Red August Moon©

Free Online Short Love Story

Written by American Author Sky Taylor

Marshall Rance Kincade studied the beauty seated across from him as the stagecoach made fast tracks to the waiting station at Boggy Creek. From there it was a matter of half an hour to reach his home in Tumbleweed, Texas.

The lady had been in his company for the last four hours of his journey and he had yet to learn her name. Never had he been so entranced by a woman's beauty - her fair-colored flawless skin, the honey-blond hair, the sapphire eyes and the way that her cornflower-blue riding dress hugged her hourglass form.

But one thing he did know about her; she had the patience of a saint. For two straight hours he'd sat beside her as the two sisters that had boarded the coach back in Handley had ranted on relentlessly in voices so high they'd break the finest crystal. It seemed the dames didn't ketty to their oldest sister's new husband - and they had embarked on a mission of mercy, making a surprise visit in dire hopes of rectifying the wretched marriage.

Rance had felt a rod of pity for the unsuspecting sister. Nothing worse than meddlers in his book other than criminals.

There the four of them had sat, the stagecoach bouncing merrily along - yet not as bouncy as it'd been since the new harness and frame system had been added to the stage lines. Horses were much happier with not only the improved ease of the load but also rid of the havoc it had wreaked on their shoulders and flesh. The invention was one that Rance considered as the best of modern technology. Then again, there was talk of the iron horse over the horizon.

The beauty had sat contentedly knitting and she had a way with those needles, moving them so smoothly as she'd worked the yarn into what appeared to be a sweater in the making.

The stage driver Charlie Haskel suddenly bellowed, "Boggy Creek Station up ahead!", his voice carried along by the fiercely hot August south wind.

It had been sweltering in the hill country for the last month of summer with no relief in sight. The ground was so parched that ranchers and farmers feared another relentless drought.

Rance's dark eyes studied the sky through the small frame of a window, the sky starting to dim as dusk approached. A red moon hung low over the horizon.

It was only a short ride home but Rance appreciated the opportunity to stretch his legs. Being six-foot-six certainly had its disadvantages when it involved riding in the hot-box of a stagecoach. He much-preferred his horse Dancer.

The team of horses glided smoothly to a halt. Charlie had a way with his team of horses; they liked him as he provided apple treats and fed them only quality feed.

Rance climbed off the coach and was ready to turn and offer his hand to the beautiful lady but his intentions were cut short as a man barrelled out of the station door, a gun positioned in his hand.

By the time that Rance drew his pistol his brain had recorded the following:

- The man was no man, rather a mean hombre named JB Nelson who traveled and targeted innocent civilians using cruel methods, including murder.

- Through his peripheral vision, the first shot fired by JB hit Charlie Haskel who fell juxtapose to the horse he called Melon. The horse had quickly raised its hind leg and dragged Charlie beneath him, an action which Rance perceived as protecting his owner.

- The second and third shot had pierced Rance - both bullets through the shoulder, although he was certain that JB's aim was off or he would have killed him dead, just as he had Charlie. There was a lot of blood surrounding good Charlie.

As he fell to the ground his pistol flew from his hand which was already feeling numb.

"Conny, get out here, son! We've got us a Marshall to play with!"

Rance narrowed the dark eyes at JB as Conny appeared behind him grumbling, "I ain't your son. How many times do I have to say that? Huh? Little brother, I thought you were out here target practicing -you shot a Marshall? We're gonna have fun with him, ain't we JB?"

"Shut up," JB ordered, his voice stern.

As Conny surveyed the scene, JB's attention shifted to the coach as Carly darted out her head. It had been necessary as she wanted to get a better idea of the situation. And it didn't look good....

"Well, well, what have we here," JB snickered, rubbing one filthy hand over his chin as Conny stood behind him still accessing the situation.

Rance knew that Conny wasn't the brightest lamp of the two brothers, the younger a tab smarter than the older.

"Out of the coach, lady - as in now!" JB ordered.

"Leave her alone, you filthy mongrel-" was as far as Rance got before JB kicked him in his wounded shoulder.

Carly drew a deep breath, then slowly exited the coach.

Rance calculated their chances - and determined the number zero.  He'd rather go out fighting than what these two goons had in mind, so he raised up again, JB's gun barrel aiming at his face.

Rance prepared for the blast and was shocked as the beauty slammed JB's chest, her hands lodged on the two knitting needles. JB beady eyes widened, the gun firing into the ground as he fell straight backwards, narrowly missing his brother Conny.

