Last Bridge Home Read Online Free

the summer. I spend most of my time outdoors from April until September.” She suddenly grimaced. “I guess you can tell. I’m positively covered with freckles.”
    “Yes, I can tell.” He turned away. “Goodbye, Beth, I’ll see you soon.”
    “Beth?” She raised an eyebrow inquiringly. “My name is Elizabeth. No one calls me Beth.”
    “Not even Mark?”
    “No.”
    There was a flicker of satisfaction on his face. “Goodbye, Beth.”
    Not waiting for a reply, he turned and left the kitchen. A moment later she heard the front door close.
    She stood there for a while, her mind a wild jumble of tattered impressions and half-formed thoughts. Jon Sandell had been there less than an hour, she realized, but he had managed to throw her into a state of completeconfusion. Her heart was pounding, and her skin was tingling as if she’d just been through a Finnish sauna. Fear. Yes, fear and something else which was not so easily defined. Suddenly she was jolted out of her confusion by the most basic action possible: Andrew kicked her with force and precision.
    Her hand went to her abdomen. “All right, I can take a hint. I should think good thoughts and eat dinner. Right, kid?” She turned briskly and walked toward the counter where the Crockpot still bubbled. “Nag, nag, nag.”
    She didn’t have much hope for good thoughts, but she did feel better after she’d had a bowl of stew and another half-cup of coffee. She gazed wistfully out the window as the tap water filled the sink, and she prepared to wash the dishes. It was entirely dark outside, and she could no longer see the narrow ribbon of the stream or the woods that lay beyond the meadow.
    “You’ll have to get a blanket so I can lay him down.”
    She whirled with a startled little cry. Jon Sandell stood in the doorway of the kitchen. In his arms was a mass of lean, tawny fur and … blood.
    “Sam?” She could barely speak. “Oh, no!”
    “He’s not hurt badly. You should take him to the vet tomorrow to have a preventive shot,but after you clean the wound he should be fine. The blanket,” he prompted.
    “What?” she murmured in distraction, her gaze still fixed agonizingly on Sam. “Oh, yes, right away.” She moved at an amazingly fast pace from the room to the bathroom closet and grabbed the first blanket she could find from the shelf. In an instant she was back in the kitchen, doubling the blanket and spreading it on the hearth. “You’re sure he’s not badly hurt?” she asked anxiously. “There’s a vet just—”
    “He’s fine.” Jon knelt and put the dog down carefully on the blanket. His big hands were gentle as he arranged Sam’s legs and settled his weight more evenly. The animal gave a low whimper, and Jon immediately stroked his long sleek nose. “Easy. You’re home now, boy.”
    Elizabeth could feel hot tears stinging her eyes. “What happened to him?”
    Jon pointed to the ugly red gash that ex tended in a straight line from behind Sam’s front paw to the middle of his back. “Bullet. It only grazed him, but he’s not going to feel like chasing rabbits for a while.”
    Elizabeth could feel the blood leave her face. “A hunter?” She moistened her lips with her tongue. “It must have been a hunter who mistook Sam for a deer.”
    “Perhaps.” He gave Sam a final pat and rose to his feet. “Would you like me to stay, or can you manage by yourself?”
    “I can manage. Where did you find him? On the road?”
    “In the woods.”
    She turned in surprise to face him. “What were you doing in the woods?”
    “I was searching for your Heinz 57. I knew as soon as you had time to think about him that you’d be out looking for him yourself. I didn’t want you stumbling around in the dark.” He met her gaze. “Was I wrong?”
    “No,” she whispered. “Thank you, Jon.”
    He smiled with surprising gentleness. “He’s a brave dog. I like your Sam, Beth.” He turned away. “Take good care of him.”
    “I will.”
    The