Authors: Connie Mason
Cole sent Sandy a look that would have frozen the ears off a brass monkey. “No. Dawn is my responsibility. I’ll find her. Tell Ashley she can start planning a wedding for next week. And tell Tanner I’m taking him up on that offer of a piece of land. I want to start building immediately. Dawn has never had a real home. I want to give her everything she deserves.”
“I hope that includes your love,” Sandy said sternly.
Cole laughed. “Since when have you become a maudlin romantic, you old fraud? I love Dawn. Without her, my life has no meaning.”
“I hope you told her that.”
“I did. She chose not to believe me.”
“Bring Dawn back, Cole. Now get out of here. I’ll relay your messages to your family.”
The heavens opened up, pelting Dawn with huge drops of icy rain. She dashed water from her rain-stung eyes and squinted into the sodden half-darkness of the storm-shrouded day. Suddenly a bolt of fire cleaved the heavens, burying itself in the earth. A crash of thunder followed, shaking the ground beneath her. To Dawn it appeared as if God were wreaking vengeance upon the earth and all its creatures.
The narrow road she followed cut a path between lofty pine, spruce and hemlock trees. Due to the inclement weather, muddy roads and swollen creeks and rivers, fellow travelers were conspicuously absent. Dawn urged her horse through the sucking mud as a mixture of rain and ice poured relentlessly down upon her. Lightning streaked across the gray sky and thunder rattled
the heavens. With sinking heart, Dawn realized that her reckless flight might very well cost her her life.
God was punishing her, she thought as she pulled her coat closer around her quaking shoulders. She was cold, so very cold. She had made a terrible mistake. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t she just rejoice in Cole’s return and accept the love he offered? It was time she learned to trust again. Cole had sounded sincere when he’d said he loved her, but some perverse devil inside her had refused to believe him. He had never given her any reason to hope he would come to love her, so why should she believe him? His whole life revolved around a woman he’d sworn to love into eternity.
Dawn shivered violently and huddled deeper into her coat. She was as miserable as she’d ever been. She had effortlessly gone from the frying pan into the fire. For someone who loved a man as deeply as she loved Cole, she’d acted exceedingly foolishly.
Suddenly Wally shied, nearly throwing her. Clinging to his neck, Dawn hung on and searched frantically for the source of danger. What she saw chilled her blood. The bridge spanning a normally quiet and picturesque creek was out, and water was rushing at an alarming speed over the rocky bottom. It was almost as if Fate had ruled against her foolhardy flight, Dawn thought as she turned Wally around. There was nothing left for her now but to return to Oregon City and face Cole’s wrath.
Cole was bound to be irate, she reflected dimly. She had deliberately placed two lives in danger,
hers and that of her unborn child. She wondered if Cole would be happy to learn he was going to be a father. He had mentioned that he wanted to start a family with her, but she’d been too frightened of being hurt again to believe him.
Cold, relentless rain beat down upon her. She felt bruised all over. Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck so close that Dawn could almost taste the scorching tang of it. Her hair stood on edge, and she felt a prickling along her spine. The crash of thunder that followed spooked Wally. Her horse reared, then took off into the woods, ignoring Dawn’s futile attempts to control him. Several tense minutes passed before Dawn had Wally once more in hand and turned him back toward the road, or what she thought was the right direction.
The crude logger’s hut that loomed up from the curtain of mist and rain was a welcome sight. At first, Dawn thought it was a mirage. She blinked, then blinked again. When it did not disappear or waver, she offered a quick prayer of thanksgiving and reined Wally toward the shelter. When she reached the hut she hastily dismounted, retrieved the pillowcase holding her belongings and pushed open the unlatched door. The room was dark and cold, but at least it offered some degree of shelter. She dropped the pillowcase on the floor and ducked back outside to see to Wally. There was no shelter for her drenched mount, but the least she could do for the poor beast was to remove his saddle.
But her plans were foiled when another vivid display of lightning and violent crash of thunder
sent the horse stampeding through the trees. Dawn couldn’t have stopped him had she tried. She was shivering uncontrollably by the time she returned to the hut. Evidently the hut hadn’t been used in a very long time, for it was in a sorry state of disrepair.
