Web Blog of Connie Vines, author or multi-genre fiction. Awards: H.O.L.T. Medallion (Honoring Outstanding Literary Talent), Orange Rose, Award of Excellence--Contemporary Romance; Independent eBook Award, Dream Realm Award. National Book Award and Frankfurt Book Award, nominee--YA Historical Fiction. Blog includes guest bloggers and snippets of WIP.
After last week's guest post, I'm picking up where I left off with The Well, my latest release.
Harlee has just been rescued from the old well and was explaining her name to Logan...
This weeks Freebits:
She glanced around the property and gasped. The house’s windows were shuttered, and the ground between the house and barn, once worn smooth by wagon wheels and walking back and forth to gather eggs and feed the stock now showed overgrowth. The corral was empty, and wheel marks still etched the dusty ground beyond the yard and disappeared into an endless prairie. The barn doors squealed in protest against the wind and created an eerie, lonely sound.
She turned wide eyes on the stranger then lowered her chin to her chest and slowly shook her head. “My family is supposed to be here. I wondered why they never answered my cries for help.”
“How on earth did you end up in the well?”
His apparent lack of concern for her missing family frustrated her. How could he more more concerned about how an accident happened over an entire family gone? She restrained screaming at him.
His gaze drifted beyond her wet cloaking dress to her worn boots dangling past his arm. “We’ll need to find you a change of clothes before you catch the ague.”
“Never mind my attire,” she spat. “Put me down and I’ll prove this is my home.”
“First, answer my question.” He held her firmly.
She leaned her head back and locked gazes with him. “All right. I fell. Pa told me I needed to stretch out the amount of water left because of the long dry spell, so I leaned over to see how much remained in the well, and the old stone collapsed beneath me. I yelled for help, but no one came, and eventually someone covered the opening. I can’t imagine why Ma, Pa or Hannah never checked on me. I guess they figured I was dead and the well was my grave. I was certain I was going to die until you came along.”
Her gaze drifted to a wet outline on his shoulder, where her head had rested. “Oh Lord, I’m ruining your shirt. You’d best put me down.”