Rance attempted to gain ground again as this was his chance to save them although Conny managed to draw his gun. Yet he wasn't fast enough on the draw as Carly held up the derringer and planted a bullet dead-center in Conny's forehead.

"Charlie, you okay?" he heard the woman call out.

"Yes ma'am," he managed. "Graze to the head. What about the Marshall?" he asked, slowly moving away from Dancer's protective hold and managing to stand, albeit he was wobbly.

"Shoulder wound," Carly informed, removing Rance's neckerchief and pressing it on the wound. He moaned and reached for her hand to release the pressure even though he knew better, but it hurt like the bloody devil.

Carly easily moved his hand away as she told Charlie, "Put pressure on this Charlie. We've got to see if there are anymore troublemakers to fret about."

Charlie took over and confessed, "It really should be my job ma'am but I'm not trusting myself. And seeing as to what you did to those two varmints, you're probably more capable than me."

"A bit dizzy, are you?" she half-laughed, Rance deciding that he liked her laugh as he heard Charlie respond, "Yes ma'am," and then he faded into darkness.

Rance felt like he was in a dream world - a space far removed from reality. He recognized the deep voice which seemed miles away, but he'd recognize that voice anywhere. Deputy Cabe Faraway, one of his best and most-trusted.

"Ma'am, he's been asleep two days now. You sure he's gonna wake up?"

"He'll wake up," Carly assured and Rance felt a cool damp cloth being pressed to his forehead.

"Ma'am, why don't you let me tend to him. You have to be exhausted at this point," Cabe mused.

"Thank you, Deputy for offering but I don't want to leave him until he responds."

"I understand, ma'am. I'm just real worried-like about him. He's a good man - a great man," Cabe eased out. "Don't know what Tumbleweed would do without the Marshall."

"Deputy, I promise - he's going to be fine. I have no doubt, so please quit worrying." Carly paused then eased out, "Ah, look - he's coming out of it."

Rance considered playing dead a bit longer as Cabe's compliments were endearing - words perhaps more appropriate for a wake or a funeral than the present situation. But the throbbing pain in his shoulder thwarted those inclinations.

Batting his eyes his surroundings were temporarily blurred, then he recognized that he was in his own bed. Then the beauty waved into view and she was more beautiful than he'd remembered, if that were possibly so....

"There you are," she smiled at him and he felt like his dearly departed darling mother had returned. Thoughts of his childhood rampaged through his memory - good thoughts of how she'd taken care of him as a child. But of course, at six-foot-six, Rance was no longer a child. Even so, it felt nice to hear kind words about him as well as to be comforted by the beautiful woman - a woman who had saved his ornery hide.

"You probably have a million questions," Carly eased out, pressing the cool cloth to his forehead. "Deputy, I'm going to fetch the Marshall some chicken soup so if you wouldn't mind filling in the blanks? Perhaps some water along with the pain pill?"

"Yes ma'am," Cabe eased out, moving into Carly's spot and taking over the wet cloth as he fussed with Rance's sheet. "How you feelin' Marshall?"

"Hot. Hot and parched," Rance managed.

"And that shoulder probably throbs like a dancing devil," Cabe surmised.

"Yeah." He readily took the glass from Cabe but shook his head over the pill.

"Don't be a cry baby," Cabe told him in a fatherly voice. "You need this pill for the pain."

"Cabe, I don't....I don't want to fall asleep again."

"You won't," Cabe assured and as soon as Rance had swallowed it Cabe added, "At least not directly."

Rance scowled at him although realizing that the Deputy had his best interest at heart.

"Doc says you'll soon be as good as new. Although you may have to do a bunch of practicing before that gun hand returns one-hundred percent. But Doc says no damage to your nerves."

"Doc? The beauty?"

"Yep, that's her."

"Who is that amazing woman? What's her name?"

"Carly Fairchild. She was sent here by the Board of Indian Affairs. She's going to try doctoring them, and I did'nt have the heart to tell her than it's a hopeless cause. Old Doctor Fagan saw to that. He's lucky those braves didn't die as the Chief would have put an arrow between both of his ears."

Rance managed a nod, the pain in his shoulder easing a bit. "So Carly extracted the bullet?"

"She did. Also fixed-up Charlie Haskel's noggin'." Cabe paused to scratch his chin. Rance knew that gesture; Cabe's way of saying that something was on his mind.

"What's on your mind, Cabe?" Rance knew that if he didn't ask, Cabe would remain as silent as a snowman. Given that glorious thought - of cooler temperatures, he pulled back the sheets to release the pent-up heat, then widened his eyes in shock and quickly recovered himself. "Where are my britches?" he demanded, shocked that he was in his skivvies.

