Free Frontier Gift of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 5) by Dorothy Wiley Page B

time to be here alone. The trees surrounding him grew thick and tall. Their dense canopy of boughs and branches made it darker than the woods closer to his house. He heard sounds and gritted his teeth as he listened. Probably just skittering mice or scampering hares.
    He gripped his rifle a little tighter. His Pa would want him to stay alert.Anything could happen in a forest. At the thought, his stomach prickled and his heart started to beat fast again.
    He should turn back. All the noise he made running through the timber would have scared off any game anyway.
    Then he heard something.
    Men’s voices.
    He whirled around.

Chapter 7
    Between Boonesborough and Cumberland Falls
,
Sunday, 18 December, 1799
    A s the sun rose well up into the sky, Bear and Artis rode side by side on Boone’s Trace, the trail leading due south from Boonesborough. They’d been riding hard since before daylight and would need to stop soon to let the horses have a rest.
    Bear glanced over at Artis. She actually seemed to be enjoying herself. An excellent horsewoman, she loved to ride Glasgow. As he watched her handle the big stallion with ease, his heart swelled with pride. She could probably ride anything with hooves.
    “Let’s stop here so we can water and rest the horses,” he called over to her when they reached a babbling creek rippling past grand sycamores. Shafts of soft light speared down through the tree branches, bathing the water’s surface in glinting sparkles.
    “Aye, they need a rest and this is a beautiful spot.”
    They took brief respite, quenching their thirst and stretching their legs, then soon resumed riding. The trail they followed cut a path through trees so dense at times the massive hardwoods blocked out the sky over the road. All afternoon, a series of switchbacks kept them meandering up, down, and around rolling hills.
    After several winter freezes, the normally blue-green grass that grew in the meadows between the rises now appeared as colorless as straw. Although not as nourishing for animals, the dried grass still filled their empty bellies.
    Occasionally, a few startled deer would lope across one of the meadows or elk would raise their heads, languidly lifting their wide antlers while grazing, unafraid of the intruders.
    They passed areas where the last snow must have fallen heavily while in other areas hardly any snow at all covered the ground. At the top of one hill in the distance, tall pines lined up on the ridge one behind the other, and stood like a proud army of nature awaiting their arrival.
    Bear and Artis rode through only two small settlements—Hazel Patch and Crab Orchard. Although they greeted and waved to the few people there, they didn’t stop. Bear didn’t want to get caught in a long conversation. He had no time to chat. Not today.
    His brother might need him.
    Fortunately, there were no major rivers to cross on the way to Sam’s place. The beautiful Kentucky River ran just north of Boonesborough and the majestic Cumberland marked the far southern edge of Sam and Catherine’s property. Occasionally they would hear a waterway colliding with rocks and limestone boulders and then, as they smelled the fresh clean scent of the water, the stream or a creek would come into view. The ones they needed to cross were only deep enough to reach the bottom of his stirrups, which allowed them to stay dry. In the winter, that could be extremely fortunate. Cold wet feet were something he did not tolerate well.
    Before the sky fully darkened, they slowed their horses as a lively creek crossed their path once again. Artis followed Bear as he maneuvered Camel away from the road and up the bank line to a lovely secluded spot. A surprised fox trotted out and ran off as they neared a place that suited Bear.
    He dismounted and unsaddled Camel while Artis did the same for Glasgow. As they led the horses to the creek to water, he was struck byhow soothing the spot was. Perhaps it would calm his jittery nerves. Ever