“Are you injured?”
She stared up at him without saying a thing, so he sat down on the soft, green grass near her head and lifted it into his lap. The fall had knocked her bonnet off her head, but its ties held it against her back. All of the pins that usually held Constance’s hair had scattered, so her curls spilled around her, setting off her lovely face.
His desire to run his fingers though the glistening softness made his hand tingle. Hans looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. He needed to concentrate on making sure Constance was all right. He would have to deal with his runaway emotions later.
“I don’t think so.” The whisper was almost softer than the breeze that cooled them.
Hans stared into her eyes, which had darkened to almost chocolate brown. He loved the myriad of colors that they exhibited. Hazel. He’d heard someone call that color of eyes hazel. Whatever shade they were, he could almost drown in them.
“I’m going to lay you back down. I want to check on your horse. Then we’ll go back to town.”
Constance felt bereft when he left her. Carefully, she eased into a sitting position. Her hair tumbled down to her waist, and finally, she could breathe easier. While being totally aware of Hans’s every move, she glanced around, trying to find some of her hairpins. Mother had always told her that a lady wore her hair up instead of letting her curls riot down her back. She picked up all she could reach without moving too much. While she gathered her hair into some semblance of a bun, Constance watched Hans.
He approached Blaze, talking in a soothing tone. The horse shuffled over, favoring one front leg. Probably that was the reason they went down. She hoped he wasn’t hurt too bad.
She glanced back and noticed a particularly deep rut cut crossways in the road. She should have watched where they were going instead of urging the horse to go faster. They could have avoided the hole. Why hadn’t she paid more attention to what she was doing?
Hans had gotten his hand on the bridle. He reached into one pocket, pulled out something, and held it under the horse’s mouth. Blaze nipped the item and chewed contentedly, allowing Hans to check out his front leg.
“Is he going to be all right?” Constance pulled her bonnet back onto her head, hoping it would hold the hair in place long enough to get back home.
Home. The boardinghouse…and Browning City was beginning to feel like home to her. She was glad she had written to Bertram and Molly, telling them she would sell them the farm and having them send her all the personal items still left in the cabin. She didn’t know if she would stay in Iowa, but she wanted the comfort of having a place where she felt safe and accepted, maybe even loved, by wonderful people.
Hans led Blaze over to the large black stallion he had been riding. He attached the reins to the back of his saddle and gave both horses a few loving pats before he turned back toward her. Anticipation poured through her as his long stride brought him closer.
Hans strode over to where Constance sat on the ground. She hadn’t stood up, but she had tamed her hair. Too bad. He liked to see it tumble over her shoulders. The Bible was right when it called a woman’s hair her glory, and Constance’s had looked glorious spread across his lap awhile ago. He took his thoughts captive by the time he reached her.
“Let me help you up.”
When he reached down, he placed his hands on either side of her waist and lifted her into a standing position. She trembled, and he pulled her into his arms…just to support her while she got her bearings, right?
“Do you hurt anywhere?”
“All over, I think.” Her words spoken against his shirt brought warmth to his chest, inside and out.
He swept her up into his arms and walked toward Blackie, thankful that the horse was so powerful. Carrying two people shouldn’t tax him too much.
“We’ll have to ride together. I don’t want to injure Blaze’s leg any more than it already is.”
Constance clung to his neck with both arms. “Will he be all right?”
“Yes.” He stared straight ahead, not wanting to look down into her eyes, which were too close for comfort. “He just doesn’t need to carry any extra weight back to town.”
Hans swung Constance up onto Blackie’s back, then mounted behind her. The ride to town would be exquisite torture, but he didn’t mind. They would have to go slow because of Blaze’s injury. Hans wanted to savor the feel of Constance in his arms for as long as it lasted. It might be the last time they would be that close.
Finding it hard to control his emotions, Hans studied the landscape around them. He should have gone riding sooner. Spring was his favorite time of year. Everything looked bright and fresh. It reminded him of the hope of renewal that the Lord gave every day. A profusion of colors spread around them, but he couldn’t concentrate on any of them.
When he was near Constance, the fragrance of some flower floated around her. This close, it filled his senses. He had to get his mind onto something else.
“What in the world were you thinking, coming out here alone?” He knew he sounded harsh, but she needed to understand the risk she took.
She stiffened in his arms.
Why did men always think they were right? Constance gritted her teeth before she lashed out at him. After all, he had rescued her…again.
“I didn’t think about it being dangerous.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.” The steel in his tone cut like a knife. “Were you headed toward the Mitchell place?”
How did he know that? Could he read her mind? “Yes. I wanted to see if anyone had come home.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes before he said anything else. She could feel the tension coiled like a tightly wound clock in the man behind her.
When he finally spoke, his tone wasn’t as strident. “I would have come with you to keep you safe.”
Of course, he would have. If he had come, she would have had to tell him more of her reasons for searching the house, and she didn’t want to do that. At least not yet.
