Mary Connealy Read Online Free PDF

shed his coat long ago.
    Amy sighed so loudly Braden stopped. He looked back to see if she was in danger and saw a huge grin on her normally somber face. Her white teeth flashed.
    “We are here.” She faced the woods.
    “Your father’s cabin is near here?” Braden looked at the steeply pitched, heavily wooded area. Amy was visibly exhausted. Even smiling, she had dark circles under her eyes, and despite the brisk spring air, her face had an unnatural pallor.
    “No, it is here.” Amy pointed into the forest. Suddenly it popped out at him. A cabin sat about one hundred feet back into the woods. The place blended completely with the rough-and-tumble woods.
    Braden noticed they were out of the wind and no snow lay on the ground around the cabin. A shaft of sunlight shone down through a gap and shared its generous warmth with the house. A man wise in the ways of the wilderness had chosen this spot. With a sigh of relief, Braden knew that despite the odd, tumbled-down look of the cabin, the man inside possessed wood smarts and would keep his daughter safe.
    Braden looked at Amy. She glowed.
    “Let’s go say hello. Then you can point me toward my brother’s place.”
    Amy nodded, but then her eyes narrowed, and the bright smile faded from her face.
    “Your brother’s on up the stream a piece.” Wily’s voice sounded farther away than it should be. “I’m gonna keep headin’ up.”
    Braden heard the faint scrape of the bottom of the umiak on the rocky river bottom and turned to see Wily moving along.
    “Something is wrong.” Amy strode toward the cabin.
    As Braden hurried after her, he realized that there was more to this house than he’d first thought. A second room had been built on at an angle. The roof sloped sharply upward, most likely to keep the snow from piling up, but it looked sizable enough for a loft.
    Dark furs hung on the front, a long one that must cover the front door and two smaller ones that could only be windows. Patches of cedar bark and branches made it resemble a stack of trees blown into a pile by the wind.
    “I can see something’s wrong. It’s been damaged.” Braden decided he’d help with the repairs.
    “No, it always looks like this.”
    “The windows have always been broken out?”
    “No, we have always covered the windows with furs.” Amy arched an eyebrow at him as if he’d said something ridiculous. “Where would a person get glass?” She hurried on.
    Braden stayed at her side. “Then what’s wrong with the place?” By the look on her face, he knew whatever bothered her was serious.
    “There is smoke coming out of the chimney.” Amy’s breath sounded labored as she quickened her pace.
    That’s a silly reason to get so upset . “Maybe your da needed to heat the place up. Maybe he’s cooking.”
    “Papa? Need heat or cook inside? This late in the spring?” Amy began running toward the house.

Five
    The journey up river had almost finished Amy. She’d used every ounce of her strength, tapping deep inside for the courage to go on, knowing she would soon rest in Papa’s house.
    As she rushed toward her home, a whisper on the wind, one she didn’t care to heed, told her to wait on the Lord. She’d heard this ever since she’d awakened after the accident in Seattle, determined to leave the city, but she’d ignored it. Yes, God might be trying to make things easy for her, but she didn’t need easy. She could take care of herself.
    Her legs wobbled as she forced them forward. Her ribs punished her for running. She clutched them to quiet the pain and held herself erect by sheer will. It shamed her to rely on someone else. She should have been able to take care of herself.
    Shaking off her fear, Amy reached for the grizzly pelt that kept the wind out of the cracks in the door.
    She hesitated, remembering her manners learned from the McGraws. It was home; she should just go on in. But she’d been gone so long. She stood on the slab of gray rock centered in front of