“Borrow a horse from the Parrishes and ride east toward Countisbury,” Mr. Lowden said. “I’ll ride west. Ask anyone you meet if they’ve seen her. Make haste.”
One glance at Hannah’s teary face and the young man turned and sprinted toward the Grange. Mr. Lowden swung himself up onto his horse.
He then looked down at her. “Stay here in case she returns.”
Hannah shook her head. “I can’t stay and do nothing. Mrs. Turrill is here. I’m going to search the wood.”
“Very well. I’ll ride a few miles and if I see no sign of them, I’ll circle back and meet you there.”
She nodded and turned, jogging downhill and into the nearby wood with its carpet of bluebells.Dear God in heaven, please let Danny be all right. Help me find them. Oh, please have mercy. Please.
Hannah opened her mouth to call out, then hesitated. Might the girl bolt at the sound of her name, fearing she was in trouble? Perhaps a silent approach would be better. Continuing on, Hannah stepped on a dry branch and it snapped as loud as a gunshot in the quiet wood. So much for stealth.
She called out, “Becky!”
She hurried on, panic rising. What had the girl gone and done? What hadshedone by allowing Becky to leave the house with her son? If anything happened to him, she would never forgive herself.
In the distance behind her, she heard Mrs. Turrill’s voice call out, “Becky! Becky my girl!”
Hannah squeezed her eyes shut. She had not been found in the house nor at the Parrishes’. Hannah trudged on, stepping over logs and pushing away branches, looking this way and that for any sign someone had passed that way.
“Listen,”a voice in her mind whispered. Then repeated once more,“Listen.”Was it God’s voice, or was she imagining it?
Hannah paused where she was. She closed her eyes and focused all her attention on hearing.
What was that sound? The gentle whirring of a dove? No. Of running water. She followed the sound, not sure why, but having no other idea which way to go.
The Lyn River ran nearby on its way toward Lynmouth and the Bristol Channel. Would Becky be drawn to the water? It was unlikely she could swim. Water and a baby ... the two words struck terror in Hannah’s heart. She blinked awayimages of Danny floating away as Lady Mayfield had. Or simply sinking...
“Becky!” she called all the louder.
Hannah tripped over a bramble and went sprawling. Pain shot through her injured arm. She heard a familiar whimper and looked up from her prone position, belly on the ground. She tried to cry out, but the fall had knocked the air from her lungs and the cry lodged in her throat.
Ahead, Becky stood on the riverbank, Danny in one arm, the other outstretched for balance. She reached her slippered foot toward a rock amid the rapidly flowing river. Hannah sucked in a wheezy breath and called out, “Becky, stop! What are you doing?”
The girl turned. “Taking him somewhere safe.”
Hannah lumbered to her feet and started forward. She would never reach the girl in time....
Suddenly, Mr. Lowden stepped out from behind a tree. Becky shrieked and leapt from the bank onto the rock. Hannah gasped as Danny bobbled in her grasp.
“There you are, Miss Brown. I am glad I found you,” Mr. Lowden said, placating palms outstretched. “I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry I was rude to you before. I hope you will forgive me.”
Becky looked from him to a rock farther out, uncertain.
Mr. Lowden calmly went on, “Master Daniel looks to have enjoyed his walk in the wood. Well done. Let us return him to Lady Mayfield.”
Becky frowned at Mr. Lowden. “Ain’t Lady Mayfield’s child.”
Panic seized Hannah. She called, “Becky, Danny is my son. You know he is! You are only upset.”
Mr. Lowden soothed, “Just look at him. No one could see this handsome lad and not know who his mother is.”
Becky looked down at the baby.
“Let me help you,” Mr. Lowden said, reaching toward her. “That’s it, take my hand.”
With a glance toward Hannah, Becky tentatively placed her hand in Mr. Lowden’s. He held it and steadied her as she leapt back from the rock onto solid ground.