More of the muscles in her body began to announce their presence, aching and sore. Maybe she was hurt more than she thought. Riding on a horse for a long time didn’t help.
“What is so important that you felt you had to go out there alone?”
The question hung unanswered between them. She wasn’t going to tell him another thing.
As they continued to amble along, the rhythm of the ride lulled her, and soon she slumped against him. Even though his muscles were taut, they gave a welcome warmth and cushioned her exhaustion.
Hans knew the moment Constance fell asleep. He hoped she hadn’t hit her head too hard. He knew that it wasn’t good for a person to go to sleep so soon after a head injury. Hopefully, she was just tired.
He held the reins with one hand and pulled her closer with the other arm. Holding her cradled in his embrace felt somehow right. When he got home, he was going to have a long talk with the Lord about what to do about this woman.
When Hans stopped the horses outside the doctor’s office, Constance stirred in his arms. He took one last moment to enjoy her essence before she was fully awake.
She stretched as she sat up away from him. “Where are we?”
“Dr. Harding’s house.” Hans slipped off the horse, then reached back for her.
“I don’t need a doctor.”
Hans helped her down, and when her feet reached the ground, her knees buckled. He held her up, then pulled her against him. “We’ve been on the horse a long time.”
He was glad the doctor lived on the edge of town, and there weren’t any people in sight. They might misconstrue why he was riding and holding her in his arms. He didn’t want anything to sully her reputation.
Constance pulled back. “I can stand up.”
“Are you sure? Let me help you inside.”
This time, she didn’t argue. They walked slowly, and she limped a little.
When Hans knocked on the door, the doctor answered. The older man took one look at Cons
tance and stepped back, giving them plenty of room to enter. “So what happened?”
“She was thrown from a horse.” Hans looked down at her and read the pain in her eyes. “I don’t think she’s hurt too bad, but we had a long ride back to town.”
“Bring her into my exam room.” Doc Harding led the way. “Did it knock her unconscious, young man?”
“Yes. She was just coming to when I reached her.” Hans picked her up, and this time she didn’t object.
While he was laying her on the bed in the examining room, Mrs. Harding bustled through the door.
“I’ll take over now, young man, and my wife will assist me.” The doctor was all business. “You can come back and check on her later.”
Hans glanced at Constance, and she nodded. “I need to get the horses to the livery stable anyway. I will be back, though.”
When Hans walked out of the room, Constance relaxed. Having him near kept her in a constant state of unrest. She didn’t want to think about why.
“Let’s have a look at you.” The doctor, an older man with a shock of white hair and unruly brows over kind eyes, reminded her of one of her neighbors back home. “Where do you hurt?”
“All over, I think.” She tried to laugh, but even that caused pain.
The doctor’s wife took Constance’s hand. “I’m Wilma Harding, and this old sawbones is my husband. He just wants to help you, but he’ll have to examine you. Would it be all right if I help you out of these clothes and into a gown?”
Constance cut her eyes toward the tall man.
“I’ll be waiting right outside until you ladies are finished.”
When the door closed behind him, Constance let go of the breath she had been holding. Wilma Harding got a voluminous white gown from a chest beside the door. She helped Constance slip it over her head before she started removing her clothing under the covering. Constance was glad that she didn’t have to undress completely in front of the woman.
Soon the doctor returned and started prodding various places on her body. “You already have some bruising. Did you land on your back?”
She nodded.
“Then you need to turn over.”
After Constance settled on her stomach, Mrs. Harding put a soft pillow under her head. Then she took Constance’s hand once again.
“I’m trying not to hurt you,” the doctor explained, “but there must have been some rocks under you. A few of these bruises look like they go pretty deep. You’re going to be sore for a while.”
He straightened up, and Mrs. Harding helped Constance rearrange the gown.
“I don’t think you have any broken bones.” Dr. Harding stroked the white goatee on his chin. “Since you were unconscious for a bit, I want to keep you under observation for a while.”
Constance tried to sit up. “But I have a job.” Mrs. Harding gently pushed her back down on the bed. “I bake for Mrs. Barker.”
The doctor stared at her for a minute. “Someone will let her know where you are.”
While he rode Blackie to the livery stable on the other side of town, Hans prayed for the doctor to know how to help Constance.
Charlie stood in the open doorway of the stable with his thumbs tucked under his suspenders and watched Hans ride toward him. “What happened to Blaze, and where is Miss Miller?”
By the time Hans had dismounted, Charlie was examining the horse’s front leg.
“Blaze stepped into a rut while going pretty fast. When he went down, Constance was thrown to the ground. I wasn’t too far back down the road, so I helped them. I left her at Doc’s.”
Charlie nodded. “Good…good. I’ve got some liniment that should help this soreness. It shouldn’t take too long for Blaze to be completely restored.”
“If it’s all right with you, I’ll keep Blackie a while longer.”
“Yup. Go right ahead.” Charlie led Blaze into the stable.
