Page 69 of His Perfect Bride
“Where is she?” He didn’t care that he was yelling at the reverend. All that mattered was getting to Sage before she was lost to him.
“She was just here.” Pastor Abe was scanning the mountain road.
Jackson careened down the path that led to where he’d last seen her. “Sage!”
“Help me, Jackson!” Her faint voice wobbled with fear.
“Where are you?” He surveyed the woodland that rose steeply on one side of the road. The route wouldn’t be easy—would even be treacherous—but it was possible someone had hauled her up and into the woods.
“I’m here!” Her voice came again, this time closer.
He paused, examining the shadows of the woodland again, but he didn’t spot her anywhere amongst the pine and fir trees.
“Hurry!” she called. “I don’t know how much longer I can hang on.”
Hang on?
His gaze shifted to the other side, the steep drop that fell to the river bottoms below. At the sight of a portion of earth that looked like it had given way into a cascade of rocks and dirt, his heart plummeted to the bottom of his chest.
Already Abe was veering toward the spot. Jackson shot out an arm to block him from going any closer. If they loosened any more of the earth it would fall onto Sage and whatever precarious hold she had.
Abe halted, and his expression turned solemn. “What should we do?”
Jackson’s mind spun in a vortex of all the possibilities. Only one solution was viable. And if he didn’t act immediately, even that wouldn’t work.
“Grab on to my legs, Reverend.” That was all the explanation Jackson had time to offer before he dropped to his knees, flattened himself on the ground, and then stretched out so that his head was peering over the ledge.
At the sight of Sage hanging on to a protruding tree root with both hands but dangling in the air, his body nearly froze with the horror of the moment. Thankfully she wasn’t wearing her gloves, which would have made holding the limb much more difficult.
As it was, her knuckles were white and her veins prominent, the sure sign she was struggling to keep her hold. How long before she lost her grip?
For an instant, he was back at the bridge in the spring, staring at the unfolding disaster and in particular one of the workers who’d held on to a beam, suspended above the wreckage below. He’d called for help, and Jackson had nearly fallen off the broken bridge in his attempt to reach the fellow. But before he could snake his way down the remaining beam to grab on, the man had first lost one grip, then ten seconds later, he’d lost his other grip and had dropped. He’d yelled all the way down, and when he’d landed, silence had settled over the bridge, with only the river mocking them with its rushing life.
Jackson’s throat went suddenly dry at the prospect of Sage losing her hold. “Don’t let go.” He tried to keep his voice calm, didn’t want her to get more nervous than she already was.
“Help me, Jackson.” Her voice was strained, as if she was already having trouble.
“I’m coming.” He inched his way over the cliffside, and at the same time, he felt the reverend’s strong arms wrap around his ankles, anchoring him in place.
Jackson knew he couldn’t go straight down, not with the landslide that had already taken place. Instead, he had to angle his way toward her. It would take longer, but it was the safer route.
“Hold on, love.” Jackson used his most soothing tone as he scooted down even more, stretching for her hand on the root. If he could just grasp her hand…
He had to get a little closer.
Roots and rocks and prickly plants scratched at his stomach and his face. Though the sun was barely above the eastern range and only beginning to chase away the chill from the night, perspiration formed on his brow.
“I’m almost there.” He pushed himself over the ledge just a little farther. He could feel the strain on his legs and ankles where the reverend was clinging to him so tightly his knees felt like they might come out of their joints.
“Hurry,” she said in an urgent whisper.
He lunged, trying to snag her wrist, but he missed. God above, help him. The reverend had been more than right. Sage was not only a treasure. She was the greatest treasure he’d ever known. Hopefully she could accept his obsessive tendencies, because they would be mostly about her. Hopefully she could accept that he would hover and be jealous and need her too much at times. And hopefully she would be patient with him as he tried to change so that he wasn’t so hovering and jealous and needy.
God, You gave her to me. Don’t take her from me yet. Not until I have the chance to prove I can cherish her as she deserves.
The silent plea rose in desperation as he dove for her again. This time his fingers circled her wrist. “I’ve got you.”
A half sob escaped from her lips.
