The Comfort Of A Good Horse
Copyright 2013 Susan Hart
The hills of Tennessee is where beauty entangles with mystery, a place where secrets search out one another in hopes to once again come together, in order to expose what evil lies deep in the valleys and high in the mountain tops.
Every riverbed has its story as well as every high peak of a mountain, for it screams truth for those who wish to find it. This is a story of three generations of women, all related, all separated by circumstance and all full of grit and determination that we only wish we could possess.
When the mind owns this kind of strength, it has its own ways of leading others to embark upon circumstances and to reach out to discover what truth is and what’s lie.
Tennessee hills hold families and releases families. It ties together their strengths as well as their weaknesses, and in this story it is no different.
My name is just old Uncle Hank and I have lived in these parts all my life. My ancestors grew here long before any white man could take its claim. I come from a long line of very strong Indians called the Chickasaws.
My Pa raised me Indian and meant to keep me that way. Although much of our tribes, as well as other tribes were ran out of lands long ago, we still remain, some of us more hidden than others. We still exist and we still pass on to generations to come our traits and secrets. Yes, we were forced to leave much of our lifestyles, and take jobs with the rest, but our legacy lives on and this is a story of women who fought battles to reclaim what was theirs.