With determination, Hans turned the horse around and rode away.
ten
When the doctor finished with Constance, he asked his wife to stay with her. He didn’t want Constance to go to sleep for a while since she hit her head when she fell.
Mrs. Harding sat beside the bed. A knitting basket rested on the floor beside her chair, and a mountain of something filled her lap. Her clicking needles punctuated the conversation.
Constance liked the woman. Her tender, helpful heart shone through everything she did.
“How long have you been in Browning City, Constance?” Mrs. Harding switched directions on the blanket or whatever it was going to be.
“More than a month.” Constance wished she wasn’t lying so flat. She would rather face the doctor’s wife more comfortably. “Several weeks. I would have to count up to be sure.” She looked all around the room, trying to see if there were any more pillows anywhere.
The knitting landed on the basket and spilled onto the floor. “Do you need something, dear?” Mrs. Harding leaned forward, and her kind eyes studied Constance’s face.
“I just thought if I had more pillows, I would be more comfortable.”
The other woman bustled back to the chest beside the door and pulled three puffy pillows from its depths. After placing them behind Constance’s back, she sat down and picked up her work.
“Now, where were we?” The rhythm of stitches continued as if there hadn’t been an interruption. “Where did you live before you came here?”
Constance knew the woman was trying to keep her occupied, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to tell her every detail of her life. “I’ve always lived in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas.”
Before another question was forthcoming, thankfully, a knock sounded on the front door of the house.
“I’ll be right back. Just don’t go to sleep while I’m gone.”
In her mind, Constance followed Mrs. Harding’s footsteps up the hallway. She heard the front door unlatch and muffled voices carry on a conversation. The other woman’s voice sounded vaguely familiar, but because the two women spoke so softly, she wasn’t sure who exactly. Soon, two sets of footsteps came back down the hallway.
“Constance, look who came to check on you.” Mrs. Harding preceded the visitor through the doorway.
“Mary.” Constance was glad to see her friend. “How did you know I was here?”
The pastor’s wife smiled at her. “Hans came to tell me. We agreed that you shouldn’t go back to your room at the boardinghouse. I’m going to take you to the parsonage to recover. He should be here soon with a buggy.” She turned toward the doctor’s wife. “That is, if it’s all right with you.”
“I’ve enjoyed having her, but I do believe it would be better if she were with good friends.” She picked up her knitting and moved it away from the chair. “Why don’t you sit down and visit with Constance? I’ll go get you some coffee.”
Mary sank into the chair but put a restraining hand on Mrs. Harding’s arm. “I don’t need any coffee. Hans should be here soon.”
Almost before Constance realized what was happening, she rested once again in the strong arms of the man who rescued her. Hans carried her out to the waiting carriage and placed her in the cushioned rear seat. Then he lifted Mary up to sit beside her.
He drove slowly toward the parsonage, probably to keep from jarring Constance too much. The man’s thoughtfulness touched a place in her heart. No one had ever taken such good care of her. She was usually the one seeing to other people’s needs.
Mary kept up a running commentary all during the ride. At the house, Hans lifted Mary down, and she proceeded up the walk to open the door.
When he lifted Constance from the vehicle, she started to tell him that she could walk. He didn’t give her a chance, because he swept up the walk and into the house very quickly. Instead of taking her into a bedroom, he set her down in an overstuffed chair in the parlor.
“Thank you, Hans.” Mary hovered near. “Why don’t you come back and share supper with us? I’m sure Jackson will want to hear all a
bout your exciting day.”
Hans tipped his cap. “I’d be obliged.” He turned to Constance. “I’ll go tell Mrs. Barker what happened so she won’t expect you back for a few days.”
After he left, Constance exclaimed, “A few days? I should be okay by tomorrow.”
Mary sat on the end of the sofa nearest her. “We don’t want to rush it. It will be my pleasure to have you here.”
“But you’re going to have a baby. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”
Mary laughed. “Oh, Constance, not you, too. Jackson acts as if I’m made of blown glass. I’m perfectly healthy, and I will love having you here with me for a few days.”
When Hans returned for supper that evening, Constance still sat in the comfortable chair. He was glad to see that healthy color had returned to her face.
“Mary won’t let me lift a finger. I could get spoiled if this continues.” The twinkle in Constance’s eyes went straight to his heart.
“I don’t think you have to worry about that.” He pulled a straight chair near hers. “I hope I didn’t scare you when I rode toward you. Was that why you rode faster?”
Constance’s gaze dropped to her hands, which she twisted in her lap. “I probably owe you an apology. I should have listened to you about the dangers of riding alone. When I heard you coming, I was afraid you were a highwayman.”
She turned her eyes toward him, and her expression held true remorse. “We both made a mistake. Let’s just forgive each other.”
“Ja, forgiveness is a good thing.”
Supper with his three best friends loomed as a blessed promise. Best friend? Is that all Constance is? But she couldn’t be anything else until she opened up to him completely. He had prayed about her often, and he felt that God wanted them to be together, at least for now. Even though they had spent a lot of time together, she still held something back.
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