The Protectors

By Janette Owens and Linda J Owens

Shortly after the Beginning the Creator made the protectors and sent them out on a journey to find a heathen that was pure of heart. They searched for centuries. Eventually, they found one and rushed back to the Creator, all excited! We have found a pure of heart heathen! The Creator was pleased. Given a task of protecting the heathen, the protectors defended them from earthly threats. In the process, time itself was skewed to protect one familys progeny and ensure their descendants would be born. Eventually the protectors needed support from the very people they would defend.

Twin sisters Avalene and Avalon, born in conflict, would set the stage for the beginning of jealousy and eventually rage. Literally transforming into a disembodied hate so intense, Avalene knew nothing of time or distance. Her fury drew in Legion and its followers to use her to their own evil ends. Unable to defeat the protectors the first time, Legion placed on the heathens family a scourge that would last four hundred years.

Avalon inherited the protectors, so her descendants would bring about one small girl to break the curse and set her family free from the scourge. Soon the time would come when the protectors and Legion would clash in an epic battle of good and evil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514403693

Janette Owens

Janette Owens Born in Falfurrias, Texas, in 1940, Janette grew up in Houston. Moving with her husband and children to a very rural area to a two-room shack with no running water or power, she learned the true meaning of camping. They eventually turned the shack into a very comfortable, sprawling ranch house. She mostly enjoyed working with cattle and doing anything involving a tractor. Although wheelchair-bound now, she is very active in her community and church. Besides writing, she enjoys quilting, embroidery, and watching old movies. She loves a Yorkie/Maltese “common brown dog” named Opie. She lives in Rockdale, Texas. Linda J. Owens Born in Houston, Texas, in 1958, Linda enjoys reading, woodworking, and musical theater. Previously working in information technology for many years, she used idle time there to write fan fiction. She used to run a restaurant then later a bakery. She still bakes breads and sweets for family, friends, and the community. Linda enjoys league bowling but admits she isn’t very good at it. She is owned by a precious Pomeranian, Baybee. She earned an associate’s degree in web design from the Art Institute but has since learned that not many cows need a website but found a small niche helping to maintain her church website. Linda lives with her mother in Rockdale, Texas.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Janette Owens.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015914323

ISBN:   Hardcover              978-1-5144-0371-6

              Softcover                978-1-5144-0370-9

              eBook                     978-1-5144-0369-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 09/04/2015

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

BOOK 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

BOOK 2

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

BOOK 3

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

BOOK 1

CHAPTER 1

I N THE BEGINNING, the Creator formed the heavens and the earth. Yes, we know. He was pleased, but that’s another s tory.

He took some of the goodness of the earth and formed the Protectors.

Again, He was pleased. They were spirits answering only to the Creator.

He made humans in His own image. Some He called heathens. They were not abandoned; they just didn’t know about the Creator.

The Creator said, I will send the Protectors out among the heathens. They will search for one that is pure of heart.

Centuries passed.

Soon the Protectors flew back to the Creator—very excited! Master! We have found our charge. He is very pure of heart. His name is Jesus.

The Creator smiled. You have searched diligently, a job well done. But Jesus is sent to earth on a special mission of His own. Please return to earth. Surely, there is a heathen there that is pure of heart.

The Protectors circled the earth for hundreds of more years. Searching for a pure-of-heart heathen.

The Protectors spied a young man named Scott. He was but a child himself, but they felt something special about him. They watched Scott grow up and were amazed at his unusual positive outlook. His family was strong. The Protectors came to know from the Creator that they would need to be strong. Their test was yet to come.

R’Lee sat on the patio outside the kitchen. It had been a gloomy fall day, and now the falling night felt like a damp winter was approaching. She shivered a little, pulling her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders. A party for the family was just getting started, or maybe it was winding down—she couldn’t remember. Either way, she decided it didn’t matter. The electricity had been out for about an hour.

Someone walked up to the small table, lighting a lantern. She thought, Great, now monsters will flock to the light. Texas was famous for their critters. Ten of those little skeeters could drain a man dry of blood! A young man sat in another chair beside her.

He said in his tenor singsong voice, Happy birthday, Ms. R’Lee!

