Angrily, she brushed the tears from her eyes, sniffing but determined to have her say even as she saw the tight set of his lips, the closed expression of his eyes.
“Don’t ask me,” he said, feeling his jaw and muscles tense.
“I must. Can’t you see that? You offer me promises that this will all be over soon. Will the birth of a child bring us a miracle? Will you forget what eats at you? Will you tell me about Sky and why you blame yourself for her death?”
Every word was a knife thrust in Mace. He shook with rage, but gently set her down, rose and then lifted her to her feet.
“Mace?”
“Do you need my help to walk back?”
Erin shivered at his cold tone. She shook her head, realized his back was already toward her and whispered, “No.”
“I’ll see you at supper.”
Chapter Eighteen
When Erin finally returned to the house, Becky waited for her. Setting aside her despair, Erin admired the pretty stones Becky had found in a stream in one of the upper pastures.
“Where’s Jake? I want to show them to him, too. These are better than the ones he found.”
“Becky,” Erin scolded gently, “there’s no need for you to try to outdo your brother at every turn.”
“Yes, there is,” the child stubbornly maintained. “He’s a boy. Papa loves him best.”
“Who dared to tell you such nonsense? Your papa doesn’t love Jake more than you because he’s a boy or for any other reason.” Erin cradled the slender child in her arms.
“Are you gonna love us the same when your baby comes?”
Gently pushing Becky back a little, Erin slid her hands around to cup the girl’s cheeks and raised her face upward.
“I will always love you and Jake as if your were my very own. There’s enough love inside me, Becky, to share with each of you and my baby. Come sit in my room with me and we’ll talk about this.”
Once settled on her bed, Erin drew Becky close. “When I was a little girl, smaller than you, I used to dream all the time about having a family that loved me and one that I could love back. Even when I was all grown-up, Becky, that dream didn’t leave me.”
“But you’ve got us. We’re all your family now. An’ when the baby comes I can help take care of it. You promised. An’ I promise to love it a lot just like you said babies need. I won’t let Jake get his dirty hands on the baby or let Scrap lick its face, either.”
Hugging her close, Erin felt the faith and warmth only love could bring. “Becky, ah, child, you don’t know how you make me feel.”
Wiggling free, Becky looked up at Erin. “Is it a good feeling? You said loving someone always makes them feel real good.”
“And you do.”
“Then why’re ya crying again, Erin?”
“I’m happy. You make me happy. And I don’t ever want you to say that your father loves Jake more than you. He doesn’t. Who did he pick to take care of the two orphaned calves? It wasn’t Jake. It was you. Your papa trusts you and trust is a way of showing love, too.”
“I never figured it that way, but you’re right, Erin. He makes me watch out for Jake. All the time, before you married him, he always said I had to take care of Jake ’cause he was littler than me. And I was the one who helped Ketch with the cooking and washing.”
“And now you’ll be helping to break Tariko’s colt,” Erin added. “You see, don’t you, Becky, how you have special things that only you can do? When Jake gets hurt he doesn’t run to your father. He comes to me or you.” Smoothing the child’s hair, Erin leaned close to whisper,
“Females are best at healing. We’re best at lots of things that men and boys can’t do.”
Eyes twinkling, a grin breaking her lips, Becky whispered back, “Men can’t have babies. They can’t ever be mommies. And they can’t tell stories like you do. They don’t smell half as pretty as you, Erin,” she finished, leaning her head against Erin’s arm.
“See, we females are special. And there’s something else you forgot. Your father doesn’t try to stop you from doing anything that Jake could do. You ride better—”
“That’s ’cause I’m bigger.”
“You’re better at fishing and finding strays, too.”
“Jake just likes climbing rocks and finding caves. Boy has no sense at times,” she added, shaking her head.
“Feel better now?” At Becky’s quick nod, Erin struggled to stand. She braced her back with her hands, rubbing hard, and caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Was it her imagination that the baby seemed to have settled lower? With Becky here, she didn’t want to linger and look, so she headed for the door. “Coming, Becky?”