The room was sparsely furnished with a small scarred table, two rickety chairs and a narrow cot. Dawn’s eyes lit up when she spied a blanket neatly folded at the foot of the cot. Then she spied the stack of dry kindling and firewood beside the fireplace and she gave a cry of gladness. Her joy was short-lived when she realized that without matches or tinder, the possibility of starting a fire was remote. But she tried to look at the bright side. At least she would have a roof over her head during the height of the storm. And she felt certain that once the storm abated she’d find Wally nearby.
Meanwhile, she had to get out of her sodden clothes. She undressed quickly, shivering violently as she peeled off the wet layers of clothing. Then she rummaged through the pillowcase until she found a reasonably dry shift, shirt and skirt. Once she was dressed, she removed the dusty but serviceable blanket from the bed and pulled it around her.
Cole was colder than he’d ever been in his life, and more frightened. He hadn’t caught up with Dawn yet, and the thought of her out in this storm made him push poor Warrior to the limit of his endurance. Her stubbornness appalled him. Her failure to tell him about the babe she carried made
him furious. It was pure willfulness that had made her endanger that precious life growing inside her.
Thunder and lightning rent the skies, and Cole cursed the capriciousness of winter in Oregon. This infernal rain seemed to have no end or beginning. It just went on and on without any sign of relief. Early this morning it appeared as if the sun was going to break through the clouds, then, as if frightened by the heavy gray clouds, it had retreated and the storm had returned with renewed vengeance.
The road was awash in gluey mud, Cole was covered in grime, and water was running off his slicker, soaking him below the hips.
Suddenly Cole saw something that froze the blood in his veins. The bridge spanning the creek was out. Halting Warrior on the bank of the seething stream, Cole debated whether or not to attempt a crossing. He prayed that Dawn hadn’t been so foolish as to plunge recklessly into the creek. But what if she had? What if even as he hesitated she was struggling to survive in freezing water? That thought caused a painful roaring in his head. He hadn’t passed her on the road, which led him to believe that she had indeed attempted a crossing. He was about to urge Warrior into the raging water when he heard a noise to his left.
Cole’s heart plummeted when he saw a horse burst through the trees onto the road. Wally! Warrior must have recognized his friend, for he snorted a greeting. Wally halted, tossing his head and stomping the mud beneath his hooves.
Cole approached the riderless horse cautiously
lest he frighten the animal away. Wally obliged by waiting patiently for Cole to grab hold of his trailing reins. “Where’s Dawn, boy? What happened?”
Of course, the horse couldn’t answer, but his flaring nostrils and wild eyes gave Cole a hint of what had happened. It didn’t take Cole long to figure out that Wally had been frightened by the violent display of thunder and lightning and had thrown Dawn. That thought was so alarming that Cole put his heels to Warrior and plunged into the woods with Wally in tow.
The next lightning bolt and clap of thunder made Wally go wild, but Cole’s will was greater than the horse’s. Cole rode through the trees like a man possessed, shouting Dawn’s name at the top of his lungs between claps of thunder.
Cole spied the hut through driving sheets of rain, and his heart leaped with fragile hope. He prayed that Dawn had found shelter inside as he leaped from his mount, pausing only long enough to tether both horses to a bush. Just as he took a step toward the hut, a lightning bolt snaked down from the heavens, striking a tree so close to Cole he could smell the acrid odor of burning wood. He had but a moment to call out Dawn’s name before a sturdy branch, split by lightning and set aflame, struck him on the head.
The flash of lightning and roar of thunder that shook the hut badly jolted Dawn. It had struck so close, the odor of fire lingered on the damp air long after the last rumble of thunder vanished. Then, in the calm that followed, she imagined she heard someone call out her name.
