Praise for Walks Alone
“Compelling and heartfelt, Walks Alone is an extraordinary novel of hope, faith, and forgiveness in the great American west as cultures collide and a way of life fades forever. Author Sandi Rog is to be commended for her deft handling of one of history’s most heart-rending events, weaving a story of love and redemption in the midst of unimaginable tragedy and loss. An absolute treasure of history and heart!”
Laura Frantz
author of Courting Morrow Little and The Colonel’s Lady
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“In vivid, colorful tones, Rog brings a fading Cheyenne world to life, creating an Old West that is both familiar and unusual to lovers of historical romance. Walks Alone contrasts the abrasive reality of an ancient nation in its final hour with the tender passion of a warrior for his captive. It’s an irresistible love story that, alongside the knowledge of what brought the noble Cheyenne to their knees, will live long in the reader’s heart.”
April Gardner
best-selling author of Wounded Spirits
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“Walks Alone is a story that took me from the New York harbor to the mountains of Colorado, and I enjoyed every step of the way. Ms. Rog pens a tale full of emotion and conflict with characters so relatable I was sorry to see it come to an end. I will definitely be looking for more of her works. This is a story I’m happy to recommend!”
Lynnette Bonner
Author of Rocky Mountain Oasis, High Desert Haven, and Fair Valley Refuge
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“Ms. Rog delivers in shining a light on the Cheyenne tribe in this masterpiece. If only the teachers taught history like this in school! The setting, not to mention the characters, both vividly portrayed in this story, will transport the reader back in time. Walks Alone is a beautiful tale of love, hardship, forgiveness, and hope, along with a dose of acceptance. No matter what we’ve done, or how far we’ve run, Ma’heo’o’s (God’s) outstretched arms are always there, ready and willing to forgive us. Beautifully done.”
Deborah K. Anderson
monthly columnist for Christian Fiction Online Magazine
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“Walks Alone is a novel you will tell your friends they must read because it will open their eyes and touch them deeply. I highly recommend this book as a book club pick; it will start rich conversations and so much more!”
Nora St. Laurent
founder of The Book Club Network
Sandi Rog
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or used fictitiously.
WALKS ALONE
Copyright © 2012, Sandi Rog
All rights reserved. Reproduction in part or in whole is strictly forbidden without the express written consent of the publisher.
Published in eBook format by WhiteFire Publishing
WhiteFire Publishing
13607 Bedford Rd NE
Cumberland, MD 21502
Converted by http://www.eBookIt.com
ISBN-13: 978-0-9834-5564-6
To my sisters, Kelli and Charis
Dear Readers,
I’m originally from Colorado and recently moved back to the States after living in Holland for thirteen years. But it took moving to the other side of the world to discover the truth about my home state and what happened to the Cheyenne Native American tribe, along with the Arapaho and Lakota tribes and other Nations, on the morning of November 29, 1864. This incident is known today as the Sand Creek Massacre.
Most of the events in this story related to Colorado’s shameful past are true and accurate according to history—the massacre and its details (e.g. the toddler on the banks of Sand Creek), the popular saying in Denver “nits make lice” (a saying that made it acceptable for soldiers to murder innocent children), and some of Anna’s words and experiences when she’s abducted (taken from other white women who were abducted).
Cheyenne Chief Laird Cometsevah (a.k.a. Whistling Eagle) has approved Walks Alone’s accuracy and is touched that a part of his tribe’s culture and history is being told. While the Sand Creek Massacre is a disturbing event, I hope to not only give the Cheyenne tribe a voice, but to shine light on the hearts of these people.
Although my main character, White Eagle (a.k.a. Jean-Marc) is fictional, you’ll notice he comes strikingly close to resembling the real man George Bent (a.k.a. Beaver), half-breed son of William Bent, frontier tradesman. George Bent was educated in white schools, fought in the Civil War, was at Sand Creek during the massacre, and then became a Dog Soldier and fought in the Indian Wars. His father was a Christian and his mother was a Cheyenne native, and he struggled between their two beliefs. It’s because of George Bent that we are able to know not only the historical accounts of the Cheyenne, but also their cultural practices.
Come with me now as you read a story of forgiveness and love, unleashed in a world of misunderstanding and hate.
Sincerely,
Sandi G. Rog
Prologue
November 29, 1864
Sand Creek, Colorado Territory
A drop of blood warmed his finger, and crimson stained the white snow as Jean-Marc bound three dead rabbits together. “Sorry to kill you, my friends, but Mother and Grandmother need to eat.”
He tied the knot fast and rubbed his hand along the soft fur. The skins would make a good muff for Grandmother this winter. He’d seen many white women wear them; they looked warm, and his heveškemo deserved the best.
He picked up the rabbits and added them to the other two he’d already tied together.
Running Cloud trudged around a thick cottonwood with his latest kill, a prairie dog, hanging at his side. “The chief has trained you well.” He nudged with his chin toward the game Jean-Marc caught. “He’ll smile on your success.”
“You didn’t do so badly yourself.” Jean-Marc gave an exaggerated wave toward the fowl and two rabbits dangling over his friend’s back. They hadn’t found any deer or antelope, but what they did find was better than nothing. Jean-Marc’s father would soon arrive from Denver City with supplies. Until then, he had to find other means to survive.
Running Cloud stomped through the snow toward him.“Do you think Gray Feather will be impressed?”
Jean-Marc chuckled and slapped his shoulder. “Take them to her father’s lodge and see.” Of course, they both knew Running Cloud’s current offering was meager compared to the young buffalo he’d delivered to their lodge just four moons ago.
“And which woman do you plan to impress?”
Jean-Marc smiled. “My mother.”
Black Bear stepped high through a powdery snow bank, carrying game over his shoulder. Twenty winters out of his mother’s womb and a seasoned warrior, he wore the clothes of a brave with his tanned leggings, knee-high moccasins and silver armbands over his fringed buckskin shirt.
If only Jean-Marc could wear the silver armbands of a