Dangerous Desires, by Brenda Williamson Chapter Three

Dangerous Desires

(Click the title to go back to Chapter One)

by Brenda Williamson

(A Free Read ~ A Work in Progress)

Copyright 2010

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Chapter Three

Nathan saw the shadow dart out ahead onto the dirt road. He stopped walking his horse and stared at what appeared to be the outline of a woman in the middle of the path. Slender, long hair and obviously startled, she stood still. He blinked several times, unsure if she were real. Night had a way of altering reality, and she was too far ahead, a silhouette against the moonlight to say for certain he hadn’t mistaken a tree for a person.

He thought of the tankard of ale he had drunk at the last tavern on his journey. He massaged his crotch, readjusting the position of his aroused cock. His inebriated mind could be conjuring up a fantasy—a grand illusion of the cruelest kind. It had been two weeks since he had last fucked a woman, and that was a week longer than he’d normally go without.

The vision ahead bolted. As quick as she appeared, she became a flash of movement vanishing into the forest.

His horse, Buttercup snorted and danced a few steps, showing unease. He tugged on the reins to control her.

“Easy, ol’ girl.” He patted the mare’s sleek neck. “She’s no threat to you.”

He waited a moment for the horse to settle down. Her eyesight wasn’t what it used to be when she was a young filly. In those days, nothing spooked her. Now everything gave her pause.

He rubbed his hand over his tired face. Was there a scantily clad woman running wild in those parts of the countryside? The longer he thought about it the more he considered it was possible their minds were playing tricks with their vision.

“What do you think, Buttercup? We’re close to Salem.” He started walking again, leading his horse. “Maybe she’s a witch out hunting up frog’s eyes and spider spit.”

He didn’t discount anything. He had heard many tavern tales over the years. Most were stories about the witch trials two hundred years ago. His great grandmother believed in magic. The things he saw her do left him with an open mind.

Shadows of gnarled limbs moved in the breeze. He shivered, feeling watched. Was the apparition hovering close by, spying on him? Should he call out, invite her to show herself? Maybe she needed help. Had he frightened her?

His horse limped forward and he decided to forge ahead and forget about the mysterious woman. He had Buttercup to take care of. Not more than a mile back, a mishap with a gopher hole gave the animal a swollen tendon. He glanced down at her leg. They’d have to stop soon.

He stared ahead, wary of what else lurked in those woods.

Slowly, the sky brightened to a hazy blue as they came out of the forest. Sunrise. The road led around a hill. At the top sat a huge stone mansion. It was too far from town to be an asylum, and the grounds appeared untended to think the place was occupied. Still, he wondered if the woman he had seen had come from there.

“They have a stable,” he told Buttercup.

He used the possible accommodations for his horse as a reason for hiking up the hill through the tall weeds. However, in the back of his thoughts, he hoped to cure his curiosity about the woman in the forest. Maybe someone in the manor knew her—or the ghost story about her.

..............Read more in Chapter 4 on September 28th.

Brenda

http://www.brendawilliamson.com/