Born into a society tolerant of homosexuals, River Otter is confused by the white culture’s persecution of such men. As the war begins to wind down, Otter leaves the only home he has ever known to help Major James Morrow, commandant of Ft. Yanube, build a farm north of the fort. He begins a new life with the handsome major while coming to grips with growing hostility toward natives and rising danger from a local militia bent on eliminating all bloods from the territory.<br><br>As his physical attraction for the blond soldier slowly grows into a love perilous to both of them, Otter is distracted by personal challenges. As he struggles to survive the social and political upheaval sweeping the plains, can remain true to his own set of values?

River Otter

Both were apple-cheeked, as was appropriate to their name, and shy. Curtis was a fair man burning brown beneath the prairie sun. His wife was quite pretty when compared to his ordinariness. An uncle already established in New York City had paid their passage from London, but in the hard times following the war, their presence had been a burden, so they immigrated west.


Crow was a man not yet thirty whose dark Absaroka features arranged themselves in a pleasing way. He was fit and finely muscled, again reminding me of a warrior rather than a farrier and horse tender. His father had been a scout at Fort Ramson until he retired and returned to his native hills. Crow remained behind because he had never known the old country. He spoke some Lakota, and Matthew regularly addressed him in that tongue until Mary called him down for the practice. It wasn’t polite to exclude others from the conversation, she claimed, which was not the real reason for her objection, of course.


Chapter 91