Chapter 8
There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High.
Despite Jacob having kept a close eye on the map, the Rockcastle River came up out of nowhere.
The quiet gurgle of its waters could barely be heard over the rustle of leaves and breaking of twigs as they made their way down the hillside, through the thick underbrush.
But in the next second, Jacob’s boot had settled into the sandbar at the river’s edge.
“Whoa,” he called to Samson, halting the horse while he was still on solid ground.
“Mary, my dear, it is time to wake up.” Dawn caressed the child’s pale cheek.
Blue eyes blinked open, then her little hand came up to rub at sleepy eyes.
She sat up taller and looked around, blinking a couple more times as her eyes adjusted to the afternoon light spilling into the opening where the river cut a jagged path through the trees.
“Where are we?”
“Rockcastle River,” Dawn answered. “’Tis time for us to dismount and make the crossing.
” She handed the child down, and Jacob settled her in the clearest spot he could find before turning back to Dawn.
His capable wife was already on the ground and at his side, though. Naturally, his hand went to her elbow.
“I need no assistance.” She reminded him with raised brows. But the corners of her mouth were raised ever so slightly.
“I am well aware.” He gave her his own grin.
Dawn had proven to him years ago that she was capable of most anything she set her mind to.
Jacob lowered his right hand to where her left one was absent and wrapped his fingers around the stub at the end of her arm, his thumb stroking the inside of her wrist.
Dawn’s lips parted in shock, and her sky-blue eyes widened.
Jacob froze. Had he made a mistake in showing that minor act of intimacy when they had agreed to a marriage in name alone?
But Dawn did not pull away. Instead, her gaze searched his face.
Before he could discern her reaction, a rustle to his right drew his attention.
Silent as could be, Mary wandered toward the river’s edge in a spot where the earth simply gave straight away to the moving water in a short drop-off.
Jacob abandoned Samson’s reins, leaving the animal to his training, and rushed to her.
He scooped her up into his arms before she could slip into the murky depths.
“Whoa, there, sweet one. Not without an adult.”
When he returned her to Dawn, she gave Mary one of those gentle glares that his mother had often given him in his youth when he did something he knew better than to have done. “Mary, you know not to venture away, especially near the river. It could sweep you away.”
The little one’s face fell, but she reached for Dawn. “Me sorry.”
Dawn ruffled her soft, white-blond curls as she held her close. Her attention returned to him, though. “How should we cross?”
Jacob moved aside so she could step up beside him even as he took up Samson’s reins.
“There is a low spot there.” He pointed to where the ripples in the water were more pronounced.
“It appears we should be able to walk right across. I would still feel better if I made a pass at it first to see where the deep spots and pitfalls are before leading Samson across. Then I can guide you and Mary.”
Now Dawn’s motherly glare was pointed at him.
“There is no sense in you crossing three times. If you wish to scout it out before taking Samson across, I understand. He is much heavier and could sink into the sand and mud. But Mary and I can follow when you cross back over. It is not as though we are not accustomed to river crossings, and this one appears much easier than some we have already faced.”
Jacob nodded. Her words were not untrue. In their journey westward, they had crossed several rivers, including ones much wider and deeper than this one. “Very well.”
Leaving Samson behind with Dawn and Mary, Jacob trekked out onto the sandbar.
Thankfully, the sandy soil was rock-strewn and better suited to the horse’s weight than what he had anticipated.
Still, he would need to check the animal’s hooves for small pebbles once they were all safely across.
A simple stone could bruise the underside of his hoof.
From there, the crossing was just as Jacob imagined.
The river was so shallow in this spot that one could see the river rocks through the water, which never rose above his knees.
On the other side, he searched for the safest spot to guide Samson and the women up and out, quickly locating the game trail which deer likely used for coming down for a drink of water.
Within minutes, he was back through the cool water and at Dawn’s side. “Ready?”
When she dipped her chin, he took Samson’s reins from her. While he would still feel better if she allowed him to take the horse across and come back for her, if she and Mary were to slip, at least the water was not deep enough or swift enough to pose a serious danger.
As Jacob led Samson across, Dawn followed along behind the animal.
She lowered Mary to the ground and allowed her to walk alongside her but kept a tight grip on her hand.
The water would likely come to the child’s waist, but on such a hot day, it would likely feel refreshing rather than overwhelming.
On the other side, the three of them crowded into the trees, for the earth immediately began to climb toward a ridgeline above them. “We will make camp at the top of the ridge. ’Twill be best if you and Mary can hike it on your own since it is so steep. Samson is sure-footed, but accidents happen.”
Dawn nodded, but her attention was affixed ahead of him as she scanned the hillside for herself.
Jacob proceeded slowly, picking his way up the ridge with his horse and the women following behind.
For once in his life, he was responsible for more lives than his own, and he had to admit, it felt good.
Sure, as a scout, there were lives at stake if he did not deliver messages in time.
Dawn had helped remind him of that. But to be immediately responsible for those in his care, it carried with it a sense of purpose.
And to be the one calling the shots and making the decisions, even if he considered Dawn’s opinion as he did so, it gave a man a sense of pride.
Jacob could not remember the last time he felt as such.
Definitely not since they had begun their journey westward.
It had simply been an endless blur of following someone else’s lead day after day.
But here and now, as they scaled the side of a mountain, he was the one doing the leading.
And at the end of the day, he would have brought his family through a day’s travel all on his own, complete with making the river crossing before nightfall as they had intended.