Thank you. She enjoyed the little bit of heat the lantern sent out. And hello. Who might you be, young fella?

I’m Jeremy Owens. I’m your great-great-nephew. I think. He looked up toward the sky, counting on his fingers. He had reddish-golden-blond hair and big blue eyes. Might need to add another great in there. Not sure.

R’Lee tried to recollect the name. She said in a somewhat raspy voice, Sorry, son, I’m seventy-five today. Kind of forgetful. I have heard that name before, though. I’m sure of that. She coughed a little to clear her throat.

He reached over to pull the back of the shawl up a little higher. She waved him away. Oh, don’t mind me. It’s just the damp night air.

I’m sure you have heard my name before, Ms. R’Lee. My fifth—again, he looked up toward the sky, mentally counting the generations—grandfather was Jeremy’s brother. His name was Jonathan Owens. He was also Franklin’s brother.

Young Jeremy turned slightly sideways in the narrow white wicker patio chair and leaned toward his aunt. Ms. R’Lee, if you’re not too busy and you’re feeling up to it, I hoped you would tell me about our family. I have heard a little bit about the story all my life. Mostly, they just don’t have much to say. They just lower their heads and mutter about bad spirits and something called the Protectors.

She sat staring at the young man for a full minute, and then tears started filling her pale-blue eyes. Young man, how did you know I was connected to the Protectors?

Ms. R’Lee, our family has always stayed in touch with one another. It’s one thing that we’re taught from the beginning: family is important. Your great-great-grandniece Brandy Dupree Lane was at the last family reunion. She had some papers that listed your name and your mother’s. But we didn’t know where you were. She said that everybody knows about R’Lee and the Protectors. It seems to be a deeply hidden family secret. We didn’t know much about what happened after you were born. And we lost track entirely when your mother left New York. Thanks to the Internet these days, I found you and more family. I’ve been asking questions. They sent me to you.

I believe I was about four, maybe five. I hardly remember the city. But that was a long time ago. R’Lee leaned forward slightly, closer to the lantern. She batted away some tiny moths that were gathering in the soft yellow light.

We know the Protectors followed your father’s bloodline. Always going to the boys. Seems it was usually the second born. So how did you get the Protectors?

Young feller, get us a cup of hot coffee, and I’ll tell you the story. R’Lee put her hands on the little table and pulled her chair closer. As the young man was taking the short step up to the kitchen, she changed her mind. You’d better bring the whole pot.

Early to Mid-1800s

The Protectors found Scott and Alisha Owens. Pioneers in the newly opened-up land called the Americas. Scott was awaiting the birth of his seventh child.

Alisha felt her first labor pains, and twenty minutes later, a man child entered the realm of the Protectors. Jeremy Owens was the seventh son of the seventh son.

The Protectors rushed back to the Creator. Could this child be their charge?

The Creator was pleased. I know of Jeremy. Yes, he will grow into a fine young man. Keep him safe.

Jeremy grew straight and tall, with reddish-golden-blond hair and big blue eyes. He helped with two sisters born later. He was an adventurer. At twelve, he was almost six feet tall. He, his six brothers, and his father were good providers for the family.

With furs for clothes and blankets and meat to be dried, their table was abundant with plenty from the land they called home. There were crops to plant and crops to harvest. Wood to cut for cooking and heat. Bows and arrows to make, always with a song in the air.

Jeremy was blessed with a tenor voice. They sang songs their father brought with him from the old country.

The family was isolated mostly. They traded with their closest neighbors, a Blackfoot Indian tribe.

If there was an overabundance from the crop, they shared with their Indian friends. Chief Bear Claw, a mighty hunter, had a special fondness for the family, especially Jeremy.

When Jeremy was sixteen years old, he was six feet and seven inches tall. A large boy-man. His six brothers were nearly as tall but not quite. His two sisters were beautiful and kindhearted. All had reddish-golden-blond hair with big blue eyes.

Chief Bear Claw had four sons, and all felt jealousy toward Jeremy. Somehow, Jeremy knew. He took caution, a feeling that kept him away from the Indian camp. He wondered often why his Indian brother that he grew up with would turn against him. The more he thought about Charro, the more it puzzled him. He could speak the Blackfoot language and knew their voiceless sign language.

