Gratefulness

Sam placed his Stetson in his hands, smiling in gratitude. His long, dark hair hung over his back.

He felt Mrs. King was much like his grandfather in many ways. Sam saw that she was much more open to change.

“I’d rather leave the artifacts alone. Undisturbed,” Sam confessed. It was the least he could do for his people. For his grandfather. And for the souls of those resting there. “Leave their spirits Rest In Peace.”

Although Mrs. King did seem to have a fire inside her, as his grandfather suggested, Sam also believed her to be a good businesswoman. She knew an opportunity when she heard or saw one.

“I am grateful for your wisdom,” Sam stated. “I will work alongside your other hands and follow their directions and your demands throughout the week. Whenever you are in need for a horse to be broken, I will be happy to do so. On weekends, I will camp in the ravine, sharing my findings with you.”

“Now,” Sam said as he bowed his head to her, “I will take my leave and get my Jeep and clothing from the reservation.”