Read Love on the Mend Online

Authors: Karen Witemeyer

Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #FIC027050

Love on the Mend (10 page)

He’d search every inch of land between here and the farm until he found her. He’d not allow another loved one to be taken from him without a fight.

Chapter Eleven

“There was no sign of her along the road when I came to town,” Curtis relayed as the two men set off on horseback. “She likes to cut through the countryside when she’s on foot, though, so I thought we could split up and search the wooded area between here and the farm.”

Jacob gazed into the trees. He scanned left, then right, desperate for some indication of where they should start, but the pines gave away no secrets. “Are there certain paths she would follow?”

Curtis shrugged. “Probably. But there aren’t any worn trails, so I can only guess which way she might have gone. If Adam was up and about, he could probably lead us, but he’s not, so . . .” His words died away, but Jacob’s mind filled in what his uncle didn’t say. Their chances of finding Mollie before nightfall were slim.

“Let’s pray she hears us and can call out if we get close.”
And that she’s alive and that we can find her before darkness
sets in.
Darkness wouldn’t stop him from looking, but it would be one more impediment standing between him and Mollie. There were enough of those already.

Curtis circled his mount in front of Jacob’s and pulled his gelding to a halt. Jacob reined Galen in with a frown. He’d just opened his mouth to ask why they were wasting time, when his uncle bowed his head.

“Lord, you know where Mollie is. Lead us to her, and protect her from harm while we search. In Jesus’s name, amen.”

Jacob bent his head. Since walking into the clinic, he’d been so focused on getting to Mollie that he hadn’t taken the time to tune his mind to the Spirit. He’d been determined to find her—vowed never to give up. Yet in the face of his uncle’s prayer it became instantly clear that he’d been relying on his own strength without more than a cursory thought of the one who could see all.

When his uncle met his gaze, Jacob nodded to him. “Thanks for that.”

Curtis nodded back. “You take the northern side. I’ll search to the south. Fire two shots if you find her. If we both make it to the farm without seeing her, we’ll regroup and start again.”

“Right.” Surrendering to both his uncle’s greater knowledge of the land and to the Lord’s greater knowledge of everything, Jacob did as instructed and steered Galen into the trees.

He rode in a slow zigzag pattern, calling Mollie’s name until his voice became a hoarse rasp. He crawled through ravines, scoured the pines for broken branches, and even tore apart a scrawny lean-to some squatter had set up, then abandoned years ago.

Not a sign of her anywhere.

Jacob prayed for a pair of pistol shots to shatter the quiet of the forest and announce that Curtis had found what he had not, but nothing beyond an occasional birdcall met his ears. By the time he made it to the farm, Curtis was already there waiting for him. Without Mollie.

After dismounting, Jacob led Galen to the trough for a much deserved drink, all while doing his best to subdue his rising panic. He couldn’t lose her. Not when he’d just given his heart to her.
Please, God. Don’t take her
from me.
He had to look harder. Longer. She was out there somewhere.

“I spoke to the boy while I was waiting for you to come in,” Curtis said, striding forward to meet him. “I hoped he could help us narrow the search.”

“And?”

“Well . . .” Curtis scratched at his beard. “All he could tell me was that Mollie was planning on making him a treat. Usually that means baking something. The boy has a powerful sweet tooth. But I don’t think that is going to help us. The only kitchens she might use are mine and Mrs. Peabody’s. She’s in neither.”

Jacob paced along the corral fence, staring down at the dirt without really seeing it. “Maybe she needed something special for the treat. Something she had to retrieve before she could make it.” He swiveled to face Curtis. “Could she have gone to the grocers or the restaurant?”

“Possibly, but that would have taken less than an hour.” He glanced up at the sun’s sinking position in the afternoon sky. “I guess it’s been closer to three hours now.”

“Did you check the bed in the spare room, just in case she came back while we were gone and cozied down for that nap?” Jacob knew he was grasping at straws, but he needed so badly for her to be safe.

Curtis held his gaze, understanding and shared concern connecting them in a way Jacob could not dismiss. “I checked. Checked every room in the place. Even the cellar. Mrs. Grady hasn’t seen her. The other kids haven’t seen her. Mollie’s not here.” He pulled off his hat and scrubbed at his short, graying hair. “We could go back to town and ask after her there, but my gut tells me that would be a waste of time.” He plopped his hat back on his head. “Mollie has never broken a promise. If she told Adam she’d bring him a surprise, something would have had to physically hold her back to keep her from following through.”

That was his Mollie. Impetuous. Self-sacrificing. Loyal to the bone. Jacob closed his eyes and saw again how she had dropped through the busted church floor to get to Adam the day he’d met her. No hesitation. No caution. No care to her own well-being.

Ah, Mollie. What scrape have you
gotten yourself into this time?

“So what kind of treat would she make?” Jacob asked his uncle, determined to work the problem instead of getting hung up on worrying over possible outcomes. “Cake? Cookies?”

Curtis looked back toward the house, a thoughtful look on his face. “The boy loves pound cake, but none of those ingredients require any special effort.”

