graceful.
Caroline gaped, willing the apparition to be no more than a figment of her imagination. When he didn’t vanish, but instead kept coming toward her, she started to back away. The bucket slipped unnoticed from her hand and rolled clanking down the way she had come, spilling its contents as it went. The jug dropped too, with a heavy thud. It landed on its side in the tall grass, but, being stoppered, held on to its contents.
“Unnhh!” The man glared at her, gesturing fiercely—and that was enough for Caroline. She raised both hands in fists to her mouth and screamed.
Behind her she heard a volley of shouts, and realized with devout thankfulness that the Mathiesons were somewhere close at hand. The savage heard too, and stopped as if undecided. Caroline screamed again, and turned to run. Even as she did so Raleigh hurtled past her, barking ferociously and flying toward the savage. The man took one look at the huge dog, turned on his heel, and fled.
“What the devil?” Despite his limp, it was Matt who reached her first. Whether he had been the closest or whether her obvious terror had spurred him to superhuman effort she had no idea. All she knew as she threw herself against his chest was that he was solid and safe and known and there , and that in her fright she needed him. She clung, gasping, unable to force out words, her face pressed into the hard warmth of his chest, her fingers wrapped in the soft linen of his shirt. Against her breasts she could feel the unyielding strength of him; her thighs pressed against the iron muscles of his legs. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of man—and then his arms, which had wrapped around her, instinctively, she thought, dropped. His hands came up to close over her elbows and thrust her back from him. The gesture was unnecessary. As soon as Caroline realized where her fright had put her, she was pulling away. A blush suffused her cheeks. Even as she colored up, her gaze met his.
For just a moment, as they looked at each other, the memory of the morning hung between them. Caroline’s eyes widened at what she again thought she readin his. They were bright blue, blazing blue in the hard darkness of his face, restless eyes, wanting—and then, before she could be sure, or even respond with a shudder of distaste, they changed. Even as Robert and Thomas and Daniel thundered up beside them, the heat went out of the blue depths. They grew shuttered, cold, and distant, leaving Caroline to wonder if she had mistaken the brief flare of masculine awareness. Had she only imagined, out of her own oversensitivity to such matters, the hunger she thought she saw in his eyes?
“What happened?” Daniel demanded, panting. Matt’s hands released their grip on her elbows. Still shaken and unsure, Caroline pulled her eyes away from Matt’s to look at his brother.
“It was a savage,” she answered in an unsteady voice, pointing back toward where the man had stood. “He came out of the woods over there.”
“All that fuss over an Indian?” Robert said in a scathing tone. Caroline’s gaze slewed around to him, but before she could speak Thomas forestalled her with a shout.
“Our food!” he yelped, pointing back down the knob toward where only the apples and onions remained of her carefully prepared luncheon. Raleigh, an expression of what looked like utter delight on his face, was wolfing down a loaf of bread. Even as the men bellowed in unison, the dog gulped down that loaf and grabbed the second, shaking it free of its cloth.
“Drop it! Drop it, you mangy beast!”
All four men started running down the knob in instinctive response. Raleigh, sensing that his prize wasabout to be stolen, raced into the woods with the loaf in his mouth and Robert and Thomas in shouting pursuit. Matt and Daniel, already perceiving their mission’s uselessness, had left off the chase a quarter of the way and halfway down the knob, respectively. Feeling somehow guilty—-although how
Caroline gaped, willing the apparition to be no more than a figment of her imagination. When he didn’t vanish, but instead kept coming toward her, she started to back away. The bucket slipped unnoticed from her hand and rolled clanking down the way she had come, spilling its contents as it went. The jug dropped too, with a heavy thud. It landed on its side in the tall grass, but, being stoppered, held on to its contents.
“Unnhh!” The man glared at her, gesturing fiercely—and that was enough for Caroline. She raised both hands in fists to her mouth and screamed.
Behind her she heard a volley of shouts, and realized with devout thankfulness that the Mathiesons were somewhere close at hand. The savage heard too, and stopped as if undecided. Caroline screamed again, and turned to run. Even as she did so Raleigh hurtled past her, barking ferociously and flying toward the savage. The man took one look at the huge dog, turned on his heel, and fled.
“What the devil?” Despite his limp, it was Matt who reached her first. Whether he had been the closest or whether her obvious terror had spurred him to superhuman effort she had no idea. All she knew as she threw herself against his chest was that he was solid and safe and known and there , and that in her fright she needed him. She clung, gasping, unable to force out words, her face pressed into the hard warmth of his chest, her fingers wrapped in the soft linen of his shirt. Against her breasts she could feel the unyielding strength of him; her thighs pressed against the iron muscles of his legs. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of man—and then his arms, which had wrapped around her, instinctively, she thought, dropped. His hands came up to close over her elbows and thrust her back from him. The gesture was unnecessary. As soon as Caroline realized where her fright had put her, she was pulling away. A blush suffused her cheeks. Even as she colored up, her gaze met his.
For just a moment, as they looked at each other, the memory of the morning hung between them. Caroline’s eyes widened at what she again thought she readin his. They were bright blue, blazing blue in the hard darkness of his face, restless eyes, wanting—and then, before she could be sure, or even respond with a shudder of distaste, they changed. Even as Robert and Thomas and Daniel thundered up beside them, the heat went out of the blue depths. They grew shuttered, cold, and distant, leaving Caroline to wonder if she had mistaken the brief flare of masculine awareness. Had she only imagined, out of her own oversensitivity to such matters, the hunger she thought she saw in his eyes?
“What happened?” Daniel demanded, panting. Matt’s hands released their grip on her elbows. Still shaken and unsure, Caroline pulled her eyes away from Matt’s to look at his brother.
“It was a savage,” she answered in an unsteady voice, pointing back toward where the man had stood. “He came out of the woods over there.”
“All that fuss over an Indian?” Robert said in a scathing tone. Caroline’s gaze slewed around to him, but before she could speak Thomas forestalled her with a shout.
“Our food!” he yelped, pointing back down the knob toward where only the apples and onions remained of her carefully prepared luncheon. Raleigh, an expression of what looked like utter delight on his face, was wolfing down a loaf of bread. Even as the men bellowed in unison, the dog gulped down that loaf and grabbed the second, shaking it free of its cloth.
“Drop it! Drop it, you mangy beast!”
All four men started running down the knob in instinctive response. Raleigh, sensing that his prize wasabout to be stolen, raced into the woods with the loaf in his mouth and Robert and Thomas in shouting pursuit. Matt and Daniel, already perceiving their mission’s uselessness, had left off the chase a quarter of the way and halfway down the knob, respectively. Feeling somehow guilty—-although how
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