Wade shook his head. “She always tells our father when she’s going to the springs. She only said that she was going outside. Father thought she meant to the barn. Since we can’t find her, he thought maybe she went to someone’s house.”
Matthew slid his arms into his overcoat. “You check the springs, son. I will ride out to Gabriel’s.”
Henry nodded in agreement with his father’s plan.
Simon patted Henry’s back. “I’ll come with you.”
Matthew paused at the door and glanced between Henry and Simon. “We will find her faster if we spread out. Simon, walk over to the Cotters’ house and ask if they have seen her.”
Simon looked at Henry as if confirming the order. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
“Thank you,” Henry answered, grateful to have his brother’s support, “but Father is right. Go to the Cotters’. I’ll check the springs.”
Henry tried not to picture Hannah injured or trapped in floodwaters or beaten by the hail. The gut-wrenching force of fear would have crumbled him if it wasn’t for his determination to find her. He pulled on his boots and slapped on his hat.
His father hurried to the barn to saddle a horse, and Simon ran toward the Cotters’ farm. Henry buttoned his overcoat while dashing across the yard in the rain. Though lightning cracked in the eastern sky, he kept his eyes on the muddy path to the springs.
Why had she gone out in this weather? Break in the storm or no, she shouldn’t have ventured far from the house. Even if she wanted time alone to write, she should have had more sense. What if she’d fallen into the water and drowned?
His heart ached like he’d been punched in the chest. Worrying was senseless. Illogical. She was fine, probably hiding in the cave behind the waterfall, lost in her story world and not caring about the hail and thunder that had pummeled the land. When he found her, he would scold her and escort her home and that would be the end of whatever was between them. It had to be. It would hurt, but it was better than loving her more and losing her.
That was the answer then. He couldn’t love her. Not like this. Caring hurt too much.
He had work to do and a library to fill. He didn’t have time to run through the rain to find missing neighbor girls.
He cut across the Vestals’ property and took their well-stomped path to the springs. Beyond the orchard and pastures, the earth rose in a hill. The rain let up as he climbed the incline. Mud slurped beneath his boots, making each step more difficult. The wooded area near the springs was in sight.
He stopped to catch his breath. Something moved beyond a thicket. He squinted into the blowing mist. “Hannah?”
There was no answer.
He left the path and traipsed through the soggy grass toward the brush. A horse stood under the shelter of a tall gray leaf tree. Its reins were hooked on a low-hanging branch. The wet horse flinched, unsure if it wanted Henry’s help. Its brown and white mane parted, revealing nervous black eyes.
Henry held out a hand. “Whoa there, Zelda. You’re all right, girl. Where is Hannah?” He reached for the reins. The rope hadn’t been tied. Hannah had left her horse in a hurry. He checked the brush, the grass, and the limbs for clues. The ground was littered with pockets of melting hailstones. Thin, water-filled boot prints dotted the mud. If the hailstorm had surprised Hannah, she would have run for cover. He didn’t need to follow the prints to know where she had gone. He patted the horse. “I will be back for you as soon as I find her.”
Though the rain stopped, the clouds were still thick, suffocating the last light of day. Henry deeply bent his knees for balance as he descended the slope and hurried to the water’s edge. The roar of the nearby waterfall gushed violently.
The rocks where he’d sat with Hannah only a week ago were now buried under several feet of floodwater. He scanned the swelling stream as he hiked toward the cave behind the waterfall. The pool had broken free of its bank and—though it was getting too dark to see—water would be filling the shallow cave.
“Hannah?” he yelled over the tumult of rushing water. “Hannah?”
“Help!” A distant voice replied. “I’m back here!”
His boots slogged through the water as he rushed along the side of the overflowing stream. In the cave behind the falling water, the blur of a pale blue dress stood out in the fading light.
Hannah waved her arms and yelled over the sound of pouring water. “Help me!”
Henry’s boots filled with water as he moved as close as possible to the rock face without falling in and being swept into the current.
Hannah stood at the cave’s entrance, ankle deep in rising water. Her fawn-like eyes protruded with panic. “The water is rising quickly. I’m trapped!”
She was closer to the opposite bank than she was to him. If he could get to her, he could guide her to the far bank.
The rocks along the recessed back wall of the waterfall made a path to the cave during good weather, but the rising water and lack of light made it impossible to see where to step. If he slipped and fell into the rush of the falling water, it would take all his strength to fight the current. He yanked off his boots and overcoat and cuffed his trousers. “Stay there,” he yelled to her. “I’m coming to you!”
Turning his back to the rock wall, he inched his palms along its slimy surface and toed the stones beneath the water, taking slow careful steps until he was directly behind the waterfall. Heavy spray covered his face and the fall’s roar filled his ears. He turned his face in Hannah’s direction. “I’m almost there!”
His left foot found the next stone and as he brought his right foot to meet it, the rock wobbled beneath him. He sucked in air, expecting to plunge into the water, but was able to regain his balance. His water-soaked socks and trouser cuffs weighted his legs. He held his breath and felt for the next rock but instead of a slab of stone, the loose pebbles of the cave entrance shifted under his feet.
