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  She Steals My Breath

  The Medicine Man, Volume 1

  Karen Kay

  Published by Karen Kay, 2022.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  SHE STEALS MY BREATH

  First edition. March 22, 2022.

  Copyright © 2022 Karen Kay.

  ISBN: 978-1393354376

  Written by Karen Kay.

  She Steals My Breath

  By

  Karen Kay

  The Medicine Man Series

  Book One

  Her Beauty Takes His Breath Away... Only She Can Restore It

  Eagle Heart of the Blackfoot Nation has not come to the trading post, Fort Union, to trade, but to find his missing brother. The medicine man has never seen a white woman, but when she walks into the room, her beauty literally steals his breath.

  Laylah McIntosh has assets besides beauty that make her valuable to her father, the fort's trader: her skill with numbers, her photographic memory and her knowledge of the sign language used by all the tribes. But, when she’s injured and caught in a fierce blizzard, it is Eagle Heart, alone, who rescues her.

  Forced into each other's company, their attraction deepens. But a union between them is forbidden in both their worlds.

  Can their love find a way to survive? Or will their differences separate them forever?

  Warning: Sensuous romance and a love written in the stars could cause a gal to go West in search of love and adventure.

  She Steals My Breath

  Copyright © March 2022 by Karen Kay

  COVER BY DARLENE DIXON

  Blurb created by BlurbWriter.com and Karen Kay

  EBOOKS ARE not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement of the copyrights of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  PK&J Publishing

  1 Lakeview Trail

  Danbury, CT 06811

  Table of Contents

  She Steals My Breath

  About the Book

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Special Acknowledgement to Musical Artists

  A Note About the Word ‘Indian’

  Additional Note to the Reader

  The Game of COS-SOÓ

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Look for These Titles by Karen Kay

  Excerpt From She Captures My Heart Book Two of the Medicine Man Series

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my good friend, Steve Reevis, and his wife, Macile Reevis. I will always treasure your friendship.

  Also, to the Girl-with-pretty-hair, my granddaughter, Lila.

  And, to my husband, Paul, whom I love with all my heart.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  It would be rare, indeed, if an author didn't find inspiration from others. And so, here at the start of the book, I would like to acknowledge the following writers, artists and presenters:

  John Trudell

  Poet, songwriter, actor, activist and writer, your insights into life and the world around you opened my eyes to many things.

  Tom Brown, Jr.

  Scout, writer and teacher, his book, THE WAY OF THE SCOUT, is filled with thrilling stories of scouting. His depiction of the Indian scout's spiritual kind of warfare gave this author many hours of pleasurable reading.

  Mr. Brown also teaches a survival school in New Jersey, Tom Brown Tracker, Inc., which one can find online at https://www.trackerschool.com.

  James Willard Schultz

  Author of the books:

  MY LIFE AS AN INDIAN;

  BLACKFEET AND BUFFALO;

  THE SUN GOD'S CHILDREN;

  and BLACKFEET TALES OF GLACIER NATIONAL PARK.

  Jeffrey Prather

  Author of INITIATION, Boys are Born, Men are Trained.

  Walter McClintock

  Author of THE OLD NORTH TRAIL.

  Charles Alexander Eastman, Dakota Tribe

  Mr. Eastman's stories have kept me riveted to the pages of his works. In particular, the book OLD INDIAN DAYS and the story "The Love of Antelope" were exciting and beautiful.

  "The Pikuni Bigfoot Storytelling Project"

  "The Facts by Howtohunt.com"

  SPECIAL ACKNOWLEGEMENT TO THE MUSIC OF THE FOLLOWING ARTISTS:

  The Left Banke

  “Just Walk Away Renee”

  Roy Orbison and his beautiful works, specifically

  “A Love So Beautiful” and

  “I Drove All Night”

  Frank Waln

  Lakota-born hip-hop artist and American Indian activist, his songs, his words and his struggles touched my heart.

  John Trudell, activist, poet and philosopher

  “My Heart Doesn't Hurt Anymore”

  ”Takes-My-Breath”

  ”After All These Years”

  Spirit of the Glen

  The Royal Scots Dragoon Guards

  A NOTE ABOUT THE WORD “INDIAN”

  At this time in history, the term "Native American" did not exist. The Indians were called simply “Indians,” although within their own culture they were more usually known by their tribal name. Also, even in the present day, depending upon the tribe, American Indians often call themselves “Indians” and are proud of it (as an example, the Blackfeet "Indian Days Pow-wow"). This is true of the Blackfeet, the Lakota and several other of the northern tribes. There are, however, several tribes that I know of who prefer to be called "Native American" or, in some cases, "First Americans." But, once again, these are modern terms and simply did not exist at the time period of this novel.

