Pocahontas and the Reluctant Brave

 

BLURB

 

Loosely based on the fairytale – Pocahontas.

Atalia “Pocahontas” Sweetwater is a savvy lawyer.

She is determined to better the life of her people, particularly the women.

She is loyal to the Howlani Indian tribe and proud of her ancestry.

Her father is Chief, she is a Princess.

Justus ‘Whitecloud’ Rivers is also a talented lawyer.

He is a man who likes to defend white men over Indians.

A man bitter about his past and his half caste ancestry.

A man who wants nothing to do with the Howlani or any other Indian tribe.

Then, he encounters Pocahontas and the world as he knows it is turned upside down.

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EXCERPT

(C) Susan Horsnell 2019

Dual POV

Atalia (Pocahontas) POV.

***********

After Clyde left, I put together the paperwork for his custody case and walked them across the street to the court. I wanted to get the matter settled as quickly as possible so he could get on with his life without the constant worry.

Meredith Casey, one of the clerks, accepted the paperwork and raised her eyebrows.

“This one is going to be messy.”

“What do you mean?” I wondered what she knew that I didn’t.

“Sharon’s lawyer lodged her paperwork about an hour ago and from what I read, she’s going to be a real bitch.”

“Who’s representing her?”

“Justus Rivers.”

“For fuck sake. Justus Whitecloud is going to use his hatred of his own people against a man who is doing the right thing?”

“Looks that way. What’s his story anyway? Why is there so much hate? I’ve heard a few versions about how the tribal elders turned his mother out when they found out she was carrying a white man’s baby. I guess times were different back then and interracial fraternization wasn’t accepted.”

“Honestly? I don’t think anyone knows the real story except Justus and his mother. I asked, but the elders said it was none of my business and if he or his mother wanted me to know, they would tell me themselves. Problem is, Justus won’t give me, or anyone else from the res, the time of day. Word is the hatred runs both ways between him and some of the braves, but it’s a mystery – those who know aren’t talking. I’ve tried asking my aunt, even my father – being the Chief he would know, but they’re tight lipped also. Meanwhile, Justus seems to like to provoke them by taking cases of white men over his own people.”

“It’s a shame, so much bitterness in such a handsome specimen of a man.”

“Maybe one day someone will spill. I’ll catch up later.”

I left the building and crossed the street, heading toward my ground floor office. I pondered again, what the real story could be. I was still deep in thought when I crossed the threshold into the waiting room of my office. I was jerked from my daydreaming by a deep, husky voice coming from behind me.  It sent electricity type bolts shooting through me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

“Miss Sweetwater.”

His voice was like a fine whiskey – aged, with a touch of roughness. I spun around so fast my feet fell over themselves and I smacked into a broad and very hard chest. His arms wrapped around me to keep me from falling. Lifting my head, I gazed into dark gray eyes which danced with mirth at my dilemma, despite the frown on his face. I extricated myself from his hold and stepped back.

“Sorry, Mr. Whitecloud.”

“Rivers.”

“Sorry?”

“Rivers, I don’t use that other name.”

“Oh. You wanted something from me?”

Talk about a loaded question. I felt my face flush with embarrassment as he ran his eyes over the length of my body.

“Not interested in your type, but if you have a few minutes to spare from your busy schedule, I would like to discuss something professional with you.”

My type? My type! How dare he! The arrogant sonofabitch. I felt my hackles rise and anger surged through me. I reminded myself to remain professional even if he didn’t. I did however lower myself to his level by perusing his body before answering.

He was taller than most men I’d encountered and I reached only to his shoulder. I judged him to be somewhere in the middle of six to seven feet, he would have made a good basketball player. Broad shouldered, his arm muscles bulged beneath the confines of his shirt. His waist tapered in, his hips narrow. I swallowed hard, having an inappropriately vivid image of the v muscles leading down to what I pictured as a deliciously long, thick cock. I stepped back. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was ogling a man with a known hatred for Indians and I was a full-blooded native. Still, I couldn’t resist returning my eyes to his handsome face – his nose was neither small or large, his jaw strong. Thick, pouty lips and fuck, he was smiling like he knew what I’d been thinking. I didn’t know teeth could be so white and perfect. His skin was olive in color and his jet black hair lay loose around his shoulders – there was no doubt this man has been blessed with a large dose of Indian blood.

Justus cleared his throat and my eyes snapped to his.

“Are you done with eye fucking me?”

“Just getting to know you in the same way you did me a few moments ago. I’m not interested either. Now, we’re both done, what did you want to speak to me about?”

“Can we talk in your office?”

“I glanced at the watch on my wrist. I had nothing on for the rest of the afternoon but he didn’t need to know that. I turned toward Bridie – my receptionist, confidante, best friend and life saver. She’d pulled me out of shit on so many occasions I’d lost count. “Please let me know when my next appointment arrives, Bridie. This shouldn’t take long.” I returned my attention to Justus. “This way Mr. Whitecloud.”

“Rivers!”

“Of course, sorry.” I led him through the doorway to my office, a smirk on my face.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I live in sunny Queensland, Australia and retired after 37 years of Nursing.

My husband of 44 years, together with our elderly Jack Russell Terrier and extremely opinionated 26-year-old Cockatiel, enjoy exploring the country with our caravan.

When we are at home, we spend our time renovating our home.

I write a variety of stories including Western Historical Romance, Contemporary Romance, Male/Male, Menage and Shapeshifter.

Each book has a strong focus on story line with romantic interest building throughout.

I explore real life issues from kids on the streets to motorcycle war and put my own twist on each one.

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