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

man in a gray wool coat perched atop the saddle.
    â€œGable? Is that you?” Doc Haskins called out as the snow shrank back and a blinding light seared his eyes. The storm had broken.
    Joshua’s knees hit the earth in disbelief, because it wasn’t from weakness or pain. See? He was one tough son of a bitch. Not even a blizzard could best him.
    Even if it was a near thing, he admitted more truthfully to himself as he breathed deeply, battled off a wave of dizziness and took time to feel the sunlight wan on his face before he handed over the woman in his arms.
    He knew by the look on the doc’s face that it was too little, too late.
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    She’d hovered like this before in the dreamworld of darkness. The only sense left to her was her hearing; all else had faded. She heard voices. Two men, talking low. Not Ham. She tried to remember what had happened tohim, how drunk he’d been, how violent. She couldn’t recall. Only that she’d feared for her baby’s life and then someone had come—Joshua Gable—and driven him away. Shot the gun out of his hand, disarmed him and knocked him to the ground.
    She remembered in a distant way how Mr. Gable had knelt at her side, his tentative touch to her shoulder meant to comfort her, to let her know she needn’t be afraid of him.
    He’d protected her when she’d needed it the most. And while she’d witnessed the violence he was capable of, she saw too the kindness as he moved the broken piece of wood from the wagon that was pinning her down. Noticed the round of her stomach no longer disguised by the thick fall of her skirts, for the fabric was in disarray, and saw his pity.
    Pity she did not need but knew this babe in her womb deserved. Consciousness had bled away as he’d gathered her into his arms and carried her. She’d remembered the last sounds of his boots crunching on the thick ice before silence reigned. And then awakening to an awareness of men’s voices.
    Yes, that was what had happened, she figured out now. Mr. Joshua Gable had returned with the doc in tow.
    The voices faded and returned and warmth came with it. Like a fire hotly burning. She could hear the crackling of the seasoned cedar popping in the stove. And water, hot, sweet, seeping into her bones, lighting a river of pain in her midsection that made her afraid for her babe.
    She would endure any pain, any hardship, any loss. As long as her little one remained safe beneath her heart.Fierce love filled her and she held on when the clawing pain returned. Then the doctor laid something bitter on her tongue and the blackness reached out to imprison her.
    But nothing—nothing—could diminish this love for her baby.
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    Just when he thought the chilblains couldn’t get worse, they did. Joshua growled like a hungry bear fresh out of hibernation and he knew he was about as surly as one. He gulped down the bitter concoction Haskins had steeped for him. Nasty. The chalky, acrid taste clung to his tongue like ice to a roof and didn’t let go.
    That didn’t improve his mood. The traveling pain in his feet and both hands could have been spikes being driven into his flesh over and over without end. Hardly pleasant. If it had been any other circumstance, he’d have roared in fury at the unrelenting pain, but the truth was, watching Claire Hamilton’s life fade had silenced him.
    â€œShe lost too much blood. Some women do after a miscarriage,” Doc said, his examination through as he washed up in the Hamiltons’ tiny kitchen. “I can’t imagine what she went through out there all alone. It’s lucky you found her when you did.”
    â€œLuckier that you found us both when you did.”
    He poured two fingers of Ham’s Jack Daniel’s into a cup and tossed it back. The fire in his stomach took some of his attention away from the pain in the rest of his battered body. If he kept working and living at this