Of course, there had been no real danger thus far, and the crossing had been a minor one.
Jacob frowned as he positioned his foot upon a rock protruding from the earth and used it as a step. He should not get too far ahead of himself. They were not even a genuine family. Granted, Dawn was his wife, but it had been a marriage of convenience. And Mary was not their daughter.
He could not allow himself to be fooled by the desires of his own heart. He was treading on sinking sand, and it was his own heart at risk of drowning.
* * *
Despite the heat, the warm vegetable stew made with fresh vegetables from the Hazel Patch station master’s garden was a welcome change from their previous meals. The variety of flavors that settled on Dawn’s tongue were wonderful.
“Do either of you want this last bit?” Jacob motioned to the pot hanging over the fire.
Dawn shook her head and looked at Mary, but the child had already found a little green inchworm that held her full focus as it crept over a leaf next to where they had made camp.
Dawn grinned, delighting in the fact that Mary seemed to love nature as much as she.
Though, nature as a whole was quite a new world for the child who had been kept indoors for two years.
Every new species they spied was a fresh experience.
Which made it all the more fun for Dawn as well.
The soft clink of metal against metal drew her attention. Jacob stood, lifting the pot from its hook. In the other hand, he held their dishes.
Dawn’s brows pulled together. “What are you doing?”
He inclined his head down the hill. “I am going to take these down to the river and wash them.”
Dawn shot to her feet, her hand and stump going to her waist. “No, you are not. That is my job.”
“I do not want you to travel down that steep hillside and back. It is dangerous.”
Dawn’s cheeks heated. Only an hour ago, she had told Jacob she was capable and he seemed to remember, seemed to understand. Why would he take this from her, then? “I can handle it. After all, it is my place to wash the dishes. Not yours.”
“Dawn, we are husband and wife. We are partners and helpmates. I know you are capable, but I also wish to protect you. Let me do this for you. Just this once.”
Dawn’s gaze slid down the hillside as her jaw worked. While it would be difficult, she had navigated such terrain before. “I do not need protection,” she reiterated more forcefully, with a slight lift of her chin.
Jacob’s shoulders sagged, and his head tilted to the side.
He watched her for a moment, and as he did so, Dawn’s ire began to slip.
Was it possible he truly wanted to help?
Or had they been married less than twenty-four hours and he was already doubting her abilities?
Was it simply husbandly concern, or would he continue to undermine her at every turn?
“Why will you not let me do this one thing for you?” Jacob spoke softly, tenderly.
The sound reached into a forgotten place in her heart.
One that trusted him inexplicably. But it took her back seven years, to when her life had been turned upside down.
That was not a place she was ready to explore, for it was a place filled with such pain and loss.
In order to fight the tears that pricked at her eyes, Dawn turned and crossed her arms. She shook her head to let Jacob know he had not won the fight.
Leaves crunched as he crept up behind her. “I will let you do this if you want to. But I just did not want you to fall. Anyone could fall.”
Dawn closed her eyes. Why was it so hard to allow Jacob to do this one simple task for her?
Was he not correct in that husbands and wives helped one another from time to time?
She thought back to her own parents and the love they had shared.
Their affection could be seen in the looks that passed between them and the private jokes that only the two of them understood.
Even the way they would admonish one another with a smile, as though they did not truly mean it.
But oftentimes, the menial tasks were relegated to the staff.
Still, Mother would bring Father his book, or he would bring her a flower.
They thought of one another and their needs, their desires.
Dawn had always dreamed of such a love growing up.
So why did she fight it now when her husband wished to do the same?
She faced Jacob. “Fine. But just this once?” Dawn phrased it as a question so as to root out his true intentions.
Jacob chuckled and shook his head. “Trust me. I am not going to be fighting you over who does the dishes every night.”
Dawn smiled at his honesty and relented. “Thank you, then.”
Jacob dipped his head in a gentlemanly nod before he started down the hill.
Dawn turned back to Mary. Or, at least, where Mary had been.
Mary was not at the base of the large sycamore tree. And a quick glance around did not reveal her whereabouts. “Mary?”
Dawn attempted to keep her panic tamped down as she walked over and glanced behind the tree. But as she turned in a circle, the familiar little blond curls were nowhere to be seen.
“Mary?!” Her voice rose, and she spun in another circle. Dawn’s heart jumped into a speed that rivaled the beating of a hummingbird’s wings. “Mary,” she screamed again.
Metal clattered, but she ignored the sound as she darted about, looking behind trees. In the blink of an eye, Jacob was back at her side, his gaze searching hers. “I cannot find her. I cannot find Mary,” she explained, her voice cracking on the last word.
He gave a nod, his face serious, and then he was gone too. “Mary!” His voice boomed through the forest.
Dawn’s head swam, and she could not seem to focus as she glanced this way and then that.
Samson lifted his head and gave a snort from the top of the ridgeline. Dawn whirled in his direction. Jacob must have heard, too, for he took large, lunging steps up the hillside to the animal. “Dawn.” He called and motioned for her to follow as he took off down the other side.
She took hold of the front of her petticoats and lifted, then ran after him.
She topped the ridge and quickly located Jacob’s blue waistcoat in the green woods.
Crashing through the dead leaves shrouding the forest floor, she covered the couple yards to his side.
That was when her gaze landed upon a scene that would stop any parent’s heart in their chest. Dawn froze.