Page 19 of Shoshone Sun (Native Sun #3)

- Paul Jacobs Homestead, Spring 1867

Ninety miles west of Fort Laramie –

The canoes sliced through the churning waters with steady determination, the rhythm of the paddles a small but constant comfort amid the chaos around them. As Flying Arrow and Great Bear guided the boats through the swollen waters, Peter clutched the sides of the canoe. The floodwaters had carried away everything he had worked for—his cabin, his barn, the land he had once thought of as home.

Susan sat across from her husband as Petey nestled against her chest, her face pale but firm. The child’s small hands gripped her dress, not understanding that the storm that had taken their home. Jane, in the other canoe, appeared lost in her thoughts. She had not taken her eyes off Flying Arrow, who kept his gaze fixed ahead, his face unwavering.

Peter had always prided himself on his ability to handle hardship, but this? This was different. He could feel the weight of the loss pressing down on him like the flood itself. The land they had fought to cultivate, the memories they had built in that little cabin—it was all gone, swept away in the same flood that had nearly claimed their lives.

His mind kept racing, trying to make sense of it all, but the more he thought, the more hopeless it seemed. The world had shifted beneath him, and there was no going back. For all his skill and determination, he couldn’t control the river. He couldn’t stop the storm.

“Peter.” Susan’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts, her eyes searching his face. “We’ll find a way. We have to.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. I just … don’t know where to begin.”

“Start with being grateful we’re alive,” she said quietly, her hand resting on his. “We’re together. And that’s more than many have.”

Peter met her gaze, his chest tight with emotion. She was right, of course. They were alive, and that was something. But as they floated farther away from the ruins of their home, a sense of loss greater than Peter had never known crept in.

Flying Arrow and Great Bear steered the canoes toward the distant edge of the floodwaters, where the land was higher, and the waters no longer held territory. The two men were silent but confident in their movements, as though the flood had never been a threat to them. To Peter, they seemed like men of the earth itself—part of the land in a way he couldn’t truly understand.

As they reached solid ground, Peter and his family clambered out of the canoes, grateful for the dry land beneath their feet. Four horses stood tethered nearby, their dark, sleek forms blending into the landscape. The horses looked sturdy, their hooves rooted in the earth as if to defy the flood’s chaos.

“We ride now,” Flying Arrow said, his voice low but strong. He gestured to the horses. “We go to your kin.”

Peter hesitated for a moment. His heart ached for the land he had lost, for the place he had hoped to call home forever. But there was little choice now. They had no other direction but forward.

Susan gathered Petey in her arms, and Peter helped her onto one of the horses. Then he mounted the other. Flying Arrow guided Spirit Runner toward Jane. He didn’t ask, didn’t explain. He simply helped her mount behind him, as they had done so often in the past. There was a quiet understanding between them that spoke volumes. Great Bear mounted the remaining horse.

The journey was quiet at first as they proceeded along the edge of the flood line. The flood’s aftermath was eerily still, the waters finally now receding, but leaving behind a desolate wasteland of debris and mud. The trees on the edge of the land stood like sentinels, their branches drooping with the weight of the water that had risen so high. For a long while, none of them spoke, each of them lost in their thoughts as they rode past the remnants of the flood’s fury.

The landscape gradually changed as they traveled. The land rose higher, the flood’s reach growing more distant. The brown earth gave way to grasslands and the occasional cluster of wildflowers, spring blooming in spite of the devastation.

Peter’s mind wandered as they traveled, the rhythm of the horses’ hooves beneath him lulling him into a kind of numbness. What would he do now? Start again, somewhere else? It seemed impossible, yet he knew he had no choice.

When they finally reached Paul’s homestead, Peter felt a rush of emotions—relief, gratitude, and exhaustion. The sight of his uncle’s cabin was like a beacon in the distance, its sturdy walls untouched by the flood’s fury. Paul and his wife, Mary, were standing at the door, their faces lit with a mixture of joy and disbelief.

“Peter! Susan! Jane!” Paul’s voice rang out across the distance, and he rushed forward, his arms wide as if to gather them all into a hug. “Thank God! We were so worried when we the storm went on and on! But here you are, unharmed.”

Tears sprang to Peter’s eyes, and he clung to his uncle for a moment, allowing himself to feel the relief of being safe. “We barely made it out, Uncle Paul,” he said, his voice tight. “The water took the barn, our crops, our cabin. We’d have drowned if Flying Arrow and his brother hadn’t rescued us.”

Mary came forward, embracing Susan and Jane with warmth. “You’re safe now. That’s all that matters,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Peter stepped back, his hand resting on Susan’s shoulder as he surveyed the scene. It was good to be with family again, to know that they weren’t alone. But the weight of the past few days still hung heavy, the memory of the flood’s destruction too fresh.

Flying Arrow and Great Bear approached, the two brothers leading their horses with quiet dignity. Paul and Mary turned to them and Paul smiled and extended his hand. “It’s good to see you again, my friend. I’m happy to see how well you have healed!”

Flying Arrow took his hand. “Good to see you as well. This is my brother, Great Bear. I am back living in my village, but when I heard word of the fierce storm in this direction, I needed to make certain everything was all right. I’m so glad I came.”

“Flying Arrow, Great Bear,” Paul said. “We’ll be forever grateful to you both for bringing our family to safety.”

