Free Oklahoma's Gold by Kathryn Long

to slap if off, or more likely, kiss it. She sighed once again.
     
    "Are you going to talk to Emma, or not?" she snapped, her patience gone completely.
     
    "I won't answer that until you calm down, come over here, and sit next to me," he answered quietly.
     
    She wasn't sure why, but without giving it one thought, she did just that. He then took her hand in his and brought his face so very close to hers, but he didn't kiss her. Instead he talked, his words soft and warm. He talked about how much the kiss meant, how much he enjoyed spending this time with her and being able to look at her beauty. But when put into words it was just too much, too fast. She began to panic and stood up in a quick jolt.
     
    "I have to get some sleep, Daniel," she stammered. "There's a lot we have to do tomorrow, and I for one want to be well-rested." She headed quickly for the door.
     
    "Jess! Wait!" Daniel called out, a total look of confusion on his face, but she was already inside. He sat there for a brief moment staring at the door before realizing she wasn't coming back.
     
    "Women!" He shook his head in disgust, got up, and walked toward the bunkhouse. At least the horses, he understood. No problem there.
     
    As he approached the building, he noticed a dim light in one of the windows and the shadow of a figure pacing back and forth. At three o'clock in the morning that wasn't normal. He puzzled over the fact. The ranch hands needed to be up at six a.m., so most were in bed by ten. A good night's rest, Daniel knew from experience, was an absolute necessity to survive the physical demands of the job. Maybe one of the men was sick. That concerned him since they couldn't afford to lose even one hand. Not during branding. He'd have to rustle up a replacement. Pronto. Better to find out about this right away. His jaw clenched tightly. He picked up his pace, all thoughts of Jess pushed out of his mind.
     
    As he came closer, his eyes detected a second figure in the window. This one appeared to be sitting. The sound of voices quietly arguing could be heard. Now, Daniel had new concerns. He anxiously approached the bunkhouse door. Reaching out for the handle, a sudden howl of a coyote made Daniel jump. He was surprised at how nervous he felt. He didn't even know yet what this was all about. Ever since Fred's accident, life in Chickasha had been one crazy episode after another. Everyone seemed to be on his or her guard, worrying what would come next.
     
    A chill went through Daniel as he watched the moon darken behind a passing cloud. He looked once more at the handle and started to turn it when a slight rustling sounded behind him, then a loud, distinct thud. It was the last sound he remembered from that night.
     

Interlude:  The Journey
     
     
     
    Alikchi rubbed his body with oil from bear fat to keep him warm during the cool nights. He stood proudly before Nanih Waiya, the leaning mound. It was nearly forty feet high and stretched across almost an acre. Surrounding it were the remains of a wall, just bits and pieces. The mound held much power, he believed. For centuries his Choctaw ancestors would meet here for religious ritual and important tribal decisions. At least until the white man arrived, they did. Alikch i felt the bitter taste of betrayal in his mouth. This was a very spiritual sight. Deep inside remained the bones of many ancestors. Their spirits, he sensed, were all around him. Giving him power and courage for his journey.
     
    He had packed his food and extra clothing, wrapped everything tightly and placed them in his bag, which he now tied securely to the rear of his horse. The mingo, district chief of Chickasha, expected him in at least twenty days. He had said it was urgent. To right a wrong. So he would leave tonight. The setting sun would be his beacon, calling him to another homeland, the land of the red people, Oklahoma. He mounted his horse and dug his mocassined heals into its sides, galloping forward. The journey