Brush and saplings broke her fall, but she still hit the ground with a jarring thud. All the breath left her lungs.
She rolled, leaves and twigs catching in her hair, snagging her skirts. Down and down, until she fetched up against the base of a tree, her back pressed against the bark.
For a moment, she could only lie there, stunned and gasping. Pain throbbed through her, radiating from her side, her hip, her head.
But worse than that was the sharp stab low in her belly, like a knife twisting.
No. Oh God, no!
Panic clawed up her throat. She curled inward, hands clutching her stomach. “Please.” Her jaw trembled as she whispered the words. “Please be all right.”
Dimly, she heard Enoch shouting her name, the crashing of footsteps down the hill.
He dropped to his knees beside her, fear etched all over his face. “Mandie! Are you hurt?” His hands hovered over her, as if afraid to touch.
She tried to speak, but a whimper escaped instead. Tears blurred her vision. “The baby.”
Enoch paled.
Carefully, so carefully, he gathered her into his arms. “I’ve got you.” His voice rasped thick with emotion. “Just hold on.”
He carried her up the embankment, cradling her against his chest. Each step sent a fresh wave of pain through her, but she clung to him, her face pressed into the solid column of his neck.
Tears stung, but she blinked them back. She had to be strong now. For the baby. For Enoch.
At the top, he lowered her onto the wagon bench. “James,” he barked. “Secure the load. We need to get her home. Now.”
James replied to him, but he spoke quietly, and the chaos inside her drowned out his words. She focused on breathing, slow and steady. The pain in her belly had subsided, and she strained for any sensation that might be the baby moving around. It had only happened a few times since that first day when she’d realized she carried a child, so not feeling movement now wouldn’t be unusual.
But surely after such a harrowing tumble, her wee one would have a reaction.
Enoch appeared beside her, his face close enough that she could see the murky shadows clouding his eyes. “One of the axles snapped. I’m going to take you on the gelding.”
She pushed up to her elbow so she could better figure out what he was saying.
Before she could respond, he slid his arm beneath her shoulders, the other under her knees, and then he was lifting her, pulling her tight against his chest. She gasped at the movement, her hands clutching at his shirt.
“I can walk.” The protest came out weak, even as she pressed her face into his shoulder.
“I’m not taking any chances.” His low voice vibrated through her.
He carried her to where James stood with his horse. “Can you stand for a minute? Until I’m in the saddle?” His words rumbled near her ear, his breath fanning her nose.
She nodded, and he eased her feet to the ground, keeping a firm arm around her waist as she swayed. Her legs felt like jelly, the ground unsteady beneath her, but his solid presence kept her upright.
James gripped her arm as Enoch pulled away. Being so fully cared for by these men…it eased the knot in her chest at least a little.
A moment later, Enoch had settled into the saddle, and she started to lift her foot to the stirrup. Was she to sit behind him? She didn’t have on her split skirt.
But James lifted her waist, and Enoch reached for her upper arms. “Turn and sit across my lap.”
She tried to obey, though the movement was awkward. She plopped down onto his lap harder than she’d intended, drawing a grunt from him.
Heat flooded up her neck. “Sorry.” She tried to shift her weight to find a more ladylike pose, but pain shot through her hip, and she gasped.
Enoch’s arm tightened around her waist. “Easy.” His other hand cupped the back of her head, guiding it to rest on his shoulder. “Just lean on me. I’ve got you.”
Too weary and sore to argue, she let her body melt into his, her face nestling into the warm crook of his neck, her arms loose around his waist. The steady thrum of his pulse beat against her cheek, and she focused on that, on the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
