Apache Dream Bride — Joan Elliott Pickart

THE MAN ON THE BEDROOM FLOOR . . .
was straight out of Kathy Maxwell's dream. But she could only stare at the lone Apache, wearing nothing but formfitting buckskins and a scowl, who rose to stand at the foot of her bed. "I am Dakota," he said. "Why have you brought me to this strange place?"
Kathy was astonished at the sight before her. Somehow during the night the Native American dreamcatcher that hung above her bed had snuck into her sleep, stolen her dream man out of the 1870s and transported him here, into her present-day bedroom!
Gee Whiz, what was a twentieth-century girl to do?