The Trapper by Jenna Kernan

Author:Jenna Kernan [Kernan, Jenna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459231665
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
Published: 2012-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

The next morning he skirted along the river until a tributary blocked their path.

He drew up and considered the fast-moving water. The fording would be more difficult than customary as the knee-deep water now ran fast with the runoff from the storms.

He glanced back at her. Today she wore a dress the color of dried pine pitch and a straw bonnet with the biggest feather he’d ever seen.

In an effort to break the long silence between them, he spoke. “What kind of bird was that?”

“Ostrich,” she said. “From Australia.”

“I’d like to see one.”

“It has pink legs and feathers of black and white, but they dye them to any shade.” Her fingers swept over the yellow feather. “The bird stands larger than my horse.”

He snorted. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“Truly. They are enormous.”

“Don’t have to be too damned big to be taller than your horse.”

She gave him a halfhearted scowl, then laughed.

The sound tickled his insides.

“Good eating?” he asked.

“My horse? I shouldn’t think so.”

Now he scowled, though inside he enjoyed her teasing.

“The bird.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know. I’ve only seen them in the pages of a book.”

He gave the feather a final glance. “Pity.”

Only then she seemed to notice that he pointed toward the stream. Her eyes rounded in worry.

“I’ll go first,” he said. “Just hold tight, the water is fast.”

He gave Dahlonega a nudge and his horse stepped confidently into the coursing water. He held the rope to the mules in his left hand and felt it tighten as the pack animals resisted taking the first step. “Get up there.”

They came with tentative strides. Once at midstream the water brushed the creatures’ bellies and they grew anxious to be clear, trotting the distance to shore. He turned toward Lena. Her horse danced with mincing steps more anxious than the mules’. He didn’t like the way the little mare tossed her head, rolling her eyes over white.

In that instant he remembered Rachel alone on the river, standing in the bow of the little boat on a clear sunny day. She couldn’t swim—Rachel couldn’t swim. A tidal wave of glacial runoff flooded through him as past mistakes collided with current ones.

He dropped the line holding the pack animals.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. “I’m coming back for you.”

She spoke, but the river garbled her words and then took the reins in a firm hand, using the tasseled stick. His heart dropped as the mare lunged from the bank landing some five feet from shore. White forelegs frothed in the rushing water as the mare scrambled to keep her footing in the fast-moving current.

The horse’s rear legs slid and the animal went down hard, rolling toward the rider. Panic ripped through his chest as they fell as one. Faced with the choice of having her mount roll upon her or leaping clear, she released her grip.

Instantly, the water took her, wrapping her heavy skirts about her legs. She clawed for the reins and they slid through her fingers as she went under.

Troy released

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