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thought.
The wind blew her hair in front of her eyes. She was clawing the wet strands away from her face and
bending to pull her skirts when she heard the noise.
It was a strange, heavy groaning, unlike any sound she had ever heard before.
Startled, she looked up.
It was a tree. A huge oak, ancient and massive. Despite its size, the power of the wind was moving it,
and its branches were rubbing together, producing the eerie, almost human moan.
And it was falling.
Time seemed to move very slowly. Laurel was very aware of the giant tree, pushed beyond its
endurance, leaning farther and farther into the wind.
And then it gave another sound, a kind of muffled tearing as its roots appeared in a shower of dirt, as if
some giant, unseen hand was ripping it from its bed.
And it was falling toward Prudence.
Prudence lifted her face toward the falling tree, her mouth falling open with horror.
Laurel moved. She heard her tangled skirts ripping; she felt her feet touch ground, once, twice, saw the
giant tree rushing toward her, saw Seth turning and a brief glimpse of terror on his face.
And then her body collided with Prudence, hard and fast, and they both went flying to the ground as the
tree fell.
Chapter Seven
The tree came down where Prudence had been standing only a second before.
It landed with a thundering noise, branches crashing and clattering. The ground shook beneath the
impact. It landed so close to them that Laurel could feel the branches as they whisked past her cheek,
almost touching it.
For a moment she couldn't breathe. She simply lay on the wet dirt, one arm around Prudence, hardly
daring to believe they were alive.
The rain poured over her, plastering her dress to her shoulders and dribbling onto Prudence's still, white
face. The child lay motionless, her eyes dilated with fear.
Laurel tried to speak and couldn't. Her stomach felt hollow and unsteady.
"Are you hurt?"
Seth Goodwin was bending over them, his face ashen beneath his tan. Rainwater dripped from his hair.
His fingers, long and graceful, reached for her wrist, played over her pulse. Behind him, the green trees
and gray sky poured water.
"I'm fine." Laurel's voice was weak, barely audible above the sound of the wind and rain. She swallowed,
and tried again. "I'm fine. Prudence& "
"Unhurt, I think." Seth's fingers were gently rushing over the girl's limbs, checking for broken bones.
Laurel tried to stand. Her knees shook, and the wind tangled her wet skirts around her legs. She grabbed
at the branches of the fallen tree and pulled herself upright.
Seth helped Prudence up, and Laurel caught the child's arm as she swayed.
She looked like a drowned kitten. Her normally pale hair was dark with rain, streaming in wet ribbons
over her small shoulders. Her hands shook as she clutched her bundle. Her china-blue eyes stared
straight ahead.
This is my fault, Laurel thought. My fault. I should have left her at home, instead of dragging her
out into the wilderness.
"We've got to find shelter," she said, "quickly. I think she's in shock." She put her arm around the little
girl's shoulders. "Come on, Prudence. Let's go. We want to get out of this storm."
Prudence stared but didn't move.
"Please, sweetie& "
Prudence stood as if turned to stone, her shaking fingers curled tightly around her bundle.
A large branch came crashing near them, and Laurel's heart flopped with fear. The rain poured from the
sky in sheets, one following the other.
"Come then, Prudence," Seth said, and his voice was gentle, with none of his usual arrogance. "Let's go
find a dry place, and something to eat." He balanced his long rifle at his side and bent down. He picked
Prudence up and shifted her weight over one shoulder. He took her bundle and handed it to Laurel.
"Move fast," he said.
Laurel followed the order without question, following him into the endless forest. The rain pounded and
breaking branches cracked and clattered around them. The wind howled like an injured animal.
Laurel stared straight ahead at the tall man carrying the terrified child, the sodden blond head next to the
dark one. She put one foot in front of the other and followed him through the storm.
"Not much longer," he shouted over his shoulder.
Against all reason, Laurel felt better.
Perhaps there had been a house there, months ago. Quite obviously, there had been a fire, as well. All
that remained of the house was a pile of blackened timbers, soaked and dripping in the driving rain.
Laurel felt something crumble inside her, and Seth let loose with a streak of profanity that would have
done a truck driver proud.
They stood in the middle of green fields, bordered by split rail and stone fences, staring at the ruin of the
house, the wind buffeting their hair and clothes. Across the field a bolt of lightning shot from the black
sky, sizzling and singeing its brilliant trail to earth.
Laurel thought she could feel the electricity through her feet. She wondered what would happen if
lightning struck her. Perhaps that was the plan, the way to return her to the present.
She turned, looking around them. "Look!"
Down the slope of the hill was a shed, built with thick stone walls and a sturdy roof.
Seth sent her an unexpected smile, bright with relief.
"Come on," he shouted.
Laurel followed him down the slope of the hill, her feet sliding in the muddy grass. The heavy door swung
open at her touch and Laurel moved to step in.
She almost fell.
Instead of the firm dirt floor she had expected, there was nothing, a hole leading down into blackness.
She steadied herself on the door frame and
looked over her shoulder at Seth, still carrying Prudence.
"There's nothing there," she explained, raising her voice over the sound of the storm.
Seth looked puzzled. "Is the ladder gone?"
"Ladder?" Laurel looked down, and there was a ladder at her feet. "How did you know?"
The look he gave her told her that she had slipped. She should have known this.
"It's a springhouse," he said simply, in a voice that said he shouldn't have to tell her that.
"Oh. I knew that." Laurel wondered what the hell a springhouse was.
"Carry my rifle," he said. "I can't manage it and your sister both."
Laurel took the rifle gingerly and began her way down the ladder and into the darkness below.
She soon knew what a springhouse was.
It was deep and cold. A sort of cellar, for storing food. Ye olde refrigerator. Not the best place to warm
up. It was also very dark and damp.
She took her shoes off immediately, and gasped with relief at the touch of the cold, hard-packed earth
against her bruised and blistered feet.
She heard Seth coming down the ladder, his progress slowed beneath the weight of the child he carried. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]