The Story Begins

Chapter 1: Cheyenne

In a small dusty saloon nestled in the small town of Four Corners five men sat enthralled in a game of five card stud. The dealer, a handsome debonair gambler shuffled the cards expertly. Ezra Standish was an accomplished card player among other things who had recently decided to make Four Corners his home, for the time being anyway. A promise of amnesty had lured him to stay and be part of the seven men hired to protect this small town. To his left a young man with long sandy brown hair, his hat hung behind his back and his fringeless buckskin coat giving him the ambiance of a hunter, to those who knew him he was Vin Tanner, ex-buffalo hunter, ex bounty hunter who was also one of the seven men who had recently decided to call Four Corners home, for now. A dollar a day, board and room had been a deal he could not pass up. His personal business would keep for now. He sipped his drink and casually eyed the cards being dealt to him while the man dressed in black sitting next him, poured himself another shot of whiskey. Chris Larrabee was a hard man, a self-made gunfighter born out of traumatic loss with a keen sense of right and wrong he favored justice. To the gamblers right was Buck Wilmington, a good-hearted Casanova who you could always count on to back you up in a fight. If you could get him out of bed. Next to Buck doing his best to try and guess the gamblers next move was the youngest of the group, John Dunne affectionally known as JD, a dark-haired young man who probably wasn't more than eighteen or nineteen, with a fast draw and eager to prove he could hold his own with the best of them.

"Ah Hell!" Buck cursed tossing his cards into the middle of the table, "I'm out, this hands about as worthless as a one-legged man in a but kickin contest." He picked up his mug of beer and strolled over to the bar striking up a conversation with one of the scantily dressed ladies who had been serving the drinks.

The saloon doors swung open, a young colored man came through them and made his way over to the table.

"Have a seat Nathan, you can take Bucks place. He was losing anyway," JD laughed.

Nathan Jackson was also one of the men hired to protect the town, An Ex-slave, and a steady hand with a knife. He was also the towns healer and only physician of sorts, he had lived in Four Corners for a few months before any of the others had arrived. He'd learned what doctoring he knew from his time as a stretcher bearer in the union army. And from what he had picked up from a certain Sioux medicine woman he had met some years back.

Nathan removed his hat and took JD up on his invitation.

"You and Josiah sure been busy builden on that church, you get finished yet?" JD asked.

"Finished up a few days ago." Nathan answered before he ordered some food and a beer from the young waitress.

"Why were you building on to it anyway?" JD's curiosity could not be silenced.

"You'll see when Josiah gets back." was the only response Nathan would give.

"And where dare I ask has our illustrious preacher gone off to? He's been quite elusive these past several days". Ezra questioned while keeping a steady eye on his cards.

Vin tossed his cards down discontentedly. "I'm out."

"Call." Chris declared laying his hand on the table.

"Straight flush." Ezra announced as he spread his cards out while flashing a sparkling smile, to the dismay of the remaining players.

"He had some place to go." Nathan answered Ezra as the waitress set a plate of food in front of him. "He should be back in a few more days, might be a bit longer."

Josiah Sanchez was the last of the seven peacekeepers hired to take care of this small town. An ex-preacher turned gunfighter. No one really knew what had turned the man from his calling but like the rest of them, he had his fair share of secrets in his past. Not even his friend Nathan knew the whole story.

+ + + + + + +

The war between the states had been over for 3 years, Freedom had one and those that held slaves had been ordered to set them free. Most had left to start new lives, Some had kind owners, though not many, who offered them a wage if they stayed on. Josiah had done his duty and fought for freedom. He'd served two of the 4 years the war had lasted. It had taken another year for him to come to terms with the nightmares. While serving those two years in the army, he'd met his friend Nathan Jackson, Nathan was a runaway slave who had joined the union army as a stretcher bearer in the same unit where Josiah both fought and functioned as preacher for those who lay dying or had lost their lives. Not long after the war had ended Nathan had taken what he had learned in the field hospitals and made himself useful as a healer. Sometime later he'd found himself in a rough, yet small town called Four Corners, since they had no doctor to speak of, he decided this is where he would settle. Without a medical professional, it was a place where he felt needed.

Josiah, still fighting the turmoil inside himself, had found a place to stay for the time being. Outside of Four Corners at the old Mission, the building was barely standing, and the walls that surrounded it were only half there. The place looked like a war zone, blown up by either cannon fire or a freak storm. No one knew. This is where Josiah had decided to serve up his own penance, stacking stones along the partly standing walls that surrounded the old Mission. His reasons were his own.

It was Nathan who'd introduced him to Chris Larrabee and urged him to join their cause, protecting a small Seminole village a day and a half's ride from town. Soon after they had saved the small village they'd found themselves protecters of the town of Four Corners, A dollar a day, board and room ended up being the offer from Judge Travis. The old church in town had caught Josiah's attention, there was no preacher, and it was badly in need of repair. Josiah had charged himself with rebuilding the church and making it his home. Inadvertently in the process, becoming the town's only preacher. That was two years ago.

During the war and the time after, he had not seen Cheyenne, and in the last two years he'd visited only once. His obligations had kept him from leaving for too long at a time.

He'd missed his daughter and was anxious to Visit her again. She was no longer a little girl, she had grown into a beautiful young woman who reminded him so much of her mother. She herself had gone through some trying times. The man she was to marry, was killed when Crow worriers attacked her village. Red Lance was his name and the two had been smitten with each other since they were children. From what Josiah understood, Crow worriers attacked the village to steel horses and women. When one of them set their sights on Cheyenne and her horse. Red Lance had fought the crow worrier, saving Cheyenne and her cherished black and white paint but had lost his life in the process. It was Wind Spirit, Cheyenne's faithful horse, who then stomped the crow brave to death as Cheyenne fell to her knees next to the man she loved, he died in her arms. Cheyenne had been devastated. She and Red Lance were to be married that coming year. Josiah had yet to forgive himself for not being there to comfort her, he was glad she had her brothers and her grandfather to help her through it.

It had been thirteen years since he had found his friends Pierre and Snowbird Pasquinel dead, and his daughter terrified as she hid in the corn crib. He'd left her and her brothers with their grandfather Standing Bear in his village. Josiah had visited as often as he could, but sometimes his visits were years apart. This time, however, he was not going for just a visit. Several months ago, Jake, Cheyenne's oldest brother, had found his way to Josiah's church, with a message from his grandfather. War had come to the Sioux, many tribes had been, and were being, forced on to reservations. Many tribes such as the Cheyenne and Arapahoe had banded together with the Lakota, for one last effort to defeat the white men. Standing Bear insisted Josiah take Cheyenne to live with him now, he was afraid for her. Jake had left the tribe some time ago to make his way in the white world, he was an apprentice blacksmith in a town three-days ride from Four Corners, he was married to his childhood sweetheart Raven, and they were expecting their first child in a few months. Soon after Jake had left, Josiah enlisted the help of Nathan to help him build a room at the back of the church for his daughter. Nathan knew only that Cheyenne was Josiah's Goddaughter. Josiah had enlisted his help once before taking him to the village to help with an outbreak of influenza. He'd done all he could with what he knew and had also learned what he could from the village medicine woman, Cheyenne's Grandmother, Blue Leaf. Unfortunately, just as the dreaded disease had run its coarse, Blue Leaf came down with pneumonia and died.