Curiosity plagued Dawn. She would not be able
to rest easy until she investigated, even if it had been nothing but the howling wind imitating a human voice. Cautiously she pried open the door. The wind was ferocious, catching the flimsy panel and flinging it from her hands. Peering out the door through the nearly impenetrable curtain of rain, Dawn saw little to rouse her suspicion. She was about to turn back inside when the soft nickering of a horse caught her attention. Had Wally returned? She poked her head through the doorway to widen her range of vision and spied two horses tethered to a bush, their heads bent against the driving wind. Wally and Warrior! That meant Cole … Then she saw him, pinned beneath a fallen branch, one end of which was still smoking but whose flame had been doused by the rain.
“Cole!” She rushed out of the hut, falling to her knees beside him. He was unconscious. Panic-stricken, she realized she had to get him out of the rain and cold immediately.
The branch was heavy but manageable as she lifted it from Cole’s body. He had been struck on the head and bore a lump to prove it. Groaning under the burden, Dawn cast the branch aside and tried to rouse Cole. He didn’t respond. He was as still and unmoving as solid rock. And just as heavy. Incapable of lifting him, Dawn did the next best thing. She grasped him under the arms and dragged him the short distance to the hut, thankful there were no stairs to contend with.
By the time she pulled him all the way inside the hut, she was panting from the exertion. Cole still hadn’t budged or opened his eyes. But he was shivering uncontrollably. And so was she. She
looked longingly at the hearth, wishing there was a way to strike a fire in the hearth before they both froze to death or died of pneumonia. She was wearing her only set of dry clothes and now they were as wet as those she had removed earlier.
Her mind worked frantically. She was desperate enough to try rubbing two sticks together, but fortunately she recalled something that made the attempt unnecessary. Cole always carried matches in a tin in his saddlebags. Cole’s pale face provided the impetus she needed to venture out in the raging storm again to get them. She paused but a moment before plunging through the door and into the solid wall of water. The horses snorted a greeting as Dawn approached, but she was too intent upon her mission to spare an answering pat for them.
Dashing the rain from her eyes, she searched through Cole’s saddlebags, exclaiming in joy and relief when her hand closed on the tin of matches. Clutching them to her breast like something precious, she ran back to the hut, pushing the warped door shut behind her. Cole lay where she’d left him, pale and unmoving.
Her hands were shaking so badly it took three precious matches before the kindling caught. Minutes later a fragile flame ignited the wood, giving forth a promise of warmth. When Dawn was certain the fire would not die, she returned to Cole. His stillness frightened her. Using a piece of her wet petticoat, she washed the blood from his head and inspected his wound. It did not appear serious. The skin was broken but already scabbing
over. Far more worrisome was the blow he’d received to his head.
The small room was heating rapidly. Dawn spread all her wet clothing except for what she wore across the two rickety chairs and on the floor before concentrating on getting Cole out of his clothes. He cooperated not at all, lying like dead weight as she removed his guns and pulled and pushed to strip him of his wet buckskins. When he was nude, she wrapped him in the blanket. After she had made Cole as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, Dawn saw to her own needs. She stripped down to her shift and lay down beside Cole to share his body heat and the blanket. She tried to remain awake, but the events of the day had exhausted her and she nodded off.
Cole was hot. The fires of hell licked at him. He moaned and tried to escape the suffocating heat, but something even hotter than his own burning flesh pressed against him. His head hurt and he moved it cautiously. When he felt strong enough, he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw were walls made of logs. With difficulty he turned his head toward the source of the heat torturing his flesh.
Even with her hair matted against her head and her face smudged with dirt, Dawn was the loveliest sight he’d ever seen. He racked his brain, still foggy and disoriented, but failed to find answers to his questions. Where was he? How had he arrived here, and why did his head hurt like the very devil? Why was he lying naked with Dawn in his arms?
It came to Cole suddenly that the source of scorching heat was Dawn. Her heated flesh had chased the dampness and cold from his bones just as surely as the fire burning cheerily in the hearth. He spied his clothing laid out before the hearth and realized that he had Dawn to thank for that. He could remember nothing beyond chasing through the woods in search of Dawn. Through some quirk of fate, the rescuer had become the rescued. What in the hell had happened?
Dawn sensed movement beside her and struggled to awaken. She was so cozy and warm she resisted as long as she could, but finally she opened her eyes.
“Cole, thank God you’re awake. How do you feel?”