“Yeah. If I could have some cookies, I think I’ll find Jake and show him my stones. But nicely,” she amended, catching sight of Erin’s look.
“You do that, honey, and make sure you’re back in time for supper.”
Becky returned in late afternoon just as Erin began to fry chicken.
“Erin, I can’t find Jake. I’ve looked and looked all over. I even went up to that cave he found and called him, but he didn’t answer me.”
“Likely he’s with Ketch or your father. Why don’t you wash up and help me set the table?”
Erin wasn’t worried about Jake. She intended to apologize for snapping at him and Scrap and knew he’d come home in time to eat. He’d changed so much in the four months she had been here—from a shy boy to one who was silent only when eating.
Erin still didn’t worry when she saw the men ride in with Ketch and no Jake. He was with his father, then. But when Mace came inside and said he hadn’t seen Jake since she had yelled at him, Erin began to worry. When Becky confided as soon as her father left them to go to his room that Jake wondered if Erin would still love him after she had her baby, Erin grabbed her shawl from the hook and told Becky she was going to look for him.
He wasn’t hiding up in the loft. Erin, after having called him enough times, braved the rickety ladder to climb up and see for herself if he was there. She managed to get high enough to peer over the edge, demanding that Jake come out, but there was only silence.
It seemed forever before she stood on the straw-littered floor again, heading for the tack room. That proved empty. So did the woodshed, the springhouse and the lean-to built to shelter Mace’s precious bull. With hands on hips, Erin glanced toward the bunkhouse. She hated to disturb the men as they washed and donned clean shirts for supper, but there really wasn’t much choice. Jake had to be found.
Mace beat her there. He had just closed the door when Erin came around the corner. “Where is my son?”
“I don’t know. I was going to ask you.”
“He ran off when you yelled at him. Didn’t he come back?”
“If you disciplined him once in a while instead of letting him run wild, I wouldn’t have had to yell at him!”
“Don’t raise our voice, woman. Not to me.”
Erin backed away. “I won’t. I won’t say another word to you. I just can’t believe you’re blaming me for Jake being gone.”
“And who should I blame,” he stated coldly, anger for her stirring up the past churning inside him, “if not you? You’re my wife. You’re—”
“Am I, Mace? Am I really?” Erin didn’t wait for his answer. She retraced her steps, calling Jake’s name and calling for the dog. The corrals showed no sign of the small boy, nor did his favorite tree, and darkness was rapidly falling.
She had reached the edge of the woods, hesitating to enter since the shadows were so deep, when Mace walked up behind her.
“This is foolish, Erin. You’ll get hurt. Come back to the house and let me look for him.”
“No. I caused him to run off and I’ll find him.”
“I didn’t mean that. I—”
“It doesn’t matter. Finding Jake does.”
“Then wait right here for me, Erin. I’ll get a lantern and something warmer for you.”
Erin hadn’t felt th
e chill until he mentioned it. Jake didn’t have his jacket with him. He was likely cold and hungry. That made up her mind. She couldn’t stay and wait for Mace.
But she used caution entering the woods, ever mindful of exposed tree roots that could trip her. Becky claimed that she had searched the cave Jake had found. But Becky didn’t like caves and Erin had the feeling that the child had not gone in beyond the opening. Jake could have hidden far back. Jake could be hurt, too.
Worry intensified. It lent her the strength to make the climb up a short hill, where she stopped to get her bearings. Across the field was another strip of woods and beyond that were the tumbled rocks that led to a path up the mountain.
Erin looked behind her but didn’t see a light to indicate that Mace had followed her. She couldn’t wait. As fast as she could, with an inner sense of need hurrying her now, she made her way across the field. Thankful that the branches were just beginning to leaf she was able to find her way through the woods with little difficulty.
