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side her. A few feet beyond was the beginning of the woods, where the spreading branches of dark-barked black oaks were interspersed with tall, lighter ashes and shaggy hickories. The growth Was dense and dismal, though breeze-disturbed leaves shimmered in the sun at the forest's edge. She'd had no time to consider how uninviting the forest appeared when she'd been forced to flee into it, but now . . . |
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Bracing herself for further argument, she stared up at Thorn's rigid back. His buckskin jacket stretched across his broad shoulders. The fringe hanging at the level of his shoulder blades was motionless, as though he had turned into a statue. |
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She thought she heard something then. Was it just the rustle of wind through the trees, or had Thorn muttered? |
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She said, ''I'm sorry. Did you say something?" |
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His head turned, causing the ends of his dark hair to skim the top of his jacket. He glared at her over his shoulder, then said irritably, "Come along." Looking ahead again, he strode into the forest, his rifle, pointed at the ground, clenched in his hand. |
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Chomping down on her bottom lip, Mariah followed. She felt relieved that he had relented, yet apprehensive of what was to come. "I'm Mariah Walker," she called to him. "Thanks for helping me." |
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He didn't stop but shrugged in acknowledgment. "The name's Thorn," he said, loud enough for her to hear. "But you know that." There was a deep, gravelly quality to his voice, and an accent that seemed the cultured British she'd heard affected in some historical films. |
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Was Thorn his first name or last? she found herself wondering, for the script hadn't said, one way or the other. |
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She had to struggle to keep up as he weaved between trees along ground thickly carpeted with fallen twigs and leaves. The crunching of her footsteps was much more frequent than that caused by his longer stride. She was glad she wore boots, for she kept her balance easilyeven though they still squished when she walked from the water she'd gotten into them. Plus, there was no telling what might lurk beneath the underbrush. She'd not have been surprised to see snakes. |
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