The village was a good 8 days there and 8 days back. The only one who knew where he had gone had been Nathan. Now he was returning with his daughter. Taking her from the only home she'd known for the last thirteen years. She'd been hesitant to go and argued with her grandfather and brother Marcel, to let her stay. But in the end, it had been Standing Bears final word. His words still echoed in Josiah's mind. "It is past time you take responsibility for your daughter Josiah. Take care of her and keep her safe. It is now your turn to give her a home." The old man had a way of chastising you when you didn't even realize he was doing it. Josiah felt the guilt even more. It was true, he had first let her aunt and uncle, his very good friends Pierre and Snowbird raise her, then her grandparents. It was way past time he took care of his responsibility; he was her father. And he knew one day soon he would have to tell her the truth.

+ + + + + + +

It was midafternoon when a very excited JD came bursting through the saloon doors and rushing over to where some of the seven protectors sat having an early dinner or late lunch depending on how you looked at it.

"Josiah's back! And he's got someone with him." JD paused catching his breath. "It's a girl! an Indian girl!"

Nathan smiled to himself, while Buck, the self-proclaimed ladies' man, was immediately curious and quickly shoveled in the rest of his food, wiped his mouth then followed JD outside.

"Well now." Ezra shuffled a deck of cards at a nearby table and took a gulp from the shot of whiskey sitting on the table in front of him. "This could be interesting."

Vin and Chris both looked at Nathan who had quietly finished his meal and stood as he set his hat on his head. The Cheshire look on the man's face made the two share an inquisitive glance before nonchalantly following him outside.

Ezra finished stacking his deck of cards and took the last gulp of his drink before he to, meandered toward the door if for no other reason than idol curiosity.

From down the street they could see Josiah riding toward them. Next to him was a young woman mounted on a black and white paint. As the riders ventured closer, they could see a hawk feather hung from the paint's long mane. The girl wore a buckskin dress adorned with Sioux beading, a beaded belt around her waist with a matching scabbard, a hunting knife nestled inside. Moccasin boots covered her feet and calves. Her hair hung down her back adorned on the right side with a small white feather attached to a beaded hair ornament. She was unmistakably Indian.

As they road closer it was Vin who caught her gaze. It was he who saw her eyes, they were a bright blue like the blue that lit the morning sky. The girl quickly turned her attention away from him and back to the road ahead.

Josiah politely nodded in acknowledgement as he rode by. Vin tipped the brim of his hat watching as they passed.

All eyes were on them. Chris smiled, shook his head and sat in one of the chairs outside the saloon. Whatever Josiah was up to, he sure had not only his friends, but the whole town curious.

Towns people going about their daily business stopped and gaped as the two road by, including a small group of cowboys from one of the nearby ranches. One young man with suspenders and long braided hair under his hat took special notice.

Vin leaned up against a pole as he watched the two riders continue on toward the church.

"Josiah's been holden out on us." Buck quipped as he watched them ride away.

"Did you see her eyes" JD asked in astonishment. "Since when do Indians have blue eyes?"

"When they're half white." Vin answered as he stuck a toothpick in the corner of his mouth, by the markings on her clothing he would guess the other half was Sioux, Lakota if he wasn't mistaken, but he did not voice it. Instead, he gave his companions a short nod and headed down the street toward his wagon.

Nathan smiled to himself and with a nod to Chris started toward the church.

"Hey!" Buck called out. "Where ya goin?"

"To say Hello." Nathan answered.

"Well hang on there, Nathan." Buck hollered back as he strutted off catching up with the healer. "Think I'll go along and welcome the young lady to town myself."

Nathan shook his head as Buck then JD both caught up to him.

"I don't think that such a good idea Buck, the girl's Josiah's Goddaughter, and she's not use to bein around folks like us."

"Goddaughter!" JD exclaimed.

"If she aint use to bein around folks like us, what are you doin going over to the church right now then?" Buck huffed.

"Cuz, I met her a few years ago, there was some folks in her village that needed some doctoring, Josiah asked me to look in on em."

JD started to say something else, and Nathan held up his hand.

"Just go on about your business, Josiah'll tell you everything when he's good and ready, now let em' be for now."

With that Nathan left both JD and Buck standing on the board walk, watching him stroll off.

"C'mon JD you can buy me a beer."

***The Next Day***

Cheyenne kept her eyes on the ground before her while following a step behind Josiah as they made their way to the general store. She carried the empty basket for the things they would buy close to her side.

Josiah tipped his hat and greeted two women in fine dresses with ruffled bonnets adorning their heads.

"Good morning, Miss Adelaide, Mrs. Jenkins, fine mornin isn't it." he smiled.

Both women greeted Josiah with a friendly grin until they set their sights on the young woman clad in the traditional Native buckskins, walking next to him. Their smiles turned to scowls as they rushed off with scarcely a glance the Indian girls way.

Josiah proudly took his Goddaughters hand and positioned it inside his elbow holding his head high as the two-woman passed by. Cheyenne paid no attention as they strutted away.

A young man with braided hair and stubble on his face stood leaning on a nearby post watching them intently. He stood straight and removed his hat holding it over his heart as Josiah and Cheyenne came closer.

"Good morning." he greeted the young Lakota girl speaking in his mother's natural dialect and giving her a small bow without so much as a nod to Josiah.

Hearing her native language Cheyenne immediately turned and glanced his way, then just as quickly reverted her gaze back to the path before her.

"Blue eyes!" he whispered under his breath. "Beautiful blue eyes." She most definitely was not only Sioux as he had surmised by her dress, but like him, she was half white. This made him even more captivated as he watched her walk by him, He wondered if the older man she was with was her father.

"Hey High Wolf!" came a brusque voice from across the street, "Get your Indian ass on a horse boy! Royals gonna skin us alive as it is, we shoulda been back last night."

The young man set his hat back on his head and watched as Josiah and Cheyenne, continued making their way up the boardwalk without acknowledging him.

"Until we meet again pretty blue." he muttered in English. Then sprinted off and leapt from behind onto his mount with an Indian shriek of accomplishment.

The Three men with him laughed.

"Looks like ya done found yourself a little squaw eh boy." The dark-haired cowboy on the red roan scoffed.

The one they called High Wolf, road up next to him giving him a rattle snake smile before raising his leg and kicking the cowboy off his horse.

"Don't call her that Ames, you hear me don't you ever call her that!"

"Woah, Indian, a might touchy there ain't ya." Ames retorted standing and brushing the dust off of his clothes before getting back on his horse.

"Both of you settle down." An older man with a greying beard and a dull light-colored hat interrupted before the altercation escalated. "We got ride'n to do or we'll all be lookin for another job. Now get goin!" he ordered giving his horse a kick and riding out ahead of them, followed by the other cowboy who looked like he'd had way too much drink the night before and could use a good bath and some fresh clothes.

Ames looked over at High Wolf, "You heard the man Indian, lets ride!" With that he slapped the boy's horse on the rear causing it to break into a gallop and rode out after him.

Cheyanne spared a quick look behind her just in time to see the young man ride away.

