Karen Kirst - The Husband Hunt

But then her panicked expression registered, and as she rushed to whisper in Doc’s ear, Nathan grabbed his Bible and, pushing to his feet, hurried down the aisle toward her, his decision forgotten, uncaring what anyone else thought.

Something was wrong with Tobias.

* * *

As much as Nathan’s immediate reaction of censure chafed, Sophie dismissed it. The disturbance couldn’t be helped. Granddad was fading fast, and she didn’t care if she had to interrupt the President of the United States himself if it meant getting help.

Gray hair flittering in the breeze, Doc ushered her outside and down the church steps. “Are you able to ride your horse or would you prefer to ride in my buggy?”

She knew she looked affright, her hair pulled back in a disheveled ponytail and her breathing coming in ragged puffs. “I’ll take my horse.”

With a curt nod, the middle-aged doctor settled his hat on his head and strode for his buggy parked near the church entrance.

“I’m coming with you.”

Sophie jumped at the sound of Nathan’s gravelly voice right behind her. She spun around, ready to tell him not to bother, only to falter at the disquiet darkening his silver eyes to gunmetal gray. He was offering her support. Something she desperately needed right now, even if she was irritated with him.

Admit it, you don’t want to be alone if this truly is the end.

She cleared her throat, barely holding the tears at bay. “Fine.”

Dropping his Stetson on his head, he strode to his horse and, securing his Bible in the saddlebag, mounted up. They rode hard and fast through town and along the country lane leading to her place, arriving right behind the doctor. Will, who’d stayed behind, burst through the door, his small face pinched with fright.

Sliding to the ground, she dropped the reins and grasped his shoulders. “Will?”

“I’m scared, sis,” he whispered, burrowing his face in her middle.

Her chest constricting, she wrapped her arms around his thin frame and held him close. The flimsy piece of string restraining her hair had broken free during the jolting ride and now her hair spilled over her shoulders, shielding her face. Good. Nathan wouldn’t be able to see how close she was to losing it, the grief and fear surely written across her features.

He stood very close to them, almost touching, the strength emanating from his tall frame surrounding them like a tangible force. When she lifted her head, she risked a glance his direction, afraid he’d see through all her flimsy defenses and realize she wasn’t as strong as she pretended to be. That she was, in fact, weak. Vulnerable. Fragile.

However, his eyes were closed and his lips moving. With a start, she realized he was praying. For her and Will and Granddad. While she knew Nathan’s faith was solid and very important to him, he was a private man. She’d heard him pray a handful of times over a meal but this was personal. This was him petitioning God for her sake.

Her heart swelled, her love for this man burrowing so deep that she suspected she’d never be able to uproot it.

Movement in the doorway caught her attention.

“He’s asking for you.”

The finality in Doc’s voice washed over her like a bucket of icy water and, despite the midmorning heat, goose bumps raced along her skin and she shuddered. With an arm around Will, she forced her feet to move, to lead them both inside.

Memories of another death slammed into her. It was as if she was eight again, fear and dread clawing in her chest as she walked into this very room to say goodbye to her ma. To place a kiss against her cool, colorless cheek. Granddad had been right there to hold her, to comfort her.

Why God? Why must I say goodbye? I’m not ready!

They hesitated in the entrance. Will trembled beneath her arm, and she hugged him closer, attempting to instill comfort with her touch.

Tobias’s eyes fluttered open and he lifted a finger. “Come...closer, children.”

Needing to be near him, Sophie eased down on the bed and took his withered hand in hers, clinging with as much pressure as she dared. Will stationed himself beside the bedside table, eyes huge in his face, hands clamped behind his back.

In the back of her mind, she registered Sam and Mary’s voices mingling with those of Doc Owens and Nathan’s in the living room.

“I love you both.” Tobias dragged his gaze from Will’s face to hers. His tired eyes exuded calm assurance. Acceptance. “And I’m proud of you.”

“I love you, too, Granddad,” Will murmured, sniffling.

Tears blurred her vision. Stroking his hand, she leaned down and kissed his sunken cheek. “You know how much I love you. How much I need you. Please, don’t leave us.” Her voice cracked.

God, help me. I can’t do this.

“You’ll be fine,” he rasped, “just fine. The Lord’s calling me home, Sophie.” He was quiet a long moment, his lids sliding shut. “I wanna see my Anne.”

Will stood solemnly staring down at him. Sophie held on to Tobias’s hand, her fingers stroking back and forth. The hushed voices in the other room filtered in but she couldn’t make out the conversation. Tobias’s jagged breathing sounded harsh in the stillness.

They remained that way for a long while. Half an hour, at least. Maybe longer. Sophie spent the time praying, her gaze trained on her granddad’s face, memorizing the beloved features. Without warning, his chest stopped rising. His fingers went slack.

“Granddad?” She rested her head on his chest, but there was no heartbeat. “No. No!”

Tears coursed unchecked down her face. She couldn’t breathe. The edge of her vision faded to black. Where was that heart-wrenching wailing coming from?

And then, suddenly, strong arms were lifting her up, cradling her. Murmuring softly, Nathan carried her away. She wasn’t aware of where he was taking her. Eyes shut, she buried her face in his chest and let the tears flow. There was no hiding from him now. And right this minute, it no longer mattered.

Her granddad was gone, and she was all alone in the world.

Chapter Eight

Sophie gradually became aware of Nathan’s slowed footsteps, of him lowering them both onto a fallen log out of the direct sunlight. The stream was nearby. She couldn’t see it, but she heard the steady rush of water above her heart thwacking against her rib cage.

He held her securely, his arms looped around her waist and his chest solid and warm beneath her cheek.

“I’m sorry, Sophie,” he whispered, his lips brushing the curve of her ear. “So sorry.”

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