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Prologue
Somewhere on Mount Louis, BC, 1889
The bare branches of the dense forest lashed out at the desperate young woman trying to evade their punishing grasp. Their sharp and painful slashes went unnoticed as she fled down the wooded mountain. A cold October wind blew through the night, while above the tree tops a full moon cast its glow on the uneven path ahead. It was dark, but not as black as she would have preferred. Far too soon the sun would rise above the eastern peak and the cloak of the night would vanish.
She fled among towering pines, their peaks soaring high into the moonlit sky and forming a dark shroud over the already eerie mountainside. Far beneath them the woman made her way, running through the thick underbrush, over fallen timber and down an unmarked trail. Her breathing shallow, her eyes wide with fear, she desperately searched the distance but could hardly make out anything discernible in the gloomy darkness.
The cold evening air swept across her exposed skin. Her ragged and muddy appearance left little in the form of attire. She would have shivered from the exposure to the late autumn temperatures, but for the already icy fear coursing through her veins.
A batch of roots protruding from the earth caught her foot unaware. Instinctively she reached out to grasp onto something, but fell hard to the ground scraping the palm of her hands painfully against the jagged earth. She paused only long enough to notice the trace of animal tracks on the ground beneath her. The mountain was popular with grizzly bears and cougars. A new fear tore across her chest as she scanned the darkness.
However, the forest was still. The only movement being the flight of the terrified woman. The only sound, the thundering of her heart. Any appearance of forest creatures were nowhere to be seen. The terror of the mountain was all around.
Without a moment's hesitation she quickly got back on her feet and continued her race against the night. She, herself, not uttering a word or so much as a cry. She would not stop to listen. The importance of silence was a matter of life or death.
At last she heard it. The gurgling of the river broke the still night. She followed the sound until she came to a clearing where she could see the river glistening in the moonlight. Where it bent, became narrow then opened to a large channel, she fled along its banks.
The swift running current mirrored her escape as it raced down the mountain. Its roar becoming louder as she neared the wild rapids where the mountain took a steep decline. The woman looked up and saw the first traces of an orange streak across the eastern sky. She turned and fled along the slope that followed the winding river down the mountain.
Chapter 1
Wade Haddock woke at the crack of dawn and listened for sounds from the silent saloon below. The night before was a contrary sound as it usually was during the evening when patrons packed the Call of the Wild Bar and Inn. The alehouse was popular with the cowboys from the surrounding vicinity and he and his wranglers were no exception.
While either enjoying a game of cards or consuming as much alcohol as humanly possible, the fact there was never a shortage of female attention greatly factored into the saloon’s popularity. The ladies of the saloon made it their business to keep the men of Durand County entertained. And satisfied.
He turned and took note of the curvaceous silhouette slowly taking form beside him as the light from the early morning sun crept into the room. The huge bed was spacious and Wade could have easily fit two more figures identical to the one beside him. It always was Marion, however, that graced him with her presence. Admittedly, he wouldn’t mind changing partners, but the truth was he would rather do without the hassle.
He slipped out of the bed unnoticed and quietly got dressed so not to disturb the sleeping woman, then went over to the window that overlooked the front of the saloon. The street was quiet this early in the morning, however, he could see the livery from his vantage point and noticed movement. It would be his men up and getting ready. Though he enjoyed their stops in town, he loved being out on the trail more. He slid on his boots, slipped on his brown wool coat and turned on his heel to head for the door.
The woman on the bed was awake and sat up, allowing the sheet to drop shamelessly from her naked breast. She smirked at Wade from beneath a heavy coat of day old facial paint.
“Mornin’ lover. Leavin’ without a good-bye?”
“Mornin’,” Wade said, picking up his felt hat from the dresser.
“That’s it? No lovey-dovey words?”
“Thanks.”
“Good Lord, Wade. You really know how to sweep a woman off her feet.”
“I don’t think you’re the type of woman who needs any sweeping, Marion.”
“Not even a good-bye kiss?”
“I think you’ll manage just fine.”
“When are you ever going to get over that phobia?”