"Don't blame me! Was the Doc," he defended, rearing back in the chair - out of harm's way. Cabe didn't blame the Marshall for being a tab upset. He would've felt the same.

"Well at least you could have warned me," Rance augured. "Get me my britches, will you."

Cabe considered the request; however it was more of a demand than a request.

He decided to follow orders and as he assisted the Marshall getting dressed he asked, "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Rance asked, feeling breathless and exhausted, falling back into the pillow. He was a man of great strength and his current weakened state was something that he'd only experienced a handful of times in his life. Perhaps that stupid pain pill had something to do with how he felt...

"That she saved your life, Charlie's life and probably those ten people that The Nelson Brothers robbed and tied up at the station," Cabe clarified. "Charlie said so, but he's not one-hundred percent Charlie right now. Still fuzzy-headed and such from the graze to his head. Doc said poor Charlie lost quite a lot of blood."

"He'll recover, right?"

"Yep. Doc said he needs bed rest and Charlie's wife is tending to him. I imagine that Doc went to check on him before she gets that chicken soup. She said as much earlier - just afore you awoke. So, is what Charlie said true?"

"It's all true."

"Well I'll be," Cabe pondered, his eyes seeming to be in a faraway place. "I mean, me - as well as much of the town saw those two knitting needles sticking out of Nelson's chest - which was bizarre. We also saw the hold in Conny's forehead. But most of us considered that you had done delivered the death blow. Although I asked her; but she was too busy to reply. Said the focus was on getting you well. Imagine that - a heroine, yet not wanting to take the credit. She's quite a lady, ain't she?"

Their attention was drawn to the doorway as the subject of their conversation entered with a bowl of hot chicken soup and a plate of buttered cornbread.

Cabe moved aside to give her room as she asked Rance, "Can you manage this?"

Rance delivered a weak nod. He wasn't used to using his left hand, but to his amazement, he actually managed quite well. He'd assumed that he'd have the shakes, but he didn't.

"You'll feel better after you eat. And the good Deputy will help you clean up after you eat while I change your sheets." She paused to turn and look at Cabe and told him, "Charlie's doing wonderfully-well. Dizziness is gone. He wanted to get out of bed."

"But you wouldn't let him, right?" Cabe asked, smiling over the great news. Charlie was like a living monument in Tumbleweed - him and his team of capable horses.

"I didn't have issue with that but Mrs. Haskel's in charge," she laughed. "He's worried about his horses."

"I'll send Deputy John over there to take care of matters. He's good with horses and Charlie is very particular about who touches them. And as for you, little lady - it's time for you to get some sleep." Cabe turned to Rance and informed, "She hasn't slept for two days now - keeping watch over you like a pot of boiling potatoes. I'll even consider changing the sheets."

"Cabe's right, Doc. I want to thank you properly but I can't seem to do that right now."

"Don't worry about that-"

"But I do," Rance insisted.

Carly widened her eyes and blurted out, "You've put on your pants!"

"Well....he wanted them on," Cabe defended as she jerked her head around to confront him.

"He needs to be comfortable."

"I am comfortable, Carly," Rance assured and Carly jerked her head to Rance now, a bit surprised that he'd used her given name. "Now head on to bed. Cabe will get you if necessary - and you've taken such great care with me, I doubt anything will happen. I just need rest."

"And you could rest more comfortably without......well, I'll leave it at that," Carly managing, Cabe blurting out a laugh as she blushed.

It wasn't that she would see something that she'd never seen before. As a doctor, she'd seen most everything and then-some. Her shyness and sensitivity was rooted in her awareness that she found Marshall Rance Kincade extremely handsome. During the hours they had spent together on the stage, she'd almost finished an entire sweater - so nervous she'd been over his presence!

"Carly, take any of the bedrooms you wish," Rance told her. "Now go! Everything's fine," he went on to reassure as he sensed her hesitancy to leave him.

After she exited the room Rance asked Cabe, "How hard was that bullet for her to remove? And what about the ten people that you spoke of at the station?"

"That bullet wasn't that easy to get out. She put you on a table at the station. Took an hour to get it out; folks watching said she was worried about damaging any nerves. And I can attest that she makes lovely stitches. Wait until you see your shoulder. Beautiful job of sewing."

"That right?" Rance mocked in his deep voice.