Hannah gripped his forearm and pulled him toward her with one hand while holding up her dress with the other. Water lapped at her shins. “Thank God you came! How did you find me?”
“Never mind that. It’s flooding fast. I have to get you out of here.” He glanced back at the path he’d taken. It was now too dark to see more than a few yards away. If they fell in, she would drown. Over her head he could see the bank nearby. “We can’t return to the path, but we can make it to the other side.”
“I can’t swim.”
He held her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “We have to get out of here before the water rises any higher.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“What if I fall in?”
“I’m with you.”
“What if I drown?”
“What if you don’t?”
Something warmed her eyes, replacing the panic with trust. She nodded briskly. “All right. What should I do?”
“Watch where I step and follow me.” He took her by the hand, her confidence in him bolstering his own, and led her across the water-covered boulder tops to the bank. His scarred hand throbbed as he felt along the craggy rock face, but the feel of her clinging to his good hand erased any mental complaint.
He moved slowly, checking his footing with each step as he led her from one rock to the next. With each forward movement, her quick inhales made him glance back. When his feet left the last boulder and sank into the bank’s soggy ground, he let go of the rock face and offered her both hands. She took them and stepped forward, breathing heavily.
Once on solid ground, she let go of him and bent down, propping her hands on her knees. “How will we get home from here?” She panted, trying to catch her breath. “The stream is flowing too fast to cross. We can’t see in the dark to hike up past the springs and cut our way through the forest to go around the water.”
He unrolled his trousers and water fell from the cuffs. His wet socks clung to his feet like ink on paper. Her boots would be filled with water too. He needed to find them higher
ground. He peered through the darkness at the bank, the grass beyond it, and what he could see of the tree line. How would he get her home? He couldn’t think over the sound of the waterfall. “Let’s follow the tree line and go farther downstream.”
She walked with him until they reached the trees then stopped. He reached out, but she didn’t take his hand. She covered her face and moaned. “What have I done? My family. They need me.”
“They are fine. It’s you everyone is worried about.”
“I promised I would always be there for them, yet I was gone all afternoon. Now it’s late and I didn’t make them dinner and I won’t be home to help the twins get ready for bed. I’ve never missed their bedtime, not once in their lives.” Her voice came out like the whimper of a helpless creature. “I broke my promise.”
“Because they had to make their own dinner?”
“Because I wasn’t there with them. I just wanted an hour alone to think about my story—”
“Your story?”
“Yes. I thought the storm was over, but Zelda got spooked when the hail started. I ran to the cave for shelter and then, well, you saw.” She pushed her hands through her disheveled hair and began pulling out the pins that had failed to hold it back in its usual bun. “Poor Zelda. I tossed the reins over a limb. She’s probably hurt.”
“Hannah, the horse is fine. She is right where you left her.”
“And my family? Did you see them?”
“Only Wade. Your father sent him to our house. He thought you might have gone there.”
She covered her mouth with one thin hand. “Oh, no. Your whole family knows about this? Who else?”
“My father and Simon went to search the village so probably everyone by now.”
“Oh, this is horrible. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.” She made a face as if disgusted with herself. “Last night I wrote a rescue scene in my story. I thought it would be a romantic experience, but this isn’t romantic. It’s humiliating. I shouldn’t have come out here. Or I should have told my father where I was going. I should have thought of someone besides myself.”
She should be glad she was alive instead of berating herself. Her emotional outburst made little sense. He waited for the annoyance to make him dislike her, but instead he shushed her gently and pulled her into his arms, not caring they were both wet and dirty. “Everything will be fine. I’ll get you home. Your family will be relieved. They will want to hear about your adventure. Just think of it as another story to tell.”
She slumped a little. Was she leaning into him or more embarrassed by what he’d said? He drew his head back and looked down at her. “What is it?”
“David will use this to try to ruin us.”
“Us?”
“That’s part of why I came out here. He was angry that you sat by me in church this morning and wouldn’t stop fussing about it at lunch. I had to get away.”
“He doesn’t like me, does he?”
“I think he’s afraid you will—”
“I will not…” He almost said hurt you but stopped himself. The truth was he might hurt her. He probably would. Eventually. “I’m not… without complications myself.” She started to pull away, but he held her for another heartbeat. “But when I thought I might lose you tonight, I knew whatever is between us is too important to ignore.”
She lifted her regal chin and the moonlight peeking between the parting clouds hit her face. She looked like war-battered nobility refusing to concede. “I won’t let David interfere, even though I know why he’s behaving the way he is. He lost Mother and now he’s afraid of losing me.”
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” He stroked her arms. “What do you want?”
“I don’t want to lose anyone I care about again either.”
It wasn’t the answer he was looking for. Emotion had clouded his mind. He probably wasn’t speaking logically. He needed to ask her outright if he could court her. Before he could say more, a tiny yellow light appeared across the flooded stream. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Over here!”