"You pay him no mind." Josiah warned. "He ain't keepin the best of company."

The quiet girl said nothing, only a look that told him she understood.

As they began to pass the livery, they found the area crowded with people and children, one little boy, that could not have been more than six or seven, ran up to them stopping wide eyed in front of Cheyenne, looking her up and down. "Are you a real Indian?" he asked excitedly.

Cheyanne glanced at Josiah silently asking him to translate, He repeated what the boy had asked in her native language. She smiled and looked down at the child and nodded.

"Wow!" the little boy exclaimed.

"Matthew? Matthew,"

A young woman with yellow hair coiffured into a tight bun, and a baby on her hip rushed up to the little boy.

"Look, Ma." The boy pointed up at Cheyenne.

"She is not the fountain in Central Park to be gawked at. What would your father say?" The boy lowered his arm and his gaze, shuffling his feet he muttered something.

"Matthew..." her tone held warning but wasn't cruel.

"He'd say I was being impert...imperrtarent...," he said, looking up at the woman.

"Impertinent," his mother chastised him. "And then some. Now apologize, our Stage is about to leave."

"I'm sorry," the boy said. She put her hand on his head and directed him back to face Cheyenne. He took his cap off his head and swept a bow. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss. I'm Mr. Matthew Sanderson and this is my mother Mrs. Sanderson."

"And..." the woman quietly prompted him.

"And I'm sorry I gawked at you like the fountain in Central Park. Though you're much more interesting..."

"Oh Matthew," the woman sighed and took a hold of the boy's hand. Then turned her attention to Cheyenne.

I' so sorry, he's just very inquisitive.

Josiah chuckled and turned to Cheyenne translating what was said.

Cheyenne looked at the little boy's mother and smiled then back to the boy and pointed to herself.

"Cheyenne." she told him "Please met-you" her French/Indian accent making her broken English even harder to understand.

"What she means son." Josiah interjected, "Is she's pleased to meet you." He smiled at the young man then looked to his mother and tipped his hat.

"Josiah Sanchez ma'am and my God daughter Cheyenne Pasquinel"

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, I'm sure." Mrs. Sanderson smiled politely. But the baby on her hip was becoming impatient. Mrs. Sanderson apologized and quickly took the children and disappeared back into the crowd.

Josiah and Cheyenne shared an amused grin as they continued on their way toward the general store.

"Your English needs a little work." Josiah teased.

"Not so much as your Lakota." Cheyenne stifled a giggle.

A well-dressed very blond woman accompanied by an older man who quickly scurried passed them. The man seemed to be worriedly looking for someone as he kept on as if he had not noticed them.

"Mornin Mary." Josiah tipped the brim of his hat.

"Josiah." The pretty blond woman stopped as she greeted him. "I'm afraid Mr. Carson is in a bit of a hurry to meet the group from the stage, you see his niece is arriving today and I think he's worried." For the first time she seemed to notice Cheyenne who stood quietly at Josiah's side. "And who is this?" she inquired rather intrusively.

"This is my Goddaughter Mary, Cheyenne Pasquinel."

Mary looked a bit taken back as she eyed the girl. "Uh, Your, goddaughter?"

"Cheyanne's father and I were good friends, close as brothers you might say."

"I see, well, it's nice to meet you Miss, Pasquinel."

Cheyenne looked up at her godfather and he translated Mary's words.

Mary looked confused.

"Her English is a bit rusty but give her time, she'll get used to it again." He explained.

Cheyenne eyed the woman cautiously, managing a guarded smile.

"Yes, I'm sure she will, if you'll excuse me, Josiah."

Josiah tipped his hat again as the woman went on her way.

"cha `ota tuw`awa"

"English Cheyenne practice your English." Josiah encouraged her.

"S, so m, ma, muh many, wh, whi," she became frustrated and spoke the word in her own language "Wasicu." (white people)

Josiah let out a hearty guffaw. "Oh, just wait until you see it on a Saturday when all the farmers and cowboys are intown."

Cheyenne looked at him for a translation.

"We really need to work on your English." He grinned.

+ + + + + + +

As they reached the mercantile Josiah took Cheyenne's basket and set it on the counter while giving Mrs. Potter instructions on the supplies to fill it with. Curious, Cheyenne walked about the store intrigued with the many different things there were for sale. Spotting the display with many different shaped beads in bright mixtures of colors Cheyenne stopped to admire them.

"Cheyenne? Is this all you need?" Josiah asked calling her over.

Going back to the counter Cheyenne looked over the contents of the basket then pointed to the cook pots hanging behind the counter.

Josiah chuckled. "Alright then, one cook pot Mrs. Potter."

The older lady behind the counter raised a questioning eyebrow then reached up and lifted one of the iron cook pots from its hook, setting it on the counter.

"That'll be an extra fifty cents Josiah."

Fumbling through the coins in his pocket Josiah paid for the purchases.

"Josiah?" Cheyenne tugged on his coat sleeve then pointed toward the beads.

The preacher grinned and checked the coins left in his pocket before looking back to Mrs. Potter. "We'll take an assortment of those as well.

When the purchases were finished, Cheyenne took the basket from the counter and followed Josiah as they made their way back down the boardwalk toward the church.

Chapter 2: Sarah

(Chapter written by Mauryn)

When she left her home in Virginia, Sarah's mother cried, fearing that her eldest daughter, who was heading off all alone into the 'wild frontier', without
a proper escort, would be kidnapped by savages or ravaged or both. At the time, Sarah thought this was the wildest and most exaggerated imaginings, but
not unexpected from her mother. The trip out to Four Corners however, made Sarah feel bad that she had thought her Mother was just showing her usual hysterics.

I wonder if Mother was right? Sarah thought as she looked curiously at this place which would be her new home. Perhaps this is the wild frontier after
all.

It hit Sarah, and hard, that she had never been so far away from home, and so alone among total strangers.

It was a relief to disembark, finally, from that broken-down stage coach, though she was regretting not letting someone help her with her heavy case, and
she vowed to let the next man who offered help carry the bulky, heavy bag ... Well, maybe.

She did not have to wait long. Before she had gone more than a few yards, three young men descended upon Sarah, all of them offering to carry her case.
Before she could decide which one to choose, they first began to argue, then actually brawling in the street. Sarah backed away hurriedly, open-mouthed and wide eyed, and stared in astonishment at these three brutes. Dear god, what have I gotten myself into, she thought with trepidation and gripped her
bag tighter, ready to use it either as a shield or a weapon. It was thick enough to make a good shield, and if she dropped it on someone's toes or swung
it into their shins, it would really do some damage. Sarah learned this from some experiences during her long trip.

"Alright, break it up there, gents! Break it up! Y'all back off and let her alone!" came an unfamiliar but commanding voice, and Sarah prayed that the man behind that voice had some authority in more ways than his words.

Apparently, he did. He waded into the three showing no fear whatsoever, and the three men seemed to know him? One man, the smallest of the three, quickly gave in and backed away from the newcomer, holding up both his hands and looking far too innocent, but the other two were not giving up. The fourth stranger did not seem surprised or deterred by this, however, and he swiftly dealt with one of his assailants. But

when Sarah saw the third much small man creeping up on the fourth man's blindside, she stepped forward and stuck out her slender foot to trip him up. With the help of his own momentum, she sent him sprawling into the gutter.

