Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
T he need for Sage pulsed through Jackson.
He’d been attempting to convince himself that the only reason he needed her was for her assistance in organizing his thoughts and writing down the mental list about the bridge that was running through his head.
Yet the convincing wasn’t working. The need for her went deeper than that—much deeper. No matter how hard he’d tried to forget about her or ignore her, he couldn’t. He was as aware of everything about her just like he always was.
From his position at one of the supporting piers up on the broken part of the bridge, he cast a glance at her sideways. She’d finished examining the rubble down by the river the way he had earlier, and she’d climbed up the switchback with Pastor Abe and was now searching the high mountain road, most likely for another clue from Augusta.
Sage’s process was methodical as she’d scoured both sides of the trail, examining the rocky area that bordered the river valley and then also searching the grassy side that led to the forested hillside.
She was only a few dozen feet away, and yet she felt miles from his reach. She’d felt miles away since the moment he’d left her behind last night.
She hadn’t looked at him for the past hour after she’d ducked out of the tent and joined the reverend at the fire. Jackson was grateful Pastor Abe had taken care of her sustenance, although he wished he’d been the one to offer her the plate of fish and mug of coffee.
He was surprised the reverend hadn’t left with the other travelers earlier. But Jackson hadn’t stopped to question Pastor Abe’s plans and had instead become engrossed in the wreckage. Now that he was finally back at the bridge, his curiosity was overshadowing the shame and guilt from the accident.
Of course, the shame and guilt were still twisting through him, but they weren’t clamoring as loudly anymore. He was growing in the conviction that it was past time to stop letting what had happened debilitate him. In fact, it was past time to institute a plan to rebuild—a plan that included a thorough study of the remaining pieces.
He paused at the rod that had been damaged, one that the ice had weakened. The expansion of the freezing moisture was the culprit in weakening the bridge. Was it possible he needed a different material for the rod? A larger diameter? An outer shell that repelled moisture?
What he really needed was her.
Expelling a long, exasperated sigh, he propped his knee on the nearest stone. He’d made a mess of things last night, which was no surprise. Instead of remaining calm while he was with her, instead of accepting her sweet declaration of love and responding to it with his own affection, he’d ignored her completely.
That’s because he was an imbecile. Even if he wasn’t ready for a relationship with her, he should have handled everything much differently.
“How is your search going?” Pastor Abe called to him as he meandered closer along the road.
Jackson straightened and homed in on Sage, who was poking around a trio of rocks off to the side of the road. She’d taken the time to fix her red-blond hair into a pretty chignon beneath her hat and to make sure she was put together. In a simple but stylish blue dress, she looked especially fresh and bright.
She was a lady every bit as much as Augusta. Maybe even more so. Not that her status mattered to him anymore. Not that it ever should have mattered.
The truth was, she was absolutely perfect for him.
The problem was that he wasn’t right for her. He’d hurt her last night, was hurting her this morning, and would only hurt her again. As much as he wanted her, he had to resist a relationship.
Pastor Abe stopped at the end of the road and didn’t venture out the way Jackson had onto the crumbling part of the bridge that remained suspended above the river.
“Sage said that your sister left two previous clues.” Pastor Abe scanned a nearby beam. “A charm bracelet for the first and a picture of the bridge for the second.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Then we could be looking for just about anything.”
“That is correct as well.”
“So you’ll know it’s a treasure when you find it.”
“Precisely.”
Pastor Abe bent and peered underneath a board. As he straightened, he smiled at Jackson. “Sounds a little bit like what’s happened in your relationship with Sage.”
Jackson’s swirling mind slowed to a crawl as he tried to make sense of Pastor Abe’s line of reasoning.
Pastor Abe perched against a railing that was still intact. “I haven’t been around Sage long, but it’s easy to see you’ve found a treasure in her.”
Sage was kneeling and running her fingers through the long grass. Her expression was filled with determination, her body radiated strength, and her back was stiff with purpose. She’d set out to find Augusta, and he had no doubt she’d do it, because she was an incredible woman. She was a treasure—a very rare and exquisite treasure.
“When God gives you a treasure like that,” Pastor Abe continued, “you need to do everything you can to cherish and keep it.”
Jackson studied the reverend’s face. Had Sage told him they weren’t really married? It sounded that way. He supposed it didn’t really matter if the reverend knew or not. Maybe it was even better if the reverend was privy to the truth.
“Do everything,” the reverend repeated.
“She deserves to be cherished.” He agreed with Pastor Abe wholeheartedly. “But by a better man than me.”
“If God gives the gift, then we can’t give it back. All we can do is prove ourselves worthy of it.”
Jackson’s thoughts slowed once again. “I doubt God gave her to me, not when all I do is make mistakes.”
Pastor Abe released a low chuckle. “Like the bridge?”
He nodded, shadows blowing into his mind. “It was my costliest. But I’ve made plenty of others.”
“But you’re here now trying to fix it?”
“I’d like to try.”
“That’s all we can do. When we fall down, we get back up and try again. Each time we do, we hope we don’t fall as hard and that we get up more quickly the next time.”
Jackson peered down at the cracked rod. He was learning from his mistakes on the bridge. It was taking him time and a great deal of effort—hours and hours of studying and calculating and examining diagrams—to make changes and fix the problems.
If he could put that much work into repairing a bridge, he could certainly do that with a relationship, couldn’t he? After all, Sage was worth more than a hundred bridges. Could he spend his life putting in the effort with her to make up for his shortcomings? And when he fell and made mistakes, could he learn to do better the next time?
Hope surged inside him. He might not be worthy of Sage, but he could work on becoming better and fixing himself so that maybe one day his flaws wouldn’t be so glaring.
The first thing he had to do was figure out a way to apologize for last night.
He shook his head at what a fool he’d been. “Reverend, I must admit?—”
A scream rent the air. Sage’s scream.
With his pulse picking up pace, Jackson’s gaze darted in the direction where he’d last seen her.
The open cliff-side road spread out to the south and north. But she wasn’t in sight.
His body tensed, and he glanced quickly around. Where had she gone? Had the same kidnapper who’d taken Augusta gotten his hands now upon Sage?