Introduction

Morrow Little is haunted by the memory of the day her family was torn apart by raiding Shawnee warriors. Now that she is nearly a grown woman and her father is ailing, she must make difficult choices about the future. Several men--ranging from the undesired to the unthinkable--vie for her attentions, but she finds herself inexplicably drawn to a forbidden love that both terrifies and intrigues her. Can she betray the memory of her lost loved ones--and garner suspicion from her friends--by pursuing a life with him? Or should she seal her own misery by marrying a man she doesn't love?

This sweeping tale of romance and forgiveness will envelop readers as it takes them from a Kentucky fort through the vast wilderness to the west in search of true love.

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Excerpt

Fort Pitt, Pennsylvania

June 1778

Morrow took out a painted paper fan, her gloved hands trembling,

and recalled the look of horror on her aunt’s face moments

before when she’d embarked, as if she’d stepped into a coffin

instead of a keelboat. Or perhaps Aunt Etta was ruing that she’d

smothered her niece in silk, given the tobacco-chewing boatmen

at the oars.

Beneath the wide brim of her straw hat, Morrow’s eyes timorously

swept the deck. Was she to be the only female on board?

And what of her escort?

Up and down the rickety dock she looked, searching for the

man her father had hired to bring her safely from Fort Pitt to

Kentucke. Even with the summer sun in her eyes, it didn’t take

long to find him. Amidst all the folks lining the waterfront, one

man stood out and was making straight for her. Although his

attire was the same as almost every other settler in sight, he

moved with an air of authority that nullified the need for any

introduction. Only Ezekial Click could cause the crowd to part

as decisively as the Red Sea.

“Captain Click!” someone shouted.

With a dismissive wave of his hand, the frontiersman turned

toward her, his moccasins making short work of the long plank

that dangled over green water smooth as a ballroom floor. He

soon stood before her, his long rifle pointed toward the summer

sky. He was leaner and more weathered than she remembered

and wore a fringed linen shirt that fell to buckskin breeches.

His long yellow hair and eyebrows were streaked white from

the sun, and his fur felt hat was angled jauntily to one side, a

turkey feather atop it. Brilliant blue eyes peered out of a brown

face, instantly taking her measure. “Would you be Miss Morrow

Mary Little?”

“I am.” Charmed by his use of her whole name, she dropped

a small curtsy, which seemed only to amuse him.

“It’s been some years since I’ve seen you.” His voice was deep

and mellow yet held a hint of command. She tried not to stare

but couldn’t help herself. It was this man who had wooed them

into the wilds of Kentucke so many years before. Being a Quaker

and a frontiersman, he seemed to have a fondness for preachers

like her pa. Among all the rogues and ruffians who followed him

onto the frontier, the new Kentucke settlements could stand a

preacher’s civilizing influence, he’d said. And so they’d followed

him west and, she reflected, seemed to be following him still.

“I reckon you remember little of that trip,” he mused, shifting

his rifle to his other arm.

She flushed, eyes returning to the river. “Just the horseflies

and the heat.”

But even as she said it, a bittersweet wave washed over her.

She recalled her mother packing wafer-thin china plates into

straw-lined barrels outside their summer kitchen in Virginia.

Tearful goodbyes to neighbors and the fine brick home she’d

been born in. And then the memory blurred to deep green

woods so suffocating the sun never shone. One sweltering day

atop a rocky precipice called Cumberland Gap, their wagon had

tipped its load and sent those fine china dishes flying like pigeons

into a shady chasm so deep they’d never see daylight again. Her

genteel mother, she remembered, had been pregnant and burst

into tears. Was he remembering it too? The smile on his face

told her he just might be, but then it slipped away.

Was he also thinking of that simmering summer years before

when her family’s life had been torn asunder? He’d not speak of

it, she guessed. ’Twas far safer to ponder what she knew of him.

The man standing before her was a bit of a riddle, both revered

and reviled in the Kentucke settlements. Rumor was he had a

daughter so wild he’d had to carry her to finishing school in

Virginia and was just returning from doing that. Morrow supposed

Lael Click was nearly as well known as her father, what

with her fair hair hanging to her feet. Though they’d never met,

she’d heard enough to make her ears burn.

“This won’t be a pleasure trip,” he told her, adjusting the brim

of his hat.

The warning in his words made her tense. Once again she

was mindful of her fancy dress and ashamed she’d not had

the sense to wear homespun. Did he think she was all lace

and ribbons, not fit for rigorous travel? She noticed that he’d

already dismissed her and was now perusing the polemen . . .

who were perusing her. With a flick of her wrist she snapped

open her fan so she could hide behind its feminine folds. Feeling

flushed, she turned her attention to the rough wood of the

boat, which was little more than a raft with a crude cabin atop

it, the sides peppered with loopholes that bespoke danger. A

floating fort, no less. Perhaps this was why the frontiersman

looked so at home on it.