If that fourth one isn't the constable, I may be in deeper trouble than I thought, Sarah thought. And in the midst of her total shock at how the first three strangers had behaved, and out in public no less, Sarah could not help be impressed by how well the fourth man handled himself and those others.

It occurred to her, too late, that she could have run away while the fight was going on, but that was a cowardly thing to do. Sarah Eliza Collins was not a coward. And, she could not run while lugging that heavy bag, and she would die before leaving her bag. At best, and under its weight, all she could
manage was a slow and stately sort of waddle.

"Excuse me, Miss," the fourth man slowly approached her. "You alright? None of /em hurt you, did they?"

Sarah knelt down and picked up this strangers hat. "I-I'm fine, thank you, sir," Sarah finally found her voice. "They didn't hurt me. One offered to carry my case. They bickered and they started to fight. Then, you came along?"

Moving to peer around the helpful stranger, she saw the three men nursing many wounds, and slinking off in the opposite direction, muttering swear words not quite under their breaths.

She dusted off his hat and gave it back to him.

"Much obliged, Miss," the man said.

"I'm Sarah Eliza Collins. I am supposed to teach school here in Four corners. Are you the local constable?"

The man blinked.

"Well, I spose you could say that. So, you're the new school Marm?"

"Uh, I'm supposed to be," Sarah gave him a cautious smile. "And you are—"

"Well forgive my manners, Miss. Name's Buck Wilmington, at your service."

"Mr. Wilmington, why do you look so surprised?" Sarah did not think it was her accent that made him look so startled.

"Well, Miss, you're, uh, not what we were all 'xpectin'?"

Sarah grinned. "Let me guess," she said in her quiet voice with its posh British accent. "You were expecting an dowdy old lady?" she mustered her best educated southern accent and added, "Or some prissy Southern belle?"

The man called buck laughed. Well, I don't know about old, but ain't you supposed to be from—"

"Virginia," Sarah put in. "I am, daddy's grandfather was born and raised in Virginia, and all his sons after him, but my mother is a blue blood Brit."

"Well, welcome to Four corners, Miss Collins."

"I don't wish to be rude, Mr. Wilmington, but if those three are this town's idea of a welcome wagon," Sarah began, but buck interrupted. Listen, I'm real sorry those were the first men you met, Miss. If they come around given you more trouble, you just ask for ol' Buck.

"Mr. Wilmington," Sarah said, determined to be a bit more proper until she got to know this man better. He seemed goodhearted and well-intended, but he had an air about him, like one of those men Sarah's mother always warned her daughter's about.

"Would you know where the local school Marm is supposed to get settled?" Sarah inquired. "I'm supposed to find a woman called Mary, Mary—" The woman's
last name slipped Sarah's mind.

"Ms. Travis. She'll get you settled in. I'd be happy to walk you to the hotel and introduce you," and he held out his hand for her bag.

"Oh, thank you," Sarah sighed, giving up her precious case with visible relief, and rubbing her shoulder. Lugging that suitcase around aggravated an injury
she received on her long cross-country journey.

"Would your hotel happen to have a nurse or a doctor on the premises?" Sarah inquired.

"Nathan, I mean, our doctor's outta town right now, Miss. But he and the others will be back soon. Want me to send him over?"

"Yes, please, but it's not an emergency," Sarah said but had no chance to say much more as a woman was calling to Buck.

"Buck,? Buck Wilmington!" The lady rushed up. "Buck, I asked you to keep an eye out for our new school teacher. And who's this young lady you brought with you? Never mind, you get back and wait for the teacher."

"Why, I brung you the new school teacher, Mary," Buck said brightly, tipping his hat to her.

The woman called Mary gaped at Sarah for a few seconds before recovering herself. "Forgive me, but ... you're Miss ... Miss Sarah Eliza Collins?"

"Yes Ma'am. I'm Sarah Eliza Collins."

"Well, I ... I ..." the woman swallowed and cleared her throat recovering herself. "I welcome you to Four Corners, Miss Collins. I thought you were from Virginia?"

Buck grinned. "C'mon, do you're Southern bell impression for Mary, Miss," he urged.

Sarah blushed.

"Alright, Buck, behave yourself in front of our Miss Collins. We want her to get a good impression of us."

"Too late for that, Mary," Buck said darkly. "She's already met the Clancy boys."

Mary gasped and put a hand on Sarah's slender shoulder, and the girl winced in pain.

"Oh no! Not those three! Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

"No Ma'am, I'm fine, thanks to Mr. Wilmington," Sarah said with a grateful nod at Buck, wishing Mary would move that hand. "I had some, misadventures, on my way out here, Ma'am." Sarah did not elaborate on the fact that the men hired to protect the first coach she traveled in turned out to be lazy useless cowards who ran away at the first sight of trouble, and she and the other passengers were forced to defend themselves.

"Well, that's fine." Sarah winced again as Mary leaned toward her. "You watch out for Buck here, Miss Collins. He's a good boy, but he likes the young ladies, a little too well sometimes," she told Sarah in a stage whisper, which Buck could obviously hear.

Sarah expected the man to be indignant, but he only grinned at Mary.

"Buck, bring her bag, and I'll get Miss Collins settled in to her room. Mary ushered Sarah forward. "We've

We saved one of the best rooms for you, Miss Collins."

Anything as long as she removes that hand, Sarah thought, fearing she might start to cry from the pain, if the woman did not let go soon.

Mary finally did release her, and soon Sarah found herself tucked into a very comfortable-looking room at the hotel. But on the way, everyone she met gaped at her in the same way that Mary and buck had done. "This is the school teacher?" was a phrase which Sarah grew tired of hearing repeatedly, and the young woman wondered if she would really fit in here after all. If they had expected a dried-up old spinster teacher, Sarah Eliza was not it, and she never would
be.

Chapter 3: A walk in the woods

Abe High Wolf Wheeler had been on his own since he was ten years old. He'd found odd jobs here and there. He'd ridden for the pony express, worked for the railroad and nearly lost his life had it not been for his friend Chow Ping. He'd worked ranches and cattle drives, even spent some time with an old trapper doing some trapping. It was through the old trapper Toussaint Charbonneau, that he had reconnected with his mother's people, the Lakota Sioux. Charbonneau was a known trader with the tribe, and they trusted him. Abe stayed with the Sioux for a year taking in all he could learn, before he felt the need to find his way once again in the white world. He wasn't one to settle in one place for too long, always searching, for what he didn't know, so he just kept drifting, he figured he'd find it someday, but for now, he'd take one day at a time. Now he found himself working at a ranch for a man named Guy Royal. He was more the stable boy than anything else, but he liked taking care of the horses, some said he had a way with them. He didn't mind it, the job didn't pay much but he had a roof over his head, food to eat, and a day off once in a while. Like today. While some of the other hands had gone into town, he preferred the solitude of the woods. Not that he was against kicking it up in town once in a while, He'd done his fare share. But today was different, he'd felt the need for privacy and seclusion, to commune with the spirits you might say. Finding a nice little spot close to a clear running spring, he set his horse to graze while he sat down next to a tree and leaned back against it, enjoying the quiet sounds that nature provided.

