The Pursuit Of Tamsen Littlejohn - Plot & Excerpts
Little more than a dank recess in the face of a draw, it was still high and wide enough to let the horse within, and drew enough air through fissures in the rock for a small fire.Snow lay twice as deep on the ground as when they’d started out. Having trudged through it half the day in pain barely short of intolerable, Jesse groaned in relief once he lowered himself to the old bearskin Tamsen spread in the scanty space the cave provided.She saw to everything: horse, fire, provisions, though neither had appetite for the latter. Then she knelt beside him, spreading the sopping hem of her skirt and cloak before the fire. “Now you.”He eyed her resolute gaze. “Now me what?”“Your side. I mean to have a look at it.”“There’s no need.” Ignoring him, she tugged at his hunting shirt, trying to raise it. He caught her hand. Her fingers were icy. “Tamsen …”She was having none of his protest. Too tired to resist, he rucked up his shirts, letting her see the bruises darkening his ribs.“Likely just cracked, else I’d never have made it this far.”
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