The vanished pieces of our history have always intrigued me as an author. Houses, towns, lives that were once so vital but now of which there is no trace left except in books and oral accounts. For The Maiden and the Mountie, tales about two vanished things caught my attention when I lived near Cumming, Georgia—a Cherokee removal fort and Cherokee gold. Local historians have long debated the location of Fort Buffington and legends of Cherokee gold hidden in tunnels with secret vaults and deadfalls…or buried in clay pots, some of which were reported to have been found.

The second book of my Twenty-Niners of the Georgia Gold Rush series is set during the fall and winter of 1837. Gold had been found in the late 1820s on Cherokee land, land which was then divvied up in a state lottery. Lottery winners prepared to move onto farming lots of a hundred and sixty acres or mining lots of forty acres. Much of that property already had “improvements”—homes, outbuildings, and businesses. The majority of the Cherokee people had “Americanized,” adopting the clothing, religion, language, and farming and business methods of their white neighbors. That did not stop property- and gold-hungry settlers from taking Native American land.

Some Cherokees moved to Oklahoma Territory before the May 1838 deadline set by the national government. Others lingered until the last, fed by rumors and hopes that the legal efforts of their leaders in Washington would succeed. Many of them endured harassment by Pony Club members. Eventually, the remaining Cherokees were rounded up by mounted militia, forced into hastily constructed removal forts, and escorted on the tragic winter march that became known as the Trail of Tears.

No doubt about it—this is grave subject matter. But wouldn’t writing a trilogy about the Georgia Gold Rush without including an account of the Cherokee Removal be an even graver disservice to the actual history and the proud people who endured it?

The Maiden and the Mountie focuses on the mixed-blood Cherokee family of the heroine, Anna Walker, whose father operates a gristmill—another setting unique to fiction but so vital to nineteenth-century communities. For this angle of the story, I was able to draw on my brief stint as a county employee when I spent some time as a docent at Freeman’s Mill in Gwinnett County. The hero, Gage Edmonds, yearns to live up to his father’s military record and at the same time defend the heritage of his Cherokee grandmother-by-marriage. The conflict he rides into as a member of the Georgia Mounted Militia constructing Fort Buffington in Cherokee County convinces him he can better serve the native people as a translator than a soldier. Defending Anna and her family from members of the Pony Club makes his quest even more personal. Little does he know the woman he’s falling in love with has been called on by her father’s people to help hide Cherokee gold.

Themes of The Maiden and the Mountie include finding one’s identity in God, friendship that spans social boundaries, the power of adopted family, and love that blooms amid the harsh winter of conflict. I hope you’ll join Anna and Gage in the tumultuous days of the Georgia Gold Rush and look for The Schoolmarm and the Miner coming later this year.