"Yeah. As to the ten, she went inside the station not knowing if there was another threat and that's when she found the ten. They were in the back-room, tied up - and of course, quite frightened. She untied one gentleman then left him to tend to you and Charlie as he finished releasing the other nine."

"Where are JB and Conny?"

"Six feet under. Lots of volunteers to help with the burial. There was a party thrown at the saloon directly following the burial. Those boys hurt a lot of people. And oh - there was a map in JB's pocket indicating where they'd buried their treasure over the years. I sent a telegraph to the sheriff in Opeak County who is going to investigate. Hopefully, some of the people that were robbed over the years will get back their belongings."

After Cabe had assisted him with a bath and a change of sheets, Rance fell into a deep sleep. To his surprise he didn't wake up until the dawn of the new day.

Following his nose to the kitchen he found Carly transferring a stack of pancakes onto a plate. There was a side of maple syrup and bacon along with a tall glass of milk. Glancing at the ice box he noted that someone had arranged for a delivery from the ice man so Rance knew that the milk was nice and cold.

"Want to eat in bed or at the kitchen table?" Carly asked, glad that the color was back in Rance's cheeks. He look a million percent better than he had yesterday.

"In here would be great," he told her. "You didn't have to fix all this - but I'm glad that you did," he told her, offering a grateful smile.

After they settled into the tall-back chairs, Rance said Grace before tackling his stack of pancakes. "Delicious."

"Thank you, Rance."

And Carly almost dropped her fork-full of pancake when he drawled, "I fancy you, Carly Fairchild."

Carly surprised herself when she eased out, "I fancy you too, Rance. I'm grateful and relieved that you're feeling better."

"All thanks to you. But I want you to know that my feelings aren't due to what you've done - certainly not the least of which was saving my life. I fancied you the moment that I set eyes on you."

Something all warm and fuzzy washed over her as he put his left hand over her hand and she couldn't stop the smile which spread across her lovely face. Never in her life had she felt like this about a man.

"Tell me more about you," Rance asked as he refocused on the pancakes. "Cabe tells me that you're in Tumbleweed to give medical relief to the Cherokees."

"I am. Speaking of which.....the lady who runs the cafe-"

"Meridith?"

"Yes. When I there for the chicken soup....well, I suppose I am a bit of curiosity for the townsfolk and there had been talk. Meridith has concerns about the Cherokees. Says they will never accept my assistance. Do you agree?"

Funny thing how the topic of conversation can change Carly mused. However, it was probably for the best as she thought it good for her and Rance to become better acquainted before embarking on a romantic journey. At times, people were never like one assumed....

"There was a doctor some years ago.....Doctor Fagan. He almost killed a few braves with his stupidity. Even the folks in Tumbleweed wouldn't see him unless they were on their deathbed - and there was many-a-time when he hurried things along. He was elderly and most say he was 'touched in the head'. Lots of memory issues. Thankfully his daughter and son arrived in Tumbleweed and persuaded him to go back to his hometown with them. Since then, the town folk travel to Clayton County for help. We had such a bad experience with Fagan....."

He paused and informed, "I'm going with you." To her questionable look he elaborated, "To the Cherokees."

Instinctively, Carly reached out an touched his hand. "You can't. If you go and there is trouble - and you end-up getting hurt....I can't have that on my conscience."

"And I couldn't live with myself if you went there and ended up six feet under. Now that we've met, it can't be over before it's even begun."

Carly delivered a slight sigh, knowing that this man that she was so enthralled with wasn't one to give up easily. He was a lot like herself. "Are you on good terms with Chief Running Deer?"

"He tolerates me. I'm the only one that he's allowed in camp since the fiasco with Fagan. From time-to-time we'll see a few braves in town for supplies, but other than that they keep to themselves."

"And if he sees you bringing a stranger into the camp?"

Rance winced his lips and mused, "In my opinion, he's not likely to be accepting."

"Then I stand forewarned. And to ease your mind, I was raised by the Cheyenne."

"But...."

"I'm white."

"Yes."

"My father....or the only father that I ever knew was Painted Warrior Fairsky. Amid a hunting expedition he found my mother. He told me that I couldn't have been more than a few hours old. Mother died during childbirth - and if you're wondering, I never questioned him about that. Father always told the truth."

"So...Fairsky took you as his own? You took his name?"

"Yes. Twenty-five years ago, it was a very different world between whites and Indians. Amid his research he discovered that my mother was a saloon girl. He met with the local sheriff, showed him where they had buried my mother. There were questions that were quickly satisfied. In the end, no one wanted anything to do with a harlot's offspring - and no one knew who my father might have been."

