By Kim Vogel Sawyer
Ostracized via her tribe due to her white father, Lizzie Dawson lives by myself within the mountains of Alaska, working towards the methods of her humans whilst she is living within the small cabin her father outfitted for her mom. She goals of reconciling together with her grandparents to meet her mother's loss of life request, yet she has now not but came across the way to bridge the distance that separate her from her tribe.Clay Selby has regularly desired to be like his father, a missionary who holds an exceptional love for the local humans and has introduced many to God. Clay and his stepsister, Vivian, arrive in Alaska to establish a church and college one of the Athbascan humans. Clay is completely fascinated by this goal...until he meets a tender, self reliant Indian girl with the main amazing blue eyes he is ever seen.But Lizzie is obviously now not a part of the tribe, and befriending her may have dire results for his project. Will Clay be compelled to select from his wish to minister to the natives and the quiet nudging of his center?
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He was just a missionary, and he couldn’t spare two dollars for a canoe ride. ” A frown furrowed the boy’s forehead. He inched backward, shaking his head. “Won’t do it for less’n six bits apiece. ” Clay sighed. He heaved to his feet, angling his shoulders to center the squeeze box on his back. “All right, then. ” The boy held out his hand. Clay removed the coin purse he wore on a cord beneath his shirt and withdrew a round silver dollar and two twenty-five-cent pieces. With a grin, the boy curled his fist around the coins.
He stroked the paddle through the green-blue water and the canoe glided away from the bank. ” They had ridden in silence for nearly half an hour. Vivian dozed, her head bobbing on Clay’s shoulder, but Clay had used the time to scrutinize the landscape of their new home. Rugged beauty greeted him from every angle, but he’d seen little that reminded him of Oklahoma—not that he’d expected to. But he’d searched anyway. Even one field bearing stalks of tassled corn would ease some of his homesickness and perhaps help put Vivian at ease.
If so, she was in for some rude surprises. Clay paused and examined the telling moss climbing a tree trunk. He adjusted his steps accordingly. “By the time you moved in with us, Pa and Ma had worked for several years to establish relationships with the Kiowa. So they accepted you as a part of our family without question. ” He frowned, voicing the same warning he’d given her before they’d left the reservation. “Setting up the mission school won’t be like hosting a tea party. It’ll take a lot of work and—” She held up her hand.