A Bride For The Mountain Man. Tracy Madison

sharing their strength. Keeping her standing. She knocked on the door, but her fist barely made a sound. She tried again and then, knowing she was this close to collapse, turned the doorknob and pushed open the door.

      She called out a feeble “Hello?” but received no response. The room—the blessedly warm room—was empty. The dogs left her side to run in, barked at her to follow and so...well, she did. Unless the owner of this house was heartless, he or she would most certainly understand. And if they didn’t? Well, that was the last worry on Meredith’s mind.

      Closing the door behind her, she tried for another “Hello” before half stumbling her way across the room. A low-burning, welcoming fire glowed brightly from the fireplace, and a long, inviting couch was right there along the wall. She went to the sofa, knowing she should take off her coat and outer layers of clothing, but...she couldn’t.

      As in, she was unable to.

      All she could do was sit down, and then stretch out, on the thick, comfortable cushions and stare at the fire. Oddly, she did not feel awkward at being in a stranger’s home without permission. She wasn’t worried if the owner would understand or be angry when he or she walked in. All she felt, through and through, was a deep, abiding sense of relief.

      Just relief. But it was profound.

      Meredith fought to stay awake so that when the mystery owner appeared, she could try to explain her presence. Probably, she should sit up. Thought again that she should take off her coat, the shirts wrapped around her head, the socks on her hands. But doing so seemed impossible. Doing so would require considerably more energy than she currently had available.

      So she closed her eyes, breathed in the deliciously warm air, and thanked the good Lord for getting her this far. She was alive. Freezing, exhausted, shivering and numb...but alive.

      A miracle had occurred. She was not going to die tonight.

      Vaguely, she felt the pressure of the dogs—her angels—as they jumped onto the sofa and snuggled their bodies around her, again offering what protection, what help they could. And that was enough to put an end to her feeble resistance. She stopped trying to find energy where there was none, stopped thinking altogether and allowed her body to do what it demanded.

      She slept.