Flying Arrow inclined his head, his deep voice rumbling as he spoke. “The water came swiftly. But we saw them in need, and we did what was needed. As you all did for me when I was wounded.”

Mary stepped forward as well, her voice soft but sincere. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know what they would have done without you. Likely perished.”

Peter watched the exchange, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. It was then that he realized how much more than just a rescue this had been. The brothers had done more than save their lives; they had given them hope when there had seemed to be none.

After the greetings, Flying Arrow turned to Peter, his dark eyes searching Peter’s face. “You will stay here for a time,” he said. “Rest. Then we will help you find new land. Higher ground. A place to begin again.”

Peter felt his chest tighten at the thought. The idea of starting from scratch—again—was unnerving. But Flying Arrow’s words had a quiet confidence to them. It wasn’t a matter of if Peter could rebuild; it was a matter of when .

Peter took a deep breath. The world had been turned upside down. But with his family, with Flying Arrow and Great Bear at his side, maybe—just maybe—he could build something new from the ruins of the old.

“We’ll rebuild,” Peter said softly, his voice steady.

Flying Arrow nodded. “Yes. We will.”

And in that moment, Peter found the strength to believe it.

The storm had passed, leaving Paul’s homestead drenched and muddied, but standing strong against the forces of nature. Jane stood by the window, gazing out at the sky. The days that followed their rescue had been long and weary, but there was peace in knowing that it was all behind them now.

She had been so scared—scared for her family, for little Petey, and yes, for herself. She’d never forget the frantic moments when Flying Arrow and Great Bear had arrived, their warriors’ faces determined as they pulled everyone from the rising flood. But after the storm, after the rescue, they had disappeared just as quickly as they came, returning to their village to get more help. Flying Arrow had saved them, but then left abruptly. She had barely had the chance to thank him, never mind have a meaningful conversation with him.

Then, just as the sun was sinking behind the distant hills one evening, Jane heard the sound of hooves—a steady, rhythmic beat against the earth. Her heart skipped in her chest, and before she knew what she was doing, she had crossed the room and thrown open the door.

And there he was: Flying Arrow.

His presence was as commanding as ever, his tall frame silhouetted against the fading light, sitting tall and proud upon his horse. As their eyes met, there was no hesitation, no distance between them. For a moment, neither of them moved. The world seemed to pause, as if allowing them both a chance to breathe in the truth of the moment. He had come back. He was here, standing in front of her once more.

“Jane,” his voice, low and steady, reached her ears, and she could see the weight of the journey in his eyes, the exhaustion mixed with something else—something she could not quite name.

She didn’t say anything at first. Her chest tightened, the flood of emotions surging in her throat. She didn’t know how to express the gratitude she felt, the overwhelming relief that swept through her. She had feared this moment would never come again.

And then, before she even realized what she was doing, she was moving toward him, her feet carrying her faster than her mind could catch up. Flying Arrow dismounted swiftly, and she found herself wrapped in his arms, the warmth of his body grounding her, steadying her heart.

“I was so afraid I had lost you again,” she whispered into his chest, her voice thick with emotion. She could feel the thrum of his heartbeat against her cheek, steady and strong.

His arms tightened around her, as if he, too, was trying to hold onto the moment, trying to make it last. “I’m here, Jane,” he said, his voice low, almost as though he needed to convince himself of the truth as much as her. “I’m not going anywhere. On their way about an hour behind me are my brother five other braves from our tribe. We will build your new homestead as quickly as possible!”

Her hands found their way to his chest, fingers splayed wide, as if she could imprint the reality of his presence into her soul. She wanted to say so much—how she had missed him, how she had thought of him every single day since he left. But the words didn’t come. She didn’t need to say them. He already knew, didn’t he?

Flying Arrow pulled back just enough to look at her, his hand brushing the stray hair from her face. “You’ve been through so much, Jane,” he said, his brow furrowing with concern. “Are you all right? Is your family well?”

She nodded, forcing a small smile, though her heart was still racing. “We’re all safe, thanks to you. We—” She paused, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of her gratitude. “You saved us, Flying Arrow. I don’t know how to thank you for that.”

“You don’t need to,” he said simply, his expression softening. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

She nodded, feeling a tear slip down her cheek, despite her best efforts not to cry. She was so glad to see him. So glad that he was standing here with her once more.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was comfortable, a shared understanding, a wordless connection that had always existed between them. It felt like everything was as it should be.

But Jane couldn’t bring herself to tell him everything—not yet. Not here, in this moment that still felt too fragile, too new. She wanted to be with him again, to hold onto the love that had blossomed between them, but the weight of her secret—of the life growing inside her—kept her silent.

Instead, she looked up at him, her eyes searching his, a question lingering in her gaze. “You’re staying?” she asked softly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Flying Arrow smiled, his eyes softening with something that felt like hope. “I’m staying. I’ve come back to you, Jane. I will never leave you again. Not now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest, a rush of emotions she could barely contain. The relief, the joy, the love, all mixing in a wave of warmth. She wanted to tell him everything—tell him about the tiny new life they had created—but for now, she just wanted to stay in this moment, to savor the fact that he was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

She nodded, her throat tight, unable to say the words, but somehow knowing that he understood.

As the sun sank lower, casting long shadows across the homestead, Jane found herself wrapped in Flying Arrow’s arms once more, the world around them fading into the background. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe that everything could be right again.