Chapter 23
Enoch’s knuckles whitened on the reins as the ranch house came into view, his heart pounding a desperate rhythm against his ribs. He drew the gelding to a stop and slid to the ground, keeping Mandie in his arms.
She clung to him, her face pale and pinched, and the sight sliced through him like a blade.
“I’ve got you.” He cradled her close as he strode toward the house. “You’re going to be fine. Both of you.”
But even as the words left his lips, a sickening sense of familiarity swept over him. A wagon accident. It was Charlotte all over again.
No. He wouldn’t let that happen again. Couldn’t bear it.
He shouldered open the door and carried Mandie straight to her room, easing her onto her quilt.
She whimpered as he pulled his arms from beneath her, and the sound cleaved his heart in two.
“I’ll send Robert for the doctor.” He smoothed a hand over her hair, his touch lingering a moment longer than necessary. “Thomas can help James with the wagon. You just rest now.”
Her fingers caught his sleeve as he started to pull away. “Enoch, I...” She swallowed hard, her eyes luminous with unshed tears. “Thank you. For saving me and getting me home safe.”
Something in his chest constricted, and a fist of emotion lodged behind his breastbone. He wanted to gather her close, to hold her until the fear and pain drained away. But he couldn’t afford to let himself feel that deeply. Not again.
He should have found a safer place for her, but he hadn’t been able to follow through with the idea. Had selfishly kept her for himself. He was a cad.
Carefully, he untangled her fingers from his sleeve. “Rest now. I’ll be back to check on you soon.” His voice emerged rougher than he intended, scraped raw by the terror still clawing at his insides.
He slipped out of the room before she could reply, closing the door with a soft click. For a long moment, he simply leaned against the solid wood, his eyes squeezing shut as he drew a shuddering breath.
Dear God, please let them be all right. He couldn’t lose Mandie and the baby. Not like he’d lost Charlotte. Her family. Will. So many people.
The old grief, never far from the surface, surged up his throat, hot and bitter. He shoved it down with force of will.
He couldn’t afford to wallow in the past. Mandie needed him here, now, in the present. Later he’d figure out what to do with their future.
Straightening, he strode out to the porch where Robert and Thomas were carrying saddles from the pasture. “Robert, ride for the doctor.” Enoch’s voice came out harsher than he intended. “There was a wagon accident, and Mandie took a bad fall. I brought her back to the house and she’s resting now.”
His middle brother’s eyes widened, but he nodded and spun to saddle a horse.
Enoch turned to Thomas. “Go help James fix the axle. It snapped in that narrow stretch on Turner’s slope. I’ll be inside with Mandie if you need anything.”
Thomas tipped his hat. “We’ll handle things. You just take care of her.”
Enoch’s throat tightened. He managed a curt nod before striding back to the house.
Inside, he tiptoed to Mandie’s door and listened, just to see if it sounded like she needed anything. No noises drifted from inside, so he turned the knob and cracked it open. He shouldn’t ignore her privacy like this, but he had to know she wasn’t writhing in pain.
She lay where he’d left her, curled on her side atop the quilt. Her eyes were closed, the rise and fall of her shoulder slow and even. But was that a furrow between her brows? If so, from pain or worry?
He eased the door shut and retreated to the main room. He should try to work. Or maybe prepare food for when Mandie awoke.
But he could only sink into a chair by the cold fireplace. He let his head fall into his hands, the scars pulling on his skin, his heart.
The sickening lurch of fear rushed in, giving rise to overwhelming helplessness. Could he survive the agonizing wait to know if his world had shattered once more?
Why had he let Mandie ride in the wagon with a load that heavy? He should have insisted she stay safely at home, or at the very least, ride her own horse. With the risks of that heavy lumber, he never should have allowed her to be in harm’s way.
He had failed both the women in his care. Failed to keep them safe. What kind of man was he, that he couldn’t protect the ones he loved?
He sat there until he couldn’t bear the oppressive weight of silence any longer. He needed fresh air, maybe an ax and logs to chop. Something to work out this turmoil inside him.
But he didn’t dare leave Mandie. She could call for him at any moment. And he wouldn’t desert her when she needed him.
Not enough time had passed when he heard the click of her bed chamber door open. His scrambled mind strained to make sense of why she would be up.
The soft padding of her slippers finally pulled him to his senses, and he spun, striding to meet her.
