Chapter 14
Mandie lay in the stillness of her room, the weight of her exhaustion pressing her into the mattress like a stone. Outside her window, the late-morning sun shone bright over the pines lining the yard, but the beauty seemed distant, unreachable.
She should be up and preparing food for the others to eat when they came in at midday.
But she couldn’t seem to make herself rise.
What was this heaviness in her spirit? She no longer felt sick.
Not after she came in and ate biscuits and sliced meat.
She’d cleaned up the soot caked on her hands and dress, then sank into this bed.
She’d probably lain here an hour, and still she couldn’t find the courage—or maybe energy?—to rise.
Footsteps sounded in the main room. The tread was heavy but measured, a stride she’d come to recognize over the past days.
Enoch. Her insides tightened. Was he coming to check on her? Or merely to prepare food for the men’s midday meal? The thought of him entering her room, especially after seeing her make such a spectacle of herself outside…
The creaking of floorboards drew nearer, then paused outside her door. A gentle knock sounded, followed by Enoch’s deep voice. “Mandie? May I open the door?”
She drew in a breath, trying to collect herself before answering. “Yes, come in.” Her voice sounded thin, even to her own ears.
The door opened and Enoch stepped inside, his large frame filling the frame. His face and hands looked free of soot, and his collar and beard were wet. He must have washed up.
Worry still creased his forehead. “How are you feeling?” His gaze searched her face, as if trying to discern the truth for himself.
She managed a wan smile. “Better. Just tired.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but how could she explain the strange melancholy weighing her spirit? The unease she couldn’t quite shake.
He nodded, but the furrow remained between his brows. “You gave us a scare out there. I thought...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
Something in his tone, in the intensity of his gaze, made her heart ache. Enoch Balfour was not a man prone to sentimentality or coddling. Yet here he stood, his concern for her well-being evident in every line of his rugged face.
Maybe he would worry like this about any stranger put in his charge.
She pushed herself to sitting, the quilt pooling around her waist. “I’m sorry for causing concern. I don’t know what came over me out there.”
He took a step closer, then hesitated. “You have nothing to apologize for. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still recovering.” His voice gentled. “I should have insisted you stay inside and rest from the start.”
A wry smile tugged at her lips. “You did. I didn’t listen.”
His mouth quirked up at the corners. “You’re right. I’m learning that Mandie Beaumont is not a woman easily dissuaded from her course.”
Something warm unfurled in her chest at his words, at the hint of admiration in his tone. She met his gaze, her smile growing. “I suppose I can be a bit…stubborn at times.”
“A bit?” He raised his brows.
She let out a soft laugh. “Maybe more than a bit. But I prefer to think of it as determination.”
“Call it what you will, it’s a quality that will serve you well out here.” His expression sobered. “Life on the frontier is not for the faint of heart.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” She’d never seen him so talkative, not without a purpose. Maybe he had something to say, or merely needed to rest and wanted conversation as he did so. She motioned to the chair near her bed. “Come and sit.”
He hesitated, then stepped forward and sank into the seat. His large frame almost dwarfed the piece.
She cleared her throat. “How goes the work on the barn? I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
Enoch blinked, as if shaking himself from a spell. “Fine. We’ve cleared most of the debris. Tomorrow we’ll start on repairs.” He settled more into the chair. “But you needn’t worry about that. Your only job is to rest and regain your strength.”
She nodded, plucking at a loose thread on the quilt. The idea of more idle hours stretched before her, empty and echoing. She needed rest for her body to heal. But the inactivity chafed, leaving her too much time with her muddled thoughts.
And that sense of foreboding that lingered like a shadow at the edge of her mind.
She met Enoch’s gaze, searching for words to voice her unease. “I know I need rest. But I can’t seem to quiet my thoughts. Earlier, when I was ill, I had the strangest feeling. Like a memory trying to surface, but I couldn’t quite grasp it.”
His brow furrowed. “A memory? Of what?”
She shook her head. “Maybe not so much a memory as…a sensation. An impression.” She closed her eyes, trying to recapture the fleeting images. “I remember being in a powder room, maybe at church.”
She opened her eyes, but strained to find the feeling from before. “There was something awful.” She met his gaze. “Something I had to get away from.”
Enoch leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees. “What? Was it a person?”
She frowned. “It’s all so hazy. But the feeling was so strong. Like a warning I couldn’t understand.” She wrapped her arms around herself to fight against the chill inside her.
Enoch’s jaw tightened. “Mandie, if someone hurt you, if that’s why you left your home...” He trailed off, his hands curling into fists.
