Dorothy Garlock - [Annie Lash 01] Read Online Free PDF Page B

of them stepped forward and grasped the ox by the horns, and although it bawled and resisted, they urged it onto the gently bobbing craft. Berry moved back and held on to the wagon frame as she took her first tentative steps onto the wet planks. The men dragged the balking ox to the front, looped a rope around each of its horns, and tied them securely to a brace. Another man stood ready with a hammer to coldcock the beast if it became frightened and tried to bolt.
    Berry could tell by the commotion behind that the men were having difficulty getting the mules aboard. She knew Israel would be useless unless he was told what to do, so she edged her way to the rear of the wagon. To her surprise, she saw the trader. She recognized him by his flat-crowned hat; he was leading Asa’s saddlehorse on board and instructing Israel on how to hold it. Two rivermen stood beside the mules and more men lashed the wagon to the deck. This done, crates of goods were stacked beneath the wagons.
    It was scary but fascinating to Berry. She returned to the front of the wagon, wanting to share the excitement with Rachel. Rachel was not enjoying the experience in the least. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the seat, and her face was gray with fright.
    “Rachel?” Berry started to climb up on the wheel. “Don’t be scared, Rachel. They’ve poled this boat across a hundred times. They know what they’re doin’.”
    “Hold on, little gal.”
    The drawl came from behind her. When Berry turned, her eyes were level with a broad chest covered with a leather shirt that fitted like a glove. Her eyes traveled up and up to a weathered face and bronze hair that swept back from a wide forehead and hung to shoulders that seemed a yard wide. The giant had twinkling blue eyes, and a stub of a pipe was in his mouth. He was the biggest man she’d ever seen, but rawboned big, without an extra ounce of flesh on his body.
    “Who’re you?”
    “Fain. I’m goin’ to give ya a hand and see ya get across.” He looked up at Rachel. “Ya gotta come down off that seat, ma’am. It’s a mite safer for ya to sit on the raft. I’ll get ya an oilskin ta sit on.”
    “No! No . . .” Rachel shook her head. She looked as if she would be sick.
    “We can’t have ya sittin’ up there,” the man said firmly. He reached for her. “I won’t let ya fall. I’m goin’ to hold on to ya. Ya can count on it.”
    Rachel’s eyes swung to Berry. “He won’t, Rachel.” Berry laughed. “From the looks of him, he could lift that ox down from there.”
    “Thanky, purty little gal.” The man’s laugh was a soft, rolling chuckle.
    It could have been what changed Rachel’s mind. She leaned over and put her hands on his shoulders. He grasped her beneath the arms, carefully lifted her over the wheel, and set her gently on the floor of the raft. She swayed, lowered her chin to her chest, and refused to let him go. “Oh . . . oh . . .”
    “It’s all right to be scared. Only a fool ain’t scared some,” the giant murmured to the top of Rachel’s head. “Spread the cloth on the floor, little ’un, so she can sit.” Berry spread the cloth and the man eased Rachel down. “Sit right down, ma’am. When we get goin’ I’ll be right by ya. Don’t you worry none. I can swim like a beaver for all the size of me.”
    Berry sat down beside Rachel facing the back of the raft. She saw Simon Witcher standing beside Israel and her pa’s sorrel mare. Why hadn’t he come to speak to them?
    “Why’re you helping us?” she asked the big man.
    “Wal, now, a man’d hafta be daft to not help purty womenfolk.” He smiled broadly, holding the pipe stem in his teeth.
    “Did Mr. Witcher tell you to help us?”
    “Not just like that. We knowed ya needed help, and being the fine gentlemen that we are, we jist naturallike pitched right in.” His clean-shaven face was alive with amusement. He was like a big friendly bear.
    Berry’s laugh floated out over the water like