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John here...

"Lucy loped up from behind, hair wild and flopping out from under her old slouch hat, her elbows flying like a damned banshee, and she was a flogging that sorry little excuse of a horse into an all out run. She was smiling as she flew past me, her eyes dancing, and joyful laughter was a bubbling from her. The kind of joy that carries on the wind, and can be heard a mile away. The kind a damned little Indian pony shouldn’t evoke. All I could manage was to stare at her, and listen. It reminded me of when the meadowlarks return in the spring announcing their intentions to start all over again. Of how their melodies awaken the cold plains from winter slumber. She hadn't laughed in months,. Not since the beatin ordeal."

"Then she yelled back at me, "I believe I'll call him "Five Card." After all, you won him in a poker game, didn't you, John Logan?" She always called me Logan when she figured I'd been up to something. I couldn't help but grin at her. And then I flung my damned empty right sleeve in the air and we raced and we laughed. And we both forgot our troubles."

“My God, Lucy you are laughing.” I said softly. "So are you John, so are you."


Excerpt from the Historic Novel by Dawn Newland


The life and times of Lucy Tressler / Thornhill (1865 - 1937)

Join me at the Tri-Sate Museum in Belle Fourche, SD

10 AM February 1st, 2020

First Saturday Brunch

I will be speaking on the art of researching Historic Non Fiction and will be reading from the novel. Dawn

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