Only His by Elizabeth Lowell

Author:Elizabeth Lowell [Lowell, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Adult, Man-Woman Relationships, Frontier and Pioneer Life, Man-Woman Relationships - Rocky Mountains Region, Western Stories, General, Romance, Western, Historical, Erotica, Fiction, Frontier and Pioneer Life - Rocky Mountains Region, Love Stories
ISBN: 9780380763382
Google: BHlhbmlnPosC
Amazon: 0380763389
Publisher: Avon
Published: 1991-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

11

W ILLOW awoke with the sun in her face and the sound of Ishmael’s frantic whinny ringing in her ears. Heart pounding, she sat up suddenly. It took her a moment to remember where she was—in a tiny hanging valley on the western slope of the Great Divide. The whole valley was barely three hundred acres of grass surrounded on three sides by steep, forested ridges. The fourth side fell away so sharply that the stream was as much a waterfall as a cascade.

“Caleb?”

No one answered Willow’s call. Belatedly, she remembered that Caleb had left long before first light, riding Trey and seeking the four mares that hadn’t found their way into the valley by moonrise. She had wanted to go with him, but had fallen after she took three steps. He had carried her back to the blankets. She had dreamed she was following him and had wept each time she awakened to find herself alone and her mares lost.

Now Willow could sleep no more. She crawled out of the bedroll, picked up the shotgun Caleb had left for her, and went to see what was bothering Ishmael. The angle of the sun told her that it was mid-afternoon. She had slept all night and most of a day.

Ishmael snorted and tugged against his picket rope, whinnying wildly.

“Take it easy, boy,” Willow said, glancing in the direction the stallion was staring. “What is it?”

The stallion’s call split the silence again.

Riding on the wind came an answering cry. A few minutes later three of the missing mares walked wearily into the meadow. Willow took the stallion off the picket rope and led him to a rock. Shotgun in hand, she leaped from the rock onto the stallion’s bare back. Instants later, he was cantering eagerly toward the mares, nickering a welcome. Willow stared at the forest beyond the three mares but saw no sign of Caleb, his big Montana horse, or Dove, the only mare still missing.

With rising uneasiness, Willow waited while Ishmael sniffed over the mares, assuring himself that they were indeed the same ones he had lost. After a few moments, the mares began cropping grass ravenously, ignoring the delighted stallion.

“Ishmael, that’s enough. Let’s go see what happened to Caleb.”

Willow had no sooner reached the edge of the meadow when Ishmael’s ears pricked and he whinnied softly. An answering whinny came from the forest. Trey trotted into the open. A page from Caleb’s journal had been torn out and tied to the saddle horn. Willow worked the paper free and opened it.

I’m walking Dove in. The other mares perked up and started tugging to be free as soon as they got below nine thousand feet. They were headed in the right direction so I turned them loose, and Trey, too. Give them some grain.

Dove is done in, but still game. I’ll stay with her as long as she’s standing.

Tears scalded Willow’s cheeks at the thought of her tired mare. Dove, more than any of the horses, had borne Willow’s weight through the long days on the trail.

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