Читать книгу The Bride - Carolyn Davidson, Carolyn Davidson - Страница 14

THE FOOD WAS MORE of the same, less palatable than he would find at his table on the ranch, but the men didn’t seem to find it without value, and Isabella ate what was put before her. A thick piece of bread, a length of sausage—held over the fire until the skin split from the heat—and a chunk of cheese made up her meal and she dutifully chewed and swallowed until it was gone.

Two of the men had worked at setting up a small tent for her use. Hers and Rafael’s it appeared, for his saddlebags were placed inside the flap, and his blanket roll was spread on the ground, taking up over half the space available inside the small structure.

It was fully dark, the moon hung low on the horizon and the sound of night birds in the forest played a mournful melody in her ears as Isabella was led to the tent and instructed to crawl within. She sent Rafael an imploring look that was archly ignored as he held the flap wide enough for her to affect easy passage. She crawled to where his blanket roll lay and took one of his coverings for herself, spreading it beside his and settling herself on it, wishing for another quilt of some sort to keep out the night air.