Free Gray (Awakening Book 1) by Shannon Reber Page A

shook my head and patted Sif’s neck as we rode on. “It’s Norse. Mom told me that the Norse became Scandinavians after Christianity came through,” I said with a smirk. “Apparently my ancestors were some of the pillaging Vikings. I like to keep those traditions alive by depriving my sister of anything she doesn’t tie down.”
    Mrs. Connelly gave me a small smile. “It’s impressive that your mom was well versed in her genealogy enough to learn the language her ancestors spoke. My son has no interest in learning anything about his Shawnee blood.” She shook her head but there was no rancor in her statement, simply an observation of a fact about her son.
    I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to discuss Ben or anything to do with him. I certainly wasn’t his biggest fan and his mother probably thought he hung the moon.
    “Do you know anything about your dad’s family? Vincent is Irish, isn’t it?”
    I nodded. “It is. Dad never talked about his family’s history though.” Why hadn’t I thought of that?
    I should have looked for such information. Why hadn’t I taken the opportunity to go through Gran’s records since we lived in her house? Why didn’t I remember any stories about Dad’s family? Had he never mentioned anything at all, or had I forgotten?
    I wracked my brain for any small memory, but nothing came to me in the least. I didn’t remember any mention of family. The few things Dad had told me about his own childhood when I was a little kid had been vague in the extreme. It was like he couldn’t have cared less about family.
    I turned my attention back to Mrs. Connelly and gave her a questioning smile. “You’re pure Shawnee, aren’t you?” I asked, in hopes she would talk just to fill the void in my mind.
    “I am.” She looked around the land where we rode, her eyes filled by pride. “My people have lived in this area for centuries. One of my great grandfathers was the chief who tried to negotiate for peace with the British during the French and Indian War.”
    I smiled. “It doesn’t surprise me in the least you’re descended of a peacemaker.”
    Mrs. Connelly sighed out a weary breath. “You wouldn’t have said that if you’d known my Ben over the past few years. You’d have thought we were nothing but a bunch of bloodthirsty savages.”
    I coughed out a small laugh, sure that must be a joke since Ben appeared to be spineless from my observations of him. “That is the last thing I would have expected to hear.”
    Mrs. Connelly shook her head wearily. “It wasn’t entirely his fault, but the school didn’t see it that way. He’s on thin ice with them. One more fight and they say he’s done, but I can see the warrior still in there sometimes. He hates walking away from fights, but there isn’t much choice for him at this point. He’s got his dad’s temperament,” she said, her face turned down as her eyes went misty. “When my husband and daughter were killed, Ben and I just—” she began, but broke off. She swallowed as though to clear a lump from her throat. “I’m sorry, Shayla. I don’t mean to burden you with my own pain.” She turned her eyes back to regard the mountains, a sorrowful smile on her lips. “O Great Spirit of our Ancestors, I raise my pipe to you. To your messengers the four winds, and to Mother Earth who provides for your children,” she said quietly, almost to herself.
    But the words were so familiar, I couldn’t help but finish that prayer of peace. “Give us the wisdom to teach our children to love, to respect, and to be kind to each other so that they may grow with peace in mind. Let us learn to share all the good things you provide for us on this Earth.”
    Mrs. Connelly turned to look at me. “You surprise me, Shayla,” she said, but there was so much sorrow in her eyes, I wanted to weep.
    “I wish I knew where I learned it,” I said, though in the moment, it didn’t matter that much to me. I rode my mom’s horse, with a