+ + + + + + +

It was a beautiful fall day and unusually warm for the time of year as Cheyenne made her way from her room behind the church to the livery. While Josiah had decided breakfast at the saloon suited him. Cheyenne, still feeling a bit uneasy in a town full of white strangers, had opted to go out for a ride.

After reaching the livery and finding Wind in his stall, she went over to the horse and held out her hand. In it was a ripe red apple. The paint gobbled the sweet fruit up without hesitation.

It had only been a few days since she had arrived here in this town with Josiah, still she wondered why her grandfather had sent her so far away, especially to a place full of wasicu. (White people)

He had told her he wanted to keep her safe, as war had come to the Sioux nation and more and more villages were being destroyed by the white soldiers and forced to the reservations. Since Cheyenne was of mixed blood, he felt she would be safer in the white world with Josiah. Yet Cheyenne could not fully understand why, as far as she was concerned, she was Lakota and Lakota alone. She'd lived with them since the death of her parents when she was just a little girl, though she loved her Godfather very much, living here would be difficult. She was not sure she was ready for the change.

Cheyenne reached over and took Winds halter from where it hung next to his stall and easily bridled her horse then led him from the stall and out into the open. Taking hold of his mane she swung up onto his back and road out of town.

+ + + + + + +

Josiah pushed the saloon doors open and walked in, he glanced around until he saw familiar faces sitting at one of the tables across the room and made his way over to them, pulling out one of the chairs he sat down and slid his hat so that it hung on his back. "Mornin boys."

"Mornin Josiah." Buck grinned.

"Josiah." Chris nodded his greeting.

"How is Cheyenne settling in?" Nathan asked before picking up a strip of bacon from his plate.

"It's a work in progress." Josiah answered as the bartender stepped up.

"Breakfast Josiah?" he asked. The preacher nodded.

"So, when do we get to meet this goddaughter of yours?" Buck asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"You? probably never." Josiah quipped.

Buck looked offended.

"She's having a rough time getting use to things here." Josiah went on. "She went out for a ride this morning."

"Alone?" Nathan looked concerned. "You sure she'll be alright, out there alone?"

Josiah gave a short nod and sat back in his chair, as the bartender brought his breakfast over, sitting the plate down on the table in front of him.

"She'll be alright, she's used to doing things on her own. I don't think I could keep her cooped up if I tried."

"Still, a woman out there alone just doesn't seem right." Buck mused. "A lot of scoundrels out there just waiting to pounce."

Josiah took a fork full of food thinking thoughtfully to himself, wondering if maybe Buck was right.

+ + + + + + +

Cheyenne set Winds reins over his neck and whistled a short musical whistle. The Paint followed along behind her without hesitation. Wind had been a gift from her grandfather, she had raised the black and white paint from a colt and trained him herself, with a bit of help from her brothers. The horse was more than just a mode of transportation. He was her pet, her friend, and her confidant. The two had an uncommon bond.

Cheyenne walked along the edge of the prairie searching for sweet grass, sage and any other herbs or roots she thought may be useful. Her wonderings throughout the morning taking her from the prairie and farther into the forest of trees and brush. The sun gleaming down in bright colored rays through the tall aspens reminded her of home. She reveled in the solitude and the sounds of nature giving her solace from the noise and bustle of the town.

Her moccasin feet brushed against the foliage, she paid no mind to the sound of crunching leaves and sticks beneath them, until, she stepped, and a loud metal clank broke through the stillness, she felt a biting pain shoot into her foot, causing her to scream out in agony and fall to the ground dropping her medicine bag. She looked down to where the steel jaws had closed in on her foot just above the ankle. Blood began to stain her moccasins. Metal teeth held tight keeping her from moving less she cause herself even more anguish than she felt already. Still, she braved the pain and fought to release herself from the metal jaws to no avail. Tears spilled from her eyes; she screamed out as loud as her voice would carry even though she knew there was no one to hear her. Her ever-faithful companion Wind stood helplessly nearby agitated he pranced and whinnied as if calling for help. Cheyanne tried again to remove the trap that held her captive, unable to stand the pain any longer she leaned back against the white aspen tree and tried not to move, praying Josiah would find her and soon. Her foot throbbed and the blood continued to flow as she did her best to stay motionless so as not to cause herself more discomfort. She sat with her head against the tree and closed her eyes against the suffering praying for help. Wind nickered, then she heard it, another horse and footsteps rustled in the leaves. Her tear-stained eyes popped open mirroring the fear that consumed her.

She tried to back away from the stranger as he came closer but with every move pain shot from her torn flesh.

"Now just hold on there girl, I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm here ta help." Came a deep raspy slightly southern drawl.

Cheyenne eyed him cautiously, her breaths coming labored and heavy, partly from the pain in her leg partly from her distrust of the man trying to help her. She had seen him before; he had spoken to her in town and Josiah had warned her against him. He was dressed in tan trousers, a light-colored shirt, suspenders, and a dark brown coat. His brown hat had a round top, beaded hat band and the brim encircled it, his long dark hair hung in two braids beneath it. He smiled with a flirtatious wink trying to sooth her fears, give her courage, and keep her calm.

"Just take it easy and I'll have you out a here in two shakes,"

Cheyenne listened carefully to his words; She was still trying to master her English. She'd spoken it very little during her life in the Sioux village. Using it only when Josiah would visit. Her understanding of the language had been getting better with practice, but she was still far from proficient. French had been much more familiar to her, her father spoke it often when he was alive, and her brothers kept it flourishing. Her mother had spoken Lakota more times than not, even though she too spoke English fluently. But since her parents' deaths and being raised in the Lakota village by her grandparents since she was Nine, Lakota had become Cheyenne's foremost vocabulary.

The stranger examined the trap trying to assess how badly she was caught. Finally looking up at her sympathetically.

"I'd like to tell ya this ain't gonna hurt, but I can't. its gonna hurt like hell."

Looking around the area close by, he found a stick, picked it up then breaking it in half, he wiped it off the best he could, then handed it to her. "Bite on this."

She didn't have to understand the words to know what he meant. Still wary, Cheyenne conceded and took the twig from him. She knew he was right, if the pain she felt when the trap closed in on her was any indication, it was bound to be just as bad coming out, if not worse. The stick would keep her from biting her tongue. Positioning the stick in her mouth she watched and waited nervously.

"Don't look at this." He lifted her chin to face him, keeping her attention from her wounded foot. Then using his two fingers he pointed toward his eyes. "Look at me." The young man insisted.

Cheyenne looked up at him.

"That's it." he looked at the trap once more and positioned his hands. Using his foot, he centered it near the release.

Cheyenne watched him and winced even though he had not touched the metal jaws yet.

"Hey hey, Look at me. Not that."

Again, Cheyenne looked up at him, her delicate features masked in dread.

"That a girl." he said speaking softly with a smile that lit up his face.

"Did I ever tell you that you have the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen." He told her in Lakota.

As she was momentarily distracted by the compliment with one fluid motion, he stepped on the trap release and jerked open the jaws liberating Cheyenne's foot. Cheyenne did her best not to scream but it was no use, she bit down hard on the stick then cried out, closing her eyes against the pain, as she felt the teeth of the trap tear out of her ankle.

