Read Online Rocky Mountain Widow (Historical) by Jillian Hart - Free Book Online

thick curtain of ice. Anything, becausechances were he’d missed the road. He’d missed any chance of finding shelter and was heading to the Canadian border, largely unsettled and uncharted.
    Death. He’d never figured it would come for him this way. He’d been knocked upside the head by an angry bull a few times. That ought to have sent him into the afterlife, but he’d come out of it with nothing more troubling than a headache.
    He’d been pinned against a barn wall by an irate stallion and kicked in the guts by an ornery mare. He had slipped on an ice patch trying to put out a chimney fire one winter years back. Those close calls had taught him he’d likely meet the same end doing his daily work.
    He’d lived his life for his family. He did not regret it now, he thought as he brushed snow from Claire’s hood—she felt diminished more than she had earlier, as if something essential within her drained away with every minute that passed.
    I’m sorry I couldn’t do better, he said silently to her, his thoughts weighed down by a passel of regrets. You deserved better. He leaned his cheek against her head, a gentle pressure, but the contact somehow tugged at his empty heart.
    General stumbled, pitching forward. Joshua’s reactions were slow. He saw the horse going down and he knew what to do—he was kicking his foot out of the stirrup and swinging down, hauling Claire’s body against his chest, but not fast enough. His legs held no strength. His sluggish leg barely cleared the saddle. His knee wobbled as he tried to stand in the remaining stirrup and he couldn’t kick clear.
    He went down with his horse, holding Claire up even as his ankle wrenched, caught in the stirrup, and snapped. His knees hit next, and the impact jarred through him like a body blow. He sank into his left hip, Claire unharmed but his body silent with shock.
    He was too numb to feel the pain of whatever had happened to his ankle, but his body somehow knew and was reeling. A sick feeling built in his gut.
    With the way his luck was going, he’d broken the damn thing. He couldn’t move it, and it was twisted nearly all the way around and stuck in the stirrup. He grabbed hold of his trousers at the knee and wrestled his foot free—and considering it came away at an odd angle only confirmed what he’d already guessed. He’d broken it—and good.
    Hell. What else could go wrong? Couldn’t a man freeze to death in peace? Was it too much to ask for a moment of peace in this life, damn it!
    Not that he planned to sit here and freeze to death, but a second without misery or disaster would be appreciated. He felt his temper lifting him up and he gave thanks for the tight laces on his boots. It served as enough of a splint to let him move forward one dragging step at a time.
    A smart man would accept that he was licked and give in to it. But no, not Joshua Gable, he thought as he settled the woman’s weight against his shoulder.
    Not that he’d ever been a smart man. He’d lived with his mother and his sister long enough to have endured numerous insults about his intelligence. You are simply a man, Betsy’s soft alto voice rang in his mind along with the huff of frustration.
    You think just like your father, may he not rest in peace! Mother’s shrill drill-sergeant manner actually brought a smile to his hard and decidedly frozen face. He’d miss them the most, he decided as the storm swirled around him, breaking apart to give him a glimpse of the mighty snow-shrouded Rockies towering to his left—before the downfall curtained him again. As for Granny—
    Was it his imagination, or was that her red plaid scarf he saw? There was a spot of color hovering in midair, but he couldn’t figure out why he could only see the corner of what looked to be a scarf.
    The storm thinned, and he saw it more clearly. A red flannel saddle blanket on a gray horse. A