Forsaking All Others (Western Vows) by Kari Trumbo

Author:Kari Trumbo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Native American, Inspirational Historical Romance, Christian Romance
Publisher: Kari Trumbo
Published: 2016-04-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Rose stood and stretched her aching muscles. The ground had lost its appeal days ago. Morgan slept while she stoked the few coals left from last night’s fire. He’d needed his rest after watching her so much. She wilted some greens for breakfast and the sizzle woke him.

“Finally feeling better?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Good. When we’re done eating, we can clean up and I’ll shorten those stirrups for you.”

She looked at him wide-eyed. “I thought Pete would take the horse?” She looked over to where the horses had been tied, far enough away for the smell, close enough to hear them. Both horses stood munching the grass.

Morgan turned from her. “It wasn’t Pete’s horse to take. He left on foot about three days ago. Said he was going to Kansas and he didn’t expect to meet up again.” He sat up and rolled up his blanket. “One question has been eating at me, though. He got mighty angry when I said he could pass for a white man. How’d an Indian get the name Pete? Rose sort of makes sense, but I’ve never met...well, you understand.”

Rose bit her lip. Pete would never agree to tell an outsider his secret, and certainly not this outsider. How could she answer the question and not divulge the one thing Pete kept to himself?

“That’s Pete’s tale to tell, not mine. I’m sure if you think about it long enough, you’ll figure it out. You’re a smart man.” She walked over to the horse Pete had ridden, ending the conversation.

She rubbed the horse’s mane and buried her face in its neck. So it hadn’t been a dream. Pete was gone. The abandonment hit her hard, harder than anything he’d said to her, harder than a punch from her father’s fist. She wiped the tear from her cheek and went down to the river to wash her hands.

The shapes in the sand from her lesson should have reminded her of Morgan, but all she could hear in her head was Pete’s voice: you do the line first. He knew how to read and write and she hadn’t realized it. He could have taught her, but she’d always assumed he didn’t know. Rose splashed water over the writing until it washed away. No more Pete, no more words. This was a new life.

She marched back to the fire, wiped her hands dry, and ate a small breakfast. Setting the pan aside to cool, she rolled the blankets and put away everything they’d brought. The Bible waited for her in the bag, and she lifted it out.

“This belongs to you.” She handed it to Morgan. “I’ll never learn to read it. Why don’t you take it back?”

He looked at her but didn’t take it. “Don’t lose hope. I’ll read it to you in the evenings. Perhaps you will catch on just by watching the words. I have no doubt you are stubborn enough.” His lip crept up on one side.

She sighed, putting the Bible back in her bag.

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