“Anytime the subject of Indians comes up they talk about Jim, at least in Ester. Jim was a white boy captive taken back from the Indians. He couldn’t adjust to white ways. Ask me, knowing them Hoody boys, they wouldn’t let him, but the up-shoot of it is, he tore into them one day and nearly killed them before he could be pulled off.”
Poppin shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t have Sam’s sense of humor. I don’t know and half of what they said, I don’t believe. The point I’m making is, the boy was white, born white anyway. He was taught to live like the Indians, and no way around it, the Indian way is savage. So Jim was savage. A white savage, if ya will.”
“How long would it take to turn a child?” Queens wondered aloud.
“Who knows, but it sure takes longer to unlearn than it takes to learn. That was ten years or so ago, and it don’t sound like he has yet.”
“Raping,” he said, shaking his head.
“An Indian takes what he wants.”
“Don’t ever set that dog on me or I will kill him,” he warned coldly.
“A man like you would never know or understand fear. You have to live it to know how desperate a person can be to never be alone.”
Even if it was someone she despised as much as she did her husband or feared as much as she did him, he thought. He said, “Having someone with you won’t make it go away. You just need someone to make you feel safe long enough to know you don’t have anything to fear.”
“Who? Henry? The man who left me with a total stranger for money?” she asked with a sardonic smile and scoffed. “A man who’d just as soon be rid of me? No, no one can, not even a man like you who’s never known a day of fear in his life.”
Clay watched her silently as she put the dog out of his way in the pantry and closed herself away behind the bedroom door with defeat and resignation in her manner. She was wrong, of course. He did know what her kind of fear was like. If he could stay longer than the time it would take her husband to return, he might even be able to help her learn how to control, if not conquer, the fear. But he couldn’t stay longer than he’d given his word he would. He shouldn’t even be here. He shouldn’t have stopped. Every minute made the fear he fought to control claw stronger in his guts, just knowing they were near. Telling himself there was little chance they’d ever know he was anywhere in the area didn’t do any good. He shouldn’t have let his first look at the blonde-haired, green-eyed beauty influence him into staying, no matter how afraid he thought she was.
Larion Wills, a multi-genre author, also writes under the name of Larriane Wills. From science fiction to western romances she holds up to her tag of ‘two names, one author, thousands of stories.’
Born in Oklahoma, but raised in Arizona she feels a native to the state and has settled in the high desert country. In a quiet, rural area with a family who tolerates her writer’s single-mindedness, she presents us with a series of unique westerns while still producing contemporary romances, many laced with paranormal settings, all with strong characterizations and suspenseful plots, capable of dragging you into a story in a genre you thought before you didn’t care for. At her website, http://www.larriane.com , you can keep abreast of releases under both pen names, keep up with new releases through various publishers, and she invites you to contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org