Only 1 - Only His by Elizabeth Lowell

Author:Elizabeth Lowell
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance, Western, Historical
ISBN: 0380763389
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 1983-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Willow ran.

Caleb’s shots rang out behind her, yet by the time Willow saw the horses, he had caught up and was running right beside her.

“Watch for raiders,” Caleb said curtly.

While Willow watched their backtrail, Caleb yanked the riding saddle off Deuce, relieving the injured horse’s burden. For a moment he considered using one of the mares as a pack animal, but a single look at their hanging heads and the lather dissolving on their coats beneath the driving rain told Caleb the mares were worse off than Deuce. Working quickly, he transferred as much equipment as he could to the saddlebags and bedrolls tied on behind the riding saddles. When he was finished, Deuce was carrying less than thirty pounds, none of it vital for their survival.

Caleb pulled on his shearling jacket and lifted Willow into Ishmael’s saddle.

“It will be a hard, steady climb,” he said in a low voice. “Stick with it even if Deuce and the mares don’t. Promise me, Willow.”

Biting her lower lip, Willow nodded.

Caleb reached up and brushed her cheek with his fingertips, leaving a trail of warmth in the cold rain. Then he swung up on Trey’s back.

“I’m not going to stop short of the summit,” he said. “We need every bit of daylight to get over that pass.”

Even as Willow started to say something, Caleb merged with the rain and vanished. The horses filed out in the driving rain, with Deuce limping in the rear.

After the first thirty minutes, Willow stopped listening for Comancheros and looking over her shoulder every few minutes. After the first hour, she stopped checking to see that the Arabians were following . They were keeping up well enough, but Willow didn’t know how much longer the mares would be able to go on. Despite the slow pace, they were breathing as though they had been trotting for hours. True to Caleb’s prediction, Deuce kept on coming despite his game leg, walking quickly enough to overtake the slowest mare.

They climbed steadily, relentlessly, until Willow couldn’t remember a time when the land hadn’t tilted steeply in front of her. Willow alternated between a headache and a lightheadedness that made her fear for her health. Beneath heavy curtains of rain, the dark shape of spruce trees appeared more frequently among pines and aspen. Every few minutes she peered through the sheets of water to where Caleb was, clinging to his presence as the only certainty in a world gone the color of rain.

Thunder boomed occasionally, but no longer startled Willow. They forded a stream and climbed a forested, rolling ridge on the far side. Gradually the route leveled out somewhat, then ascended into another grassy park. A clean, racing creek boiled down the center of the clearing between shrub-covered banks. Caleb crossed the water and turned upstream. The land rose steadily beneath the horses’ feet once more, making even a slow walk an effort.

Once, when it was very steep, Caleb dismounted. Willow followed suit before she led Ishmael toward the rain-shrouded figures ahead.

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