Free New Frontier of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 2) by Dorothy Wiley Page A

could empathize with John’s feelings. He felt much the same. He raked his fingers through his hair and, after pouring some coffee, studied the dancing flames, already turning some of the dry wood to glowing embers. What would it take to warm his own heart again?
    The three men stood quietly for a few moments sipping from their pewter cups.
    John and Bear were probably wondering who it was he had just referred to, but they knew better than to ask. If he wanted them to know, he would tell them. Parts of his life were off limits, even to his brothers.
    Bear cleared his throat and then said in a low voice, “I need to tell you some news. I did na want to say anything about it last night in front of the women and wee ones. Sam, while ye and Stephen were huntin’ yesterday, I met a trapper who wandered by. He saidsomethin’ has stirred the Cherokee up again. They attacked a flatboat loaded with settlers on the Cumberland River. The same flatboat we used to cross into Kentucky on our way here. They murdered all but ‘one, even the women and wee ones. They kept one man to torture—the poor soul. Burned him alive.”
    John gasped and his face paled in horror.
    Sam remained unruffled, having seen similar scenes himself, but his warrior instinct kicked in. He quickly surveyed the area around them. Stephen was on guard duty now and was still circling the campsite.
    “They tortured the man to see if he would show signs of weakness—beg for mercy or scream in fear,” Bear explained for John’s benefit. “His body was still smolderin’ when they found him.”
    John shuddered at the gruesome description.
    “The Kentucky and Ohio militia are pursuin’ the Cherokee to the south,” Bear explained.
    Keeping his voice low, Sam said, “I’m surprised it was the Cherokee. Maybe the hunter had it wrong. The Shawnee are the most hostile tribe in the region. Most of the violent destruction of Kentucky settlements has been their work.”
    “Are there any Shawnee near here?” John asked Sam.
    “They live to the north, but Kentucky is their favorite hunting ground.”
    “We best be prepared,” Bear said.
    “Agreed. We’ll double our watch at night and keep the women and children close. We must be certain we’re not in a position to be ambushed,” Sam told them, “by natives
or
malicious whitemen.”
    Bear turned to John. “Aye, the Shawnee are vicious. They mutilate their captives to ensure they will na come back in the next life as warriors. They’ll smash teeth in, cut off fingers, break leg bones, gouge out eyes…”
    “Enough,” John nearly yelled. “I’ve heard enough.”
    “Keep your voice down,” Sam admonished, “you’ll wake the others. Bear just wants you to realize what we’re dealing with John. You need to know what we might be up against, if not now, then maybe later. Hostile tribes can only be punished for poor behavior, not bribed or reasoned with.”
    “We’re up against ignorant savages, that’s what,” Bear said. “They do na think the white man was created by their ‘Master of Life—the Great Creator.’ They think of us as less than human—like some sort of animal.”
    “Sounds much like what you said about native Indians a few campfires back,” John pointed out.
    “That’s different,” Bear said, sounding annoyed.
    “How so?” John asked, his eyes and his voice challenging Bear.
    Bear pulled back his massive shoulders. “How can you defend these savages, man? If ye’d seen that flatboat and what they did to those poor wee ones, ye’d be wantin’ to use your powder on every bloody savage hiding in these woods. D’ye realize how close we came to that being us?”
    “I’m not defending them. I’m just trying to understand them,” John protested.
    Bear snorted. “I do na need to ‘understand’ them. Nay, I want them to leave us the bloody hell alone.”
    “But if you understand them, you can reason with them,” John said.
    Sam blew out his breath in frustration. It was