  Additionally, there are those within the Native American community who say the commonly held history of this word “Indian” is not accurate and that the word, as it was originally used, was the Spanish word "Indio," meaning "to walk with God" or "God's children." If one does a thorough search of history, one can find Christopher Columbus using the word "Indio" to describe the people he met, and he explicitly notes them as "God's Children."

  ADDITIONAL NOTE TO THE READER

  At the time when this story takes place, there were three different tribes of Indians that, together, comprised the Blackfeet, or Blackfoot, Nation: the Piegan, or Pikuni—their name in the Blackfoot language; the Blood, or Kainah; and the Blackfoot proper, or Siksika.

  The Piegan, which is pronounced “pay-gan,” were also divided into the northern and southern bands.

  All three of these of these tribes were independent and were known to the early trappers by their own individual tribal names. But, because the three shared the same language, intermarried and went to war with the same enemi
es, it became more common to call these people Blackfoot, or Siksiká.

  When this story takes place, the names "Blackfoot" and "Blackfeet" were used interchangeably, meaning one and the same group of people.

  However, during reservation days, the story goes (as I was told it) that the US government utilized a misnomer, calling the tribe of the southern Piegan, or Pikuni, the "Blackfeet." The designation stuck, and to this day this tribe resides in northern Montana on the Blackfeet Reservation and is referred to by the government as the "Blackfeet" (although they are really the southern Piegan, or Pikuni).

  Consequently, when we speak today of the Blackfoot tribes, or the Siksiká Nation as a whole, we talk of four different tribes: the Blackfoot; the Blood and Piegan bands in Canada; and the Blackfeet band in Montana. Thus, when referring to the "Blackfeet," one is speaking of the band of Indians in Montana, whereas the name "Blackfoot" refers to the band of Indians in Alberta, Canada.

  If this seems confusing to you, I can assure you, it baffled me at first.

  Thus, in this story, because the Blackfeet and the Blackfoot names were interchangeable at this point in history, I have used "Blackfeet" as a noun (I went to visit the Blackfeet) and "Blackfoot" as an adjective (I went to Blackfoot country). I did this for no other reason than consistency.

  However, because the prologue of this story takes place in a more recent time, I refer to the reservation of the Pikuni Tribe in Montana as it is known to us today—the Blackfeet Reservation.

  In addition, I am defining some words used often in this story to assist further understanding.

  The Crow — A tribe of Indians who inhabited the Montana Territory around the upper Yellowstone River. They were at war with the Blackfeet.

  Medicine — Described by George Catlin in his book, Letters and Notes on the Manners, Customs, and Conditions of North American Indians:

  "'Medicine' is a great word in this country; ...

  “The word medicine, in its common acceptation here, means mystery, and nothing else; and in that sense I shall use it very frequently in my Notes on Indian Manners and Customs.

  “The Fur Traders in this country, are nearly all French; and in their language, a doctor or physician, is called 'Medecin.' The Indian country is full of doctors; and as they are all magicians, and skilled, or profess to be skilled, in many mysteries, the word 'medecin' has become habitually applied to every thing mysterious or unaccountable..."

  Sits-beside-him-woman or wife — In Indian tribes which practiced polygamy, this referred to the favorite wife—usually the first wife—or wife of a man's heart. She directed all the other wives and had the right to sit next to her husband at important meetings.

  THE GAME OF COS-SOÓ

  In one of my stories, THE SPIRIT OF THE WOLF (Book Two in The Lost Clan Series), I introduced the game Cos-soó, a game played by the men of the plains tribes. Because the game is revisited in this story, I would like to say a word about it.

  Cos-soó, sometimes called “the game of the bowl,” was a common game known to the Indians on the plains—all tribes. A game of chance, it was played only by men, and the stakes were often desperate.

  Because this book delineates the rules for this game within its text, I won't repeat them here. However, I would like to bring notice to an observation made by Edwin Thompson Denig in his book, The Assiniboine: “It has been observed in these pages in reference to their gambling that it is much fairer in its nature than the same as carried on by the whites and this is worthy of attention...” Mr. Denig was a trader in the early 1800's who was married to an Assiniboine woman.

  The game was often kept up for forty-eight to seventy-two hours without a break except for meals. And it was usually played until one or the other of the players was ruined totally.

  Horses, guns, weapons, clothing and women were all stakes in these games. Again, Edwin Thompson Denig observed, “We have known Indians to lose everything—horses, dogs, cooking utensils, lodge, wife, even to his wearing apparel...”

  PROLOGUE

  The Blackfeet Reservation

  The Early Twentieth Century

  Although the old man wore the reservation clothes representative of a new and modern people, his pipe was centuries old, had belonged to his family for hundreds of years, and had been passed down from one generation to another. His gray hair was plaited in the older, traditional style, with two braids at the side of his face and one braid in back. A single eagle's feather was attached by a clip behind his head and stood up straight.