Could they have a grievance against him? He would ask forgiveness, set this wrong to right! Leaving his axe in the log. He turned toward Chief Bear Claw’s camp.

He walked about an hour, a mist filled the air, with rays of sunshine beaming through broken clouds. The forest gave no sounds. Birds hushed their songs, and the quietness grew. The only sound was his own moccasins breaking twigs with each step.

Something bright fluttered in front of his face; he slapped at it several times. Then they turned into small specks of light. He reached out toward it, but a powerful surge knocked him to the ground as a tomahawk stuck in a tree beside him.

A tomahawk! He climbed to his feet quickly and reached out, pulling it free. It was not just any tomahawk. It was the one he made for Charro when they were children. Jeremy screamed out, Charro! Are you trying to take the life of your brother?

A voice replied, You are not Blackfoot. Stay away from Chief Bear Claw.

All right, Charro, you are my friend. I will do as you ask.

We will make sure! Charro and his brothers screamed out the war cry.

Charro attacked with his brothers. The Protectors lashed out. Every time the Protectors backed down, they heard the war cry again. With another war cry, the Protectors lashed out in full defense mode. Their defense of Jeremy left Charro and brothers bloody, bruised, and with broken bones.

The Protectors flashed Jeremy back to where he had been chopping wood.

He sat on the log, his face covered with both hands. Tears of sorrow flowed between his fingers. What would become of the friendship between the Blackfoot tribe, the chief, and his family?

The Protectors fluttered around Jeremy. He stood. What are you? Who are you? They were soft flitting entities. A display of colorful lights encircled him.

We are the Protectors. Sent by the Creator. We will be with you until your second born needs us. Go to your family now. Charro will attack again with a cry of war!

Jeremy went to his knees. Surely, there is something I can do to stop this!

The Protectors were sad for a moment. Jeremy, we have circled the earth. The Creator gave humans free choice. Most prefer to hold a grudge, not forgive. The list is long. Jealousy is a possession of the soul. It is stronger than friendship.

Charro and his brothers limped back to camp. The chief’s anger turned to revenge. Who would dare attack the sons of a chief and why? The white man or another tribe?

The chief summoned the war council at the break of morning sun.

See if Charro and his brothers are well enough to attend. The chief sat in silence. A tribal war council member rose.

Charro, son of Chief Bear Claw, tell the council about your attack, by who, and why.

Charro rose. Our attack was from Jeremy Owens! Our brother, we know not why!

The chief rose. His face showed anger. Never had the chief inserted his voice into the tribal delegations. My son! Charro! Do you wish to retract or add to that statement?

There was mourning among the council. A mighty chief before the Blackfoot Nation had openly questioned his own son!

Drops of sweat began to form on Charro’s forehead. He thought, Why is my father questioning me? He looked into his father’s face and saw anger—and his father’s clenched fists. There would be no way his father could know the truth! He would stick to his story.

The chief spoke, staring straight into his son’s eyes, Last night, I traveled to the lodge of Jeremy’s father.

Charro’s thoughts were to run. There was no way out! He had lied before the council.

The chief continued, You were four warriors against one. You were almost killed. Jeremy has no scratch on him. Brothers of Charro, do you still stand with him?

The brothers held their hands out straight in front of them and took one step back. A clear admission of retreat.

Rage seized Charro.

All council members turned their back against Charro as did the tribe and his brothers too.

The chief, still with clenched fists, stated, I have only three sons. The eldest just died. There was grief and mourning in his eyes.

He was caught in an open-faced lie, outlawed by the council. Charro was banished from the Blackfoot Nation.

Come! the chief said. We must take request for forgiveness to Jeremy.

The chief led his warriors to the lodge of his friends. Along the way, each man picked up a gift. A gift of regret and respect.

Just before dusk, they stood in a semicircle before his cabin. They laid their gifts by the front steps.

Scott and Alisha held rifles as did their nine children but recognized their callers and laid them down before they stepped out onto the porch.

The chief and Jeremy embraced forearms.