She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Her voice cracked, and she drew in a shuddering breath.
Was that why she’d come west? Why she’d answered an advertisement for a mail-order bride?
Had she actually intended to marry a man she’d never met in person?
Or had that simply been the easiest way to escape whatever she’d feared in Savannah?
So many questions. They pressed in like a weight on her chest.
She rubbed the spot, and maybe that’s what caused a strange fluttering sensation in her middle, like the brush of moth wings just below her ribs.
She sat up straighter and moved her hand to her belly where the motion had been.
Enoch leaned closer, his eyes sharpening. “What’s wrong? Are you unwell again?”
She shook her head. “Not that. My insides are still unsettled, I suppose. I just felt this…flutter inside me.”
His eyes searched hers, confusion and worry warring in their depths. “A flutter? Like sickness?”
She shook her head harder. “It’s—”
The feeling came again, stronger this time. A definite flutter, like a fish darting just beneath the surface of a pond.
“Mandie. What’s happening? What can I do?” Enoch’s voice held a tinge of frustration. Or maybe desperation.
She forced out a slow breath and summoned a smile to calm him. “All is well. I likely just need rest.”
He sat back in his chair, but his brows still gathered in a knot. “Mary Jenkins used to talk about fluttering in her belly when she was sick during her first months with…”
He trailed off, but of course he meant with child. One didn’t speak of such things among mixed company. Especially not when she was lying in bed with him sitting in her bed chamber. Heat flushed up her neck. She should send him out.
But a new thought slid in to cover that one. Mary Jenkins felt fluttering in her middle when she was with child. Panic surged through her, but she tried not to let it show. Nicholas had been gone three years. There was no way she could be…
Right?
She’d not been with another man. Had she? Of course, she hadn’t.
But this fear. This memory her body held of needing to escape. Had something happened?
A fragment of memory surfaced.
Not a clear picture, but a feeling—phantom hands gripping her arms, the press of a body against hers, the stench of cologne and spirits heavy in the air.
She squeezed her eyes shut as bile rose in her throat. She could barely breathe past the pressure on her chest.
“Mandie? Mandie, what’s wrong?” Enoch’s voice sounded in the distance, panic wrapping his tone.
She couldn’t bear to face him. Not with the possibility…
But she had to.
She drew in a breath, forcing it to stay slow as she opened her eyes.
Enoch’s blue eyes bored into hers, his hands gripping the arms of the chair as if to keep himself from reaching for her. “Tell me what’s happening. Please.”
She swallowed hard. She had to tell him something. That she’d found another memory. But as she opened her mouth to speak, emotion surged through her, choking off her voice. Tears stung her eyes and spilled down her cheeks before she could stop them.
Enoch made a low sound in his throat, almost a growl. He leaned forward, resting his hand on hers. “Mandie, please. Let me help.” His grip wrapped around hers, warm, calloused. So strong.
The touch only unleashed more emotion. She shook her head, a sob catching in her throat. How could she voice the horrible suspicion taking root in her mind?
Dear God, is it possible? Could she be carrying a child conceived in violence? The thought made her stomach heave anew.
Enoch’s grip tightened. “I’m going to send for the doctor. All right? Mandie?” So much worry weighted his voice.
She needed to say something. To calm him. It wasn’t fair to worry him so. This was her weight to carry.
She sniffed and forced her breathing to slow as she met his gaze. “I’m all right. Truly. It might be good to bring a doctor though.”
He held her gaze, and so much emotion swirled in his eyes, she could hardly read it all. Worry, for certain. Other things too, but she didn’t have the energy to unpack everything.
He cleared his throat, and his voice rumbled deep when he spoke. “I’ll send Robert now. Will you be all right until I come back?”
She nodded, the motion making tears drip from her chin to her neck. “I’ll be fine. Truly. I just...I think I’ll try to sleep.” She desperately needed time alone to process all this.
He looked torn, like he wasn’t sure he could believe her.
She couldn’t tell him her suspicion. What would he think?
At last, he gave her hand a small squeeze and pulled back as he stood. “I’ll leave you alone then. Can I get you anything? Tea? Biscuits?” He paused for her answer, his height towering over the bed.
She shook her head. “Nothing, thank you.”
He started toward the door but paused halfway. His gaze held hers for a long moment, his blue eyes filled with an intensity she couldn’t name. “I’ll be close by. If you need anything at all, just call for me.”
She nodded, and he finally turned toward the door and slipped out.
She sank back against her pillow, her energy draining like water through a sieve.
Hot tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, and she finally let them come.