Wild Secret, Wild Longing: A Sweet Historical Western Romance Novella (The Front Range Series Book 3) by Charlene Whitman

Author:Charlene Whitman [Whitman, Charlene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ubiquitous Press
Published: 2015-05-29T04:00:00+00:00

LeRoy gritted his teeth as a fresh wave of pain streaked his gut. He yanked his coat on and laced up his boots, all the while recalling the heartbreaking look on her face. He understood why she ran; he saw it in her eyes. It wasn’t just that he’d caught her crying. She knew he’d figured out that she was a woman. And that terrified her. But why? Not even when face-to-face with that grizzly had she been that afraid. What did she think he’d do to her? It made not a lick of sense.

He threw open the door, the wolf standing alongside him, and looked out as snow fell heavy and thick in the scant evening light the blizzard sought to blot out. Already the drifts lay higher than the stoop, encroaching on the window sashes. The boughs of the pines sagged under the weight of the snow, their needles poking out like bony hands in the storm. A cold wind collared LeRoy’s neck with its icy fingers and inched down his spine as he searched the ground before him and made out a few faint indentations showing where Dan had headed.

He shook his head and pursed his lips. If she’d gone into the woods, her tracks would be easy to find, but she’d headed out into the open field, and he knew it would be like waving his arms in an ocean in the dark, trying to find her out there. How far could she get in this blinding whiteness before she lost her way? Or maybe that’s her intention.

The thought struck his heart with worry. How could she have gotten so far so fast?

“Dan!” He yelled as loud as he could, then yelled again. “Where are you?” His words were swallowed up in silence. He looked at Peluche. “You’re gonna have to help me, girl.” The wolf returned his gaze with a look of concern. A whine came from her throat, and she bounded into the snow and sank to her haunches.

LeRoy thought on what he should take with him, but anything he carried would only bog him down. Peluche waited for him, dark fur against stark white, questioning him.

“Find Dan. Go git ’er,” he commanded, pointing off across the barren wasteland flanking the woods. But the wolf whined louder and stood her ground, snow coating her fur like frosting.

LeRoy huffed and pulled his gloves out his pocket, then squirmed them on over his cold, stiff fingers. He fastened the top buttons of his coat and tucked his chin into his neck. His hat he squashed down over his half-frozen ears. Irritation built to anger as he took three strides into the snow and sank to his waist in the powder. Seemed like Dan would have snowshoes someplace, but LeRoy had no time to search for them. In this weather, a body could freeze to death inside of an hour, even less. LeRoy was running out of time before he even started.

Where would she have gone? There

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