White Dawn Read Online Free PDF

Emily glanced around frantically. She had no idea what to do. Should she remove the arrow or wait? “Please,” she whispered. “Help me. I don’t know what to do.” Deep in her heart, Emily knew it was too late, but she couldn’t give up without a fight. There had to be something she could do. Pressure on her fingers drew her attention back to her mother.
    “Locket. Take it. Yours. Have to tell you…before I go—”
    “No, Ma. It’s yours.”
    The woman attempted a weak smile. “Father… Truth—” Her hand fumbled toward her neckline.
    “Wait. I’ll do it.” Emily didn’t want her mother to exert herself. She knew about her mother’s locket, how it was worn pinned to the inside of her chemise. Gently she removed the locket and held it in her hands. It felt cold, like her mother’s fingers.
    “Sorry, child. My—” Another spasm hit.
    Emily gently wiped the blood from her mother’s lips. “Mother! Mother!”
    “—fault. Not his. Father…made…me…”
    Alarmed at her mother’s growing weakness and the steady trickle of blood seeping down the side of her mouth, Emily begged, “Don’t talk, Ma. Please.” Tears streamed down her face.
    Her mother continued: “…always loved you. Go to Kentucky…where you…born. Matthew Sommers…find…” Beatrice Ambrose paused, then spoke again, her voice filled with desperate strength. She lifted her head. “Mission—Millicente…knows the truth. She was going to take us to him. She knows…where to find…your father… Good man. Go to him.”
    Confused, Emily stared down at her mother as she tried to make sense of the jumble of words. But before she could say anything, ask anything, her mother gave a final gasp.
    “Love you—” And with that, her head rolled to the side, all life gone.
    Emily stared at her mother’s still body in disbelief. “Ma?” She couldn’t be dead, couldn’t have gone. “Ma, please don’t leave me,” she said in a sob. Then, leaning over her mother, her locket clutched in one hand, Emily cried.
    After what seemed like a long time, she lifted her head. Around her, the dark birds were watching. They inched closer, their long wings outstretched as they squabbled for position.
    Jumping to her feet, Emily shouted and chased them away, watched the birds soar up into the air and circle. Turning, she saw her father sprawled nearby. Going to him, she bent over and called his name. She shook his shoulders but got no response.
    Returning to her mother’s side, she sat, her knees drawn to her chest, unable to comprehend that she was truly alone. Opening her fists, she stared at the locket. Inside, twin ovals with her parents’ images stared out at her. Fresh tears welled up as she stared at a much younger image of her mother. On the opposite side a sketch of her father stared back.
    Hate rose inside her. How could he have done this to them? Her mother had wanted to return to civilization, to the east, fearing that this untamed land was no place for her or Emily. Her father had refused to listen to her, or to any of the others who’d tried to warn him of the dangers out here.
    Furious that Timothy Ambrose’s blind faith and religious zeal had ultimately caused her mother’s death, Emily scratched at his likeness, unable to bear looking upon it. Finally she tore it out of the locket. To her surprise, she found another portrait hidden beneath. Peering close, she saw immediately that it wasn’t her father, but the face of a stranger.
    The young man depicted appeared around the same age as her mother in the other picture. He had light hair—much lighter than her mother’s. In the portrait, it looked nearly white—like Emily’s own. Recalling her mother’s jumbled words, and her father’s comments, the inconceivable truth dawned. If she’d understood her mother correctly, this man, a stranger named Matthew Sommers, was her blood father.
    Timothy Ambrose had not been!
    Stunned, Emily stared at the man her mother must have