She stood at the end of the hallway, one hand braced against the wall, the other pressed to her belly. She’d refastened her hair, but her face was still pale. “I thought I would start food for the evening meal.”
He reached her in two more strides and stopped where he could block her path to the kitchen. “Absolutely not. You need to be resting.”
She raised a brow at him. “I feel much better. And you’ve been so busy worrying over me, I’m sure you haven’t eaten.”
His jaw clenched. “I’m fine. It’s you I’m concerned about. I’ll make food for you.” He searched her face for any sign of lingering pain or distress. “Please, Mandie. Go back to bed. For my peace of mind, if nothing else.”
Her expression softened. “I’m all right, Enoch. Truly. I just… I couldn’t lie there any longer.” She took a step to go around him.
He shifted to block her again, frustration welling in his throat. “Please, Mandie. I can’t have you up doing more damage. What if…?” He couldn’t bring himself to speak the thought aloud.
She reached out and touched his arm, and the contact made him pause. He forced in a breath. Willed his insides to settle enough to meet her gaze.
Those dark eyes were gentle as they searched his face. “How about if I rest on the sofa out here? That way I won’t be locked away in the bed chamber.”
He might have to live with that compromise. With a sigh, he nodded.
She smiled at him, a tired but genuine softening of her eyes. “Thank you.”
He took her elbow and guided her to the sofa. She sank onto the cushions, arranging her skirts around her.
He stood awkwardly for a moment, like an empty-headed ox. “I’ll get you a blanket.” He needed something to occupy his hands, his mind. He strode to the chest by the fireplace and pulled out a soft woolen throw, carrying it back to tuck around her legs.
As he leaned over her, she caught his hand. “Enoch. I’m fine, truly. You don’t need to fuss.”
The warmth of her fingers seeped into his skin, and he had to resist the urge to turn his palm, to lace their fingers together.
He pulled away and straightened. “I’ll make tea. And buttered cornbread, if you think you could eat.”
She nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
He escaped to the kitchen. At least he could do something. The familiar motions of filling the kettle, slicing cornbread, gave him something to focus on besides the fear still churning in his gut.
By the time the tea had steeped and the bread was buttered, he’d managed to compose himself. He carried the tray out to her, setting it on the low table by the sofa.
She smiled up at him as she reached for the mug, her fingers brushing his. “Thank you, Enoch. This is perfect.”
He nodded, unable to form words past the constriction in his throat. He sank into the armchair across from her, watching as she sipped the tea and nibbled at the cornbread.
The silence stretched between them, too thick.
Finally, Mandie set down her cup and met his gaze. “I felt the baby move. While I was resting.”
His heart stuttered. “You did?”
She nodded, her hand drifting to her middle. “Just a flutter, but it was there. I think...I think everything is all right.”
Relief crashed over him like a wave, so strong it left him lightheaded. He closed his eyes for a moment. Thank You, God.
When he opened them again, Mandie was watching him, her expression gentle.
He swallowed hard. “That’s...good. I’m glad.”
Her smile widened a fraction. “I thought maybe, while we wait for the doctor...you could teach me to play chess? I’ve always wanted to learn.”
He stared at her, uncomprehending. How could she think of games at a time like this? When she’d nearly...when they’d almost...
But her eyes were earnest, hopeful. Clinging to normalcy in the midst of upheaval. He couldn’t deny her. “I’ll get the board.”
He fetched the chessboard from its shelf and arranged the pieces, his hands needing the simple task to keep from shaking. As he explained the basic rules and moved the pieces to demonstrate, Mandie leaned forward, her brow furrowed in concentration.
The intellectual challenge seemed to bring color back to her cheeks, and the distraction helped him too, though part of him remained coiled tight with worry.
They played in near silence, the clack of pieces against the board the only sound besides the ticking of the mantel clock. She picked up the strategy quickly, her moves growing bolder and more calculated with each turn. Enoch had to focus to stay a step ahead of her.
Darkness had nearly settled by the time hoofbeats sounded outside.
He leapt to his feet, his heart pounding as he strode to the entryway and pulled open the door.
Robert swung down from his saddle, the doctor right behind him.
Enoch stepped aside to let them in, his pulse thundering in his ears. “She’s resting on the sofa.”
The doctor nodded, moving past him into the house with brisk efficiency. “I’ll need to examine her privately.”
Inside, Mandie had already stood. “Doctor Hansen. Thank you for coming.”
The older man smiled. “Of course, my dear. Now, let’s have a look at you, shall we?”