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    Native Fear
    Native Fear
    Native Fear
    Ebook49 pages47 minutes

    Native Fear

    By Susan Hart

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A woman decides to go out west after becoming widowed, but when she arrives her fiancé is nothing at all like she imagined he would be. His appearance brings back horrid memories of a family tragedy, and she doubts that she can even speak to him, let alone get married.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSusan Hart
    Release dateFeb 3, 2016
    ISBN9781310888540
    Native Fear
    Author

    Susan Hart

    I was born in England, but have lived in Southern California for many years. I m now retired and live in the Pacific NW in a little seaside city amongst the giant redwoods and wonderful harbor, almost at the Oregon border. My husband and I have one cat, called Midnight and she is featured in two of my latest Sci-Fi short stories. I love Science Fiction, animals, and trying to help others. I publish under Doreen Milstead as well as my own name. My photo was taken right before the coronation of QE II in the UK.

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      Book preview

      Native Fear - Susan Hart

      Native Fear

      By

      Susan Hart

      Copyright 2019

      Synopsis: Native Fear -- A woman decides to go out west after becoming widowed, but when she arrives, her fiancé is nothing at all like she imagined he would be. His appearance brings back horrid memories of a family tragedy, and she doubts that she can even speak to him, let alone get married.

      Texas 1870

      There was no going back. Eliza Davis had known that the moment she slid onto her seat in the dust covered wagon, the six Quarter horses straining at their bits to be off, but even still she questioned her decision. Had she made the right choice?

      Even as the question lingered in her mind, she knew there hadn’t been another option. Joshua had made any other choice impossible.

      The coach jostled her sideways and she used every muscle to keep from toppling into the older gentleman next to her. His head was tilted back in sleep, though Eliza had no idea how he could possibly relax in the midst of the bumps and jolts.

      She loosened her white-knuckled grip on the edge of the seat and readjusted herself, peering out the small window covered in grime from the journey. There was nothing to see for miles except for the few trees that rose up from the endless plains. Miles and miles of plains, just like back home.

      Eliza bit her lip, forcing the memories to stop, but they were soon replaced by anger that flushed her cheeks. Her Irish temper was never far, always at a slow boil beneath the surface. Joshua had said it would be her downfall, but in the end, he’d taken care of that himself by dying and leavening nothing for her behind.

      Nothing except for the burse that had finally faded from her cheek, and the hurt that still lingered in her heart.

      Hot, angry tears flooded her eyes but she willed them away. She would not cry for him again, though guilt washed over her. God has seen fit to deliver her from his cruel hands; though this journey felt like anything but deliverance. Was it her fault he had died? Had God forgotten her?

      No. Her mother’s words dropped into her mind like drops of fresh water on a hot day. God never forgets, He only delays to make the deliverance that much greater.

      Eliza closed her eyes, clinging to that promise.

      North Bank, Texas. One more hour.

      The muffled voice from outside the coach caught Eliza by surprise and her heart hammered in response. They were close.

      She clutched her gloved hands to her middle, breathing in slowly to calm her nerves. She didn’t know what to expect and didn’t even know whom to look for when she arrived. She could only hope that Mr. Henry Boyd would recognize her from her picture. It had been taken many years ago, just before she’d married Joshua, but it was the only image she had of herself.

      The wagon jostled her again, this time throwing her against the wall of the coach. She groaned and rubbed her arm. No matter what awaited her at the stagecoach station, she would be happy to no longer feel every bone in her body being jarred and tossed about.

      Before long, the coach slowed to a stop, dust swirling through the air. When the door opened, she was the first to exit, her delicate lace gloves lightly touching the rough hands of the stagecoach driver. Eliza tested her cramped legs and took a few steps forward, squinting against the brightness of the midday sun.

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