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Page 326
a glance toward Mariah that made it clear she was not to hear.
"She needs to know," argued Holly. She sashayed her buxom body toward Thorn and planted herself before him. "Thorn, we were told to deliver a message to you, though I don't"
René cut in. "It is a message you must not heed. But it is from that young man Will, the one you saved from the savages."
"It was a strange message, it was," cut in Holly. "He said he is ready."
Thorn's eyes were directed straight toward Mariah. He had no expression on his face and spoke calmly. "So am I."

A light rain splattered into countless concentric circles on the surface of the swiftly flowing Ohio. Mariah sat on the same crosswise slat of the pirogue that she had used for the last trip upriver, ignoring the beautifully forested hillsides beyond the banks they passed. She recalled how pampered she had felt on the earlier trip, the lady of leisure being rowed up the river.
Now, she felt numb.
Once more she watched Thorn's back as he knelt in the prow, wielding the oars. His strength had to be even greater than she had imagined, for he managed to move the boat swiftly ahead, despite going against the rapid current fed by the storms of the last few days.
If only he were weaker. Though she couldn't yet see it, she knew they were not far from Pittsburgh. Water dripped from the wide brim of Thorn's hat and onto the leather coat he wore against the weather. Mariah had finally resorted to wearing a cap, but it offered little protection from the drizzle. She pushed it back from her forehead, exposing some of her damp waves, and looked up into the sullen gray sky. No break in the clouds at all. The sky was doing its best to reflect her dismal mood.
She straightened the damp skirt of her pink dress. She'd worn it to try to cheer her, but it wasn't succeeding. Not at all.

 
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