My Dear One by Deborah Small

Author:Deborah Small
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Deborah Small

Chapter 21

Proposal

Dianna frowned at the bed's rusted skeleton, wondering what had woken her. Mr. Douglas's soft snores had ceased, so maybe he'd heard it too.

She remained still, silent, and after a moment, let her heavy eyelids flutter closed, popped them open a heartbeat later.

There it was again. Faint, but definite. She sat up, turned around. Mr. Douglas was already on his feet.

“Stay low, and stay quiet,” he said, as he pressed up against the wall next to the window. He angled a glance one direction, then ducked and turned to look out the other. His legs and buttocks bunched and flexed beneath the long underwear like coiled springs. Her heart hammered in her throat.

Another bark sounded, this time loud, and almost triumphant.

Mr. Douglas's shoulders relaxed, and a broad smile replaced his scowl as he propped the rifle against the wall and opened the door.

“Bloody dog,” he said and knelt to welcome Grits who bounded out of the mist all long legs and lolling tongue. Mr. Douglas restrained the pup with his good arm, ensuring the dog limited his slobbering licks to one side of his face, his uninjured side.

Someone shouted in Spanish. Mr. Douglas answered in the same language, and a moment later, a man on horseback leading a pack horse, materialised.

“Mr. Vasquez,” Dianna murmured. “Thank goodness.”

Mr. Douglas pushed to his feet and stepped outside, closing the door behind him, leaving her to tug on her boots, and order her dishevelled clothes and hair, best she could. She could hear them quietly conversing, but understood not a single word, as they spoke Spanish. She glanced out the window, as though that might help her understand.

It had stopped raining, but a heavy mist enveloped the shack.

Mr. Douglas smiled, but Mr. Vasquez's dark eyes and face remained inscrutable beneath the rain-stained brim of his hat, when she opened the door and stepped out. The heat of a blush crawled up her neck.

“I told Juan what happened,” Mr. Douglas said. He held himself stiffly, as though afraid to move too quickly. The blanched skin around his mouth belied the effort it took him to withhold a grimace, as he used his good hand to ruffle the dog's ears and keep it calm.

Mr. Vasquez removed his hat, fiddled with the crown. Mr. Douglas, too, looked ill-at-ease.

“What is it?” she asked. “What's wrong?”

Mr. Douglas cleared his throat. “Juan says there's an English man in town, looking for his daughter.”

Dianna staggered, but waved off Mr. Douglas's attempt to grasp her elbow. She stared at Mr. Vasquez. “This man is he tall, like Mr. Douglas, with dark hair like mine?”

Mr. Vasquez looked at her. “Your padre?”

“Did he give his name?”

“Not to me.”

But who else could it be, but Papa? How many English fathers would end up in Douglas, Texas, looking for a daughter? She fisted her hands, fought her body's attempt to hyperventilate.

Mr. Vasquez said something in Spanish to Mr. Douglas.

“What did he say?”

Mr. Douglas puffed out his cheeks. “A couple of boys found bodies washed up near town.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.