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Abby thought for a moment. She was no longer dizzy, and her thirst had been temporarily eased. "I think so," she finally said. |
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"Then tell me exactly what happened to you." |
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She could hardly explain to this stranger that she had attempted to invoke magic in order to find water. "I . . . don't know." |
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His brow furrowed; clearly he did not believe her. Still, he seemed more concerned now than angry, and he did nothing to renew her initial impression of danger. "All right, just tell me how you got here." |
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She suddenly felt as though she wanted to pour out all her troubles to this man, for she sensed he would care. But then she shook her head. Where had that thought come from? He had not indicated any affinity toward her beyond basic human kindness. She, on the other hand, had felt an unwarranted attraction to him from the moment she awakened and looked into his changeable gray eyes. Perhaps it was a result of his resemblance to Arlen. |
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She said simply, "Three of us rode our horses through the wash looking for water. We became separated. I suppose the others have returned to the wagon train." |
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"Wagon train?" His obvious incredulity puzzled Abby. And then his handsome features lightened. "Oh, you're with one of those reenactment camping groups. That explains your clothes." He paused, frowning again. "I can't say I'm thrilled to hear of expeditions like that starting up around here; too many people. I don't suppose |
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