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The journey upriver was quite different from the one Mariah had taken to Thorn's inn. |
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First, she wasn't in fear for her life. Far from it. She felt utterly at peace, lulled by the restful sounds of the wind over softly rushing water. She recalled her tension on that first trip, how she had watched for the pier that gave her the courage to leap into the water, believing from the screenplay that help would arrive. |
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And it had, though not exactly as expectedthe real, and not fictional, Thorn. |
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Now, she felt a surprising serenity just being with him on the water. His boat was a hollowed-log canoe that he called a pirogue. He had taught her, before pushing off from the shore near the inn, how to sit on one of the crosswise slats to keep the craft balanced. She felt like a pampered creature instead of an overworked servant as she sat doing nothing while he knelt in the pointed prow, watching ahead of them and rowing. She considered asking him to teach her how to row, too, but for now she just appreciated the restfulnessand the scenery. |
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