Kiowa White Moon by Jeanie Johnson

Author:Jeanie Johnson [Johnson, Jeanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-07-04T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

We traveled through the night, and I felt completely exhausted, since we had barely gotten any sleep, and we had traveled through the night, just the night before. Muraco did not speak to me. Perhaps he felt his friends would disapprove of him if he did, or maybe he was the one who disapproved of me.

I began thinking about all the mistakes I had made, the first one being, saving this savage’s life! Then I saved Clinton’s life. My very humanity was bringing this all upon me, and I wondered if the adage of do unto others as you would have them do unto you, really held true. My father thought he was helping out a woman who needed a man in her life, and look where it got him? I should have let Emmet kill Clinton the way he suggested. After all, Clinton ended up dead anyway, and if we had done it, we would still be safe at our farm with food to last us the winter.

Now we were heading to an Indian village where they had little food to sustain them, so what would they spare for us, the very people who they believed put them in their situation?

I had thought Muraco was a trusted friend. After all, he had saved me from Clinton, when we were in the cave, but perhaps it was because he thought he could convince me to go with him, back then. When I refused, this was probably his revenge, I decided. He would make me suffer for turning down his offer, I thought, sadly to myself.

I had only gotten to know him for a mere couple of weeks, so how could I even judge his character? I had omitted the fact that he was actually a wild Indian and just as unpredictable as the rest of his people. They had certain creeds to live by, and apparently he would rather see me suffer than lose face. How selfish can one get, I thought. My opinion of him, and draw towards him was now drastically changing.

I was impulsive and too concerned with the comfort of others than my own welfare, I berated myself. From this point on, I vowed I would be tough and unyielding. I would never trust any man again, either Indian or white. I had been right to have felt contented to live at the farm and never marry. Having a man in one’s life was too complicated. It wasn’t worth the sacrifice to hope for love or someone who truly cared for you above themselves.

I stared at the back of Muraco’s well tended head. His braids were wrapped in fur strips at the ends. Feathers dangling from rawhide strips with beads decorating them, hovered about his shoulders. His very exotic features lost their appeal for me. I was now his prisoner, and he no longer wanted me as his woman, but he was going to make sure no other man in his tribe had me either.

Perhaps I

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