Urged on by the litany that Jake needed her replaying in her mind, Erin began finding her way up through the massive rocks. The path was steep and she strained her arms pulling herself up. The smaller, loose rocks below her feet made every step treacherous, but she wouldn’t stop.
From far below she heard Mace calling her, but she didn’t have breath to answer him. Her hand slipped, the palm scraped raw, just as she lost her footing. Erin managed to get her hand to her hip, coming down hard on it. For a moment she was stunned. Pain, sharp and fast, brought a moan from her as she struggled to push herself upright.
She could barely make out the shapes of boulders that surrounded her. Glancing upward, she thought there was a darker blackness that could be the cave’s opening. Using extreme care, she started her climb again.
Her hip throbbed and her lower back ached as she found small handholds in the face of the rock and pulled herself by inches closer to where the cave should be.
“Jake,” she called, surprised that her voice croaked, pain in her throat forcing her to realize that she had been shouting his name for a long time before. “Answer me, please. Are you up there?”
Erin touched the edge of a narrow ledge. There was no way for her to pull herself up and over to it. Knots of tension churned in her stomach as she rested her forehead against the cool rock.
“Jake? Jake, just answer me. Let me know you’re all right.”
The plea went unheeded. Strength was in short supply, yet Erin demanded all she had from her weary body. By touch alone, she secured a place for her hands, then her feet. At a crawl, she worked her way up a rock until she could brace her arms on the ledge.
Her heart was pounding with exertion, sweat trickled down her back and she was panting. Once again she strained to call the boy, sure she was directly at the cave’s opening.
Erin didn’t dare rest long. The yearning for more than a minute’s stop was a demand she beat back. She had to find Jake and know that he was all right.
Driven now, she prayed no harm would come to her or her child as she wriggled her way onto the ledge. She could hear other voices calling her name, but they were too far away to hear her weak reply.
Blackness loomed in front of her. She inched along on her side, ignoring the rocks that pinched through her clothes. Trembling by the time she stood, Erin stared at the opening. It appeared a large black mouth just waiting to swallow her up. If only the moon would rise, she thought, glancing up at the night sky.
Her hand rested against the stone edge and she stepped forward. Think of Jake inside, think of him alone, maybe hurt, she urged herself, taking another step inside. A few steps more and she couldn’t breathe. It felt as if the mountain was coming down on her shoulders, crushing her, crushing her unborn child.
With her palm protectively held over her belly, the other extended forward, Erin blindly went forward, calling Jake. It took minutes for her to realize she heard the echo of her own voice coming back at her. The cave had to be deep, and it was filled with a darkness unlike anything she had experienced before.
Each time she set her hand down on the rock wall that guided her, Erin hoped that she would reach the end, but the tunnel seemed to go on and on.
Her throat was raw and parched, but she finally noticed that the air was as clean as outside. Somewhere up ahead there might be another opening. She could feel a light whisper of moving air across her face and bravely quickened her pace.
Once more she began calling out to Jake.
This time she was rewarded.
“Erin. I’m here. Down here.”
The echo rebounded from the walls and Erin couldn’t place where he had called from. She had to wait until all sound died away before she spoke.
“Listen to me,” she said softly, keeping the echoed response down. “Am I close?”
“I’m down a hole.”
“Dear Lord! Jake, are you hurt?” She had spoken too loudly, and too fast. Again she waited until the silence returned, afraid now to move for fear of falling to wherever Jake was. She should return to the opening and try to attract Mace or the men’s attention. Erin knew it was the sensible thing to do, but she hesitated and then was glad she did.
“I’m scared.”
“I’m coming.”
Pressing her back against the rough wall, Erin lowered herself to sit. By rocking gently, side to side, she managed to work her way along. Keeping one hand extended on the floor of the cave, she guided herself until the ground gave way to nothing.
“Jake?”
Scrap started barking. The sound filled her ears and she couldn’t hear if the boy answered her. “Hush him!” she yelled.
