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Lakota Love

Date: 8/17/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: Tigger1972, Rating: , Source: LushStories

murderous Yanks as he could. With the war over, his wife and sons dead, his home burned and his burned land unfarmable, Gavin McKeon had no home to go to. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ He was in the southwest region of the Nebraska territory. Even though he was behind schedule, it was actually a better time to be in the region. If he had made the time he hoped and arrived in the area three months earlier, he would have walked right into a war between the Sioux and the Union Army. The Union, with superior firepower had won and the region was at peace for now. Of course the war was a problem that the Union Army created in the first place with typical government tyranny. At any rate, the travel was safe as the Sioux, Cheyenne, and Arapaho licked their wounds and plotted in their camps. Gavin was riding cross country, due south, cutting his own trail. His only possessions besides the clothes on his body and the wide brimmed felt hat on his head were his Army pack, his old trusty Kentucky long rifle, a Henry repeating rifle he took from a dead Yankee during the War, two 1851 Colt Navy revolvers he’d had since the Mexican War, a Bowie knife on his belt, and his sturdy paint horse. His travels took him through some beautiful hilly country. It was an easy ride and very peaceful. It was just the thing that Gavin needed. Gavin could easily see why people wanted to settle in these parts. He was tempted to stop and stake ... a claim himself. The peace of the day was cut by a scream. Gavin’s head snapped to the front and the paint flinched, startled. Gavin’s first thought was that it was some settlers having a domestic dispute – none of his business. No. There wouldn’t be any settlers in these parts, so far from the nearest fort. Who would be out here? Gavin’s curiosity took hold. If a lady was being abused, he would make it his business. The scream seemed to come from the south, just ahead of him. In the hills, it was sometimes hard to tell. The scream came again. It was blood curdling. This wasn’t a simple dispute, this was a woman in trouble. Gavin spurred his paint up the hill. Just before he crested, he reigned in his horse and jumped off. He quickly tied his horse to a tree just below the crest of the hill and pulled down both of his rifles. His Henry was good at close range and had saved his bacon on several occasions. He figured he would need his long rifle, though. He could shoot a squirrel out of a tree from two hundred yards with a good shooting support. His Henry stayed loaded, but he had to load his long rifle and did so as he climbed to the top of the hill. At the top of the hill were a cluster of boulders. He walked behind them, set his Henry rifle against the rocks and brought his long rifle to the ready. He slowly peered around the west side of the rocks looking down the hill. Immediately, his blood began to boil. The view from the top of the hill revealed a river running west to ...