1. Lakota Love


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

    east. This was the South Platte River and Gavin had expected to cross it today. The river was lined with beautiful fall colored cottonwood trees. The leaves blazed fiery red, orange, and yellow, and smoldering browns. The beauty ended there. Along the bank, there were at least a dozen lifeless Indian bodies – men, women, and children dead from gunshot wounds. To the east of the bodies, there were two horses tied to trees. And two U.S. Army soldiers in those goddamn Yankee blue jackets. One wore sergeant stripes and the other was a private. They were wrestling with a struggling Indian girl. Gavin’s mind was thrust back in time three and half years. Mary running, falling dead, the burning pain in his back, his sons dying at the hands of Union soldiers. The evil glare of the Union captain. “Git ‘er hands,” the sergeant directed. The private grabbed her left, but with her free hand, she delivered a solid right hook that sent the private reeling and he let her go. She was strong. She tried to make a run for it, but the sergeant was faster. In three steps he grabbed her leather tunic and backhanded her, knocking her to the ground. She was dazed, but still conscious. She tried to get up, but her head was spinning and could only crawl. “Damn it!” the sergeant exclaimed, “She won’t be as much fun like this.” He turned to the private, “Go on boy fetch some rope.” “Yes, sergeant!” As the private ran back to the horses to retrieve the rope, the sergeant walked slowly to the Indian girl. ...
    This was Gavin’s chance. If he was going to rescue this girl, from these vile monsters he was going to have to take advantage of the lull. Gavin leaned against the rock for support. The sergeant bent down and grabbed the Indian girl by her hair and spun her over. He straddled her, sitting on her pelvis. She tried to resist, but the sergeant was easily able to grab her hands and hold them over her head. Gavin lined up the sergeant’s head in his sights. It was a long shot, but Gavin had more than two decades of experience and elevation on his side. The private was already at the sergeant’s side with the rope and he began quickly tying the Indian girl’s hands. “Whoo hoo!” the private yelled excitedly, “I ain’t had me none in months.” “Just git ‘er tied,” the sergeant instructed, “We got plenty of time.” Gavin placed the pad of his index finger on the trigger and took a deep breath. He could feel his heart beat slowing. Calm. Halfway through his exhale, he squeezed. Just as the private finished tying the girl’s hands, they were both sprayed by something wet. He looked down to see the girl’s tunic and face spattered with blood. Before he could react, he was startled by the report of rifle fire. At the same time, the sergeant’s lifeless and nearly decapitated body slumped to the ground. The private forgot about the Indian girl, sprang to his feet, pulled his Colt Army revolver, and sprinted for the nearest tree. From the top of the hill, Gavin was almost done reloading by the time ...
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