Free The Color of Ivy by Peggy Ann Craig

had the time to be stopping and considering me options.”
    He seemed to ignore this.  “I should be able to hunt and find us food.  If you know what you’re doing, the land will provide for you.”
    “And ye know what ye be doing?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “How is that?”
    “I’ve been doing this a long time.”
    “What?  Capturing helpless females and be returning them to what is more than certain their death.”
    He stopped walking so suddenly, she stumbled trying not to collide with him.  Turning, he stared down at her.  His eyes looked more black than hazel in the early morning light.  And though they did not look utterly unkind, they did not necessarily look compassionate either.  She stiffened her spine.
    “I hardly think you’re the helpless female kind.”
    He turned and began walking once again.  She watched his back.  He was tall, a good head taller than herself.  His shoulders were broad beneath the bulky jacket.  If he wasn’t her enemy, she would have found some comfort in his huge frame.  Though she hated to admit it, the surroundings were new to her and Ivy recognized when she was out of her element.
    But Sam Michalski was right on one account.  She was no helpless female.  Just ou t here, in this unending wilderness, she felt suddenly very fragile.
    “Perhaps it best we head back to the train.”
    “What for?”
    “Well, perhaps there be someone who can—“
    ”They’re dead.”
    He said it so matter of fact, she thought she must have heard him wrong.  She blinked.  “All of them?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “God almighty.”  She stopped in her tracks, feeling all of a sudden very ill.  Her arms were yanked out in front of her, as Sam hadn’t noticed her halting.  When he did, he stopped and looked back.
    “What?  Are you trying to convince me you feel empathy?  Sorry, don’t buy it.”  With a jerk of the rope, he pulled her forward.
    His harsh words hadn’t even penetrated Ivy’s brain.  The Radford’s were dead.  A hollow feeling tugged on her chest.  She recognized it immediately.  Loss.  Though she had never been close with the Radford’s, they had treated her well considering.  Not many had.
    Her poor leg suddenly pinched.  Biting down a cry of pain, she however, could not stop herself from stumbling.  With a grunt, she fell to the earth and onto her hands and knees.
    It was only then that she realized how horrible her stomach felt.  The impact of her body pitching forward reverberat ed on her stomach and Ivy couldn’t stop the vomit if she tried.  She despised vomiting.  It made her feel wretched, empty, weak.  All the things she hated, and certainly could not afford at that moment.
    To his credit, Sam Michalski waited patiently above her.  Though noticeably, he didn’t move to help her.  “About done?”
    Using the back of her hand, for she had nothing else, she wiped her mouth and shot him an angry glare, but nodded nevertheless.  It was obvious her captor was a heartless man.
    “Is the limp fake?” he asked unexpectedly.
    She struggled to make the pain in her leg more endurable.  “No.”
    “I didn’t notice one before you supposedly hit it on your chair.”  He pointed out.
    Ivy could care less whether he thought her a liar or not, but found herself saying.  “It acts up when I be putting too much pressure on it.”
    “How?”
    Inhaling deeply from exhaustion, she glared at him.  “How what?”
    “How did you injure your leg?”
    Automatically, she stiffened.  “It’s me ankle.  And it be none of yer business.”
    She frowned.  Correcting him was offering more than she intended.  Angry at herself, she bit the inside of her mouth.  “Besides, why would ye ask?”
    “Forget it, you’re right.  None of my business.”  Then straightening his hat, he produced a chuckle, though it lacked sincerity.  “You certainly are a suspicious female.”
    “And why wouldn’t I be?  It’s not every day a strange man locks