Free His Defiant Wife, the Adventures of Linnett Wainwright, Book 2 by Vanessa Brooks Page A

sound outside had
stopped. Cautiously, he opened the cabin door and stepped out.
Linnett stood in the doorway and held the lantern high, its
flickering light turning the white snow to yellow. John walked out
a little way from the cabin, stood still and looked both ways along
the side walls. “I can’t see anything out here - but wait a
minute!”
    He bent down on
one knee, studying something in the snow.
    “What have you
found?” called out Linnett anxiously.
    John
straightened up with a look of terror on his face and immediately
started to run towards the cabin. “A bear, Linnett! The
door....shut the door!” he shouted.
    There was a
terrible snarling roar and a huge black bear lunged from around the
corner of the cabin. John was already halfway inside the doorway
when the bear slashed at him, knocking his legs out from under him.
He fell to the floor with a yell. Linnett, dragging at his arm,
tried to pull him into the safety of the cabin. She was sobbing
with fright, and the bear was so near, she could smell its foetid
breath. The creature raised a paw and slashed at John’s leg once
again, and John screamed out in agony.
    Linnett,
galvanised by the terrible sound, rolled and dragged John inside
the cabin; she was fighting the bear for her husband’s life. The
bear lunged forward and Linnett reacted instinctively, punching the
animal hard on the end of the nose, a direct hit above the
creature’s snarling jaw. There was a split second of stunned
surprise on the animal’s face, whereupon Linnett managed to slam
the door shut and throw across the heavy bar.
    For a
terrifying minute or two, the bear battered at the door, raging
with growls and snorts. Finding that this achieved nothing, it
finally seemed to grow bored and gave up, lumbering off into the
darkness. John lay writhing on the floor in agony. His leg was a
bloody mess, his breeches in tatters.
    Linnett,
shaking and sobbing, ripped a blanket off the bed and wrapped it
around him. “Can you move, John?” she asked. John shook his head
slightly, his eyes tight shut and his face white. “Water...” he
whispered. Linnett spun away quickly returning with a ladle of
water which she held to his lips.
    “John, I will
make you as comfortable as I can but then I must tend to your
wounds.” Linnett remembered Nat telling her that bear scratches
were poisonous and the best cure for them was to wash them in
alcohol. Linnett then placed a pillow under John’s head and left
him where he lay.
    She heated some
water, gathered up some clean cloths and picked up the bottle of
whisky that John had brought with him from Mr. Penman’s shop.
Linnett poured an equal measure of whisky to hot water and hoped
that was enough; she had never seen a wound like this before.
Swallowing the bile that rose in her throat, she cut away what was
left of John’s breeches.
    John was
floating in and out of consciousness, his mind a fog of pain.
Linnett tore up a sheet ready to use as bandages, finally she was
ready and began to swab out the dreadful wound. John gave an
agonized yell and thankfully passed out. Linnett worked quickly
before he should regain consciousness; she saw that whole lengths
of flesh were hanging loose from his leg. She cut the smaller
shreds of flesh away while placing the larger pieces back into
place as best she could.
    Finally
satisfied that the wound was clean, she bound his leg up firmly
with the strips of clean sheet. She cleaned the blood from the
floor and from her hands. Stripping off her nightgown, which was
covered in blood, she replaced it with a day dress. She wrapped
John warmly with quilts and stood the pail full of its gory
contents in the corner of the room. She felt sick but she knew she
couldn’t venture outside with a bear in the vicinity and so she
fought the sickness off and lay down on the bed, shivering
violently with shock.
    Only an hour
ago they had lain in this very bed, safe and warm together. If only
John had listened to her and not