Happy Thanksgiving week to all of my American friends and welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. As you know, each week, a small group of authors post a scene from their current work in progress. This week, each post cannot exceed 400 words and is based on the word Thanksgiving. Since I’ve returned to The Price of Courage, Book Two of the Canadiana Series, and the holiday didn’t exist in 1668, it took some creative thinking to figure out how to use it. So, it’s back to Lucien and the gang.
Enjoy!
A hand on his shoulder startled Lucien awake, and he reached for the knife under his pillow.
“Rioux was not this wary out on the trail,” Okwaho said, moving out of reach.
“That’s because I knew I was surrounded by friends.” Lucien sat on the side of the bed. “Did you see anything?”
“I found the goat and her kid,” Okwaho continued. “The wolves got them next to the perimeter fence. They barely left enough for me to identify them.”
Lucien nodded, silently cursing the men once more. He got up. “I’d hoped the animals had somehow escaped.”
The taciturn Mohawk nodded. “I came across a flock of turkeys near where I found the animals. There’s one hanging from the rafters now. Tomorrow I will dress it, and we will have a feast to thank the Great Manitou for using us to rescue the woman and her children. Such gifts are to be appreciated.”
“It won’t be a thanksgiving prayer I’ll utter,” Lucien said, clenching his fist. “It will be an ardent plea for the strength I will need not to tear those men limb from limb when I find them.”
“Maybe Mother Earth will take care of them for us. If they do not store their goods well, they will have the wolves and cats following them.”
Lucien nodded. “But we still have a problem. I promised Huguette that I would take care of her and the children, but we can’t spend the winter here, nor can we leave them. She’ll need a midwife soon enough. Unfortunately, the longer we wait, the closer she comes to her time. The walk to the Montagnais village is impossible for her with a damaged ankle, and we cannot carry her.”
“But we can,” the Mohawk said, his voice confident. “ I will build a travois like my people do to move the ill and the infirm. It will take me a couple of days, but there are many green saplings in the woods I can bend and shape. If we mount it on the wooden sledges I found in the ceiling in the tanning shed, it will skim over the snow. We should make the village in one day’s long walk.”
Lucien grinned. “That is an excellent idea, mon ami. Now pray to your Great Spirit that the weather breaks for us.”
That’s it. Don’t forget to check out all the other posts on Tuesday Tales.
Living the Dream 
Oh, how wonderful he thought of a travois and knows how to make one! I’m so relieved they will protect her as she grows near her time.
Excellent way to use Thanksgiving in your historical story snippet. A fascinating read, as usual.
I love Lucien’s concern for Hugette and how much he wants vengeance for the men who hurt her.
I really hope he gets his happy ending!
It will-eventually.