"You were happy as a child?"

"Extremely," she assured with a smile. "So you see that I have some inside knowledge, which was the basis of my assignment. The Board of Indian Affairs was notified by an Indian Agent as to the decline of health within this particular tribe and advised that a doctor be sent. My assignment lasts for three months and then I return and report my findings."

"How soon can I travel?" he asked.

"You're healing nicely and it's a short trip to the camp. I'd like to go as soon as possible given the dire need for medical intervention. Tomorrow morning?"

"Tomorrow morning we'll travel, then," as he took her hand in his and gave it an affectionate squeeze.....

Thankfully the trail leading into the Cherokee camp was quite smooth. Carly had fretted that they would need horses rather than a buggy and riding in a buggy was much easier on Rance than horseback.

"We've been followed for the last mile," Carly told him and he glanced towards her in surprise.

"I was not aware," he admitted.

Carly was behind the reins as she'd insisted that she didn't want him moving his arm or shoulder more than necessary. And she was beautiful, as always. Today she wore a pretty beige cotton dress that was fringed in beads. Rance supposed that it would be fancied by several of the Indian maidens. Her long blond hair was swept-up, away from her beautiful face and she had a regal, determined look about her. At this point there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he'd fallen head over heels in love with her.

Carly halted the buggy as they turned a sharp corner in the road, a wall of hedges blocking the path.

"I'd say here is where we get out and walk," she eased out, already hopping out of the buggy. She knew that Rance was a gentleman as he'd attempted to assist her into the buggy at his house, but she had not allowed him to do such. He knew that he was aware of her concern for his shoulder and that she wasn't a lady that had to 'be in charge' of every move.

They were suddenly surrounded by braves on magnificent horses which brought a wan smile to Carly's pink lips. There was no horse alive that could match the beauty and excellence of those reared by the Cherokees - or so was her opinion. Her smile did nothing to dissuade the braves' intentions.

They pointed the spears that were lodged in their hands towards the hedges, both Carly and Rance moving through the opening, the braves following.

Chief Running Deer appeared in the clearing and Carly considered him as she had the horses - magnificent, arms folded, a tanned face carved by the sun, his clothes the familiar outfitting of the Cherokee.

The Chief spoke English and wasted no time in addressing Rance.

"The woman will leave the camp at once. She is unwelcome."

"She was sent here to help," Rance assured as a few of the braves moved to remove her and return her to the buggy. Rance continued, "By the Board of Indian Affairs. She is a doctor," he continued, and the Chief's gray eyes fell for the first time on the black doctor's bag that Carly held tight in her hands.

"No! The man was bad enough. And a medicine woman is even worse."

Both Rance and Carly were momentarily shocked as a scream pierced the air, a woman who looked to be the age of the Chief exiting a teepee, a handsome brave beside her appearing to console her.

"You must go!" Running Deer told Rance. "Our daughter is near death. This is not the time. And when you return we will discuss whether you will be allowed here again as you have broken our promise."

"Chief, there was not a promise. What we had - what we have in an understanding," Rance reminded him, refusing to show weakness. He knew better than to do such as the Chief respected strength and would not tolerate a gutless man.

Rance's heart jumped into his throat as Carly was suddenly breaking free and her steps quickened as she walked to the teepee, bypassing the distraught older woman and the brave comforting her.

Rance delivered a great sigh; this wasn't going to end well....for either of them.

Quite suddenly the Chief's wrath was unleashed and Rance attempted to calm him by assuring, "I'll collect her and we'll leave immediately."

"And you will never be allowed here again," the Chief assured and Rance was suddenly concerned about the violent look on the man's face.

They entered the teepee - the Chief with Rance following a step behind as well as the herd of braves along with the older woman and the brave who had been comforting her.

Rance could have been knocked over with a feather and he heard Carly speaking to the woman lying on the blankets in the Cherokee tongue - and he quickly reminded himself that she had been reared by the Cherokees. Of course she was able to speak their language - and this was probably one reason why she had been chosen for the assignment.

The young woman on the blanket seemed to be very upset but quickly calmed as Carly spoke to her.

She paused and glancing at all of the people in the room she addressed the Chief, "Privacy please?"

"If you kill my daughter-"

"I will save your daughter as well as your grandchildren," she assured and he lifted his brows in surprise.

First off, a woman speaking so boldly to a Chief was not allowed. Secondly, he was more surprised by her comment of 'grandchildren' which is why he decided to let the first point of contention go....for the moment.

