Page 67 of His Perfect Bride
He smiled, his face taking on an almost boyish quality. “Good. Then you won’t take offense when I tell you that until the two of you are officially married, you should refrain from traveling alone. I recommend that you have a chaperone with you at all times.”
She ducked her head, unable to meet his gaze. Everything about their situation was embarrassing, including the reverend’s foregone conclusion that she would eventually marry Jackson. “As soon as we find Jackson’s sister, she’ll be our chaperone.”
“Perhaps you would allow me to accompany you until then?”
She met his gaze to find only kindness and not condemnation. “We don’t know where Augusta’s been taken by her kidnapper. We assumed we’d find her in Hope, and here we are miles north of Hope and we’re still searching.”
He gave a casual shrug. “The offer is available if you need it. I’m heading north to Lytton and from there to Dugan Lake. I can go that far with the two of you, and if you need to go farther, I know many people in the region and will help you find a new chaperone.”
For the first time since leaving Victoria, she released a freeing breath. “That’s very nice of you.”
“Good.” The reverend stood and stretched. “I think it’s time to go build a bridge, or at the very least figure out why it’s broken.”
She didn’t quite know what to say. Was he referring to the Queen’s Bridge or the one that needed repairing between her and Jackson? She was fairly certain both would be difficult to fix, but should she at least try?
Twenty-Three
The need for Sage pulsed through Jackson.
He’d been attempting to convince himself that the only reason he needed her was for her assistance in organizing his thoughts and writing down the mental list about the bridge that was running through his head.
Yet the convincing wasn’t working. The need for her went deeper than that—much deeper. No matter how hard he’d tried to forget about her or ignore her, he couldn’t. He was as aware of everything about her just like he always was.
From his position at one of the supporting piers up on the broken part of the bridge, he cast a glance at her sideways. She’d finished examining the rubble down by the river the way he had earlier, and she’d climbed up the switchback with Pastor Abe and was now searching the high mountain road, most likely for another clue from Augusta.
Sage’s process was methodical as she’d scoured both sides of the trail, examining the rocky area that bordered the river valley and then also searching the grassy side that led to the forested hillside.
She was only a few dozen feet away, and yet she felt miles from his reach. She’d felt miles away since the moment he’d left her behind last night.
She hadn’t looked at him for the past hour after she’d ducked out of the tent and joined the reverend at the fire. Jackson was grateful Pastor Abe had taken care of her sustenance, although he wished he’d been the one to offer her the plate of fish and mug of coffee.
He was surprised the reverend hadn’t left with the other travelers earlier. But Jackson hadn’t stopped to question Pastor Abe’s plans and had instead become engrossed in the wreckage. Now that he was finally back at the bridge, his curiosity was overshadowing the shame and guilt from the accident.
Of course, the shame and guilt were still twisting through him, but they weren’t clamoring as loudly anymore. He was growing in the conviction that it was past time to stop letting what had happened debilitate him. In fact, it was past time to institute a plan to rebuild—a plan that included a thorough study of the remaining pieces.
He paused at the rod that had been damaged, one that the ice had weakened. The expansion of the freezing moisture was the culprit in weakening the bridge. Was it possible he needed a different material for the rod? A larger diameter? An outer shell that repelled moisture?
What he really needed was her.
Expelling a long, exasperated sigh, he propped his knee on the nearest stone. He’d made a mess of things last night, which was no surprise. Instead of remaining calm while he was with her, instead of accepting her sweet declaration of love and responding to it with his own affection, he’d ignored her completely.
That’s because he was an imbecile. Even if he wasn’t ready for a relationship with her, he should have handled everything much differently.
“How is your search going?” Pastor Abe called to him as he meandered closer along the road.
Jackson straightened and homed in on Sage, who was poking around a trio of rocks off to the side of the road. She’d taken the time to fix her red-blond hair into a pretty chignon beneath her hat and to make sure she was put together. In a simple but stylish blue dress, she looked especially fresh and bright.
She was a lady every bit as much as Augusta. Maybe even more so. Not that her status mattered to him anymore. Not that it ever should have mattered.
The truth was, she was absolutely perfect for him.
The problem was that he wasn’t right for her. He’d hurt her last night, was hurting her this morning, and would only hurt her again. As much as he wanted her, he had to resist a relationship.
Pastor Abe stopped at the end of the road and didn’t venture out the way Jackson had onto the crumbling part of the bridge that remained suspended above the river.
“Sage said that your sister left two previous clues.” Pastor Abe scanned a nearby beam. “A charm bracelet for the first and a picture of the bridge for the second.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
