Dark Torment by Karen Robards

Author:Karen Robards
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Hachette Digital, Inc.
Published: 0100-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

XV

It was nearly dusk when they drove the sheep through a grove of ghost gums to the tiny trickle of water that was all that was left of a stream that, judging from the wide, sun-dried banks, had once been bountiful. Sarah stared hard at it. Noting the position of the slowly sinking sun and recalling as best she could the way they had come, she decided that it must be Kerry’s Creek, which ran along the northern edge of the station before veering off toward the mountain range known as the Australian Alps. The creek eventually—she could not be sure of her distances—emptied into the Murrumbidgee River near the town of Wagga Wagga. If she could manage to escape, her one hope would be to follow the creek to safety. The trek would be arduous, to say the least, but not, she thought, impossible, now that she knew in what direction to head and had the creek to provide her with water. It would never do simply to run away whenever the opportunity presented itself without some kind of plan. If she did, without some notion of where she was and where she was going, she risked getting lost in the bush. And getting lost in the bush meant quick death.

Sarah had given up trying to hold herself stiffly erect. The heat and the miles they had traveled had robbed her even of that last prideful gesture. She sat sideways, slumped back against Dominic’s sweat-soaked chest, her head lolling against one broad shoulder, her legs trailing over one of his as she practically sat in his lap in the saddle. The arm holding the reins was around her back, supporting her. In such close contact with him, his body heat was almost tangible. She could feel the steely hardness of his muscles, hear the rhythmic beat of his heart, smell the musky, perspiration-tinged scent that reminded her constantly that she was being held close by a man. With the heavy wool blanket enveloping her, she felt as if she were being roasted alive. But the alternative was to ride once again with only the thin nightrail to shield her from the curious eyes of the men. And this she refused to do.

The hat and kerchief had been a blessing throughout the sweltering afternoon. The sun had been relentless; the clouds of dust had reduced Dominic, who had no protection from them, to sporadic fits of coughing. Sarah had not offered to return either his hat or his bandanna to him, and to her surprise, given his present hostility toward her, he had not suggested it. Not even when his face began to burn to a deep, dark red and the coughing got so bad that it shook his body. If he wanted to be chivalrous, she would not object, Sarah thought caustically. Evidently it hadn’t occurred to him that, as a native Australian, she was probably less susceptible to the conditions than he, who came from a country noted for its cool mists and gentle rains.

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