'Grandchildren?" he plied.

"Little Deer is carrying twins, perhaps triplets."

"Three?"

"Three."

"It is a bad omen," the Chief rattled off, displeased over her confirmation while motioning the braves from the teepee.

"It's a gift from Great White Father. Bad omens - that's nothing more than folklore."

Rance waited outside with the Chief who appeared to be keeping a close eye on him. Heaven help both him and Carly if anything happened to Little Deer. The hours passed from morning to noon to afternoon and dusk was quickly approaching. And it was an exceptionally painful and long wait as the Chief didn't want to talk - not until he knew the status of his daughter and her offspring.

They tensed as the Chief's wife exited the teepee, tears streaming down her face, both the Chief and Rance hurrying towards her and rapidly closing the distance.

"Is Little Deer dead, my wife?"

"Alive. Carly has saved not only her but all three children. Three boys."

The Chief wobbled and if not for Rance he would have fallen to the ground. Unfortunately, the 'save' was costly to Rance's shoulder, the red blood suddenly oozing and saturating the khaki shirt he was wearing.

"You're bleeding," the Chief managed.

"I'll be okay. Carly will fix me up after she is finished caring for Little Deer," Rance assured.

"Why? What has happened to you? Did I-"

"I was shot a few days ago and frankly I'd be dead if not for Carly."

"She cured you?"

"She saved my life. Tell me," the Chief encouraged, leading Rance back towards the fire and motioning an Indian maiden to bring a wet cloth.

Rance suspected that the Chief was looking for conversation to divert his thoughts from his daughter. He would need to see her to believe; he knew that much about the Chief  thorough his personal experience with him.

They settled in front of  a fire ring as Rance pressed the cloth to his wound. It had basically stopped bleeding and was nothing more than an 'ooze'.

"We were on the stage together - Carly and myself," Rance began. "We reached the rest station. I exited and before I knew what happened a bad man - who was wanted for robbery and murder - appeared out of the station door. He wasted no time in shooting the driver of the stage, then myself. The driver was only grazed, thankfully. I thought we were goners but Carly exited the coach, stabbed the man in the chest with two knitting needles, then used a derringer on the man's brother. Shot him dead-center in the forehead."

The Chief's eyes widened. "A woman?"

"She's no ordinary woman," Rance assured with a laugh.

"She speaks in the Cherokee tongue," the Chief mused. "And she is white."

"Yes, she is white but she was raised by a Cherokee named Painted Warrior Fairsky from infancy. I would say that she knows more of the Cherokee way of life than that of the white man."

The Chief snarled his lips and asked, "Why didn't you say all of this at the beginning? This changes everything."

"I would have but you didn't want me to talk," Rance reminded and the Chief snarled again, not liking being corrected.

Their attention was drawn to the teepee, the Chief's wife, his son-in-law and Carly exiting - all holding a baby boy.

Rance had never seen anyone in his life move as quickly as the Chief - his legs moving so quickly that is was a miracle that his legs hadn't caught on fire.

Rance's dark eyes moved to Carly; she had a big smile on her face and he considered that she'd never more beautiful than at that moment.

After the Chief had a thorough look at all of his grandsons, he entered the teepee. Rance had half-expected Carly to follow him but she wisely gave the two space.

He closed the distance between them and she told him, "The boys are very healthy. One had to be turned. Little Deer was exceptionally brave."

"And how is she?"

"Weak, but she is young and should quickly recover. I do not expect any problems. She is already requesting nourishment," Carly smiled.

The Chief exited the teepee and Rance mused that his eyes were quite red and puffy. He immediately addressed Carly using his native tongue.

Rance gazed at her, his brows lifted in curiosity. "The Chief asked if we could stay to celebrate the birth of his grandsons and the life of his daughter. And there are others here that are sick and who need my help. He has promised me anything I wish within reason. We will need to stay the night."

Rance looked at the Chief and he nodded in agreement, his arms folded across his ample chest. He appeared to have regained his composure.

"Could you marry us? Before the celebration?"

"It will be done," the Chief echoed as he took his grandson from Carly and walked away to begin preparations.

Carly gazed at Rance in awe and he told her, "I love you Carly and I'll never stop. Will you marry me? If not, you're going to make me feel very embarrassed in front of the Chief."

Carly laughed as she closed the distance between them, and they sealed their love with a kiss.

"I love you too and I always will. I am proud to become your wife."

Rance kissed her again, a joyous sound of music starting to thread through the air.

But my, it was good to be alive.....

THE END

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