His voice shifted to a more soothing tone. “You should see

the Red River in two weeks.”

Two weeks. A fortnight and she’d be home. But would they

ever make it? Aunt Etta’s parting look told her they might not.

Indians were known to lie in wait along the north shore of the

Ohio River, intent on killing settlers who dared venture down

that vast watery road. Her father was well aware of the danger

and had hired the famed frontiersman as a hedge against trouble.

If anyone could bring her safely home, it was he.

But no matter how capable he was, Ezekial Click couldn’t

take away the fear she felt as the keelboat shuddered and left

the dock, dodging a sandbar as it moved into the sluggish current.

He led her to a barrel to sit on, the dark lettering on the

side telling her it held rum. A morning mist hung over the three

rivers that intertwined here, and an eternal wind set the ribbons

of her hat aflutter like the fort flag high above. Softly she recited

the waters’ names to test her memory. The Monongahela, the

Allegheny, and the Ohio—Indian words, all.

As she pressed her back against the sun-warmed wood of

the cabin, her eyes stayed true to the north shore, the Shawnee

shore. She heard Captain Click remind the polemen to keep to

the middle of the mile-wide river, well out of rifle range. Her gaze

fastened on the place known as Fort Pitt. Its wooden walls were

receding now, a brown bulwark atop a high hill overshadowing

a scattering of Indian lodges encamped on the plain beneath.

She squinted in the sunlight, remembering Fort Pitt was a place

for treaties and trade goods. A gateway to the west.

How safe was she? The grim set of Ezekial Click’s jaw assured

her she’d have been better off staying in Philadelphia. Unbidden,

a Scripture learned at her father’s knee rushed to mind. I

will call on the Lord, who is worthy to be praised: so shall I be

saved from mine enemies. The words wove through her head

like a song. But solace her they did not. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

1. In 18th-century Kentucky, the conflict between the British and Indians and settlers was so great that there was hardly a family untouched by tragedy. How would you have responded if your husband, son, or daughter was killed or taken captive like those in the Little household? Why do you think Morrow and her father responded so differently to the tragedy that had befallen them?

2. At the start of the novel, Morrow shows a startling naiveté about life in general and men in particular. She is also unaware of her physical beauty. How might a mother or sister have moved her toward maturity? How did a grieving father and a spinster aunt impede her progress?

3. Morrow’s father, Elias Little, reflects the forgiving nature of Daniel Boone. Boone lost two beloved sons in the frontier conflict yet his refusal to hold a grudge was legendary. How is it possible to find forgiveness in the midst of unspeakable tragedy? Would you have nursed a grudge or embraced forgiveness? Why?

4. Compare Morrow’s two closest friends, Lizzy and Jemima. What influence did they have on Morrow? At what point in the novel did you feel like one of them would betray her? Were you surprised when it happened?

5. Although Major McKie is the villain in this story, there were many honorable men in uniform during that era. Can you dig deep and find any good qualities about him? Why do you think he was attracted to Morrow? What kind of life would they have had together if she’d accepted his proposal?

6. Red Shirt attended Brafferton School which is a part of the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia. The school’s vision was to train Indian youth to act as liaisons and peacemakers between their tribes and the encroaching white world. Yet one chief is reported to have claimed that the education they received made the native sons “good for nothing.” Today Brafferton is but a relic of a dream gone awry. Do you think it was wise to try to educate Indian youth as they did? How might the white culture have done things differently? Why do you think Brafferton was a failure?

7. When Morrow meets Red Shirt, she is a victim of her own wrong assumptions. Like many of her day, she falls victim to the belief that Indians are ignorant savages bent on destruction. How is Morrow’s wrong thinking challenged over the course of the novel? At what point do you see her falling in love with him? Why does she try so hard to deny it?

8. Red Shirt is a man caught between two cultures and belonging to neither. Have you ever pondered how isolating and disorienting this must have been? What qualities and abilities does he have that made him resilient and able to withstand the extreme danger he lived with? Why do you think he was attracted to Morrow? What made him bold enough to declare his love for her?

9. Most women in 18th-century America were either pregnant or nursing almost continuously for a quarter of a century or more. Morrow is no exception. What supports were in place for women during that time that helped them through the seemingly endless cycle of motherhood? How would you have responded to this season of life?

10. Which scenes were your favorite in the novel? Which characters did you like the most? Least? What Scriptural truths were inherent in the book that you can take away as a life lesson?

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