But long before quiet descended, Erin was trying to figure a way to get Jake out. Without a light, she couldn’t see how far down he was. She didn’t know how wide the hole was. And she became afraid to move farther. She needed something to lower down to him. But, foolishly, she had come with nothing but her shawl.
“Are you hurt?” Let him say no. Lord, let him say no. Please, she prayed, I’ll not ask for another thing.
“My arm’s hurtin’.”
Seconds passed before Erin found enough moisture in her throat to talk. “If I let something down, could you manage to climb?” She was already stripping off her shawl, testing the wool’s strength with feeble pulls. Would it hold his weight? But more, could she pull him up?
Turning to her side, Erin stretched out and let the shawl fall. She wrapped one end around her wrist and held it in a death grip with both her hands. She nearly doubled up when a sharp pain seared her lower back. “Don’t let me choose between them,” she whispered to herself, feeling the pain ease.
“Do you see the shawl, Jake?”
“I can’t see at all.”
“Find it,” she commanded, knowing something was wrong. The ache returned, and she could feel it turn again to pain. It was stronger than before. “Hurry.”
She tried to wave the shawl back and forth, hoping the movement would help Jake. When he tugged the end, she sighed with relief.
“Give me a few minutes, Jake.” Erin forced herself onto her belly to better grip the shawl. She didn’t know if she had the strength to pull him up, but she had to try.
“I can’t leave Scrap,” he pleaded.
“Just for now. Just until your father comes. I can’t come get you. You have to try to climb.” With her arms stretched out, Erin thought the first feel of Jake’s full weight would tear them from her body. She didn’t dare go forward to ease the strain, for she was afraid that Jake could pull her down.
Sweat dampened her palms and she squeezed the wool not to lose her grip. Once again pain built in her back, this time making her cry out. The cloth went slack.
When she could breathe, when she could whisper, she called down to Jake. “Why did you let go?”
“I thought I hurt you.”
“No. No, it’s not you, Jake. But hurry. Just hurry.”
Pull, she ordered herself, bracing again for the p
ain. On and on, until she knew that Jake was nearing the edge by the labored sound of his breathing.
“A little more, Jake,” she encouraged, taking the words into herself. She tasted blood where she had bitten through her lip to stifle the cries that wanted to wrench free. The pain wasn’t receding at all. It built in intensity, lessened, but never left her. She couldn’t abandon Jake. Just a few moments more. A few.
The touch of his hand on hers was the best of feelings. “You’re safe, Jake. A tiny bit more and you’re safe.”
But Erin never had to lift him those last few feet, for other hands took hold of the shawl, strong hands that she relinquished her burden to. Erin crawled backward until she saw the lantern light and knew she was safely out of the way.
The soft glow of the lantern was a warm beacon in the dark cavern and revealed Mace, holding his son tight. She tried to summon a smile, so grateful that Jake was safe, but pain shot through her in agonizing waves. All Erin could do was curl on her side and draw her knees up. She didn’t cry. Something was wrong with her baby; she couldn’t deny it. She couldn’t pray, either, for she had bargained that if Jake was all right, she wouldn’t ask for more.
“Why didn’t you wait for me?” Mace asked, lifting his head from Jake’s shoulder. He found Erin quickly, lying on her side, ghostly pale and panting. She was covered with dirt and one hand was scraped raw. Setting Jake down, all the fear he had for his son turned to Erin.
Softly, he said, “Jake, go call out to Cosi and Ketch. They’re real close. Tell them I need them here quick.”
Kneeling by Erin’s side, he placed his hand on her brow. Her skin was cold and clammy. “Why, Erin? Why did you do it? You put yourself at risk for Jake.”
“Mace, I hurt. Something’s wrong.”
That raw sound of her voice slashed through him. He placed his hand on her distended belly and heard her moan. Her stomach was rock hard and he needed no more to know what was wrong.
“Erin, trust me. I’ll get you home as fast as I can.”
Gifts of Love Page 22
