Read Online The Cedar Tree (Love Is Not Enough) by Danni McGriffith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Danni McGriffith
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to his feet while Lucky scrambled upright. The gelding stood splay-legged and shaking…but in front of a small cabin.
He wiped ineffectively at his hair streaming into his eyes and reached for Katie.
"No," she shouted over the roaring storm, refusing to turn loose of the saddle horn. "We have to find Tim."
"His horse'll find this place," he yelled as a strange tingle raised goose-bumps all over his body, lifting the hair on his scalp.
Instantly, a blinding jag of light shook the ground. A pine tree thirty feet from the shack exploded like a bomb. He staggered backward. Katie screamed. Sightless, he made a frantic lunge toward the sound, catching her around the waist just as Lucky bolted from under her.
Her scream turned to one of pain. She buckled beneath him. Swearing, he grabbed for her then tripped and fell over where she sprawled. He rubbed at the lightning streak imprinted on his retinas with his muddy hand.
"Put your arms around my neck," he shouted, gathering her in his arms as his vision returned. He tried to shove to his feet, but he slipped in the mud and fell back to one knee. "Could you relax a little? You feel like a sack of fence posts," he yelled irritably. "Put your arms around my neck like I told you."
"Don't yell at me," she cried with an edge of hysteria. "You're just trying to take advantage of this—"
"I've done a lot of things," he roared, "but takin' advantage of a woman when I might get struck by lightnin' ain't one of 'em."
She burst into tears. He swore under his breath. A flash of lightning, farther away now, lit her face. Sodden strands of hair straggled across her cheeks, scratched by lashing branches and spotted from chunks of mud thrown up from Lucky's flying hooves.
"I've got a bad knee," he said in a quieter tone. "I'll drop you if you don't hang on to me. That's all."
Trembling violently she scraped at the hair in her eyes, leaving a muddy smear. She slid her arms around his neck then aware of every inch of her shivering form, he staggered to the cabin through the mud sucking at his boots and up the two steps to the door.
He groped for the knob. It turned in his hand. Relieved, he shoved the door open with his foot. Peering into the pitchy darkness, he stumbled into the room. A flash of lightning illuminated a bed against the wall to his right. He made for it and rolled her onto the bare mattress.
Turning, he shut the door. In the sudden, calm silence of the room, he stood with his hands on his knees, gasping for air and wiping at his hair in his eyes with his denim shirt sleeve. He hadn't expected to find the line shack empty.
They were in real trouble.
He carefully made his way over the floor toward the cast-iron stove on the wall across from the door. If he couldn't get her warmed up she'd die, and if he couldn't find any matches…
Running his hand up the wall behind the stove, he hit a metal poker hanging from a nail. The poker fell with a clatter. Something scurried over his boot. He jumped then swore and kicked at whatever it was—something big, not just a mouse. Groping along an eye-level ledge, he found where the mice had left their droppings, but his fingers found a match box, too.
He blew out his breath in relief. Striking a match, he lifted it. The flame illuminated the room and a kerosene lamp on a table a few feet away. He picked up the lamp and shook it—almost full.
Soon the lamp's soft glow showed Katie curled on her side on the bare mattress except for her injured leg which stuck out straight and stiff. Jaw clenched, she held her arms around her red tee shirt, shivering violently.
An unfamiliar fear shot through him. Everybody had always said one of his problems was he wasn't scared of nothin'.
But he was scared now.
He used the packrat's nest behind the stove, along with the armful of split pine the line rider had left last October, to start a fire. Within a minute, the pop of pine resin sounded from a building inferno inside the stove.
He stood and
He wiped ineffectively at his hair streaming into his eyes and reached for Katie.
"No," she shouted over the roaring storm, refusing to turn loose of the saddle horn. "We have to find Tim."
"His horse'll find this place," he yelled as a strange tingle raised goose-bumps all over his body, lifting the hair on his scalp.
Instantly, a blinding jag of light shook the ground. A pine tree thirty feet from the shack exploded like a bomb. He staggered backward. Katie screamed. Sightless, he made a frantic lunge toward the sound, catching her around the waist just as Lucky bolted from under her.
Her scream turned to one of pain. She buckled beneath him. Swearing, he grabbed for her then tripped and fell over where she sprawled. He rubbed at the lightning streak imprinted on his retinas with his muddy hand.
"Put your arms around my neck," he shouted, gathering her in his arms as his vision returned. He tried to shove to his feet, but he slipped in the mud and fell back to one knee. "Could you relax a little? You feel like a sack of fence posts," he yelled irritably. "Put your arms around my neck like I told you."
"Don't yell at me," she cried with an edge of hysteria. "You're just trying to take advantage of this—"
"I've done a lot of things," he roared, "but takin' advantage of a woman when I might get struck by lightnin' ain't one of 'em."
She burst into tears. He swore under his breath. A flash of lightning, farther away now, lit her face. Sodden strands of hair straggled across her cheeks, scratched by lashing branches and spotted from chunks of mud thrown up from Lucky's flying hooves.
"I've got a bad knee," he said in a quieter tone. "I'll drop you if you don't hang on to me. That's all."
Trembling violently she scraped at the hair in her eyes, leaving a muddy smear. She slid her arms around his neck then aware of every inch of her shivering form, he staggered to the cabin through the mud sucking at his boots and up the two steps to the door.
He groped for the knob. It turned in his hand. Relieved, he shoved the door open with his foot. Peering into the pitchy darkness, he stumbled into the room. A flash of lightning illuminated a bed against the wall to his right. He made for it and rolled her onto the bare mattress.
Turning, he shut the door. In the sudden, calm silence of the room, he stood with his hands on his knees, gasping for air and wiping at his hair in his eyes with his denim shirt sleeve. He hadn't expected to find the line shack empty.
They were in real trouble.
He carefully made his way over the floor toward the cast-iron stove on the wall across from the door. If he couldn't get her warmed up she'd die, and if he couldn't find any matches…
Running his hand up the wall behind the stove, he hit a metal poker hanging from a nail. The poker fell with a clatter. Something scurried over his boot. He jumped then swore and kicked at whatever it was—something big, not just a mouse. Groping along an eye-level ledge, he found where the mice had left their droppings, but his fingers found a match box, too.
He blew out his breath in relief. Striking a match, he lifted it. The flame illuminated the room and a kerosene lamp on a table a few feet away. He picked up the lamp and shook it—almost full.
Soon the lamp's soft glow showed Katie curled on her side on the bare mattress except for her injured leg which stuck out straight and stiff. Jaw clenched, she held her arms around her red tee shirt, shivering violently.
An unfamiliar fear shot through him. Everybody had always said one of his problems was he wasn't scared of nothin'.
But he was scared now.
He used the packrat's nest behind the stove, along with the armful of split pine the line rider had left last October, to start a fire. Within a minute, the pop of pine resin sounded from a building inferno inside the stove.
He stood and
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