OUT OF THE DARKNESS (THE PRESCOTT SERIES) by B. J. McMinn Read Free Book Online Page A

her head thrashing from side to side. Her small hands gripped the blanket until her knuckles had turned white. He sat by her side, uncurled her fingers, held her hand, and began to talk. The sound of his voice appeared to calm her so he talked about anything and everything. He told her about Sue Ellen and Emma. He poured out the hurt he felt over Emma having to live with Margaret. She couldn’t hear him, but it felt good to have someone to tell his troubles to.
     

CHAPTER 4
     
     
    The man’s voice drifted into the black void where nothing hurt, to soothe the ache in her heart like balm on an open wound. His voice, filled with pain and sadness touched her. Jade clawed her way to consciousness to offer comfort from the grief she sensed he suffered, but deep inside she knew she’d be alone.
    Her eyelids flickered opened. In the dim light, she saw a man sitting next to her on the bed. Not alone! Her heart lurched, fear escalated. The fragile hold she had on her sanity unraveled like the threads of a loose knitted scarf. She cringed in fear then relaxed as she shook off the remnants of sleep and became more aware of her surroundings.
    He nestled her hand in his and rubbed the back in a gentle soothing motion, telling her about a child he loved and the wife he missed. He spoke of the ranch that was his dream, of the people who made up his daily life.
    T he voice flowed over her wounded spirit. The fluid motion of his warm hand on hers lulled her back to sleep, to rest quietly in the soft gray of tranquility, not the unrelenting-darkness of despair.
    Noise broke into Jade’s quiet world with a vengeance. This was not the soothing sounds from last night. Pans rattled, children giggled, and the smell of food made her realize how long she’d been without a solid meal. Nuts, berries and the dried buffalo in Three Feather’s pouch had sustained her, but now her stomach was putting up a fuss for the delightful aroma emitting from the other room.
    She lifted a hand to her pounding head, her fingers brushed against her hair. She brought a lock forward and stared at the red tresses, not the dark hue it had been in the village. The Indians forced her to wear animal fat in it to cover the luster of her own natural color. Now, her hair felt silky as she ran her hand through the mass of curls. Lifting a strand to her cheek, she sniffed. It smelled clean. A smile tickled the corners of her lips. No doubt, the voice that said she smelled bad had washed her hair and bathed her.
    She peeked under the blankets. Naked. No buckskins. Just buck-naked. Embarrassed by her state of undress, Jade pulled the covers up and tucked them under her chin. She couldn’t remember a time when she had ever been completely unclothed, except for bathing.
    Her gaze slid around the room seeking some clue as to where she was. Who had found her on the side of the wagon trail that she’d given up hope of finding? Vague images of a family, a husband, a wife, and children filtered across her memory. By the sounds of rustling of pots and pans, the wife must be cooking. The partially closed door helped muffle the shrieks of children’s laughter. Was the husband the soothing voice she heard during the night, or was there another man?
    Little fingers curled around the edge of the door, and a small head peered into the room. The little, dark haired, boy’s eyes grew round as he looked at her. He jumped back, giving the door a resounding slam, hollering loud enough for Jade’s head to start pounding anew.
    “ She’s awake. She’s awake,” he yelled at the top of his voice.
    Jade grimaced as the noise vibrated in her head, reducing coherent thought into tiny scattered images.
    The door opened. A woman stood there wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. The little boy shyly peered around her right leg, and a small girl peeked around the other. Over the woman’s shoulder, about a head taller than she was, stood a man holding another child. The group