If the Boot Fits by Karen Witemeyer

Author:Karen Witemeyer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance;Christian fiction;Romance fiction;Novels;FIC042110;FIC042030;FIC027360
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2024-01-16T00:00:00+00:00

21

The burlap undulated with the snake’s movements. The top of the sack gaped open. Any moment now, the rattler would find his way out. Should she stay still and pray it mistook her for a rock and slither away? Would it be better to kick the sack out of the wagon and hope it didn’t land close to the horses? Or maybe she should try to ease her feet out from under the sack, climb over the seat into the wagon bed, and escape out the back.

Indecision tormented her. Too many things could go wrong no matter what she chose. All she knew for sure was that her shoes and skirts offered more protection than her thin sleeves, so she released the reins and drew her arms up toward her head. She’d just about decided to try to ease her feet out from under the sack when the head of the snake emerged dangerously close to her ankle.

The brownish-gray triangular head loomed large in her vision. Nearly the size of her fist, it pushed the burlap aside and led the way for the rest of its oversized body to wriggle free.

Samantha prayed the creature would simply dismount the wagon and escape onto the prairie, but instead of taking the straight path to freedom, it curled around behind her heel.

What if it climbed up her skirts? The terrifying thought nearly unseated her.

Don’t move. Don’t move. Don’t move.

The meditation didn’t steady her pulse. Her heart pounded harder and harder until she found it difficult to breathe. Foot after foot of scaly diamondback serpent slithered from the sack and disappeared beneath her skirt. The vile thing had to be at least five feet long. She could feel it moving. Over her shoes. Around her ankle. Rustling the fabric of her petticoats.

Something brushed against her calf, above the top of her left shoe.

Samantha whimpered, then pressed her lips together and squeezed her eyes closed.

Take it away, God, please. I can’t bear it.

Terror built inside her, urging her to flee. But she held firm, heeding the tiny scrap of logic that remained in her possession. Stillness gave her the best chance to survive. Do nothing to make the snake feel threatened.

But what if the creature tangled in her skirts and couldn’t find its way out? What if it was drawn to her warmth and decided to curl up and take a nap?

One of the Morgans tossed its head and stomped a hoof. Samantha’s eyes flew open.

Merciful heavens. What if the horses jostled the wagon?

Tears filled her eyes. Her chest throbbed. Her soul cried for rescue.

Panic wound its tentacles around her mind, cutting off her access to rational thought. The weight of it threatened to pull her under. She needed to get away. Now!

She clutched the seat back and prepared to jump up onto the bench. But a movement caught her eye. The snake’s head emerged from beneath her skirt on the far side of her right foot. Samantha held her breath but not her prayers as a few ounces of sanity returned.

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