From The Lady and the Warrior~
May, 1783, the Virginia Frontier, the Allegheny Mountains
A woman? Stopping along the foggy trail, Zane Cameron fingered the long strands of light brown hair fluttering from a patch of briers.
Nearby, he spotted a bit of crimson cloth, likely torn from her cloak. In the sodden earth were indentations left by leather shoes, not moccasins. Small, too, and light. Definitely a woman of slender build. Some greenhorn must have brought her into the frontier.
Idiot. What in blazes was a female doing out here alone?
Not long ago a newcomer had been killed and his bride taken captive by Shawnee. Didn’t these land grabbers realize the war had never ended in the frontier?
This wild country was dangerous enough for a cagey man. Even a toughened Indian woman would be hard-pressed to survive unaided in these mountains. And this was no Indian judging by the color of her hair and clothes, unless she was a half-breed who took after the English side of the family. A sharp pain darted through him at the reminder.
“Reuben!” Again she shouted the man’s name. And again.
Whoever this Reuben was, he’d left her, either intentionally or not. If Zane had a woman, he wouldn’t treat her so carelessly. And he’d better find this one soon. Her cries would attract every predator, animal or human, in these woods.
Abandoning his hunt, Zane headed in her direction—hoping he reached her first.
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