AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story is purely fictional. No attempt was made – intentional or otherwise – to portray any culture in a negative manner whether by speech, action, or circumstance. If such a portrayal is inferred by my readers, it is purely accidental. Also the Indian “language” used here is not real language – it’s made up for the story!

Travis Michael Dillon had seen enough. He had seen enough bloodshed. He had seen enough suffering. He had seen enough of the war. So in the spring of 1866, he decided to do something about it. The War Between the States had just ended, and while President Lincoln had worked to heal the country and reunite it once again prior to his assassination, Travis wanted to get as far away from it as he possibly could.

The war had ravaged his small town, his state, and his country. It had divided the country and divided families. And far too many of his fellow countrymen had fallen in what to him, was a senseless waste of humankind. While Travis had worn a blue uniform and according to future historians would be on the winning side of the war, to him and many, many others, no one won this war.

As soon as he could, Travis put his house, his land, and practically all his personal belongings that he didn’t think he would need up for sale and once sold, took the money and boarded the first train headed west. He rode the newly laid rails as far west as they ran in that day ... to St Joseph, Missouri.

He spent a few days in St. Joseph before resuming his journey, this time by horseback. He had purchased three horses and some other supplies and headed west again. His goal was to reach Fort Laramie, the last US military outpost in the area that he wanted to settle in. He intended to get to that outpost, get the last supplies he needed there and continue on the last leg of his journey. It would take him several weeks to make the trip from St Joseph to Fort Laramie, but he hoped to be there in time to stock up on supplies and still get to the area he wanted to settle before it was too late in the year.

After six weeks of daily travel, he finally reached Fort Laramie at last. He rested there at the fort for a week, and had wanted to press on once he re-supplied. However, due to Indian troubles, he was advised not to proceed until the dispute had been settled. So despite his objections and plans, he was forced to stay at the fort for another month.

This setback threw his timeline all out of whack. By the time the Indian skirmishes were over, it was too late in the year to head up to his intended area. He would have to clear the land, build a cabin, stock it with firewood for the upcoming winter, lay in his winter’s meat, and a whole host of other chores that he simply didn’t have the time to do. So much to his dismay, he settled in at the fort to wait until spring.

During the winter, Travis had a lot of time on his hands so he pitched in and began helping around the fort. He befriended an old man who had lived as a trapper in the area for many years. However, he was getting on in years and wasn’t as able to get around as he used to. He taught Travis some of the things he would need to know to survive in the wilderness.

When Travis was younger, before the War, Travis’s father taught him how to live in the woods back in Tennessee. He had learned to hunt, fish and build a cabin. He had learned how to make a campfire and how to cook.

So he had a basic working knowledge of the wilderness survival. But this was not Tennessee and out here what you didn’t know would kill you! So Travis paid close attention to what the old man had to say. If he had lived this long out here, he must know something!

Shortly after he began helping the old man, he was sent to the fort’s trading post – a small mercantile shop that sold just about everything needed for life in the fort and surrounding area.

He was going for a few supplies that day that the old man needed but couldn’t bring back himself. Travis went into the trading post and rang the little bell on the counter. But instead of the crotchety old shopkeeper he expected (and was warned about), a beautiful, slim Indian girl appeared from around the corner.

“I help you?” she asked. She was a very pretty woman, about 5’4” tall and 116 lbs., with a shapely 32-22-33 figure, waist long dark brown hair, and hazel eyes. She spoke in broken English, but had enough of a command of it to make herself understood. She had obviously been taught enough by the shopkeeper that he felt comfortable leaving her alone to tend the trading post.

“W ... why yes!” he said, shocked at the woman’s appearance. “I am here to pick up some things for a friend.” He read her a short list of things he was sent for. The woman, who he found out later was named Running Fox, filled the order and when she was done, Travis handed her the money for the supplies and she took it smiling. He turned to leave and she said “You come back soon!” He turned back to get one last look at the girl – he definitely would be back!

Over the next few months, Travis learned a lot from the old man. And in return, he helped him do some of the things he was too old or too tired to do. One of these was to get supplies. So he had reason to visit the trading post several times.

Most of the time the shopkeeper was there, but on rare occasions he would be out delivering to other parts of the fort or some of the homesteads nearby outside the fort walls. It was these rare occasions that Travis liked the best, because it gave him a chance to talk to Running Fox.