The lantern light grew, and his brother called from the opposite bank. “Henry?”
“Across the water, Simon.”
“Have you found Hannah?”
“She’s with me.”
“I saw her horse. Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. We can’t cross the stream. We’ll have to go around through the woods, but we can’t see to attempt it now.”
“Stay where you are,” Simon yelled to them. “I’ll get help. We’ll go up around the springs.”
“My boots are on the ground over there near the path.”
A few seconds later Simon replied, “I found them.”
“Bring them to me when you come.”
“Hang tight, brother. I’ll get some of the men and we will be back shortly.”
Chapter Sixteen
Hannah propped the back door open with a wedge of wood then walked through the mudroom and kitchen into the parlor to do the same with the front door. Though still a week until the summer solstice, the midday sun was already heating the house.
When she was a young girl and the elders were planning the voyage to the southern hemisphere, she’d imagined her new homeland having monkeys and jungle plants. They never knew the precise location where the Providence had run aground, but the Land enjoyed four seasons, so it was far from the tropics.
Summer had always been her favorite, and she looked forward to it the way she’d looked forward to Christmas as a child. This year, however, had been a blur. The pace of her writing during the spring had kept her from noticing the warming air and blossoming flowers. Now, spring was slipping into summer. The first storm of the season had left the air muggy, the orchard flooded, and her pride in tatters.
She tried not to think about yesterday’s humiliation. Trying didn’t help.
Washday puddles dotted the kitchen floor. She tiptoed between the puddles and found a scrub brush on the mudroom shelf. She tossed it to the wet floor then carried a bucket out to the well to fill.
At least her family seemed to be over last night’s chaos. Warm, clear days suited them by allowing everyone to stay busy out-of-doors. David and Wade were working with their father in the barn. Doris was at the coop teaching Minnie and Ida to gather eggs.
When Hannah returned to the kitchen, the breeze blowing through the house cooled the room. She placed a folded towel under her knees and began scrubbing the hard wood. Most of the dried mud on the floor had dripped off her dress when she’d finally made it home last night. The mud had seeped into the floorboard cracks and patched them just as Henry’s care for her momentarily made her feel better about her embarrassing blunder. What kind of careless ninny goes into a cave behind a waterfall for shelter during a storm?
A full day of hard work would be her penance for yesterday’s failure.
As she scrubbed the mud away, David climbed the porch steps. He leaned his dirty hand against the doorjamb. “Did he touch you?”
She stayed on her hands and knees but glanced up at him. “Who?”
“You know who. Henry.”
David was being a protective brother, but her relationship with Henry was none of his concern. His question rankled. She blew a wisp of hair out of her face. “Not inappropriately.”
He stepped into the mudroom and pointed at the drying washboard. “Is your dress ruined?”
“I can still wear it for chores. It’s only stained.”
“As your reputation will be if you spend any more time alone with Henry Roberts.”
“Keep your hateful opinions to yourself and get back to work, please.”
He crossed his freckled arms. “The girls were terrified when you were missing.”
“They’re fine now.”
“Did you go to the springs to see him?”
“No. Henry was with his family. Ask Wade. Henry found me and saved me from the floodwater.
You should be grateful for him.”
“He was the reason you ran off.”
“I didn’t run off.” She tossed the scrub brush into the bucket. “If you’re so concerned about me, why didn’t you know where to look? I’m allowed to have a few moments to myself. Yes, I chose the wrong time to go out yesterday, but Henry knew where I would be because he listens to me.”
“He probably listened to Cecelia Foster too until she fell for him, then he broke her heart.”
Hannah swirled the scrub brush in the bucket. The dissolving mud clouded the water. She imagined chucking the whole thing at David. “This is none of your business.”
“It is when my sister goes missing and upsets the family then comes home hours later with a muddy dress and a grinning suitor.”
“He is not my suitor.” She shot to her feet. “Get out!”
He stabbed the air with his calloused finger. “You made a promise to Mother.”
Tears welled up, blurring her vision. “I said get out.”
While David stomped away, Hannah gripped the scrub brush so hard her knuckles burned. The house, the kitchen, her promise—it all felt like more of a prison than the one Adeline had been in. She should go back to that scene with this suffocating feeling and bring Adeline’s captivity to life.
But Adeline had been taken prisoner whereas Hannah wasn’t physically trapped. This was her home, the place she was supposed to want to be. Her home was her life. She couldn’t escape the drudgery of this life except by death or time. The former wasn’t an option, so she was stuck with the latter.
The girls’ laughter carried across the yard. Her sweet sisters. She shouldn’t think of serving them as drudgery. She couldn’t let a little humiliation make her hope for death. Her discontent probably had more to do with her story than her surroundings. She should focus on writing the perfect ending, not on wishing her life with her family to end.
“Are you all right?” her father asked from the porch, his forehead shiny with sweat.
All Things Beautiful (Uncharted Beginnings Book 3) Page 11