  His hands were gnarled, were littered with brown spots and blue veins, and his fingers shook when he held up his pipe toward the sky. As he sat on his trade blanket within his canvas tepee, he watched as the many children from the Blackfeet reservation stepped over the bottom fold of the tepee's entrance flap, and, finding a seat upon his fur-lined buffalo robe, sat down in a semicircle around him.

  The time of the year was the Moon of Home Days (July and August), and the stars in the night sky reminded him that, on this night, his duty was toward the young who might beg him to tell them the centuries-old stories of their ancestors. Although he was well aware that these tales were often thrilling to the young people, sometimes it was important—perhaps more important—to relive the legends of old, those which had been passed down through the ages from father and mother to son and daughter. In this way these stories might always be preserved.

  On this warm summer's night, the stars shone brightly outside, and, from the smoke hole at the top of his lodge, the old man could see the moon, aware that its full shape was slowly waning and becoming smaller each night. At present, it was shining down directly into his tepee, encircling him in a large moonbeam, as though it were alive and the circle around him was a gift from the Creator, sent here to remind him of another time, another place and a quest his people might never forget.

  For this reason, he felt it right to pass along this tale of his ancestors—a story of romance, of adventure and of a way of life to be kept alive. Also, its accompanying legend must be told, since the tale involved the compassion of the Creator toward a race of people He loved dearly. Perhaps in the retelling of it, the young people of today might be reminded of the bravery and honor that was once held to be amongst the highest of Blackfoot virtues.

  The old ways were slowly passing into history, perhaps never to be experienced again. Indeed, it was true: different values than those of their common ancestors were sought by the youth of today, for the lure of the incoming civilization, along with its gadgets and its promise of ease, seemed to fit more prominently into their lives. But, now and again, the young gathered around oldsters like him.

  In a low, shaky voice, he began by welcoming these adolescents to his lodge and said, "Nitsikobtaahsí kikáó'toohsi, I am glad you have arrived."

  No one spoke back to him, for the Blackfoot language was disappearing amongst these youthful people. It seemed none of the children had understood what he'd said. However, there was one young lady—perhaps a child of seven—who smiled back at him and said in Blackfeet, "Soka'pii."

  This greatly pleased him, and he answered her, saying, "You speak our language well, child. It gladdens my heart to hear the words of your forebears come from your lips. May your parents and others within our circle continue to encourage you along this path."

  She smiled at him, and he returned the gesture before beginning his story. With his right hand sweeping outward to indicate the group in general, he began, "This is the legend of the Creator's love for a people who were on the brink of extinction. But, I go before myself. Let me begin at the beginning."

  Settling himself into a more comfortable position, he said, "This is the saga of a people we know as Ómahk ótapi'sin, the Big People. It has been told to me, as I now tell it to you, that the Creator, or Sun as we once addressed the Creator, was greatly troubled because there lived a people in His land who were dying. These were the Big People, who stood perhaps seven to nine feet tall. Their bodies were covered with hai
r, which was the reason they were a dying race, for the land of Sun is fiery and hot.

  "Behold, there was a reason why the Creator loved these people so dearly. Listen, and I will tell you what happened. It began in a time so long ago, we can barely conceive of the passage of so many years. Now, it happened at this time that a she-wolf and a woman from the tribe of the Big People saved the life of the Creator's daughter, Ap-ai-kai-kon, Little Skunk. Ap-ai-kai-kon was so young she didn't understand the ways of the land of the Sun in which she lived, and this became a problem.

  "One day Ap-ai-kai-kon could not bear the heat of the day, and so she traveled to a distant land where lived wolves who possessed the magical power of creating the water used to cool the land. There, she met a she-wolf.

  "Ap-ai-kai-kon begged the wolf to make a watering hole for her. There, she might drink and cool herself.

  "Now, because Ap-ai-kai-kon was the daughter of Sun, the wolf did as His daughter asked and caused the skies to rain down upon a certain valley, but only upon that valley because the Sun must always be blazing and hot. In her enthusiasm, the she-wolf had not taken into account how deeply the valley cut into the surrounding land. Soon, the watering hole became a lake.

  "But, Ap-ai-kai-kon rejoiced, for the water looked refreshing. In very little time, she had splashed into the stream and had set out toward the middle of the lake. Suddenly, she dropped into a hole. She couldn't swim, for she possessed no knowledge of water and its dangers.

  "The she-wolf, seeing Ap-ai-kai-kon's distress, swam toward her and dove down, down, down, all the way to the bottom of the lake. There she found Ap-ai-kai-kon and brought her up to the surface of the water, but, being too fatigued from her exertion, the she-wolf was unable to swim back to the distant shore. She, too, began to struggle.