Enoch folded the letter and handed it back to his brother. “We need to show this to Robert. He’ll know what legal weight it carries.”
But the words felt distant. Rose mattered more than anything right now.
He had to find her.
He pulled free of Enoch’s grip and hobbled toward the barn door. “I have to go talk to her.”
“I have to head up to the high pasture. Tell Rose we’ll all talk through this tonight.”
James nodded but didn’t slow or turn.
As he crossed the yard to the house, his walking sticks bit into the packed snow. The cold helped numb the pain in his leg though.
Where would Rose have gone? Her room, most likely. Or maybe the kitchen, where she always seemed to retreat when she needed the comfort of familiar work.
As he worked up the porch steps, Enoch rode out of the yard, his saddle weighed down with an extra saddle bag—the supplies he’d forgotten earlier, no doubt.
James pushed through the front door, his breath coming hard from the exertion and the storm raging in his chest. The great room stretched before him, dim after the bright light outside.
Then he saw her.
Mandie stood—no, not stood. She bent over the back of the couch, her knuckles white where they gripped the wooden frame. Her body curved forward, rigid and unnatural, like every muscle had locked in place.
“Mandie?” Fear twisted in his chest. What was wrong with her?
She didn’t answer. Didn’t even turn her head. Just stayed frozen in that terrible stillness, her breathing shallow and controlled in a way that set off alarm bells in his head.
He moved toward her as fast as the walking sticks would let him. “Mandie, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t—” The word came out strangled, barely audible. “Don’t touch me.”
He stopped an arm’s length away, his pulse hammering. Her face had gone pale as milk, and a sheen of sweat dampened her forehead despite the cool air in the room.
The silence stretched, broken only by her careful breathing. His own mind had clouded over. He tried to think of how to help her, but coherent thoughts wouldn’t form.
Then her shoulders loosened—just a little. The rigid curve of her spine eased, and she released a longer breath.
Whatever had gripped her seemed to be passing. The tension in the room shifted, and James finally found his way through his foggy panic. “Is it the baby?”
She nodded, slowly straightening. Her hand moved to her rounded belly, pressing there as though she could hold the child inside through sheer will. “I think… I think it might be time.”
Time.
The word ricocheted through his thoughts, scattering everything else.
“I’ll get Mrs. Wang.” He should have done that the instant he saw Mandie in pain.
He started to turn, but another thought struck him.
Enoch. Maybe he would still be within calling range.
James spun back toward the door, calling out for Mrs. Wang as he hobbled. When would Mandie’s next pain hit? Would she be all right until he came back inside?
As soon as he stepped onto the porch, he bellowed as loud as he could muster. “Enoch!”
There was no sign of his brother on the trail leading away from the house. But still, he shouted with everything in him. “Enoch!”
Two more calls didn’t bring sight of his brother riding back, so James turned back.
