**Author's Note and Disclaimer: A fair amount of research went into developing this series. Historical records for the North Georgian Cherokee tribes' day-to-day life between 1720-1730 are spars, so I'm not claiming perfection. I wanted to explore what native life was like before European ideologies heavily influenced their culture. My goal was accuracy, but in the end, this story is fiction/fantasy and meant for entertainment. All the characters, their actions, and their values are from my imagination and do not directly represent modern or historical Cherokee values despite the similarities.**
-----
A New Family
Cabin life with Aimon Sky was blissful compared to my old life. My injured leg was healing fast, but I struggled to keep up with Sky's training regimen. You heard me correctly. Sky, my silent hero, was training me in every fighting and hunting technique he knew, and he knew a lot, thanks to the Cherokee. How is that blissful? Well, Sky constantly showered me with affection. He valued me like an important human being, and he invested in our future while keeping our combined happiness in mind. He made me feel appreciated, wanted and loved, and I did the same for him.
My old life was defined by abuse and neglect. My mother and I could have thrived had my father not constantly mistreated us, leaving us weak and dispirited. After my mother died, my father and his extended family treated me like property. No consideration was ever given to my long-term health, happiness, or comfort. My value stemmed from what my father, Oscar Clemons, could trade me for. He arranged for me to wed our neighbor, Jed Barton, in exchange for a sizable piece of farmland. Jed was a lot like my father, but ten times more violent. My father didn't care what Jed did to me as long as he was paid. My brother, Allen, had married and established his own farm to the west of our father's land. Allen was my father's pride and joy. I was expendable, so I fled into the wilderness and almost died. Sky rescued me and made me feel human again. He was my new life.
My mother died of lung disease when I was twelve. On her deathbed, she told me to think more of myself and bide my time until I could run away. She told me some men actually cared for the women that gave them life and risked their lives to give them families. Men like Sky and Eagle were examples of that. But some men, men like my father, turn against the person that first loved them, the very womb that labored to bring them into the world. My father cared nothing about his own mother. Grandma Rene was a sweet woman. I loved her dearly when I was a child. After she and my mother passed, all the love went out of my life. My mother said Father hated to admit that he owed his existence to a woman. That simple, fundamental truth hurt his pride, so he used his strength to dominate the "weaker" creature that selflessly loved and cared for him. Mother said men like my father falsely believed strong women caused chaotic households. I can tell you from experience that my father led a shitty, chaotic household, especially after my mother died.
I was finally free from that poor excuse of a family. I would never willingly go back after the bliss I experienced with Aimon Rosemoor, or Sky, according to the local Cherokee. Eagle said Aimon's eyes reflect heaven, and I couldn't agree more. Sky was a silent angel, and I was determined to make him as happy as he made me. It was a joy to love him.
My training centered around archery, ax throwing, knife throwing, blow darts, firearms, and speed-of-hand until my leg healed. Shooting practice was my least favorite. It was noisy and unpleasant, but I was proud that I knew how to load, aim, and fire Sky's rifle and flintlock pistol. To strengthen my leg, I stood and limped as often as possible. Running was too painful. Eagle figured I needed three more weeks of healing before I could run again. My arm strength was improving. Darts, knives, and shooting were easy after the first two weeks of practice.
Weapon training was the strangest and funnest thing I had ever done. It gave me confidence in my own strength. Eagle's future bride, Agasga, or Rain, was the first woman warrior I had ever met. Her clan was mostly farmers, but sometimes members showed talents in other areas and were encouraged to pursue them. It didn't matter that Rain was female. Her tribe honored and respected her as a talented human being. She was stunning and fierce, and I wanted to be just like her. Rain and I would slowly practice hand-to-hand combat until my leg began to throb, then we would sit together in the snowy yard and watch Sky and Eagle fight like wild men.
Watching Eagle charge at Sky with a tomahawk scared me to death at first, but Sky always blocked the attacks and went on the offensive. Wolf, Eagle's younger cousin and spirit brother, would join the men for training a few times a week. Eagle wanted Wolf to improve his English. He told him to practice speaking with Rain and me in between fights. Rain's English wasn't as refined as Eagle's, but she was making a solid effort to speak without a native accent. Rain and Eagle often ate supper at the cabin. Afterward, I would teach them English letters. On rare occasions, Wolf and Rain's younger sister, Ayita (First to Dance), would join us for writing lessons. Wolf and Ayita didn't take the lessons as seriously as Eagle and Rain.
As I healed, Sky allowed me to do more work and cooking. We taught each other our favorite recipes. Sky would hunt in the mornings as I prepared lunch. Eagle and Rain would visit almost every other day and always in the afternoons. Sometimes Wolf and Ayita came with them. February brought frequent snowstorms. My walking was improving, so Rain helped me make a pair of snowshoes. They were a tremendous help during morning chores. Walking on top of the snow was less painful than treading through snowbanks. Sky and Eagle's latest training session was in knee-deep snow. Rain, Wolf, Ayita, and I were sitting on logs around a cooking fire as we laughed at them wrestling in the western field by the cabin. They would disappear into the snow after every tackle.
"Does your tribe usually train this much?" I asked Rain.
"Sometimes. Sky wants to be stronger for you, Snow," she smiled, making her dark eyes sparkle.
"Snow" was my name among the Cherokee, thanks to Wolf. Wolf had seen my naked breasts through Sky's cabin window, then he described my "Snowy Hills" to Eagle and got in trouble for peeking. I was an outsider at that point, and Eagle understood the prudish nature of the white men and their women. Eagle had a good heart like Sky, so he made the younger native apologize to me, but my new name stuck, and I honestly didn't mind. Sky declared me Haley Snow instead of Haley Clemons in one of his written messages, and I had loved the name ever since.
"This sign yours, Snow," Wolf said in his choppy English.
I gave the young native my full attention. Rain told me Wolf was nineteen-winters old, but compared with Eagle's and Sky's stature and broad shoulders, he seemed much younger. Wolf held out his hands with his fingers pointing down, then he moved them down and into a loop. It reminded me of blowing snow swirling away from the cabin.
"I see. I like that," I nodded.
"That's not the sign you use when you speak of Snow at home," Rain scolded, causing a chuckle from Ayita.
"Wait, you use signs in your village?" I asked in surprise.
"All the time. Some elders don't hear good. Also, different tribes speak different languages, but our hand signs are the same. We can speak to other tribes about the sun, moon, stars, wind, and rain," she said as she demonstrated her words with her hands.
I gasped when I realized Sky had been making similar signs with his hands when he pointed things out to me. They were so intuitive I didn't realize the motions represented words.
