11
JONAH
We rode at a breakneck pace to James’ house. Our house. I had to hope Abel’s mood had changed and he would be a congenial host. While Tennessee had boldly stated she had two husbands, I also hoped Abel wouldn’t speak poorly of a Bridgewater marriage to the sisters. They were just like Tennessee, curious and overeager. But that wasn’t a problem right now, especially since it could all be moot.
James could be dying even now. Dead.
Fuck, I didn’t want this to be happening. I didn’t want that old quack of a doctor to be right.
I glanced at Tennessee riding beside me. She sat a saddle beautifully, had no problem keeping up. Her bonnet dangled from the ribbon, her hair in a braid down her back, but long tendrils blew back in the wind. I only saw fierce determination on her face.
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