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The dirt was hard, and Moon was having a hard time.
"I imagine some of it was exaggerated but he was quite an explorer and settled a whole colony of people in Kentucky. He was quite a hero. And he got along with whites and Indians which is a feat few can accomplish."
"I love to read, you can find almost any adventure in books." She smiled.
After an hour of digging, and not getting anywhere, Moon stopped. "I can't get it any deeper and this isn't deep enough to keep the animals out."
"Maybe that's a good thing."
"What do you mean?" he frowned.
"Maybe if the animals dig him up, no one will ever know what really killed him."
Moon stared for a moment at her, then thought about what she said. "My God, that's genius. You are right." He got her to help him roll the man over to the grave and they tossed him in, then Moon went about putting a few rocks up around it. He had to stop when his arm started bleeding again.
She had him sit and she sat beside him and bandaged it once more. "You shouldn't have been doing that."
He shot her a sexy grin, "Yes little mother."
He was staring at her again, but not saying a word. He realized how brave she was, as brave as any squaw. He felt proud of her, she would make someone a fine wife. And why that bothered him, he didn't know, or he wouldn't acknowledge.
She finished the bandage and moved away.
"Not the best of graves, but perhaps it will do the job for us." He told her, as she stared at it.
"We should say something over him." She told him.
"A prayer?"
"Yes, a prayer." She nodded.
She remembered one her mother used to say, and when she finished Moon nodded. "Good."
She laid down and watched him move about restlessly.
"How's your arm now?"
"Sore, but it will mend."
"How much further to this Jack's place."
"Another couple of days we should be there."
"Good." She replied.
He glanced at her, "Did it bother you to kill him?" He asked in a soft voice.
"Not as much as it should have!" she grimaced.
"You would make a fine Indian squaw." He told her.
"Would I?" she smiled.
"Get some sleep."
His way of shutting her up every night. She closed her eyes and he stared for a long time at her. She was like no one he'd ever known. Complicated and yet simple. Beautiful and yet unaware.
His loins tightened as he glanced from her head of beautiful dark red hair to her booted feet. If she were only Indian, he would take her and make her his. But she was white, and she didn't belong to him. And he had to quit thinking like a white man.