Chief Bear Claw tried to speak. A sob broke his voice. He spoke in sign language, Jeremy, we give you our apology for our son and brother who is and was. He will leave his footprints no more. I will leave warriors with you to protect you from what remains.

Jeremy put his hand over his heart, saying, Thank you, but we are protected by the Creator.

What is this Creator? chief asked.

The God that created the heavens and earth and all of us.

He must be a mighty God.

He is chief.

You pray to this Creator.

Yes, every day.

Can the Blackfoot have this Creator?

Yes, He belongs to all of us.

Tell us how to pray to this God.

As Jeremy bent to his knees, he said, Repeat with me. Our Heavenly Father, which art in heaven . . .

An arrow shot past him, grazing his arm, going straight to the chief—a solid hit. He turned to see Charro aiming another arrow at Jeremy. He lunged forward, taking the arrow in his back.

A cry of horror rose from the Blackfoot Nation. Their beloved chief was betrayed by one of their own. The whole nation of the Blackfoot responded the only way they knew: revenge! A loud war cry was heard across the land.

There was weeping and wailing. The women cut their hair; some of the men cut off fingers. The tribe was in mourning.

Charro was grabbed before he could move. Woe would it be unto Charro. It would have been better for him if he had never been born.

Jeremy asked, What will happen to Charro?

We will not speak of this. Most of us will never know. It is better this way.

The tribal council met before Chief Bear Claw was sent to the Great Spirit beyond.

They ordered all traces of Charro to be removed from the village. His three brothers were asked to leave. Either leave, or you will be killed. Your bodies will be thrown in the dirt for the animals to devour. They chose to leave.

The council elected a new chief. Running Wolf.

The next day, Running Wolf stood before the cabin of Jeremy and his family.

The new chief and Jeremy embraced forearms. The chief tried to speak. His voice was too broken. The chief of a mighty nation could not show tears. He spoke in sign language. Honor us as we send Chief Bear Claw to the Creator.

Jeremy signed, We will be honored.

As the chief turned to leave, Jeremy and fourteen family members fell in line behind him.

As they approached the burial ground, a platform was built high into the sky; and Chief Bear Claw was put on top, covered with a bear skin.

The tribe sang, danced, and beat their drums. A sound of love sent the chief on his journey to the Creator. Running Wolf signed to Jeremy, Sing the songs of your people to help Bear Claw find his way.

Jeremy sang, and his family joined him. They sang with the beat of the drums.

The Creator was pleased. The heathens knew about creation and the Creator.

With outstretched arms, He welcomed Bear Claw into his kingdom.

For miles across the wildness, the songs were heard. The words no one could understand but could feel. The songs of the Great Spirit of the Creator.

Jeremy bowed his head, and with tears blinding his eyes, he had a vision of the future. The great Indian wars would soak the land with blood.

He felt love for his adopted people. The white man would push the native people to the edge of the earth. They would fight for their right to exist.

The chief talked to Jeremy for hours about the invasion by the white man.

He told Jeremy the tribes would unite to drive the white man back to where they came from.

Jeremy tried to explain, The white man’s invasion will not stop. They are without number. Chief, if you kill every white man you see, a number you cannot imagine will take their place. Even when the tribes unite, you will not stop the white man!

Running Wolf, Jeremy said as they parted, I will pray to the Creator that you have a long happy life with peace. But, my friend, I know you will have neither.

CHAPTER 2

S EVERAL MONTHS PASSED. Then Jeremy’s older brothers, Jack, Karl, Ray, and Jim decided to head back to the East Coast in search of wives. They anticipated being gone a year, at l east.

Dan, David, and Jeremy, with their two sisters, would stay with their folks until the other boys returned.

Jeremy was restless. He wandered aimlessly in the woods for weeks at a time. He sat in a tree, just watching a family of wild hogs for hours. He wanted to travel; he didn’t care where, maybe across the mountains or across the vast plains he had heard so much about.

His dreaming relaxed him, and the weather warmed him. He felt peace, and soon he fell asleep. Suddenly, feeling panic he woke with a start. What woke him? Warning! The Protectors circled him a few seconds; he strained to listen for any sound. He heard what woke him. A child was quietly crying. About twenty feet under the tree he was sitting in!

