Excerpt for UNTIL I FOUND YOU by Wendy Lindstrom   Howling wind and a dark sky overhead warned Gray Sullivan to hurry back to his cabin before the incoming storm buried him in snow, but as he stepped from the cold shadows of the Maine forest, he stopped in stunned surprise. At the edge of the stream, a woman stood hunched and shivering in the frigid wind. Slowly, painfully it seemed, she sank to her knees, revealing her stocking-clad thigh through a long, jagged tear in her skirt. He watched her dip trembling hands in the creek, then bring her cupped palms to her mouth. Her whole body quaked and she emitted a small gasp as she swallowed, her hands immediately clutching her throat as if it hurt. Instinctively, Gray surveyed the long expanse of rock-strewn creek bed above him, then checked downstream where the stream widened and gained momentum, but he saw no one. Methodically, he scanned the timberline and the high cliffs behind the woman, desperately hoping someone would appear and claim her, but the mountain remained eerily silent. She appeared to be alone, and in her exposed condition he knew she would be dead before nightfall. Clenching…