Read Online A Brother's Honor by Jo Ann Ferguson - Free Book Online
Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson
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shifted.
Each excruciatingly slow step demanded all her strength. Sweat lacquered her nightdress to her back. She did not dare to stop, fearing he would sink into the sand. She might never get him moving again.
âWake up, Dominic,â she repeated over and over. If he woke, then he could help her save him.
Although her breath seared beneath her ribs, Abigail kept moving until the grass at the edge of the strand slipped beneath her feet. She pulled Dominic beneath the trees and sat, cradling his head in her lap as she panted with exhaustion. Pressing her hand to her side, she kneaded it to ease the pain. An ache ran from her shoulders along her spine.
Dominic did not react when she lowered his head to the ground. Jumping to her feet, she plucked some ferns and ran back onto the beach. She swept away any signs that someone had been dragged off the sand.
More thunder cracked as she ran back to where he was lying. When lightning played across the sky, she pulled him toward some fallen trees that were piled atop one another. A legacy from another storm, she guessed, and hoped the trees would protect them now. With a tired groan, she wondered if he had gained weight since she had pulled him from the water. A crack of thunder spurred her.
Dragging him beneath the overhang of dead branches, she wished he would wake. All her hopes were useless. He was still senseless.
A few drops of rain struck her as she collected two pieces of wood from under the trees. She looked up, but no more rain fell. It must have been spray sent ashore by the rising wind. She bent her head and ignored it as she placed the wood along both sides of Dominicâs ankle to keep it immobilized and bound them together with another strip from his shirt.
Abigail froze with renewed horror when she heard voices not far from her. Was someone searching for survivors?
âThe storm will wash it all back out to sea before we get a chance to gather it.â The manâs disgust was clear.
âDonât fret,â said another man. âWhat the sea takes away tonight, sheâll wash back on the morrow.â
âBut if âtwas one of the kingâs ships, his men will be here to lay claim to every morsel.â
âWhoâs going to tell the kingâs men about this?â The second manâs laugh was swept away by thunder.
As the menâs voices vanished into the distance, Abigail fought not to scratch the itchy spot on the tip of her nose. It was harder to ignore than the burning along her arm where salt had gotten into the scratches left by Dandy when she had tossed her cat out of the shipâs window. She wondered where Dandy was now.
She could not look for him. She could only cower in the shadows and watch as dark forms hurried away from the strand. Their voices continued to drift to her as the men went along a path on the far side of the fallen trees. They were curious about why a ship had exploded just off their shore, but were more eager to discover what of her cargo would wash to them.
She shifted, then froze again when the branches around her rubbed together at her motion. No one slowed along the path. Shouts of excitement announced that some of the debris had reached shore and been gathered to take back to the village that must be farther inland.
How long had she been crouching here? Every muscle protested, and that blasted itch threatened to undo her.
Leaves rattled beside her. Just the wind or �
âDandy?â she whispered.
Abigail got no answer, but she saw his small prints in the mud beneath the trees. She flinched when a weak explosion tossed more debris across the water. One of the barrels of gunpowder must have washed away from the ship before detonating.
Inching back more deeply into the shadows, she could not halt her sneeze. Not moving, she waited for someone to follow the sound. Then she realized that the people were too interested in getting their prizes back to their homes before the
Each excruciatingly slow step demanded all her strength. Sweat lacquered her nightdress to her back. She did not dare to stop, fearing he would sink into the sand. She might never get him moving again.
âWake up, Dominic,â she repeated over and over. If he woke, then he could help her save him.
Although her breath seared beneath her ribs, Abigail kept moving until the grass at the edge of the strand slipped beneath her feet. She pulled Dominic beneath the trees and sat, cradling his head in her lap as she panted with exhaustion. Pressing her hand to her side, she kneaded it to ease the pain. An ache ran from her shoulders along her spine.
Dominic did not react when she lowered his head to the ground. Jumping to her feet, she plucked some ferns and ran back onto the beach. She swept away any signs that someone had been dragged off the sand.
More thunder cracked as she ran back to where he was lying. When lightning played across the sky, she pulled him toward some fallen trees that were piled atop one another. A legacy from another storm, she guessed, and hoped the trees would protect them now. With a tired groan, she wondered if he had gained weight since she had pulled him from the water. A crack of thunder spurred her.
Dragging him beneath the overhang of dead branches, she wished he would wake. All her hopes were useless. He was still senseless.
A few drops of rain struck her as she collected two pieces of wood from under the trees. She looked up, but no more rain fell. It must have been spray sent ashore by the rising wind. She bent her head and ignored it as she placed the wood along both sides of Dominicâs ankle to keep it immobilized and bound them together with another strip from his shirt.
Abigail froze with renewed horror when she heard voices not far from her. Was someone searching for survivors?
âThe storm will wash it all back out to sea before we get a chance to gather it.â The manâs disgust was clear.
âDonât fret,â said another man. âWhat the sea takes away tonight, sheâll wash back on the morrow.â
âBut if âtwas one of the kingâs ships, his men will be here to lay claim to every morsel.â
âWhoâs going to tell the kingâs men about this?â The second manâs laugh was swept away by thunder.
As the menâs voices vanished into the distance, Abigail fought not to scratch the itchy spot on the tip of her nose. It was harder to ignore than the burning along her arm where salt had gotten into the scratches left by Dandy when she had tossed her cat out of the shipâs window. She wondered where Dandy was now.
She could not look for him. She could only cower in the shadows and watch as dark forms hurried away from the strand. Their voices continued to drift to her as the men went along a path on the far side of the fallen trees. They were curious about why a ship had exploded just off their shore, but were more eager to discover what of her cargo would wash to them.
She shifted, then froze again when the branches around her rubbed together at her motion. No one slowed along the path. Shouts of excitement announced that some of the debris had reached shore and been gathered to take back to the village that must be farther inland.
How long had she been crouching here? Every muscle protested, and that blasted itch threatened to undo her.
Leaves rattled beside her. Just the wind or �
âDandy?â she whispered.
Abigail got no answer, but she saw his small prints in the mud beneath the trees. She flinched when a weak explosion tossed more debris across the water. One of the barrels of gunpowder must have washed away from the ship before detonating.
Inching back more deeply into the shadows, she could not halt her sneeze. Not moving, she waited for someone to follow the sound. Then she realized that the people were too interested in getting their prizes back to their homes before the
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