Protectors, what’s going on? Jeremy spoke quietly.

Jeremy, a war party has attacked a settlement a few miles from here. They took captive all the children and one woman.

Protectors, that doesn’t make sense. Why?

Breeding stock, Jeremy. He could feel the dismay in their message.

Are they mistreating the children?

No, Jeremy. But they are frightened and hungry.

What about the men of the settlement?

They are running this way, Jeremy!

Jeremy! A battle is looming! The children will be in danger!

Protectors, please take me, the children, and the woman back to the men.

Jeremy, a war cry! The men are being attacked.

Protectors!

Hold on, Jeremy! In a blink of an eye, all the warriors were scattered about fifty miles in all directions.

Jeremy whistled softly as he climbed down from the tree.

As he climbed down, he told the children to gather wood for a fire, so the men could find them.

The woman was Jennie Lou Ellis, mother to three of the children. She was the teacher in the classroom when the whole class of twenty-three children were taken captive, about nine o’clock that morning.

When the fire burned high, Jeremy told the children to sing loud, so the men could hear them. About thirty minutes later, Jeremy watched a joyous reunion.

They all were closer to Jeremy’s home than back to the settlement; so he decided to take everyone there, get them something to eat, let them get some rest before traveling back to the settlement.

Three of the fastest runners started back to let the families know the children were safe and should be home before noon the next day.

Jeremy walked up the road to the house. Dan and David saw them, and so did Susan and Kay. With him were twenty-three children, a woman, and a half-dozen men!

Dan said, What do you think Jeremy’s been up to?

Kay laughed. Well, I don’t know, but all nine of us can’t keep up with him.

When Jeremy got near enough, he told them, "There is a settlement not too far. These are their children.

The Indians kidnapped them this morning. They need something to eat and some rest. They are in shock to say the least.

Susan said, Dan, get some ham out of the smokehouse, and, David, gather the eggs. Jeremy, take them to the well. Let them wash up.

Some of the smaller children fell to sleep while they were eating. Later, twenty-three children were asleep all over the house. Plus their teacher and the men.

The next morning they discussed if Jeremy should go on the trip back to the settlement.

They told him about an expedition west to create new maps in unexplored areas. He decided he would go. Maybe he could find someone to tell him about the expedition trip.

It was early September. The trip back to the settlement was smooth, if slow going, but soon the children were reunited with their parents. This touched Jeremy to the point of tears! He wasn’t the only one.

He went into the only supply store and talked to the man at the counter. Mister, do you know anything about an expedition heading west? I think they want to draw maps.

The man was Hubert Hawkins. Jeremy thought he looked like a cantankerous old coot that had tobacco juice stains on both sides of his beard.

Sure thing, son. The old coot pulled some papers out from under his counter and read some information. He said, There are two leaving in March. One is the Louis and Clark expedition, and the other is Kellie and Granger. They’re both scheduled to leave on March 15 from Washington. The man handed him the two fliers. Son, if I were twenty years younger… He looked down, dejected. Oh, well. Hawkins gave him sneer and spit some tobacco juice somewhere behind the counter.

Jeremy went out the door and scraped the top of his head on the door facing.

Ouch, the old man said, son, a feller as tall as you are better learn to duck.

Jeremy enjoyed his trip back home, the solitude, yet he laughed at some of the children’s antics that he remembered. Nature was home for him most of the time. Then he thought about what the Protectors had told him: We will be with you until your second child needs us! I guess they know my future.

Three weeks after he had been home, two of his brothers returned with wives. Except Jim. His wife wanted to stay in Ohio for a while, so he remained there with her. They would join the family some time later.

He had three months to sign up for an expedition trip. That night he told his family about his plans and asked for their blessings.

The morning of December 10, 1803, Jeremy’s father told him they had decided to move south. The Mexican government was offering land grants. When he was ready to go home again, he would need to go south and find them.

After a tearful good-bye, he mounted his horse; and leading a pack horse, he rode north. First, he wanted to find the camp of Running Wolf, chief of the Blackfoot Tribe. He rode for eight days; on the ninth day, he rode into a clearing. Four spears shot out in front of him by about four feet he figured.

