River of Mercy Read Online Free PDF

alone?
    ANONYMOUS
    G ant had a sparse supper, cooking for just himself with Asa having been gone the better part of three days now. He wandered outside and began walking with no particular destination in mind. It was good to just get out and exercise his still less than agile leg. Perhaps Doc was right, and the slight limp would be with him for the rest of his life. No matter. Being able to get out and around as he was doing tonight was enough. An inconvenience, but enough.
    He came to a stop on the crest of the hill behind his house. He lifted the lantern a little higher, using his free hand to hike up his collar around his neck as he stood thinking.
    A man who couldn’t find some wonder in a night like this was either blind or numb. The November wind had blown its way down the mountains and moved on, leaving a stillness behind in which even the softest night sound seemed to echo. Fog hung heavy over the trees up here and even thicker on the valley below. Only the thinnest of the moon’s light managed to squeeze its way past the clouds, spraying a fine, shimmering mist over the woods and the small settlement of Riverhaven.
    From here, the smell of the river retreated, overcome by the spicy scent of pine and falling leaves and wood smoke. Every now and then the mournful sound of a boat’s horn could be heard.
    Gant felt a little guilty about leaving Mac back at the house. The great hound loved their nightly walks. But with Asa gone and more fugitives due to show up any day now—in addition to the runaways who arrived the night before last and were now lodged in his barn—he felt more comfortable with Mac on the premises to alert him to visitors. He’d saved him a beef bone from supper to help make up for any perceived neglect.
    In any case, he should be getting back. He’d been gone long enough.
    He almost always delayed going indoors after a walk, especially at night. He loved the nights here. After years of living on the crowded, noisy streets of New York and working in the nearly deafening clamor of a Brooklyn shipyard, this quiet, idyllic little river valley settlement was a balm to his spirit.
    Even during the days of piloting his boat on the river, he had never known the gentle peace he’d found here in Riverhaven, the healing calm of this place that so subtly but surely nourished his soul. In this blessedly tranquil valley, he could live and work and breathe in cleanliness and purity and freedom and simply be.
    His life had taken on a previously unknown clarity and purpose. Most days he felt nothing lacking, nothing wanting.
    Except for Rachel. His want of her, his love for her, was like a raw and open sore that burned continually within, as if to remind him that his long-sought peace was a fickle, fragile thing.
    He pulled in a long breath and started walking again, only to stop dead at a rustling sound somewhere behind him. He glanced up, peering into the stand of trees that lined the rise of the hill.
    He waited, and the sound came again, this time with a low rumbling.
    Gant stared hard into the dense fringe of woods. He saw movement, a shadow—and then the glint of eyes looking into his.
    His throat went dry, and he thought to run. Instead he remained still as a stone, watching the thing that stood watching him.
    If it was what he suspected, should he back off or stay as he was and make some noise? Maybe a lot of noise. But he still wasn’t exactly sure what he was seeing, so he waited.
    Suddenly a cloud passed across the moon just enough to give him a better look. At the same time the shadow emerged from the foliage around the trees and became real.
    He’d seen wildcats before, but never one this big. It was easily forty or more pounds of muscle. Had to be a male. A big male. Those steady, staring eyes measured him intently, and Gant measured the cat right back. Clearly he was trying to decide whether the human creature was prey or just a nuisance.
    Wildcats— bobcats