If that's what you want. You sure about this."

Josiah stuffed the money into his pocket and nodded. "You just make sure those two hang."

"You got my word on it." He assured him holding out a friendly hand.

Josiah took his hand with a firm handshake. "I'll hold you to it."

"Take care of yourself Josiah." He said as the two released each other's hand. "Good luck." With that Sheriff Mills turned and walked back to the jail.

Josiah finished tightening the sinch on his saddle. Then before leaving town, he stopped at the bank depositing the three hundred dollars. It would be safer there until or if, Cheyenne or her brothers needed it. When he was finished, he mounted his horse and headed out of town. His next stop would be the Lakota village, he had a rifle to get back to its owner, Jake was the oldest, the rifle would go to him. And the beaded necklace he'd found among the outlaw's things had belonged to Snowbird, he would see the Cheyenne got it. Pierres knife would go to Marcel. Then he would be back to make sure the murderer's hung. Not that he didn't trust the sheriff, but he wanted to watch them hang, for Snowbird, for Pierre, God rest their souls.

The End
Continues in The Story Begins