Finding Gabriel Read Online Free Page A

depths.
    And such a thing was no easy feat. The man was built like a warrior – composed of pure muscle and brawn. A resounding coldness swept through her body as she tossed her ratty shawl aside. Then she stripped away her kid gloves and tucked them within her dress pocket. A sudden breeze whispered through the trees’ branches. Shivering, she massaged her bare arms and urged heat into her bones.
    Ariah removed the soldier’s satchel and slung it across her body. The strap hugged her curves in a lethal grasp and chafed at her neck. Water oozed through her dress in a slow, agonizing burn, causing her insides to grow numb and heavy.
    Turn away now, her mind urged once more.
    Non, her heart insisted with its characteristic stubbornness, fate has already been sealed. For better or for worse, there was no turning back.
    Shoving away her discomfort, she eased her arms beneath the man’s muscled limbs and took hold. Water bit into her flesh like a thousand jagged teeth. It was so cold – so unbearably cold.
    So cold that it burned.
    Cold enough to kill.
    Chastened by that thought, focusing solely on the task at hand, Ariah inhaled a deep breath and summoned her courage.

Chapter Two
    Ariah adjusted her burden with a great grunt of effort. Mon Dieu, but the man was heavier than bricks. Perspiration seeped from her hairline and streamed down her cheeks like tears. Each step burned more than the one before it – and the ground below her feet seemed to be paved with hot coals rather than chilled cobblestones.
    With barely any breath left, she and Miriam abandoned the frigid night air and dragged the man across the threshold. Head lolled forward, he was unconscious and steadily nearing death.
    The sound of groaning wood shook the silence as Ariah nudged the door open with her hip. Knees close to buckling, she and Miriam both swayed on their feet and fought to retain balance. Ariah exhaled a rigid breath and grasped the archway to better support her body. She scrubbed her face with the shawl, dabbing away those stubborn beads of sweat.
    “On my word, he must weigh over ninety h-h-hundred kilograms,” Miriam huffed beneath a strained breath. Her eyes were full of apprehension and unmasked fear as she examined the man’s battered features.
    Mon Dieu.
    “Yes,” Ariah agreed, struggling beneath the soldier’s crushing weight. “He is a rather large man, is he not? But no more speaking. We mustn’t wake Emmaline. I don’t wish to frighten her.”
    And frighten her it would. Ariah had never seen a more terrible or gruesome sight. Blood streamed down the curve of the man’s neck and cascaded from the gun wound. Splashes of red stained the greatcoat’s collar. His left cheek had been torn asunder, exposing raw tissue, tendons, and shattered bone. Between the stormy weather and near-fatal injury, it was a true miracle he still lived. His condition was worsening with each moment. And if they didn’t act diligently, he’d soon be dead.
    “Next to the fire,” Ariah whispered to her sister.
    Miriam nodded. Together, they straggled inside and scaled the barren surroundings. Half-completed paintings were propped against the farthest wall in a single-file line. On the opposite side stood a scarred wooden table and rocking chair. It was stationed in front of the hearth, a crochet pillow resting in its lap. And an easel stood beside it, boasting a blank canvas and what little inspiration Ariah so recently felt.
    The screech of nails on wood rang out as Oliver emerged from the back chambers.
    What if Emmaline awakened?
    With renewed urgency, Ariah angled her face toward the blazing hearth and guided Miriam toward it. The man’s drenched boots scraped against the floorboards and left bruised puddles in their wake. A massive arm wrapped around each of their necks – and the length of his limbs spanned wider than their shoulders.
    Ariah and Miriam knelt, unhooked his arms with a collective groan, and eased the man into a reclined