Jacob took her hand and her stump into his hands. “Dawn, I could never…”
“Me need to pee.” Mary’s little voice stopped him in his tracks.
Dawn slipped from his grasp. “Of course, dear. Slide on down here.” Mary slid right into Dawn’s waiting embrace, with no difficulty at all. How could a woman as capable as she ever see herself as a burden? He might never know. And now, he might have lost his chance to find out.
“Oh, look at that,” Dawn exclaimed, gazing heavenward.
Jacob angled his head in the same direction, but all he saw was the green upon green of the canopy of leaves.
“Paw paws.” Dawn pointed to a large green object hanging on the tree. Actually, once he focused, there were dozens of the large, oddly shaped balls.
“What is a paw paw?”
“A fruit.”
Jacob glanced between Dawn and the strange-looking object she claimed was a fruit. It did not appear appetizing in the least. “Do you want one?”
She sighed and looked around. “If there was one hanging low enough.”
Jacob chuckled. Perhaps this was his moment. ’Twas not exactly how he had imagined winning her heart, but he had learned long ago that life with Dawn was always a pleasant surprise. And after their conversation earlier, he had hope that he might already hold her heart, that it was only reassurance that she needed. “Oh, my dear Dawn. I have brothers. You do not believe I know how to climb a tree?”
Her eyes widened. “Climb the tree?”
“Yes. I did so in the war, too, sometimes. Samson knows how to stand ground tied behind a bush while I climb a tree. In case we needed to hide.”
Dawn gave a small giggle.
“Just watch and see.” He winked.
Jacob quickly regretted the decision, for the tree was much harder to climb than he remembered, the rough bark biting into his hands. But if he could impress the woman waiting at the bottom, perhaps it would all be worth it. He finagled his way out onto a branch and shimmied down to where it began to bend under his weight.
“Jacob?”
“Do not worry,” he assured her, though he had no inkling of how he would reach the paw paws that were still down at the ends of the branches. He straddled the limb and looked around to see if there was one on an upper branch he could reach. There. Carefully, he came to a kneeling, perched on the branch. He stretched toward the elusive green fruit, but it was still out of reach. He stretched a little farther. Just a bit more.
The branch beneath him gave as he shifted, dropping lower and throwing off his center of balance. Jacob’s eyes widened a moment before he felt the pull of gravity. He clamored for the branch as he passed but barely managed to scrape it with his fingertips.
All too soon, he landed in a heap on the ground, his left ankle crunching beneath him. “Ahhh,” he hissed.
“Jacob,” Dawn screamed and rushed toward him. She was by his side and examining him before he could even process if his ankle was his only injury. “What hurts?”
“Uh, just my ankle.” No, his hands throbbed as well. And his pride was hurt worst of all.
To Dawn’s panicked assessment, Jacob’s only serious injury appeared to be his ankle, his foot bent at an odd angle beneath his other leg. He rose enough to pull the joint out and stretch the limb straight. He tried to hold in his sound of pain, but she did not miss the sharp intake of breath. This was not good.
Dawn ran her hand down the leather of his boot, then looked to his pained face. “I will need to remove this boot to fully examine it.”
Jacob nodded.
As gingerly as she could, Dawn pulled the boot free. Thankfully, the foot did not flop over once the support of the shoe was removed. The ankle was such a complex joint, though. Could he have a break down inside the joint or the foot? Carefully, she prodded around. She flexed the foot forward and back, ignoring the fact that she had never embraced him in such a way, never felt the strength of his muscles. Jacob remained stoic through it all, making her assessment all the more difficult.
The way his mouth was still pressed in a line showed he was still in pain, but there was question in his eyes. Perhaps he was not too injured, after all. “I cannot feel anything broken,” she said. “What do you think?”
“As bad as it hurts, I believe it is just sprained. You know I do not want to do this to you and Mary, but I believe I will need to ride Samson to continue on.” Despite his obvious injury, he raised his brows, wordlessly asking permission to ride while she walked.
In many ways, Jacob continued to prove he was different from others, that he actually considered her feelings. She wanted to believe it with all her heart—that they could have a future. But the same question lingered in the back of her thoughts. Would he see her as a burden on down the road?
“Jacob, I would not have it any other way. We cannot have you injuring yourself further.”