The Protectors formed a shield around him. He said, Easy, fellas, it’s only a warning. Seven warriors circled him. The Protectors didn’t like the attitude of one of the leaders. Jeremy held out his arm, saying in the Blackfoot language, I am Jeremy. I am looking for Chief Running Wolf. They did not respond. He repeated what he said in sign language.

The leader let out a war cry and raised his spear!

The Protectors shot out a spark to the horse’s ear. Startled, it reared, sending the warrior flying backward on his pretty little feathers.

I guess they didn’t like my accent. Thanks, fellas.

All right, you smart alecks, stop your threats and take me to Chief Running Wolf, he signed.

One of the smart alecks slapped his horse on the rump, almost sending him flying. He gave him a sign of slap your hands together, then thumbs down, which means: Well, never mind what it means. Jeremy thought. With a little effort, that bunch could be plum obnoxious. They gathered together in front of him and took off. He followed them.

As Jeremy rode into a camp, a foul feeling was hanging in the air. He saw a young man hanging upside down from spikes driven through his ankles. He had reddish-golden-blond hair.

Running Wolf! Where is he? One of the smart alecks pointed to his lodge.

As Jeremy lifted the door flap and his eyes adjusted to the dimness inside, he gasped, Oh no.

Running Wolf was only minutes from death.

He walked to the front of the lodge and signed, Take that man down and bring him in to the chief. They ignored him.

Please, Protectors, whoever you have to knock out of the way, bring that man to the chief’s lodge. The warriors stood with their spears raised.

Silently, the Protectors formed a force, knocking the warriors aside, then took the red-haired man down. They repaired his ankles as they withdrew the spikes.

Before their eyes, as unseen force moved the man about three feet off the ground toward the chief’s lodge, Jeremy opened the flap, and the man disappeared inside. At once, Jeremy’s initial fears were verified. He knew the man.

Jeremy knelt beside Jim, his brother. Protectors, please, can you help Running Wolf? Jeremy spread a soft blanket over Jim and the chief.

The Protectors asked Jeremy to step out of the lodge. He closed the flap, but still, a blinding light made everyone cover their eyes!

One hour later, Jim and the chief stepped out of the lodge. The chief stood in silence, but the tribespeople went to their knees.

Dancing Wind stood and spoke, The Great Spirit is among us. He raised his arms to the sky.

Yes, Running Wolf answered, the Spirit of our Creator is among us, but there is treachery in our camp. One of our own tried to kill me.

Standing Bow edged closer to the forest as the chief spoke his name. The warriors started to attack him, but the chief held up his hand. Let him go. The camp is secure. He will be dealt with.

Now! What is owed to this innocent man?

Our life, a young warrior answered.

So be it. Anyone who was part of his torture, step forward.

Seven warriors stepped forward, head bowed. We are guilty.

You are his protectors for the rest of his life. Keep him safe.

We will obey, Great Chief.

For the first time, Jim spoke up in a halting voice, Is… my wife here?

I’m here, Jim, a tear-filled, soft, and quivering voice answered him.

She never told him they were preparing her for marriage to a young brave as soon as Jim was dead. Jeremy knew that Jim’s wife had to be a beautiful woman.

Come. Sit, the chief called. It is an occasion for a great feast.

The great buffalo was served, and they all ate their fill. Jeremy, Linda, and Jim were the honored guests. They feasted on dried berries and root vegetables. Both of the brothers leaned back, rubbing their overextended bellies.

Jeremy smiled when he finally noticed. Linda also had red hair and big blue eyes. Jim explained that they had been on their way back home when they were attacked by that young Standing Bow. Then Jeremy told Jim the folks and the rest of the family were moving to a land grant offered by the Mexican government.

Jim looked at his wife, Linda, and said, That is good to know. Nothing too much worse and going home and finding out that they left!

Jeremy was on his way east to join the Kellie and Granger expedition, leaving in March. Jim told him he would find the family, I promise.

Jeremy, when you return, you will find us?

I promise, Jim. I will. The two brothers shook hands, then embraced each other in a bear hug.

Jim and Linda were given a beautiful lodge for the night.

Jeremy and Running Wolf talked for most of the night in his lodge.

