Scarred: Western Romantics Series * by Jessie Rose Case

This is a Happily Ever After Hot Romantic Fictional Historical Western Saga. In the Western Romantics Series.

NOTE TO READERS: If you love the work of Anna Hackett and Eve Langlais you will love this. A historical fiction fantasy Novel.

A Native American Indian & American young woman romance set in the 1890's. Filled with hot sex, strong dominant men and a sexy female who knows how to hold her own. It’s gritty, confrontational and steam will be coming out of your ears. If you’re looking for something to get those juices flowing, you just found it. Enjoy!

Mainly in British English, with Americanisms and slang from both languages.

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She wasn’t sure how she’d survived exactly.

That was never clear to her. And she couldn’t remember much of her early life at all.

And if she tried, just like her dream, all she could smell was burning and gunpowder, feel the heat licking at her skin and hear the screams.

Her hand automatically going to the burnt healed skin at her neck. Her arm carried the scars, as did the left side of her chest and neck. She tried to hide it as much as possible, but she knew it was there.

The high neck collars and full-length sleeves helped but there was a lick of it across the side of her hand and wrist that showed when she was working or forgot to pull it down and although she’d added trimmings to all her collars and sleeves making them higher and longer, they did not cover it all.

She hated when someone noticed them. The questions in their eyes, then the pity.

She hated the pity the most.

She’d survived that was all that mattered.

It was the pain that she remembered most.

The searing heat burning around her and into her skin. Her voice raw from the screaming. Her mother no longer there. She couldn’t remember what happened to her father. And then there was nothing but hazy images.
Being carried away. Someone holding her. The voice trying to soothe her. The cold. Freezing water. Her body being held but submerged in the cold. Chilling the heat from her skin. Over and over again. Through the darkness, then the day, then the darkness again. Time passed by the setting of the sun until her pain lessened and her skin was coated in cooling green.

She didn’t remember who saved her.

Didn’t know who it was.

*****

15 Years was a long time.

He watched the young woman from some distance. It had been 3 months since he’d last passed this way. He never went too near. Just enough to see her. To know she was well and lived. These last couple of years she’d grown into a woman. For several months after he’d left her with the kind English he’d stayed around in case they’d turned out to be less honorable than they seemed.

But they’d been good to her. Taken her in and made her family.

Her wounds healing completely. But she was badly scared he knew that.

In the early days as a child, they were covered, moisture added to her skin to stop the pulling. They’d taken the hint from the green moss poultice he’d made. And what he’d left with her. And in time, the bright unusual coloured hair that had burnt away on that side had grown back. She’d been lucky that the flames and heat hadn’t burnt her face. It was close but he’d got to her in time.

Not that he should have been there.
He’d come across the outcasts when hunting. Heard their intent to attack the wagons. No time to go to the tribe and inform his father. Instead, he’d followed. Running, to them being on horseback. He’d seen them cresting a hill and attacking. The wagons on fire and them riding off.

He had been 14 years old and there was no way he could have stopped a war party bent on killing but still, it lay heavy on him in that moment. And made his way down quickly as they’d left, hoping he might be able to help someone.

And then heard her screams....