Once her foot was free, the man ripped the trap out of the ground and tossed it angrily aside before he took closer inspection of Cheyenne's wound.

Carefully removing her moccasin from her injured leg. Tears ran down her cheeks from the pain the movement caused.

"The names Abe High Wolf. What's yours?" he asked nonchalantly as he stood up and went over to his horse, taking his extra shirt from his saddle bag and tearing it to make a bandage.

"Cheyenne." she responded, gritting her teeth against the pain, as Abe again knelt in front of her and began tending to her wound.

Abe smiled. "Talks Different eh, must be cuz of that French accent you got."

"You speak Lakota." Cheyenne stated more than asked foregoing trying to answer him in English, instead speaking in her own language.

"Yup, my mother was Lakota." He answered in the same dialect.

"My mother was also Lakota." She tried to smile but the pain from her wound was making it hard.

Abe tightened the makeshift bandage around the wound, the pain it caused making Cheyenne nearly cry out, instead she muffled the sound, still a small whimper took its place.

"Sorry, it's got to be tight to keep it from bleedin to much, wounds bad, I gotta get you back to town. I don't think you can ride so come on." He reached out for her.

Cheyanne pressed her back up against the tree. "I can ride." She argued.

Abe smiled. "Uh huh, for how long? Look, I'm not going to hurt you, and you can't walk on that foot, so come on and let's get you back to town."

He held his arms out for her. After a moment of hesitation Cheyenne finally took hold of his hands and let him pull her to her feet. Once he had her standing on one-foot, Abe swept her up in his arms and carried her to his horse, he set her on his mount sideways trying to keep her foot from dangling any more than necessary, then swung up behind her. "We'll go easy so as not to juggle your ankle too much."

Cheyenne whistled her musical whistle and Wind followed behind them as they made their way back to town.

+ + + + + + +

It was almost noon when Josiah walked out of the saloon and headed back toward the church. Horses coming into town caught his attention. As they came closer, he could see it was Cheyenne, cradled in front of the rider. He didn't have to wait to find out what happened before he shouted out her name and rushed toward them.

Weak and pale from loss of blood and the excruciating pain from her injury, Cheyenne was nearly unconscious.

"Cheyenne!" Josiah called to her as he ran up to them.

Abe stopped his horse in front of the church as Josiah reached them.

"What happened?" He growled.

"She got her foot caught in a wolf trap." Abe explained as he helped to hand Cheyenne down to the waiting Josiah who took her in his arms.

"Ride down to the saloon, ask for Nathan Jackson and send him to the church and tell him to hurry!" a distraught Josiah ordered sternly as he carried Cheyenne up the stairs, kicking the door to the church open he rushed her inside.

*****an hour later*****

Nathan finished wrapping Cheyenne's foot and ankle in clean bandages as she slept. The pain medication he'd given her had mercifully sedated her as he took care of the painful wounds.

"She'll be able to walk wont she Nathan?" Josiah asked worriedly.

"She's lucky she didn't lose her foot." The healer told him as he went over to the basin and washed his hands. "That young man out there probably saved her from it."

Josiah looked over at the door. "Guess I owe him a debt a thanks."

Nathan nodded in agreement. "She'll need to stay off that foot a few days, you might want to see if Mrs. Travis can find a woman to help her out until she's able to walk."

Josiah looked over at his sleeping goddaughter, "She be alright while I see to it?"

Nathan smiled. "She'll sleep for a while yet. Go on I'll sit with her."

Josiah affectionately smoothed the sleeping girl's hair before he turned and left.

As he opened the door from Cheyenne's living area and stepped into the church pulpit, a lone figure sat in one of the front pew's, his hat in his hands. He looked up when he saw Josiah.

Josiah walked over to him. "I want to Thank You, for helping my Goddaughter, Nathan says you might very well have saved her foot."

The young man stood. "Wasn't anything anyone else wouldn't have done, she gonna be alright?"

"Soon as her foot and ankle heal up I imagine she'll be out riding again."

"Good, glad to hear it." The young man half smiled as he gave Josiah a nod and turned to leave.

"What's your name boy."

Abe hesitated before he turned back to face him. "Abraham Wheeler, or Abe High Wolf. Wheeler was my pa's name, don't use it much anymore."

"High Wolf?" Josiah asked stepping off the podium. "Indian huh?"

"On my mother's side." Abe answered somewhat guardedly.

"And your pa?"

Abe looked at the preacher cautiously. "Dead." he answered simply then turned again and walked to the front doors opening them he left without another word.

Josiah watched the boy leave, still not completely trusting him. Then headed out himself soon after.

+ + + + + + +

A few minutes later found Josiah at Mary Travis's Newspaper. Mary looked up from her desk as the door to the clarion opened.

"Morning Mary." Josiah greeted her as he removed his hat.

"Good morning, Josiah, is there something I can help you with?"

"As a matter a fact ma'm there is, you see my god daughter, Cheyenne, was out wonderin this mornin and stepped into a wolf trap."

"I'm sorry to hear that, is she alright?"

"Well yes ma'am, Nathan's with her. But he says she's gonna be off her feet for a few days and I was wondering if you might know of a woman who'd be able to help her out just until she gets back on her feet."

Mary thought for a moment then looked up at him "You know, as a matter a fact I may have just the very woman you are looking for. Her name is Sarah Collins, She's the new school Teacher, and she's only been in town a few days. I'm told the school house behind Potters store is badly in need of repair. Perhaps you can help her out with that, and she, in turn, could help out with your goddaughter, that is if you were willing?

"She don't by any chance speak Lakota or French maybe? Cheyenne's still rusty with her English."

Mary smiled, "I seriously doubt she would speak any Indian dialect. But as I recall in her credentials mentioned she taught French. I think she would be the perfect candidate."

"Do you think she would do it?"

I'm sure she wouldn't mind at all, she's a very nice girl. She's staying over at the hotel. If you like, I'll get in touch with her and see if she's available?"

"Yes Ma'am that would sure take a load off my mind."

Mary smiled and stood "I'll go see her right now, when would you like her to start?"

"The sooner the better" Josiah smiled "Just send her over to the church when she's ready, Thank You Mary."

"Of corse Josiah, I'm happy to help" With that Mary walked over and took her wrap from the hook and followed Josiah out.

While Josiah made his way back to the church Mary started toward the Hotel.

Chapter 4

(Chapter by LindaBlue and tate886)

Stagecoaches are notoriously uncomfortable modes of transportation, and it felt so good to finally rest in her own comfortable room, to have a real bed, a quick wash, and the time and privacy to brush the dirt and dust of her cross-country journey out of her hair. But the brushing was more painful than she expected, and re-braiding it made her shoulder throb even more. She gave up on the braiding and tied it back in a simple horse tail down her back, then to keep her mind off the pain, the new schoolteacher of Four Corners decided to take a walk around her new town, see the places, meet more of the people, find a bite to eat, and maybe get a good look at where she would be expected to teach.

The memory of her three assailants—what had Mr. Wilmington called them, the Clancy boys—troubled Sarah, and the fact she had not received a definite answer about the state of the law troubled her even more, but the young woman figured that she had better get used to that sort of thing.

