Gunwitch Read Online Free Page B

others who might be interested well past the resources available to the Bainbridge family.
    Rosalind braced herself with her hands on the top beam and swung her left leg over and dropped on the far side of the fence. Squire Phillips’ field spread out in front of her, the tall grass bounded on the left by a thicket and copse of trees and far to the right by the holly hedge that separated this field from the next. Squire Phillips was pasturing this field, letting his horses and livestock forage. It was the horses that Rosalind was here to see. No animals were visible, though.
    She adjusted her skirts and gave a low whistle.
    “I told you,” Elizabeth said, her face pressed up against the fence, only her eyes visible between the wooden beams. “They are not here today.”
    Rosalind ignored her little sister and whistled again, louder this time. “It’s me,” she said to the empty field. “Rosalind.”
    The grass bowed and rippled away from her as the slight breeze at her back picked up briefly.
    “I told you–”
    Rosalind waved a hand to silence her sister. A rustling in the thicket twenty yards away became the head of a doe. The doe looked across the vacant pasture, then swung her head to look at Rosalind.
    “It’s a deer–”
    “Shh!” Rosalind held out her hand toward the doe, palm up, fingers together. She kept her voice low and gentle as she said, “Come here, girl. Come here.”
    The doe’s ears perked, and the head swiveled to look downwind again. Rosalind could feel the tension in the animal’s muscles as it prepared to bolt.
    “Come here, girl.” Rosalind took a slow step forward. Animals liked her. They always had. “Everything is alright, girl. It’s me, Rosalind.” That was what she said to the Squire’s horses when they acted skittish. Her words seemed to calm the doe, as well. The deer visibly relaxed and turned to face Rosalind again. Rosalind smiled. “Good girl.” She took another slow step forward. “It’s just me. I won’t hurt you.”
    Following her lead, the doe moved out of the thicket.
    Step by step, Rosalind and the doe came closer, Rosalind with her hand still outstretched. Finally, the doe was in reach of her hand. The doe stretched her neck and sniffed at the proffered hand.
    Rosalind felt the soft warmth of the deer’s breath. “Good girl. There you go.”
    The doe licked her palm.
    “See? I’m not dangerous. I won’t hurt you–”
    Thunder crashed, startling Rosalind. Only a step away, the deer staggered and red blood splashed on Rosalind’s hand and on the front of her dress.
    Behind her, Elizabeth screamed.
    In front of her, the deer turned away and tried to bolt, but its left foreleg buckled and it collapsed to the ground, back legs thrashing.
    “Oh, expertly done!” A young man’s voice came across the pasture, breaking the silence that had fallen after the crash of the shot.
    Rosalind became aware of two shapes that had emerged from the thicket further down the pasture, young men exchanging rifles as they walked, but she could not take her eyes off the deer. The doe had forced itself into a three-legged stand and was limping away, its fear pushing it forward, its injury causing it to stumble with every step. Rosalind could feel the doe’s life pumping from the wound in its left flank.
    Another gunshot crashed across the pasture. The doe reared slightly then plunged forward, front legs sprawling, rear legs twitching.
    The deer tried to stand again, but failed, its limbs grown too awkward and weak. The doe swiveled its head and its eyes met Rosalind’s. Rosalind turned away. She could not face the accusation in the brown eyes. Then the deer lost even the strength to hold its head up. The legs still thrashed and struggled, trampling the grass as the red stain of its blood spread, but the doe could do nothing else.
    “Damn. I missed the heart with that shot.”
    Rosalind looked up and saw William Phillips, the squire’s son, walking with his cousin, Robert