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Anger, fear, and helplessness all warred within him. She had taken his horse, and although she was a fine horsewoman, he knew that Thunder spooked too easily during storms. The sound of hooves outside of the stable interrupted his thoughts. He heard the familiar whinny of his horse.

Relief flooded him. She had come back. Carver ran to the door and out into the rain, but any hope he had was dashed to bits when he found Thunder standing alone in the stable yard with an empty, askew saddle. “No!” he yelled into the rain. Despair began to take its grip, but he refused to allow his mind to picture his worst fears.

Carver ran as fast as his legs would allow back into the servant’s hall. Felix was in the process of pulling on his own coat and hat when Carver stepped into the room, his muddy boots sloshing onto the floor. “Her horse has returned without her.” Carver saw the fear he felt mirrored in Felix’s eyes.

“We’ll find her,” said Felix as he finished shoving his arm into his sleeve.

Carver turned his attention to his butler and the few gathered servants. “We need to send out a search party.” He hoped he looked calm and assured, and that no one could tell he was trembling beneath his jacket. “It appears that Miss Bellows has been tossed from her horse and is lost somewhere on the grounds.” He pointed in the direction of a footman, allowing his need to be useful to dominate rather than letting his fear cripple him. “You. Go fetch His Grace, Lord Hatley and Mr. Turner. Be quick about it, but whatever you do, appear calm and say nothing to anyone about the situation.” The footman nodded and darted up the stairs. “You two,” he said to the worried looking chambermaids, “have a fire lit in Miss Bellows’ room, and ready plenty of blankets for when she returns.” Because she would return. There was simply no other option.

Carver and Felix were discussing a strategy for searching the grounds when his father, Robert, and Oliver came running down the stairs.

“What’s happened?” his father asked, concern surging through his words.

It was time his father knew the truth. This was certainly not how he had planned to tell his father, but it was imperative that he knew all of the details. He could no longer hide from his father’s eyes. From the memories. From the pain he felt when he saw his father’s empathy. He needed him.

As quickly and in as few words as possible, Carver explained the entire situation. When he had finished relaying the details, his father stepped in front of him and laid a hand on his shoulder. Carver really looked into his father’s eyes for the first time in years. His father smiled and Carver felt a weight fall off of him. “Don’t lose hope, son. We’ll find her.” He held his father’s gaze for several moments. We’ll find her. He wasn’t alone anymore. He didn’t have to face whatever was to come by himself.

Chapter 33

“I’ll take the north grounds,” Carver called out over the loud rain, knowing that was the way Rose was most likely to ride since it led toward the main road.

“We’ll cover the East and West!” Oliver shouted back. It was just Oliver, Robert, and himself who would be riding out to find Rose. They decided that Felix should stay at the servant’s entrance in case Rose returned while they were gone, and his father planned to find the runner and do all that he could to clear Rose’s name before she returned.

All three men nodded their understanding before Carver kicked Thunder, sending him running into the harsh storm.

It was nearly impossible to see through the dense wall of rain, but Carver did not stop his pursuit. He would not stop looking until he found Rose. He never should have left her alone in that hallway. He should have insisted that she stay by his side and come back into the ballroom. He remembered her tears. Was that why she had been crying? Had she heard about the runner and been planning on leaving even then? Why had he not asked her why she was crying? There was no way he would ever be able to forgive himself if something happened to Rose.

Thunder’s hooves pounded the ground, mimicking the sounds of the roaring winter storm. As they approached the forest line, Carver began to yell for Rose, but he knew the chances of her hearing him above the rain and wind were slim.

Veering Thunder down the path that Rose would have taken to reach the main road, Carver continued to yell with everything his voice had. Trying to push away the horrifying possibilities of what could have befallen Rose became more difficult with each passing second. A panic started to settle deep within him as his eyes raked over the grounds with no signs of the woman he loved.

But something in him knew she was out there. She was in trouble, and she was slipping from him. Somehow he knew it. And he was going to lose her just like he had lost Claire.

He continued to raise his voice above the storm, slowing Thunder’s pace to get a more steady look around him. A small cluster of trees caught his attention. He squinted through the rain, willing his eyes to see what they couldn’t. He placed a hand at his brows, trying to aid his hat in shielding his eyes from the pelting rain. He spotted a shadowed object lying under a tree. He squinted harder. Rose!

Carver put his heel in Thunder’s side and galloped to the tree. The horse had barely stopped before Carver jumped from the saddle and fell onto his knees beside Rose. She was lying on her back, motionless under the tree.

“Rose! Rose!” he said, pushing the freezing wet hair out of her face. She didn’t move. Her cloak and dress were completely soaked and her skin was ice cold beneath his touch. He leaned his ear in close to her mouth but he couldn’t make out whether she was breathing or not over the loud rain. He put his fingers to her neck, praying to feel a beating rhythm.

Thud, thud. Thud, thud.

It was slow and weak but she was alive. Carver took off his coat and wrapped it around Rose before pulling her into his arms. Her skin was ice, but she wasn’t shivering. That was a bad sign.

“Rose, darling, wake up! Answer me!” he begged as he held her close trying to offer whatever warmth he could. She didn’t answer. Didn’t flinch. He needed to get her out of the cold.

The sound of hooves approaching drew his attention as Robert rode up and jumped down from his horse. Carver scooped Rose up in his arms and moved toward Thunder. “She’s alive but unconscious,” he yelled over the rain. “I need help getting her onto my horse.”

Carver placed Rose in Robert’s arms before mounting Thunder and then took her up with him. Riding double was hard enough when the other person was holding on, but with Rose unconscious and the relentless dumping rain, it felt nearly impossible. But he had no other choice. Rose was depending on him to make it work.

Resisting the urge to give Thunder his head, Carver held his horse to a slow trot, focusing all of his attentions on keeping Rose pressed to his chest and secured in the saddle.

“You’re safe, Rose. I’m taking you home. You’re going to be okay,” Caver said the words out loud as much for Rose’s benefit as his own. But he wasn’t even sure if she could hear him. And he wasn’t sure he believed them.

After what felt like an agonizing amount of time, Carver made it to the front lawns of the house where one stable hand immediately took Thunder’s reins and another held onto Rose until Carver could dismount and pull her down to him.

Cradling her tightly in his arms, he jogged up the front steps where Henley stood holding the door. “Send for a doctor,” he said, sweeping through the door.

His mother and sisters had been waiting and moved to his side. Thankfully, it looked as though no one from the ball had been alerted to the situation or else there would have been an unwanted crowd forming around them. He could hear the music from the ballroom playing as he looked down at Rose. The joyful sounds did not match the lifeless picture in his arms.


Tags: Sarah Adams Dalton Family Historical