Leaves crunched as he crept up behind her. “I will let you do this if you want to. But I just did not want you to fall. Anyone could fall.”
Dawn closed her eyes. Why was it so hard to allow Jacob to do this one simple task for her? Was he not correct in that husbands and wives helped one another from time to time? She thought back to her own parents and the love they had shared. Their affection could be seen in the looks that passed between them and the private jokes that only the two of them understood. Even the way they would admonish one another with a smile, as though they did not truly mean it.
But oftentimes, the menial tasks were relegated to the staff. Still, Mother would bring Father his book, or he would bring her a flower. They thought of one another and their needs, their desires. Dawn had always dreamed of such a love growing up. So why did she fight it now when her husband wished to do the same?
She faced Jacob. “Fine. But just this once?” Dawn phrased it as a question so as to root out his true intentions.
Jacob chuckled and shook his head. “Trust me. I am not going to be fighting you over who does the dishes every night.”
Dawn smiled at his honesty and relented. “Thank you, then.”
Jacob dipped his head in a gentlemanly nod before he started down the hill.
Dawn turned back to Mary. Or, at least, where Mary had been.
Mary was not at the base of the large sycamore tree. And a quick glance around did not reveal her whereabouts. “Mary?”
Dawn attempted to keep her panic tamped down as she walked over and glanced behind the tree. But as she turned in a circle, the familiar little blond curls were nowhere to be seen.
“Mary?!” Her voice rose, and she spun in another circle. Dawn’s heart jumped into a speed that rivaled the beating of a hummingbird’s wings. “Mary,” she screamed again.
Metal clattered, but she ignored the sound as she darted about, looking behind trees. In the blink of an eye, Jacob was back at her side, his gaze searching hers. “I cannot find her. I cannot find Mary,” she explained, her voice cracking on the last word.
He gave a nod, his face serious, and then he was gone too. “Mary!” His voice boomed through the forest.
Dawn’s head swam, and she could not seem to focus as she glanced this way and then that.
Samson lifted his head and gave a snort from the top of the ridgeline. Dawn whirled in his direction. Jacob must have heard, too, for he took large, lunging steps up the hillside to the animal. “Dawn.” He called and motioned for her to follow as he took off down the other side.
She took hold of the front of her petticoats and lifted, then ran after him. She topped the ridge and quickly located Jacob’s blue waistcoat in the green woods. Crashing through the dead leaves shrouding the forest floor, she covered the couple yards to his side. That was when her gaze landed upon a scene that would stop any parent’s heart in their chest. Dawn froze.
CHAPTER 9
Let a bear robbed of her whelps meet a man, rather than a fool in his folly.
PROVERBS 17:12
“Do not move or say a word,” Jacob cautioned her in a whisper.
“But…but…she is…” Dawn seemed to struggle with his instruction before quieting. He could not blame her. It went against every instinct in his body to stand in place while the child remained in danger. But the danger was lessened for her as long as the mother black bear did not see them as a threat. He swallowed. How long would that be, though? And how swift would her actions be should she deem that Mary or either of them were indeed a threat?
More importantly, could his flintlock pistol stop the bear should she charge? Jacob doubted one single ball would fell the wild animal. Especially if she was in a rage. During the War of Independence, he had heard fantastical stories about men accomplishing feats that seemed impossible for a human, even when mortally wounded. He could only deduce that a bear would be the same. Or even worse.
Still, Mary was several yards away, and the black bears were drawing closer, especially the three cubs which romped ahead of their mother, tumbling and climbing upon one another.
“Mary,” he called in as quiet as a voice as she might hear. When she did not answer, he added a bit of urgency. “Mary.”
When her little ear turned slightly in his direction, indicating that she had heard, he gave his instruction. “Back slowly toward me.”
The smart child gave a dip of her chin without turning to look his way and edged a foot toward the sound of his voice. Better for her lighter footfalls and shorter stature to do the moving than for him. But he would be there in an instant if needed.
Jacob kept an eye on the mother bear without ever losing track of Mary’s progress, all the while conscious of his own thundering heart and Dawn’s rapid breathing. Just in case, he carefully worked a shot from his shot bag and withdrew his pistol from its holster. He may not have as much experience as the soldiers on the front lines, but he could load the weapon with his eyes closed. He had to be able to. As a messenger, you never knew if the need might arise in the middle of the night or thick of fog.
It may not work, but he had to be ready to get a shot off if things went against his favor. Both then and now.
Somehow, the black bears continued with their march without noticing their movements, likely focused on the water source down the ridge. But that could change at any moment.
Mary kept her steady pace, gradually closing the gap between her and him.
