Passage West Read Online Free PDF Page B

The dust and grime that had clogged her throat and burned her eyes along the trail were now forgotten. Her father’s vicious temper couldn’t reach her here. She wouldn’t think about yesterday, and the beautiful mother she missed and the farm that had been her security. There would be no tomorrow, with its torturous trail and endless work and uncertain future. There was only this peace, this tranquillity, this gently flowing water. If she could, she would stay here forever. She glanced at the sky. Already the darkness was growing lighter on the horizon. Dawn would be here soon, and with it reality.
    With strong strokes, she swam to shore and pulled herself up the bank. She shivered in the morning air and dried herself quickly, then slipped her white muslin night shift over her head. Slim and straight, it fell nearly to her ankles. Running her mother’s tortoiseshell comb through the wet tangles, she tossed her head and her hair settled like a silken veil across her shoulders and down her back. Bending, she picked up her wet clothes and draped them over her arm. Then she turned and gave a last lingering look at the river.
    The light of the full moon cast an ethereal glow on the figure on the bank. Her pale gown became opaque, revealing every curve and line of the body beneath it. Rourke came to his knees, wishing he could go to her, touch her. It would be enough. Just to touch her, to feel the warmth of her milky flesh. In that simple white gown she seemed to belong to another world. Clean. Untouched by the terrible war that had devastated this land. Untouched by all the greed and hatred and bitterness. An angel. One touch from her and he would be cleansed.
    He clenched his fists tightly and watched as she picked her way through the grass. As she passed, the wonderful scent of bayberry wafted over him.
    He waited, willing himself not to move. What he had glimpsed tonight was a special gift. One he would carry with him on the long, tormented nights. But if she were to discover his presence, the vision would be forever shattered. And so he waited, shivering in the morning mist, until he thought she was gone.
    The gun he’d continued to hold at his side slipped from his sweating palm and fell to the ground. Startled, Abby turned toward the sound. Under his breath, Rourke swore, then stiffened as she parted the tall grass and stared at him in shock.
    “You!”
    He saw the stunned look on her face that slowly turned to realization, then anger. “Miss Market, it isn’t what you think.”
    “You scum. You vile, evil monster!” Bearing down on him with her arms filled with wet clothing, she began to beat him about the head and chest.
    Rourke was helpless to defend himself against this raging little whirlwind of fury. He couldn’t hit a woman, and it was impossible to stop her blows without pinning her to the ground. Backing up to evade her, he stumbled. Instantly she pounced on him, dropping her clothes and pummeling him with her fists.
    “You watched me. Without making a sound, you hid yourself here and watched me. You horrible animal. You watched me undress and bathe. You concealed yourself here in the grass to spy on me.”
    Standing, he caught her fists, easily pinning her. His voice was low and angry. “You’ve got it all wrong. I came here to retrieve my clothes. You came up on me too suddenly. I had no choice.”
    “No choice.” In her anger, a tear threatened, and she dropped her head to hide it from his view. “A gentleman would have made himself known to me so that I could have fled before”—she hiccuped and swallowed back the sob—“I removed my clothes.”
    “Miss Market…”
    “You disgust me, Mr. Rourke. You’re lower than a snake.” With a shove, she pushed him backward.
    Poised on the bank of the river, Rourke struggled to keep his balance. For a moment he seemed to hang suspended, then, unable to stop the momentum, dropped backward into the river. He came up sputtering and swearing.
    With