Forget Me Not Read Online Free PDF Page B

He heaved to his feet, hauling her bodily along with him, and bolted for the cover of the woods.
    The wagon rattled to a halt as one man drew a long bore musket. A cold rush washed over her. “Brian, look out!”
    The shot went high, slamming into a tree above their heads. “By Christ,” Brian muttered, ducking his head away from the shower of splinters. He grabbed her upper arm, planting her firmly in front of him, once again positioning himself between her and immediate harm. “Run straight into the trees. Don’t look back for anythin’. We’ll lose the bastards in the thicket.”
    Feet churching beneath her, Lydia obeyed running blindly through the wood. Leaves and gnarled branches slapped her face and tore at her breeches. Her lungs burned, but still she pressed on, reassured by the steady thud of Brian’s footfalls behind her; as long as she was moving she could hold herself together. A clearing appeared directly ahead of them, she turned to avoid the open space, but Brian grabbed her hand, guiding her into the field. Midway across, he looped an arm about her waist dragging her down into the tall grass beside him.
    “What are you doing?”  Unwittingly she whimpered, fighting his hold. This is madness!  “Why, for the love of God, are we lying in the middle of an open field with naught but a foot of grass shielding us from certain death?”
    “Listen to me for once ,” he ordered, “and lie down.”  Brian locked a strong arm across her middle, drawing her into the warm security of his chest.
    Her body shook with such force she was sure the rattle of her bones was audible to the murderers’ ears. Utterly exposed, Lydia wanted nothing more than to wake from the miserable nightmare consuming her life. If only it was a nightmare. If only she could open her eyes, see the midnight blue canopy above her bed, and realize none of this had ever happened. A hard pit solidified in her stomach as the realization she may never see home again struck… hard. Suddenly the whole of her body itched with the need to run. “We’re going to die,” she rasped, balling fistfuls of grass into her hands as though rooting herself to the spot.
    Brian speared her with an urgent, penetrating look. “Hush,” he breathed, pressing calloused fingers to her lips. “Lie still.”
    “Where did they go?” The befuddled voice of Keith’s henchman rang out over the clearing. “It’s like the two of  ‘em disappeared into thin air. Like ghosts.”
    “Impossible,” the second brigand scoffed. “They’re ‘ere, and we’d best be findin’ ‘em before they have a chance to escape. Mister Keith’ll have our hides if we go home without proof that the little bitch and Donnelly are dead. How are you with trackin’, mate?”
    “A fair sight better than you are with shooting, Roark,” disdain dripped from the man’s tone. “I can’t believe you missed the bastard!  Donnelly was only ten feet away and his back’s near as broad as a barn.”
    “Shut up, Jackson. I sure as hell didn’t see you trying to stop them.”
    Lydia blanched, near out of her mind as the crunch of booted feet drew nearer. How exactly had all of this happened?  When had life spun so suddenly outside the realm of her control?  Not that anything more than choosing what color to wear had ever been in her control, but at least she’d been safe.
    Lord, she prayed, please let us live through this!
    Silent tears scorched her cheeks. Crunch. The men were close. Snap. Too close. Discovery was inevitable. A sob hovered at the base of her throat and she bit the inside of her cheek until the tang of blood leeched onto her tongue. She and Brian would be killed in a matter of minutes. All she wanted was to sink into the ground and disappear forever.
    “They’re going to find us, we have to move,” she rasped, the hoarse whisper hysterical even to her ears.
    Their eyes locked and the intensity in Brian’s eyes transformed from militaristic efficiency to a