Travis found the Indian woman fascinating and her broken English only served to make her all the more interesting. He wished he could spend more time with her, but she was always timid and nervous – and judging by how she acted when the shopkeeper was around, for good reason.

So he took whatever time and conversation he could get from her. After all, as soon as he could, he was leaving anyway and wouldn’t be back for a long time.

One particular day, Travis was at the trading post getting a few things, and the shopkeeper was away on a trip to the next fort down the line resupplying his storehouse. Travis was delighted – that would mean he could actually spend some time with Running Fox without her worrying about the shopkeeper coming back unexpectedly!

Travis told her what he needed to get, and she started to fill his order once again. But then he said he needed some flour and some sugar, and the quantity he needed was too heavy for Running Fox to lift. So she asked him to come around the corner and into the back to help her. She knew that no one was supposed to be back there, but she couldn’t handle the heavy bags herself.

Travis followed her back into the back of the storehouse, and she showed him the bags of flour and sugar he wanted. But in the privacy of the storehouse, somehow the sugar and flour didn’t seem that important. As Running Fox pointed out the items he was after, Travis placed his hand on the small of her back very gently. She turned to him smiling and then turned fully around to face him.

“Running Fox, you are very lovely,” he said. She smiled at him again and moved a bit closer. Travis, whose 6’ tall stature made him a full foot taller than her, leaned down slowly to her. He saw her eyes close and her lips reaching up to his own. He leaned in to kiss her and found her returning his kiss passionately.

His heart leapt! He wrapped his arms around the girl’s slim waist as she threw hers around his neck. They kissed for several long moments there in the dimly lit storehouse. Running Fox’s body felt so good pressed against his own. He could have held her there in that storehouse for hours.

But just as their passions were rising to a point that action would be needed, the little bell over the front door tinkled a warning. Running Fox quickly broke the kiss, not knowing if it was a customer at the counter or something much more serious, while Travis hid behind some boxes ready for anything. Fortunately it was just one of the low ranking soldiers there to get something for his superior. He was waited on and he left promptly. Running Fox went back to where Travis was but the moment was gone.

“I’d better go before we get caught and you get into trouble,” he said. She looked up at him sadly but she didn’t say anything. He was right and she knew it. If they were discovered, it could be bad for both of them.

Even though Running Fox wasn’t married to the shopkeeper (marriages to Indian women were rare, though living with them was common), infidelity with another man’s squaw was highly frowned upon. And for her, well let’s just say she had better not get caught! Travis left through the side door so he wouldn’t be so obvious and made his way back around to the old man’s cabin with his supplies.

He continued to go to the trading post as often as he could find a need to – just seeing her sweep the floors or stocking shelves was better than not seeing her at all. And she would always shoot him a sweet smile or a tender glance. On occasion, the shopkeeper was away from the store and they could talk for a few precious moments but there wasn’t another chance to hold each other like they had in the back of the storehouse that one special day.

Spring came early that next year and before long, Travis was getting ready to finally start the last leg of his journey to his homestead. He was looking forward to getting started on the property and to getting settled.

It had taken him much longer than he had originally planned, but he had learned some very valuable information while he had been at the fort. The old man not only taught him how to live in the wilderness that he would be in, but also how to converse with the local Indians and some of their culture and ways.

It would take him another three days of riding to get to his homestead site, so a couple days before he was due to leave Fort Laramie, he stopped by the trading post to pick up some more last minute supplies.

“Hello, Running Fox,” Travis said as he entered the shop. She just smiled at him as she stood behind the counter. He walked up to the counter and smiled back. Travis looked around for a moment “Is he here?” he whispered.

“No, he no here. But he be back soon,” she said with sad eyes.

“I need to get some supplies,” he said, taking out a piece of paper with a list of what he needed on it. He handed the list to the girl and she looked at it, as if it was written in Egyptian hieroglyphics!

“I can no read,” she said, giving the paper back to him.

“I will read it, then and you can get what I need,” he said. Running Fox smiled and nodded.

“First I will need...” and he started reading the items on his list. As he read them off, she would get what he said and bring it up to the counter. He would look over the items and make sure they were correct and move on to the next thing.

On occasion she would turn back to him and catch him watching her – he could hardly help himself. She was beautiful and graceful in her movements. It had been a long, long time since he had seen anything to compare to her. He was fascinated by how she carried herself.

“Now I need a good pair of boots. But I’m not sure what size,” he said, “Can you help me find a pair that fits?”

