Read Online Lorraine Heath by Always To Remember - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Always To Remember
Ads: Link
their small camp.
Hunkered down before the crackling fire, Clay removed their dinner from the spit. Sitting opposite him, Meg leaned against the tree. She hadn’t realized how dark it had grown until she watched the writhing flames create dancing shadows across Clay’s features. He’d removed his hat, and the firelight waltzed across the white hair at his temples.
“I thought I was going to die,” she said quietly in a quivering voice. “I can’t seem to stop shaking.”
“You just need to think about something else. You might try looking at the sky and counting the stars.”
She gazed at the cloudless black heavens where a full moon glowed brightly. Beyond it, the stars winked. “How many stars do you think there are?”
“Couple of million, I reckon.”
Drawing up her legs, she wrapped her arms tightly around them in an effort to stop her trembling. She pressed her chin against her knees. “I didn’t realize you were such an expert with a rifle.”
“Haven’t missed a target since I was twelve.”
“Just think about how many Yankees you could have killed if you hadn’t been a coward.”
His somber gaze met hers. “I did think about it, Mrs. Warner. I thought about it long and hard.”
Picking up a tin plate, he stood. “Help yourself to what’s left.” He walked to the wagon, dropped to the ground, and pressed his back against the wheel. Rolling to one hip, he dug a small rock from beneath him and hurled it across the clearing.
Meg jumped when the rock hit a tree, and a sharp crack rent the still night air. She removed her hat and flattened it against her face, inhaling deeply so she wouldn’t have to smell the aroma of cooked rattlesnake. The hat carried Kirk’s fading scent, and she knew a time would come when the hat would smell more of her than it did of him. Until that time, it served as a reminder of the comfort he’d always brought her. When he’d left, she’d slept with his silly hat pressed beneath her cheek.
“Do you want me to try and find you something else to eat?”
Meg jerked the hat away from her face. Clay was crouching before her, his gaze riveted on the fire.
“No, I don’t think anything would stay down just yet.”
“Your stomach will settle by morning. I’ll see to it you have something proper to eat then.” He tossed a log on the fire, and orange sparks shot up. “You can sleep in the wagon tonight.”
Using the tree for support, she pushed to her feet. She gripped the bark and forced the hated words past her lips. “Thank you.”
He looked up, and she could see the confusion in his eyes. “For killing the rattler,” she explained.
He nodded slightly and stirred the fire. On wobbly legs, she walked to the wagon and climbed into the back. Clay had spread several blankets across the wagon bed. She placed a wadded blanket beneath her head as she stretched out and brought another blanket over her aching body.
The night sky was so clear, she felt as though she should be able to touch the twinkling gems that graced the heavens and filled them with tranquillity. She wished she could find a measure of that peace within herself.
She wondered if Kirk had hoped to convince Clay to go with the other men that final day in Cedar Grove. Was that why he had joined Clay on the edge of town? If so, disappointment had ridden at his side, not his friend.
She wondered if he regretted all the years he’d spent in friendship with a man who would one day betray him, a man too cowardly to march where honor dictated.
She was certain that pride had caused him to shake Clay’s hand that final morning. He had embraced Clay not to say good-bye to a friend, but to whisper farewell to a friendship.
A soft gentle scratching distracted her from thoughts of retribution. She imagined a small animal scurrying along the ground, foraging for food, stopping to sniff the air, then pouncing on a pecan or moving the dried leaves aside to search out a tasty morsel.
She eased up to her
Hunkered down before the crackling fire, Clay removed their dinner from the spit. Sitting opposite him, Meg leaned against the tree. She hadn’t realized how dark it had grown until she watched the writhing flames create dancing shadows across Clay’s features. He’d removed his hat, and the firelight waltzed across the white hair at his temples.
“I thought I was going to die,” she said quietly in a quivering voice. “I can’t seem to stop shaking.”
“You just need to think about something else. You might try looking at the sky and counting the stars.”
She gazed at the cloudless black heavens where a full moon glowed brightly. Beyond it, the stars winked. “How many stars do you think there are?”
“Couple of million, I reckon.”
Drawing up her legs, she wrapped her arms tightly around them in an effort to stop her trembling. She pressed her chin against her knees. “I didn’t realize you were such an expert with a rifle.”
“Haven’t missed a target since I was twelve.”
“Just think about how many Yankees you could have killed if you hadn’t been a coward.”
His somber gaze met hers. “I did think about it, Mrs. Warner. I thought about it long and hard.”
Picking up a tin plate, he stood. “Help yourself to what’s left.” He walked to the wagon, dropped to the ground, and pressed his back against the wheel. Rolling to one hip, he dug a small rock from beneath him and hurled it across the clearing.
Meg jumped when the rock hit a tree, and a sharp crack rent the still night air. She removed her hat and flattened it against her face, inhaling deeply so she wouldn’t have to smell the aroma of cooked rattlesnake. The hat carried Kirk’s fading scent, and she knew a time would come when the hat would smell more of her than it did of him. Until that time, it served as a reminder of the comfort he’d always brought her. When he’d left, she’d slept with his silly hat pressed beneath her cheek.
“Do you want me to try and find you something else to eat?”
Meg jerked the hat away from her face. Clay was crouching before her, his gaze riveted on the fire.
“No, I don’t think anything would stay down just yet.”
“Your stomach will settle by morning. I’ll see to it you have something proper to eat then.” He tossed a log on the fire, and orange sparks shot up. “You can sleep in the wagon tonight.”
Using the tree for support, she pushed to her feet. She gripped the bark and forced the hated words past her lips. “Thank you.”
He looked up, and she could see the confusion in his eyes. “For killing the rattler,” she explained.
He nodded slightly and stirred the fire. On wobbly legs, she walked to the wagon and climbed into the back. Clay had spread several blankets across the wagon bed. She placed a wadded blanket beneath her head as she stretched out and brought another blanket over her aching body.
The night sky was so clear, she felt as though she should be able to touch the twinkling gems that graced the heavens and filled them with tranquillity. She wished she could find a measure of that peace within herself.
She wondered if Kirk had hoped to convince Clay to go with the other men that final day in Cedar Grove. Was that why he had joined Clay on the edge of town? If so, disappointment had ridden at his side, not his friend.
She wondered if he regretted all the years he’d spent in friendship with a man who would one day betray him, a man too cowardly to march where honor dictated.
She was certain that pride had caused him to shake Clay’s hand that final morning. He had embraced Clay not to say good-bye to a friend, but to whisper farewell to a friendship.
A soft gentle scratching distracted her from thoughts of retribution. She imagined a small animal scurrying along the ground, foraging for food, stopping to sniff the air, then pouncing on a pecan or moving the dried leaves aside to search out a tasty morsel.
She eased up to her
Similar Books
