Page 7 of The Winter Rogue
Charlene grabbed the back of his heavy woolen coat and fisted her hands in it.She counted off under her breath and heaved.Together they slid him two inches.
She wanted to cry.He was so heavy, in such pain, and they had at least five feet to go.
Taking in a deep breath, Charlene counted off again, and they tried once more.They got a little farther this time, relief pouring through her chest.She could do this.She would do this.For John!The man was like a father to her, she wouldn’t let him down.They kept doing it over and over again until they finally reached the spot she'd set up for him.
By the time she had him settled and covered with the fur lap robe besides the blankets he'd been using while driving, Charlene was spent.She sat down next to him for a few minutes to catch her breath and muster up some energy.There was still much to do.
If she had thought she was tired earlier, she was done in entirely now, and she still had to go for help—and soon, or the horses would be in awful shape.
Right thing’s first.“John, do you have any idea where we are?”
“What's that, girly?”he asked drowsily.
“Do you know where we are?”She let hope rise as he seemed to rouse, his eyes blinking.
“I…I think we're close to Glenn Ivy Manor.”He pointed off to her left and up what she assumed was the road.“We were nearly home.I'm sorry I failed you, girly.”
“Fail me?You saved me, John.”Charlene tucked an arm over his stomach and hugged him gently.“Now it's my turn to return the favor.Stay here, and keep warm—that’s it, keep the blanket right over you.I'll be back with help soon.”
Charlene rose to where the horses stood stomping their feet.She tethered one animal to the other and headed in the direction he'd pointed, walking until her feet throbbed with a cold, numbing sensation punctuated by sharp spikes of pain.
Surely it couldn’t be much further…
Finally she spotted a tree stump and led the horses over.Without a saddle, she'd had no way to mount the horse.With a sigh of relief, she stood on the stump, throwing a leg over one of the horses’ backs.She could do this.
A short while later, she was trotting up the long, winding drive to the home of her childhood nemesis.She had read the obituary of his father, and her mother had sent the expected flowers and letter of condolence, but Charlene had not seen the boy in years.
Drew.
Andrew Wentworth was now the owner of Glenn Ivy Manor.With any luck, he wouldn't be home.At least, that was what Charlene told herself as she slid from the horse's back and stumbled up to the front door.As she stood there waiting for someone to answer her frantic knocking, her knees shook and pins and needles danced up her legs, causing a fiery pain.
Maybe she should just sit down and wait?Maybe her legs wouldn’t give her a choice, and she would just collapse here…
Chapter Four
Itwasjustpastnightfall, but Drew had a tendency to keep early dining hours when he was at home, especially when he had the whole evening ahead of him to enjoy peace and solitude.Once Polly had delivered his meal, he sent her off to the home she shared with Billy above the stables.It was a space his mother had turned into a home for the two of them as a wedding present.Polly, as usual, hadn't wanted to leave Drew alone this evening, but that was precisely what he had wanted.
No, needed.
Drew sighed happily as he settled in by the fire with a glass of scotch and a new treatise on modern sailing practices.He was always interested in how he might get the best out of his ships and men.New ideas were definitely welcome.He took a sip and set his glass down, his eyes focused on a most fascinating paragraph.
A faint clacking sound carried down the hall and into his study.
Although he stopped and listened, there was nothing.Drew looked back at the page he was reading when he heard it again.Had Polly crept back into the house for something?
Rising, Drew went to investigate, hearing the noise again as he stepped into the hallway and made his way toward the kitchens.It was nearly as faint as it had been when he was in the study, but there was no doubt about it.
Someone was knocking on the front door.
Who in the bloody hell would be out in a snowstorm like this?He peeked out a window next to the door and could see the shapes of two horses standing near the front.
Horses?
Drew quickly opened the door to see what in the world was going on and, as he did, a figure collapsed.Instincts took over: he caught their shoulders before they hit the ground and slipped an arm under them before he scooped up their legs.Her legs.It was a woman.He could see that much from the wet woolen skirts draped over his arm, as well as the gently rounded figure pressed against him.
A woman, here?On his doorstep?
Drew carried her into his study where he had a roaring fire going, and laid her on the small sofa he had there before grabbing a nearby throw blanket and tucking it in around her shoulders.It was only when he reached out to ring the bell that he remembered that no one else was in the house.