“Yes. I know how,” she said. She got a measuring stick from under the counter and walked around the end of the counter to stand next to him. She was considerably shorter than him, but she placed the stick on the floor and made him stand with his foot on it, measuring the length of his foot.

“Size 11,” she said, and went to go get the stepladder to retrieve the boots, which were on a high shelf. As she cautiously climbed the shaky ladder, Travis came over to help steady it. She had to stretch to reach the boots, even with the ladder and just as she got a grip on them, her foot slipped and she fell. Travis saw her start to fall and was able to catch her. She dropped the boots as she fell and they landed a few feet away. But Travis caught Running Fox before she fell to the floor.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling and blushing (yes even an Indian girl can blush!) as he let her down gently. Once she had composed herself again, she went back to getting what he needed to finish his list.

Once his list was finished and he had gotten everything he needed, he loaded it up on his horse to take it back to the cabin he had been staying at until he left in a couple days. He paid for the supplies and as she took the money from him, he took her hand for a moment.

“Are you sure you are all right? I didn’t hurt you when I caught you, did I?” he asked.

Running Fox smiled and shook her head. “No, I am fine. Thank you for holding me,” she meant catching her, but either way worked for him. She was nice to catch or to hold!

Finally, the day came that he was to leave for his homestead. Travis was all packed and the horses loaded as he started for the main gate. As he rode past the trading post, Running Fox was out front sweeping the wooden sidewalk. He smiled and tipped his hat at her and she coyly looked down. But she raised her face a second after to watch him ride out the main gate on his way.

He rode steady the whole day, not pushing his horses too hard, but not slacking up much either. He was in a hurry to make good time – the sooner he could get to his homestead site, the sooner he could get started! Along about sundown he had to stop though, and make camp for the night.

He made a fire and cooked himself up a small, but filling dinner and laid down next to the fire to sleep. He had been asleep for awhile when a sudden noise woke him suddenly. He reached for his rifle instinctively – something he had learned to do during the War and had carried over into this new wilderness life.

But as he reached for it, it wasn’t there! He jumped up and found himself face to face with an Indian with a knife! The Indian looked over to where his rifle laid, too far away for him to reach it before the Indian would jump him and slit his throat. He was caught dead to rights! He mentally kicked himself for being caught so easily – and on his first night alone to boot!

But then the firelight revealed something to him ... this was no Indian brave, but a woman! And she recognized him instantly too.

“Hello Travis Dillon,” she said. It was Running Fox! She had tracked him the whole day long and had come into camp because she was hungry. She was taking some food from the fire when she accidentally tipped the pot of stew enough for some of the liquid in it to spill into the fire and flare it.

She knelt down on the ground, placing her forehead to the ground in front of her and held the knife up over her head in a surrendering posture. He took the knife from her and she stayed kneeling and waiting for him to do whatever he wanted to her.

“Get up Running Fox. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. She raised her head and looked at him and smiled. He sat down in front of her as she knelt there.

“What are you doing here? How did you get here?” he asked.

“I follow you,” she replied matter of factly. “I follow your horse.”

“Why? Why aren’t you back at the fort where you belong?”

“Because I cannot. I kill.”

“You kill? What do you mean?”

That’s when Running Fox began telling him her whole story...

“Four snows ago, my village attacked by white soldiers. They kill many of my people. All men and many women and children. I hide in tall grass along river, but four white soldiers find me. They catch me and tie me. They take turns lay with me and when they done, they tear my leggings off and brand me here,”

She showed him an old scar where the soldiers had used a US cavalry branding iron to brand her left buttock. Travis was stunned at the sight of the terrible scar. Running Fox continued her story.

“After that, the four men bring me to white man’s fort and trade me to shopkeeper for whiskey. I stay with shopkeeper until now. But shopkeeper very bad man. He mean and hurt me too. He beat me very much.” Running Fox pulled her tunic up in back to show him the scars of her whippings at the shopkeeper’s hand.

“So when I see you in store, you very kind to Running Fox. When you leave, I was sad. Shopkeeper beat me again for not sweeping right and I kill him,” she made a gesture of cutting his throat, “Then I follow you here.”

So Running Fox had killed the shopkeeper! Well, that meant that she couldn’t go back to the fort ... they would hang her or shoot her for murdering him. And with the US brand on her buttock, she wouldn’t be accepted back into the Apache nation. And a woman, even an Indian woman, wouldn’t last for long in the wilderness alone. So Running Fox was in a fix ... she was literally a woman without a country!