Page 86 of At Love’s Command

“Be careful out there, Charlie. And remember . . .” She squeezed his hand. “No matter how angry Father may be, he loves you.”

Charlie gave no response, just pulled his hand from hers, turned his back, and mounted. A moment later he disappeared from sight.

“Mount up behind me, Doc.” Preach waved her forward. “We still gotta be ready to ride if things go south.” He pulled his left foot from the stirrup.

Josephine fit her foot into the vacated stirrup, though she needn’t have bothered. As soon as the big man’s hand clamped over her forearm, she soared through the air like a sack of flour being tossed into a wagon bed. Or onto a horse’s rump, in this case.

She held Preach’s shoulders for balance as she situated herself, then placed an arm loosely at his waist. He seemed the sort of man to take off at a gallop should he suddenly be called to action, and she doubted he’d provide sufficient warning. Best to have a handhold ready.

Despite the lightness of her touch, she could feel the tension coiled within him. That tension proved contagious, for the longer she sat there listening to the battle, the more her trepidation built. Soon she flinched at every gunshot, worrying over where that bullet might have lodged.

She tried to peer around Preach’s broad shoulders, but she saw nothing but trees. “Can you see anything?”

A growled order to be quiet was the only answer she got.

Josephine pressed her lips together. Maybe he could sense what was happening by the sounds filtering through the trees. He had served in countless battles, after all. Surely if he believed Matthew or one of the others was in trouble, he’d do something. Wouldn’t he?

She recalled the look on his face when he’d called her his mission, the unbending set of his jaw, the cold steel of his eyes. No. He’d be just stubborn enough to follow orders even at the expense of the man who’d given them.

Time crawled by. Minute after excruciating minute.

How could he just sit there? Not knowing Matthew’s fate was killing her. Every shot that echoed off the trees slammed into her chest. She needed to see what was happening. Gather data. Assess. Analyze. Find a way to help.

Be still.

She didn’t want to be still. She wanted to help. To heal. To—

Be still, and know that I am God.

Her left hand fisted in the fabric of her skirt. Her eyes squeezed shut. A tear slid down her cheek. I’m afraid, Lord. Afraid to completely surrender. Afraid that if I have no control over the outcome, it won’t end the way I desire. Afraid you’ll take Matthew from me.

Lean not unto thine own understanding.

Josephine’s heart pricked. That was it, wasn’t it? She trusted her own understanding more than she trusted God’s unfathomable wisdom.

Another tear leaked between her lashes. Forgive me. Slowly, her fingers unfurled, releasing their grip on her skirt. I surrender.

Her mind went quiet after that. Or was it the actual air? Josephine’s eyes opened. Had the shooting stopped?

The sound of horses approaching stiffened her spine. In a flash, Preach had his rifle aimed and ready.

“It’s me!”

Josephine recognized Mark Wallace’s voice a heartbeat before his horse cantered between the oaks shielding them from the battle.

Preach dropped his weapon and nudged his mount forward to meet his compatriot. Josephine’s right arm tightened about his waist.

“Taggart’s on the run,” Wallace announced as he reined his horse to a halt. “Over half the outlaws are down. Jonah is working his way through the camp, taking stock of injuries and disarming all enemy combatants.”

“And the captain?”

Josephine held her breath, her spirit crying out to God for mercy.

Wallace flicked a glance at her before focusing again on Preach. “He went after Taggart.”

“Alone?” The cry tore from Josephine’s chest. She grabbed Preach’s left arm and made to dismount. “Go after him.” She accented her order with a thump to his back as she slid off the horse. “The fight is done here. I’m safe. Mr. Wallace and Mr. Brooks can protect your precious mission while I tend the wounded.”

Preach hesitated, his gaze searching Wallace’s face. She could feel his longing to do exactly as she suggested. Knew he was champing at the bit to get into the fight, to watch his captain’s back.