Strangely, Margaret understood where the irritated Indian was coming from because she had suffered so much under the indigenous culture that held all slaves as property to be tolerated only because of their value for the labor.“Oh, great warrior, I only mean to inform you that despite your numbers, you are outgunned because we have the new repeating rifles, and you only have the outdated muskets handed down from your forebears.”The deeply tanned Indian virtually shook with restrained rage at the white squaw’s words. He was smart enough to understand the implication of her words. Her logical reasoning only served to ignite his short fuse ready to wreak havoc on the small party of invading settlers daring to touch his mother Earth with their dirty wagon wheels.He raised his French and Indian war long gun and didn’t quite get it into firing position when Margaret blasted him out of his saddle with a single shot from her brand new Remington given to her by the mountain man with his. Miller, I hadn’t realized that you were even interested in me. I didn’t know that I would even be your type.” “Oh, you mean young, beautiful, tall, curvy women, with amazing lips, and, pardon me, an ass and hips that won’t quit..? Please inform me what’s not to like.” I looked down and blushed. “You’re much too kind, Dr. Mill...” he stopped me putting his finger over my lips. “Please, Grace, that’s dreadful. Call me, George. Also, I’m not 'too kind' I’m just telling the truth,” he said matter-of-fact-ily while leaning his head into mine with his hands still on my face. I lean forward and into his palms. His soft pink lips brushed over mine. Yet, with such a soft touch I felt electric between us. Placing my hands behind his head I intensify the kiss when my phone goes off. I know the “get to your next class” alarm all too well. I break the kiss and drop my arms. “I’m sorry, George.” I took a second to stifle through my giggle as I say it out loud for the first time, “I have other.
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