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I'm continuing on where we left off last week. This is from my WIP, Gold Digger, an 1880s California historical. This scene takes place in the Sierra mountains. Winnie is my protagonist who has run away from a marriage of convenience to learn how to dig for gold - a fantasy she'd had since she was a child. She's been in the mountains for almost three months by this point. Tibbs, the other character in the scene, is her uncle. Hope you enjoy!

“Winnie, Winnie, wake up.”
 
The voice came from far away. Her head hurt, an ache that ricocheted around her skull. Her arm throbbed. This must be what it’s like to be hit by a stagecoach.
 
“There ya are. Wake up now.”
 
Winnie worked her eyes open and saw Tibbs bent down over her. Worry was etched deep in his old face. 
 
“What in the hell have you been up to?! I leave you alone for a minute and you done gone shot a bear.”

Welcome back to Snippet Sunday. Thank you so much for stopping by. Please make sure to leave a comment (if you're so moved) and to visit the other awesome authors at the Snippet Sunday Facebook page > I'm taking a break from Out Of Time, my short story. For CampNano, I've been working on Gold Digger, an 1880s California historical which I'd like to share. This scene takes place in the Sierra mountains. Winnie is my protagonist who has run away from a marriage of convenience to learn how to dig for gold - a fantasy she'd has since she was a child. She's been in the mountains for almost three months by this point.  

“Baaaaah,” Becky trotted around from the other side of the cabin. The bear swung its head towards the ruckus, startling the goat who stumbled to an immediate halt. Winnie’s heart lodged in her throat. Quick as lightening, Becky turned and bounded away.
 
Winnie backed up quickly, not wishing to have her back to the bear. And promptly tripped over the stool that held the remnants of her afternoon tea. The tea pot shattered into a thousand pieces, and Winnie’s legs got tangled in the stool’s feet. As she came down hard on her ass, Winnie noticed three things in that split second. Pieces of broken ceramic dug into her and she wished she had on her layers of skirts instead of these thin men’s pants. The shotgun stayed in her hands and miraculously didn’t go off. The bear charged towards her.