She had not walked far and spoken with very many people before she began hearing the stories of 'the Seven', the group of which Mr. Wilmington was a part. Apparently these seven men were the law in Four Corners—no Constables, no deputy constables, only these men. It seemed like an odd arrangement to Sarah, but everything looked, felt, and sounded strange to the young woman, and besides, who was she to judge, being so new in town and to the ways of these folk.

Most people were friendly enough, though Sarah got tired of hearing the same old phrase, spoken in varying degrees of astonishment, "You're the new schoolteacher?"

The next day, her first full day in town, Sarah meant to knuckle down and really get started, but she was only partly successful. At least, the startled looks from most of the town's folk are fading, she thought. If she had to listen to one more, 'So, you're the new schoolteacher?' exclamation from one more person, she would go mad, and might forget all the good manners her mother drilled into her. All meant that this Sarah was twice as determined to show these folks that she was not the useless bit of fluff that she appeared to be, and her first task was to make herself look older, more authoritative. Instead of her usual braids, she pulled her hair up into a tight bun, looked at herself in the mirror, and laughed so hard that one of the women from the hotel came running to see what was wrong.

"Do I look as ridiculous as I think I do?" Sarah chortled.

The lady, a stout-looking older woman nodded, her lips pressed tightly together to prevent herself from laughing.

"Oh, I give up." Sarah reached up and took down her bun, letting her hair spill naturally down her back.

"So much nicer," the woman cooed. "With that face, that hair, that figure, and that voice, you'll have no trouble landing a man."

"I didn't come out here to find a man," Sarah objected. "I'm here to teach."

"Well, guess that explains all the books. you need somethin' else, Miss, just holler. You know how to do that."

Some days later, Sarah sat in her room making lists of what needed to be done before she could even start to teach. There was a lot! When she was promised largely a free hand, the girl did not realize that literally meant the school needed building from the ground up. It was a relief when Mary Travis visited with an offer of work, even if it was more of a nursing job, and Sarah was more than willing to make herself useful

Mary told her to go to the church, and offered to come and make the introductions, but Sarah politely refused. Oh, why did it have to be the church, Sarah thought. After her experience at home with the preacher who believed all girls were his to do with as he pleased, Sarah was not anxious to visit any churches for a while.

As her steps neared the building, Sarah was annoyed with herself to find her legs dragging. Apparently, she had not put all that nastiness at home behind her as much as she thought.

It isn't going to be him, so buck up, girl! Sarah scolded herself. There's a girl in there who needs a woman's touch, so get a move on!

Still, she hesitated for a few seconds before straightening her back, gathering her courage, and opening the door.

"Hello?" Sarah called, hoping she did not sound as timid as she felt. "Mary Travis sent me. I understand there's a young lady here who needs some tending to?"

+ + + + + + +

Josiah pulled the quilt over Cheyenne as she rested. Then going into the living area, he picked up one of the chairs near the small table and carried it over next to her bed. Sitting down he settled in and watched as she slept peacefully. It had been a mistake to let her go out alone, he knew that now, and he would not let it happen again. His guilt ate at him, he should have been there, the way he should have been there for her all her life. The way he should have been there for her mother. But he couldn't see past his own plights and wanderlust to raise his own daughter. Oh, he'd visited as often as he could, and stayed for weeks at a time. Even so, it wasn't enough, and he chastised himself for it. She still didn't know who he really was, and he wondered how she would take it if he was to tell her now. No, he contemplated, it wasn't the right time, yet he pondered if there would ever be, a right time. Josiah leaned back in the chair lost in his thoughts and ultimately dozed off. That is until he heard Cheyenne stir and softly say his name.

He opened his eyes to see his daughter trying to pull herself up to a sitting position. "Woah now." He said as he got out of his chair and helped her, he adjusted the pillow so she would have a soft place to lean on and helped her to sit back. "How are you feeling?"

"My ankle hurts." She answered with a grimace.

"Nathan left something for the pain, I'll get it."

Cheyenne took hold of her godfather's hand and shook her head no. "My medicine bundle."

Josiah looked about the room, "I don't see it."

The injured girl let out a disappointed sigh. "I must have dropped it when I fell."

"Don't worry, I'll go out and see if I can find it, for now I'll fix you some of Nathans."

Josiah took a tin cup and filled it part way with water from the pitcher on the small table on the other side of the bed then mixed the pain medicine into it, he then handed it to Cheyenne.

She shook her head. "No, it makes me want to sleep."

"It's better than sitting there in pain, and besides, the more rest you get the faster that wound will heal. Now drink."

With a hesitant nod Cheyenne took the cup and did as Josiah insisted sporting a sour look on her face. "My medicine tastes better." she complained before handing the empty cup back to Josiah. Taking it from her he then sat on the side of the bed, A look of regret crossing his rugged features. "I'm sorry Annie, I should never have let you go out alone."

The girl gently took his hand, "There is nothing for you to be sorry about, only the man who left the trap is to blame. I should have watched more closely where I was walking."

Before Josiah could say anything more, He heard a woman's voice from inside the church call out.

"You rest, I'll see who that is, I asked Mary to find a woman to help you for a few days until you're able to walk. That may be her."

"Josiah!" Cheyenne protested. "I can take care of myself."

The preacher grinned at her independence. "I know you can." He soothed. "It's only until you get back on your feet, Nathan said you need to stay off that foot for at least a weak, maybe more. So, Be nice." He compelled her. Then, giving her a playful wink and a small grin, he made his way out into the church. He crossed the distance from Cheyenne's door to the edge of the pulpit and stepped down.

"Afternoon Ma'am, can I help you?

Sarah looked up at the man and smiled. "I am looking for the preacher. Are you Mr. Sanchez? My name is Sarah Collins. Mary Travis sent me. She says you need some help tending to a young lady. And I need something to do until I get the school back on its feet."

"And," she added, "Mary also says that you might help me get the school house repaired?" She smiled. "Folks take on multiple jobs out here, I suppose."

She waited, guessing he would want to interview her a bit.

"Yup, Josiah Sanchez ma'am, please to meet you." He held out a friendly hand as he reached her. "And it's my goddaughter who needs the help. She stepped on a wolf trap this morning; she won't be able to stand on her foot for several days. I asked Mary to send someone over to help her out for a while. Thank you for coming, and as far as repairs on the school, I'd be happy to help." He smiled. "Cheyenne's English is still a bit rusty, but she's working on it. I know you probably don't speak her Language, but I'm told you speak French?" he asked hopefully. "My goddaughter speaks fluent French."

Surprising herself by relaxing just a little in this strange man's presence, Sarah took the offered hand and smiled up at him. "Cheyenne, that's such a lovely name. Yes, Sir, I am quite fluent in French. And did you say she stepped in a trap?" Sarah winced a little in sympathy. "Good lord! It's a miracle she didn't lose her foot. I was thinking of going riding sometime. Is the wilderness so very dangerous around here?"

