Dorothy Clark Read Free Page B

the hills for him.
    Cole climbed the steps to the sawmill deck and stepped under the shingled roof, walked by the silent saws and entered the attached office. He stepped behind the partition he’d built, jammed his hat onto one of the pegs he’d driven into the wall, shucked his shirt and hung it on another peg, then sat on the wood edge of his cot and tugged off his boots.
    The horror and disgust, regret and guilt that had weighed so heavily on him when he’d learned of Payne’s actions had returned full force when he’d looked into Sadie Spencer’s eyes and now sat like a rock in his stomach—though why it should he didn’t understand. He’d stayed in Pinewood and tried to find Payne to bring him back to face justice in spite of the disgust and distrust of the irate villagers who’d watched his every move with suspicion. He’d trudged countless times to the outcropping of rock where the men said they’d lost all trace of Payne’s trail to see if he could find something they had missed. It wasn’t for lack of trying that he’d failed. He had no reason to feel guilty. But the way she’d looked at him...
    He yanked off his socks, flung them over his boot tops, rose and snatched the soap and a towel from the make-do washstand. The rough puncheons scraped against his bare feet as he marched to the end of the sawmill deck, dropped the towel and dove into the deep pool formed by the stone dam. The shock of the icy mountain-stream water drove all thought from his mind.
    He soaped his hair, threw the soap up onto the deck, did a surface dive and swam upstream underwater to let the current from the overflow carry the soap film away.
    If only it could carry away his troubled thoughts that had resurfaced. He kicked his trouser-clad legs, dug hard and deep with his arms and circled around the pond until his shoulders and arms screamed for mercy and his lungs burned for air. What sort of depravity coursed through his brother’s veins that he could look at a woman as delicately beautiful, as quiet and refined as Sadie Spencer and then—
    He arched and dove deep, swam to the center of the gently rippling water, flipped over onto his back and stared up at the stars, bright against the dark sky. Peaceful evening sounds filled the night as the water lapped over his chest, but the fear he’d been carrying around for four years wouldn’t leave. Wash me clean, Lord, wash me clean. Don’t let that violence and depravity be in me.
    Bats darted and swooped overhead in erratic patterns as they snatched insects from the air. An owl hooted. Another answered. Something rustled through the brush and grasses on the bank. Something big.
    A she-bear and her two cubs ambled toward the water. Last year’s cubs, by the size of them. He moved his arms beneath the surface to stay afloat but stationary without causing a ripple and hoped the cubs weren’t in the mood for a swim. Mama Bear reared up on her hind legs and stared out over the pond, snuffled.
    His moonlight swim was over.
    He drew in air, sank out of sight beneath the water and stroked hard for the deck ladder, leaving the bears behind. If only he could outdistance the fears that plagued him.
    * * *
    She strolled along the path, humming softly, the basket of berries she’d picked swinging at her side.
    Payne Aylward stepped out of the woods onto the path ahead, his tall, broad-shouldered frame large in the sunlight filtering through the leafy treetops. The glitter in his dark gray eyes frightened her. She stopped.
    He smiled, his teeth white against his black beard. “I been watching you, Sadie.” He stepped forward, reached for her.
    * * *
    Sadie bolted upright gasping for air, her heart pounding, her body quaking. Moonlight flowed in the windows, bathed the objects in the dark room in silvery radiance. She stared at the blanket chest at the foot of her bed, the dark blue-and-white cross and crown woven coverlet that had warmed her every night of her childhood. “It’s all