Read Online Wayward Wind by Dorothy Garlock - Free Book Online Page A

unnerving, alien thing was inside him, pulling at him. Although his common sense told him to go,
     he wasn’t ready to leave just yet.
    Cooper sat on a rock, watching the water glimmer and ripple over and around stones worn smooth by its passing. He recalled
     each word Lorna had spoken and tried to find logic in her explanation. Suddenly something she’d said flashed across his mind:
He would find where Volney and I hid Bonnie.
Surely there couldn’t be more than one person in the territory with the unlikely name of Volney!
    The Volney Burbank he knew was old and gaunt and suspicious of almost everything and everybody. As far as he knew, Volney
     was the only bona fide mountain man in this part of the country. The old man was little more than a hermit. He ran a line
     of traps in the winter and collected bounty on the pelts of various predators he killed. Cooper knew for a fact he had boundless
     respect for the wild creatures he hunted and almost none for the human race. A couple of times a year his nocturnal wanderings
     would bring him to the ranch and he would pick up a grub bag, leave a pelt or two, and pass on to Cooper any information he
     had about a wild horse herd in the area. Cooper was the only one at the ranch he’d pass the time of day with. To everyone
     else he was an enigma, an unkempt old man with a mane of gray-yellow hair about his thin shoulders.
    Cooper liked the old man, although he thought he lived an unnecessarily monastic life. There was little doubt that Volney
     knew about everything that went on in the territory, but he chose to tell none of it. As far as Cooper could recall, he’d
     never mentioned anyone by name, or named places he’d been. Up to now Cooper hadn’t given it any thought, but could the old
     mountain man be the Volney Lorna spoke about?
    He turned and looked back toward the cabin. Through the open door, he could see a faint glow made by the fire in the hearth.
     His thoughts turned to Griffin, the young nester he’d saved from hanging and who in turn had saved the girl’s life—for the
     time being, at least. He was a strange one, Cooper thought. He had a dead serious confidence about him and a knowledge that
     seemed too heavy for his years. Now, he and Lorna were trying to rouse the girl enough to get her to swallow a broth Lorna
     had made from boiling dried beef. Cooper had little hope the girl would live. She’d looked pale as death the last time he’d
     looked in on her.
    “Is there anything else we can do?” Lorna’s voice was low, her face drawn into a worried frown. She placed the half-empty
     cup on the floor beside her and watched Griffin ease Bonnie back down onto the bed.
    “The only thin’ I can think of is put ’er hips ’n legs up higher ’n ’er head. I heard tell of that bein’ done if there was
     a lot a bleedin’,” Griffin said softly. He had a worried look on his young face as if he really cared about the girl who moved
     restlessly on the pallet.
    Lorna studied him as if seeing him for the first time. “Do you think we should do it? She’s not bleeding much, but she needs
     all the blood she’s got.”
    “I don’t think it’d hurt none.”
    “I’ll get a blanket and fold it.” Lorna stood and looked down at Griffin’s dark head and on an impulse asked, “What’s your
     other name?”
    There was a long silence before he said, “I don’t go by it, ma’am, unless I got to write it on a paper or somethin’.” He lifted
     his head and looked up. Even in the dim light she could see the desolation in his eyes.
    “I’m sorry for prying.” Lorna placed a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done. I’m grateful you’re
     here with me now.”
    “I’ve done time in Yuma, ma’am. I killed my first man ’cause I wanted to, the rest of them was atryin’ to kill me—”
    “Don’t tell me you’ve done bad things,” she said quickly. “I won’t believe they weren’t forced on you. My