The chief took an amulet from a pouch at his side and slipped the beaded loop over Jeremy’s head. A remembrance that you are my brother. From Running Wolf to Jeremy. Then they slept until dawn.

At morning light, they were ready to leave. Jim told the chief that his Indian protectors would be sent home, with his blessing, when he and Linda found his family. Jim knew most of the Blackfoot sign language, enough to commutate.

The chief replied, It is as you say. The tribe will take care of their lodge until they return. The Creator be with you, brother of my brother!

Jeremy’s love for his Indian friends filled his emotions. It was hard to say good-bye.

Jim, Linda, and the seven Indian protectors traveled with Jeremy for two days. About noon on the third day, Jim, Linda, and the Indians headed south. Jeremy watched until they were out of sight.

CHAPTER 3

T HE TEMPERATURE WAS dropping; snow flurries floated gently down until the wind picked up. He reached for his fur coat and leg covers and the gloves his mother and sisters had made. Just before sunset, he made camp. He was deep in thought while building a curved log break to reflect the heat. On one side, he laid cedar branches crisscrossed to keep most of the snow diverted; then he built a fire. His thoughts distracted him. He wished he had a Bible. He sure would like to know more about the Jesus he heard a few talk a bout.

He heard a faint whimper, then again and again, until he could follow its direction with his eyes. Whatever it was, it must be small. He saw the snow move. He got up, and taking his knife, he moved the heavy wet snow around. There were two little fur balls, white as the snow itself, moving just a little bit.

Pups! Wolf pups! Good grief, he muttered. Looking around, he saw no protective female. He picked them up. Two white female wolf pups. About a month old maybe. Much too young to be left alone in this shallow hole. Cautiously, Jeremy looked around the area. Still no mother. She could be out hunting!

He took them back to the camp, nestled himself back under the cedar branches. By looking at the pups, he figured they were about starved. Then he thought maybe the mother was dead.

Running Wolf had given him a pouch of dried buffalo meat. The pups had teeth; maybe they could eat it. He took two pieces out. One pup reached out with its short muzzle and cautiously took the offered meat; the other attacked, hand and all, viciously drawing blood from his finger. He laughed. Bite the hand that feeds you! Well, little Wolfie, eat! He gave both of them two more pieces.

With full stomachs they played tug-o-war with another piece. The gentle one ended up with it. Jeremy ate too; then he lay back and got comfortable. Both pups curled up under his chin and went to sleep.

The first glimmer of daylight woke him with the sound of growling. The pups each had the end of a piece of dried meat. A tug-o-war game was on again. The gentler one was stronger; she ended up with it. She bit off a hunk, then let the aggressive one have the rest of it. Well, aren’t you ladylike? I guess I’ll call you Lady.

He pulled out three more strips of meat. While they ate, Jeremy was so enchanted watching the pups he lost track of time.

The snow had stopped sometime during the night. The sky was clear blue. The fire was out, but he kicked snow over it anyway.

He stood, thinking, Now what do I do with you, young ladies? He stuffed hands in each pocket and felt for space. Satisfied with the results, he stuffed one pup on each side. A perfect fit—for now. I wonder how fast you girls are going to grow.

They traveled about two hours. Then the pups began to whimper and squirm around. Oh, I guess you need to stop. Me too. He took care of his business, then walked around a bit. All right, Wolfie, Lady, let’s go. No pups were in sight. If you don’t come on, I’ll leave without you! He took out the dried meat bag and opened it.

Two white fur balls were knocking each other down, trying to get to him first. He broke one piece of the jerky in half and gave half to each pup, then put the bag in his vest pocket. He put the pups back in the side pockets. The weather was not cooperating, and the pups were slowing him down. By midafternoon, it started clouding up again. The wind blew up a blanket of snow. The pups were yapping again.

Now what do I do? Protectors, you have any good ideas? Take off my coat, I’ll freeze to death. All right, now what? He laid his coat across his lap and the saddle horn, put both pups in his lap. The Protectors formed a warm shield around both horses and the pups.

Okay, this is great! Now the pups can move around a little. Thanks! They traveled like this for the next five hours, and Jeremy found himself getting weary. The horses also needed to rest. He found a small overhang on