simply for
convenience. She had promised herself, from an early age, she would
run away before succumbing to such imprisonment.
Without warning, Lenore's foot caught
on a fallen limb. She pitched forward onto a half-buried animal
trap. The clamp of its steel jaws reverberated throughout the
forest capturing the sleeve of Lenore's coat and pinching her
skin.
"Ahhh!" Lenore pulled against the trap
which only increased the pain. Like a hot poker, it seared through
her arm. "No! Oh, dear Lord, this hurts, get it off me!"
A howl sounded on the breeze. Lenore
stopped struggling and listened. Was it caused by the wind through
the trees or something much more frightening? She shivered and drew
her body closer to the clamp, curling into a ball. How long would
she have to remain here before someone found her? And would she be
found alive? What about her family, they were depending on her to
find help.
"Lord," she whispered, "please send
them help."
Chapter Two
Heston Miller paused at the sound of
the faint scream. He'd traveled half the distance home; to turn
back now would leave him walking in total darkness.
The sound came again. He cocked his
head to listen. It was like no other he had heard in the
wilderness. The traps were reset, had he caught something again so
soon? With a sigh, he turned around in his tracks. "Whatever you
are, you'd better be worth it 'Cause come tomorrow, I'll need all
the extra cash I can come up with."
The walk back was covered quickly
because of his previous path. Heston came near his first trap and
paused. With his rifle ready, he slowly stepped around the bend.
Empty. He peered through the trees, thankful for the filtering
moonlight.
The second trap proved just as empty.
He considered turning back when the sound of sobbing reached his
ears. Sobbing?
Heston quickened his pace. Wolves
often frequented this part of the forest, he couldn't waste any
time. Soon, he came upon the reason for the cry. Huddled into a
fetal position was a woman. Her arm entangled with a limb and his
trap.
Lord, let her be
okay.
Heston knelt down beside her and with
a voice that told of more calm than he felt, he reassured her,
though with his own rough manner. "Calm yourself down, ma'am. I'm
going to open the trap, and you pull your arm back quick as you
can."
Frightened, doe-shaped eyes peered up
at him with astonishment. "Thank you, sir. The Lord has surely
heard my cry." Her lips were blue and her words were spoken with
the slurred effects of the cold.
Heston pulled the trap open and reset
it as the woman slowly pulled her arm free. He'd told her to do so
with speed, but she was so cold, he realized it probably took all
she had to move at all.
"Can you stand?"
Slowly, she nodded. He steadied her
with his hand on her undamaged arm. She straightened to a stance,
but with one step, her legs buckled beneath her. Heston caught her
against his chest then swung her up in his capable arms. Her body
trembled against his. "Don't worry, you'll be warm
soon."
But would it be in time? Frost-bite
did awful things to ones hands and feet.
Awkward as it was, Heston trudged
through the forest with his gun and fresh hides thrown over his
back and the woman in his arms. Snowflakes swirled around him with
relaxed ease. The earlier storm had spent its fury, leaving a
peaceful atmosphere in its wake. At least it felt peaceful to him,
but what to this woman. Had she trudged through the storm? And from
where? There wasn't anything for miles around.
Relief flooded his chest as the cabin
came into view. Smoke still curled from the chimney promising a
welcome warmth. He threw open the door and kicked it shut behind
him with his foot. Striding the short distance across the room, he
laid the woman on his bed. "I'll get some more warmth in here and
we'll check out your hands and feet."
A feeble voice tried to reply but
exhaustion had laid its claim. Heston didn't try to encourage her
to repeat her words. Instead, he readied a pot to heat
convenience. She had promised herself, from an early age, she would
run away before succumbing to such imprisonment.
Without warning, Lenore's foot caught
on a fallen limb. She pitched forward onto a half-buried animal
trap. The clamp of its steel jaws reverberated throughout the
forest capturing the sleeve of Lenore's coat and pinching her
skin.
"Ahhh!" Lenore pulled against the trap
which only increased the pain. Like a hot poker, it seared through
her arm. "No! Oh, dear Lord, this hurts, get it off me!"
A howl sounded on the breeze. Lenore
stopped struggling and listened. Was it caused by the wind through
the trees or something much more frightening? She shivered and drew
her body closer to the clamp, curling into a ball. How long would
she have to remain here before someone found her? And would she be
found alive? What about her family, they were depending on her to
find help.
"Lord," she whispered, "please send
them help."
Chapter Two
Heston Miller paused at the sound of
the faint scream. He'd traveled half the distance home; to turn
back now would leave him walking in total darkness.
The sound came again. He cocked his
head to listen. It was like no other he had heard in the
wilderness. The traps were reset, had he caught something again so
soon? With a sigh, he turned around in his tracks. "Whatever you
are, you'd better be worth it 'Cause come tomorrow, I'll need all
the extra cash I can come up with."
The walk back was covered quickly
because of his previous path. Heston came near his first trap and
paused. With his rifle ready, he slowly stepped around the bend.
Empty. He peered through the trees, thankful for the filtering
moonlight.
The second trap proved just as empty.
He considered turning back when the sound of sobbing reached his
ears. Sobbing?
Heston quickened his pace. Wolves
often frequented this part of the forest, he couldn't waste any
time. Soon, he came upon the reason for the cry. Huddled into a
fetal position was a woman. Her arm entangled with a limb and his
trap.
Lord, let her be
okay.
Heston knelt down beside her and with
a voice that told of more calm than he felt, he reassured her,
though with his own rough manner. "Calm yourself down, ma'am. I'm
going to open the trap, and you pull your arm back quick as you
can."
Frightened, doe-shaped eyes peered up
at him with astonishment. "Thank you, sir. The Lord has surely
heard my cry." Her lips were blue and her words were spoken with
the slurred effects of the cold.
Heston pulled the trap open and reset
it as the woman slowly pulled her arm free. He'd told her to do so
with speed, but she was so cold, he realized it probably took all
she had to move at all.
"Can you stand?"
Slowly, she nodded. He steadied her
with his hand on her undamaged arm. She straightened to a stance,
but with one step, her legs buckled beneath her. Heston caught her
against his chest then swung her up in his capable arms. Her body
trembled against his. "Don't worry, you'll be warm
soon."
But would it be in time? Frost-bite
did awful things to ones hands and feet.
Awkward as it was, Heston trudged
through the forest with his gun and fresh hides thrown over his
back and the woman in his arms. Snowflakes swirled around him with
relaxed ease. The earlier storm had spent its fury, leaving a
peaceful atmosphere in its wake. At least it felt peaceful to him,
but what to this woman. Had she trudged through the storm? And from
where? There wasn't anything for miles around.
Relief flooded his chest as the cabin
came into view. Smoke still curled from the chimney promising a
welcome warmth. He threw open the door and kicked it shut behind
him with his foot. Striding the short distance across the room, he
laid the woman on his bed. "I'll get some more warmth in here and
we'll check out your hands and feet."
A feeble voice tried to reply but
exhaustion had laid its claim. Heston didn't try to encourage her
to repeat her words. Instead, he readied a pot to heat
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