He smelled of leather and pine and sweat and something uniquely Enoch. Solid. Safe.
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 withunshed 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?
