Boyett-Compo Charlotte - Wind Tales 01 Read Online Free PDF

moved toward her. When the female
    froze, she sidled up to her, sniffed at her legs, then moved out of her path as though granting her
    permission to leave.
    “The mutt won't hurt you,” Nick said as he stood up from the stranger and moved to the heating water in
    the grate. “She's just a big pussycat, ain't you, girl?"
    The big dog sniffed as though in disdain, then trotted over to the warmth of the fireplace. Lying down,
    she lowered her massive head to her paws and lay watching Nick, alternately switching her gaze from her
    master to the human the dog instinctively knew was helping.
    Gillian didn't breath easy, though, until she was well away from the monster dog. Her legs were still
    weak from all the walking she and her brother had done in the last few days and her stomach was
    rumbling with hunger. Lightheaded with the need for food, she moved about the vast kitchen,
    disappointed when all she could find were a few shriveled potatoes and carrots and a mushy rutabaga. A
    search of the pantry revealed a basket of hedge apples, more shriveled root vegetables and a few
    handfuls of wormy flour and meal.
    “That's it?” she said, searching every cabinet and bin in the place. “That's all there is?"
    A snort came from behind her and Gillian spun around, her eyes going wide. Sheon heavy paws over to
    the outside door. She paused, looked around, then turned her attention to the door.
    “You want to go out?” Gillian asked, seeing where the dog's gaze was glued: the latch. When the dog
    snorted again, she carefully slid her back along the table, then reached out to unhook the latch. “How
    about bringing back a rabbit while you're out doing your duty,” she said dryly as she pulled the door
    open an inch or two.
    The big dog bobbed her head as though in agreement, wedged her wet nose in the opening, then loped
    outside into the swirl of snow.
    Gillian sighed heavily, hating to go out again, but they would need wood for the fire and she'd rather do
    that than be upstairs bathing a strange man. Pulling her scarf more closely around her throat, she followed
    the dog out into the blizzard, hoping she remembered where she'd seen the small woodpile.
    Nick lifted the unconscious man and laid him-naked and as still as death-on the bed. He piled every
    available piece of cover over the stranger, then wadded up a few loose pieces of ragged clothing and sat
    them in front of the fire. Once the clothing was sufficiently warm, he would wrap the man's feet with them.
    “There isn't much wood, Nick,” Gillian informed him as she entered with an armload of snow-speckled
    logs. “But there's an ax in the kitchen."
    “I'll see to it,” Nick answered. “Did you find any food?"
    Gillian shrugged. “Precious little.” She couldn't see the stranger's face from where she stood, but her
    tender heart had already gone out to him. “I found some root vegetables and I can boil them down to
    broth, but there was no meat or lard, only a handful or two of flour."
    “Poor sod,” Nick mumbled. “He's been living like this for quite awhile.” He looked about the room. “All
    alone, except for the dog."
    “Surely this isn't his home,” she replied.
    “Aye, but it is,” Nick said.
    “How do you know?"
    “Come and have a look at him, Gillian,” Nick said.
    Gillian stood up from wedging another log in the grate and went to the bed. She looked inquisitively at
    her brother, then turned her gaze to the unconscious man. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my god!”
    she gasped. “It can't be!"
    “Aye, but it is,” Nick said, nodding. “It's him, all right."
    Gillian turned shocked eyes to her brother. “Then that means...” She shuddered, violently. “Oh, Nick!"
    Her brother nodded again. “It means we're still in Virago.” He plowed his hand through his damp hair.
    “About ten miles from where we thought we were."
    [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Eight
    He was shivering so badly he could barely draw breath, yet his body