"Yes ma'am, she nearly did just that. Going out alone can be. dangerous." Josiah answered. "Especially for women, I don't recommend it. I should never have let Cheyenne go." He said regrettably. "But She's used to being in the woods by herself. She grew up there. You see she's half Lakota. She's lived with her grandparents since she was nine. Her grandfather is the chief in her village. Being the youngest you might say she's a bit spoiled." He looked back toward the door behind the pulpit, then back to Sarah. "Come along, I'll introduce you." He held his hand out toward the door leading to his goddaughter's room.

"Spoiled, is she?" Sarah grinned. "Well, it will be just like taking care of some of my younger sisters. I will heed your advice, Sir. Suppose I'll have to make some friends to go riding with then. But you mustn't blame yourself, either." Sarah said quietly, trying to ease the poor man's mind. "Some girls will never take kindly to being coddled, Mr. Sanchez."

Josiah raised an eyebrow with a slight tilt of his head. "Yes Ma'am." He agreed. "Shall we?" he motioned again toward Cheyenne's room. Sarah smiled and followed as he led her into the room. She stood at the doorway taking note of her surroundings.

Cheyenne's room was small, one main room with a small eating table in the middle of it, an ice box against the far wall. A small counter next to it separating the ice box from the small wood burning stove that served as both a place to cook and warming the room as well. Off to the side was Cheyenne's sleeping area, a small space separated by a hanging curtain that looked more like a blanket. Inside the space was a single bed made of wood, the mattress was soft. Josiah had bought it especially for Cheyenne. Next to the bed a small table with a pitcher and basin. On the other side of the bed was a small bureau.

Back out in the main area were two doors. One door led to the outside behind the church. The other door straight across from it, where Sarah stood now, led into the church at the far end of the pulpit. Cheyenne could be seen sitting up in her bed as they walked in. Josiah led the way over to her.

The young Lakota girl looked over at the strange woman who stood at Josiahs side sizing her up. Before she looked up at her godfather and spoke to him in Lakota. Josiah's eyes narrowed reprimanding her, and in the same language he cautioned her to mind her manors.

"Cheyenne this is Miss Sarah Collins, she doesn't understand Lakota, but she does speak French."

Again, Cheyenne turned to the woman this time with a hint of a smile. "Bonjour."

The girl looked in far better shape than Sarah expected, except for her poor foot.

She was a lovely creature, Sarah thought, and her Indian language was lovely, too, even if Sarah had no hope of understanding it.

"What did she say?" Sarah asked, figuring it must be nothing too polite the way Mr. Sanchez had reprimanded her. I bet she said, get this useless frilly bit of blonde fluff out of my room, Godfather.?

"Uh, what did she say?" he stumbled innocently. "Oh, just that she wasn't sure she needed anything right now" He glanced back at his goddaughter.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Cheyenne," she smiled back at her temporary charge. She then went on to introduce herself and ask the girl how she was feeling, and what she, Sarah, might do to help her?

"I am in no need thank you." The girl replied still speaking in French. A language she knew Josiah was a little rusty at and she grinned at him. Then turned back to Sarah. "But you can hand me my beading over there." She pointed to the small basket sitting on the floor next to the bureau.

Josiah spoke again in Lakota warning Cheyenne to behave then looked back to Sarah. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted." He nodded to Sarah and glanced again to his goddaughter. "I'll get you both something to eat." With that He turned and started for the door.

"Thank you, Sir," Sarah said to Josiah. "I'm sure Miss Cheyenne and I are going to get along fine."

Sarah immediately retrieved the girl's bead work and brought it to her. Then, she pulled up a chair and sat. "Please do not worry, Mademoiselle. I will not trouble you for long, jus till you are up and about. From the look of you, that should not take long. your friend, Mr. Sanchez, does he speak French?" Sarah asked, remembering to use the language. She caught that grin the girl gave to her godfather and suspected the answer was no, or perhaps not much. Meanwhile, she admired the lovely work the girl was doing, and wished out loud that she was so skilled.

Cheyenne giggled a little when Sarah asked if Josiah spoke French. Until she called her Mademoiselle. She looked up at the schoolteacher with a frown. "My name is Cheyenne."

Sarah smiled and said in French, "Oui, Cheyenne. Mademoiselle is simply a title for unmarried women."

"I know what it means, I do not like it, you will call me by name."

Sarah gave an accepting nod. "as you wish Mad…Cheyenne."

"As for Josiah, he is my Godfather, he understands more French than he speaks." She chuckled. "He is not very good at it."

Sarah could not help but smile. "I see. Mr. Sanchez, your Godfather, he worries much about you," Sarah answered the girl. "My father treats me the same way. So how do you like Four Corners, Cheyenne? I am new to this town as well."

"He worries to Much I think." She answered the teacher not taking her eyes from her beading. The town?" She shrugged. "It is, different, too many wasicu. White Men she translated in French." A sadness emanated from her eyes. "I miss my people, my brothers, and my grandfather. This place is.." She struggled for the words even in her French-Canadian dialect. "Smothering."

"The best men, they always worry too much."

The look in the girl's eyes broke Sarah's tender heart. Was her tribe still alive? And she isn't used to being around so many white people. Is that why she won't look at me? Sarah figured this smothered Indian Princess must have an interesting story, but since they were still practically strangers, and Sarah very much an unwanted presence in the girl's life, asking about any of that would be rude.

"I am sorry we did not meet under better circumstances, Cheyenne. I am sorry that I must be a part of your smothering," Sarah apologized sincerely. "I promise I will try and stay out of your way as much as possible, but I do want to help you. So, whatever you need, I am here to serve." Sarah grinned. "And if you need me to back off and be silent, I can do that too," she smiled softly.

Cheyenne looked over at the girl. "Josiah is a good man, he is much like a second father, He means a great deal to me. It is just that the white world is so unlike what I have known, Josiah says I will get used to it, but…" She shrugged and went back to her beading. "And you are not my slave, you may come and go as you wish. She added as she continued to work.

While the girls conversed in Cheyenne's room, Josiah made his way from the church to the hotel and only restaurant in town.

"Josiah!" a voice from behind made him stop and turn to see who it was that'd called out to him.

Nathan quickened his steps to catch up.

"Nathan." Josiah greeted him. "Something the matter?"

Nathan smiled "No, was just wondering how your god daughter was doin?"

"Well, she's complaining." The preacher half grinned.

Nathan chuckled. "Suppose that's a good sign."

Josiah let a grin escape as well. "I suppose. I was just heading to the hotel to bring her and Mis Collins something to eat."

"Miss Collins?" The healer asked curiously.

Josiah rested his hands on his gun belt with a short nod. "She's the woman Mary sent over to help Cheyenne while she's laid up. Guess she's the new schoolteacher.

"That's good, spose Cheyenne'll take kindly to having a woman to talk to."

"Let's hope so." The preacher sighed.

"Still having a rough time getting used to things here is she?"

Josiah nodded. "That she is."

"Well." Nathan put a comforting hand on his friends shoulder. "Give her time. She's only been here little over a week."

"I suppose you're right."

"You worry to much." Nathan chuckled. "Got time for a beer before you head back?"

Josiah looked over his shoulder toward the church then turned back to Nathan. "Maybe so, I could use a beer."

Nathan grinned. "I'll just bet you could."

The End
Continues in Continuing Tales from Four Corners