“What about pie? I had a slice of fresh blackberry pie at lunch today. Would Adam—”

“Blackberries! Of course. I should have thought of that hours ago.” Curtis’s face split into a grin as he staggered excitedly over to his horse and started pulling himself into the saddle. “Mollie makes blackberry cobbler every year when the berries ripen.”

Jacob snagged Galen’s reins and mounted in a single motion. “Where are we headed?” Not that it mattered. He was just thankful to have a direction. Any direction.

Curtis jerked his head toward the east. “The creek.”

Something nudged Mollie’s shoulder. With the nudge came a reminder of the pain. She tried to snuggle back down into the darkness that had cushioned her from the agony in her head, but then
someone called her name. Someone she knew.
Jacob.
He sounded far away. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she just slipped back into the warm darkness for a little while.

“Mollie Tate. Don’t you dare leave me.”

Goodness, he sounded demanding. And worried. And perhaps just a tad panicked. Mollie frowned at that. Or she would have if she could’ve remembered how. The darkness made everything fuzzy. But one thing she did remember—Jacob never panicked. She’d never met a man so calm in a crisis. So what had him rattled?

Hands roamed over her arms and legs. They prodded and probed and seemed to jab every sore spot on her body. She wanted to scream at them to stop, but she only managed a pitiful little whining sound that barely even vibrated her throat. The hands must have heard it, though, for they stilled.

“Mollie? Can you hear me?”

Jacob.
Heavens, how she loved that man. She’d gladly be his nurse for the rest of her days just to be close to him.

“Curtis, hand her up to me after I mount.”

Uncle Curtis was here, too? They were working
together
? The thought made her want to smile, but some kind of heavy blanket hung over her, weighing down all her muscles.

“She’s hasn’t broken any bones, just a bunch of small lacerations from the blackberry thorns. It’s the injury to her head that has me concerned. I need to get her back to the house to examine her more carefully.”

Arms slid under her back and beneath her knees. Agony shot through her skull. She fought the pain, needing to remember something. Something important.

The arms lifted her high and jostled her.

Oh, yes! The blackberries.
They had to take the blackberries with them. She couldn’t disappoint Adam.

Just as the thought materialized, a new set of arms claimed her, and the motion of the transfer shook the well-fought-for memory right out of her head. Thinking hurt too much.

“Hang in there, Mollie.” Jacob’s voice rumbled just beneath her ear. She tried to pick out his words as the darkness rose to claim her. “I’ll patch you up, I swear it. Don’t leave me, sweetheart. Please. I love you too much to lose you.”

She reached through the pain to grab on to that last statement, then tucked it against her heart before the darkness could steal it from her. Once she was sure the treasured words were safe, she surrendered to the black oblivion.

The next time awareness stirred, the pain wasn’t quite as piercing. And when she heard Jacob’s voice mumbling something, she strained to push through the fog to listen. Would he tell her he loved her again? Or had she just imagined those words?

“Go get some sleep, Curtis. I’m going to try to get another cup of willow bark tea into her. I can’t risk morphine or laudanum in her condition. I need her to wake up.” His voice cracked as he spoke, and Mollie’s heart thumped.

He needed her.

She had to crawl out of this wretched darkness and get back to Jacob. It would hurt more, but since when had she ever taken the easy road? She had to assure him that she wasn’t going to leave.

“It’s been hours, son.” Footsteps echoed in the room. “Let me sit with her for a few minutes while you go—”

“I’m staying. I have to. I love her, Uncle Curtis.”

There were the words again. Only this time instead sounding like a promise, they sounded like torture.

“I want to have a family. With Mollie.” He paused. “With you, too.”

“Jacob.” It seemed to be all Uncle Curtis could say.

Mollie couldn’t blame him. It was the only word she wanted to say, too. “Jacob.”

He was at her side in a flash, taking her hand in his. “Mollie?”

She focused all her energy on lifting her eyelids. They cracked just a bit, enough to let a sliver of lamplight in. Slowly, her lashes parted and she saw him. Red-rimmed eyes, stubbly jaw, hair a wreck. Her man.

“I won’t leave you.” She gave him her promise before exhaustion once again overtook her and dragged her back into unconsciousness.

Jacob remained by Mollie’s side throughout the night, clinging to her hand as well as to her vow. She wasn’t going to leave him. She’d given her word, and Mollie never broke a promise.

He prayed. He tended the cuts she’d suffered from the blackberry brambles when she’d fallen. The vines had grown entangled within a cedar’s branches, and as best he could tell, she’d climbed the tree in order to reach the ripe berries that other pickers had left behind. Unfortunately, the limb she’d shimmied out on had been weak and had broken beneath her weight.

“You know, this tree climbing and dropping through busted church floors is going to have to stop after we’re married. My heart won’t be able to take the stress.” He smiled and ran the back of his finger down the smooth line of her cheek. “Not that I expect any dictate I give you to have much effect. My only hope is that you’ll grow to care enough about me that you’ll take pity on me and cease taking unnecessary risks with your life.”

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