Terms of a Texas Marriage

by Lauren Canan

  I never should have left without her. That thought kept churning in his mind. I never should have left her alone in that house.

  Once the jet landed at the airport, a helicopter was waiting, ready to take him back to Calico Springs. This time he would make her listen to him. At the meeting he’d scheduled to take place in four days, he was calling a halt to the project. It was worth any financial loss if it meant having Shea in his life. He needed her. Scotty needed her. And he believed Shea needed them.

  * * *

  The sound seemed to come from far away. Shea ignored it, not wanting to leave the dark recesses of sleep that had finally given her temporary peace.

  Almost every day since Alec and Scotty had left, she’d saddled a horse and had come out to the ruins of the old homestead. She’d reflected on her limited options but unlike the previous times in her life, she’d found no solution. There was no peace. In the end, everything came back to Alec and what she would do without him in her life.

  The sound grew louder, now joined by a voice calling her name. Blinking open her eyes, she sat up.

  Thunder rolled across the sky as lightning flashed, challenging the darkness. The wind roared around the old structure, bringing the smell of the pending rain.

  “Shea!”

  It was Hank. As she stood up, she saw the truck about a hundred yards away heading toward her at a high rate of speed. He came to a screeching halt in front of the foundation.

  “There’s trouble,” he told her without preamble. “Get in.”

  Recognizing the serious tone in his voice, she jumped into the vehicle without a word. He spun around on two wheels and they headed back over the rise.

  “What?” She was almost afraid to ask.

  “It’s the house,” Hank said. “It’s on fire.”

  “What!” Shea couldn’t immediately grasp the meaning of what he said. “The house...my house?”

  She saw him nod, his mouth set in a grim line.

  “How?” Her mind was reeling.

  “Don’t know,” he yelled over the sound of the racing engine. “My guess is lightning. But as old as the place is, it won’t take it long to burn down. That wood’s like dry kindling.”

  Shea sat in stunned silence. Hank bypassed the trail and shot a straight line for the house, tearing through the wooded area a half mile away from it. They bounced over stumps and plunged through shallow ravines, sideswiping trees and boulders.

  As soon as they topped the last rise, she could see the flames against the darkened sky. Fire equipment surrounded the house along with police and ambulance. Men were running in all directions, shouting to each other and scrambling to battle the flames shooting out the windows. A black wall of smoke engulfed the old composite roof; the large streams of water the firefighters were spraying onto its burning surface had little effect. Bright red, blue and white lights flashed and cast an eerie ambiance over the horrific scene unfolding around her.

  She jumped from the truck before Hank came to a complete stop and ran toward the house. One of the firefighters caught her, bringing her to a stop.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’ll need to stay back.”

  “It’s my house,” she screamed over the commotion.

  “Ma’am, you can’t go inside.” His tone had changed to one of understanding, but he remained adamant in his refusal to let her near the house.

  “But—”

  “Please, ma’am, you must stay back. The walls could collapse at any time. Please.”

  She turned away, unable to stop the flow of tears as they streamed down her face. She’d never felt so powerless in her life. The nightmare was coming true, playing out in full color right in front of her eyes. She stumbled to the far side of the three-story structure and watched helplessly as the flames continued to eat at the roof.

  At least Alec and Scotty were gone and in no danger.

  Then something caught her attention. It looked like a face in the upstairs window. Scotty’s room. She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked again. Was Alec here? Had they come back? Was Scotty trapped inside? Between the darkness and the smoke billowing out of the window, she couldn’t be sure. Sheer terror gripped her heart. She anxiously searched around her for any sign of Alec.

  “Scotty!” Firefighters were pulling more hoses from the trucks, yelling instructions to each other while the anxious ranch hands and their families looked on. Then in the distance, on the very edge of the illumination from the flashing lights on the emergency vehicles, she spotted a white car. It looked like the sedan Alec had been driving while he was here. He’d come back! Frantically, she took one more look around her but couldn’t spot Alec in all the chaos. Time was running out. She ran to the closest firefighter, tugged on his jacket to get his attention and pointed to the upstairs window. “There is a child up there.”

  She had to yell to be heard over the roar of the fire and the commotion on the ground. The man looked in the direction she indicated. A dark cloud of smoke still plumed out the open window.

  “I don’t see anyone, ma’am,” he said, still looking. “We checked the house before the fire got to this stage. There was no one inside.”

  “But he’s there!” She pointed to the window.

  The man turned and hurried back to one of the fire trucks, yelling instructions to the others. She didn’t have time to wait. Scotty didn’t have time to wait. Without another thought Shea took off at a dead run toward the kitchen door. If she hurried, there was a chance she could reach Scotty in time.

  Taking a deep breath, she bounded up the outside steps and pushed her way inside. The wall of heat was overwhelming. A thick blanket of smoke filled the room, whirling around her as the fresh air followed her into the kitchen. She quickly wet some towels, held them against her face, and ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time. The closer she got to the second floor, the more intense the heat became, surrounding her like a giant furnace.

  As she reached the top of the stairwell, she heard a loud crackling sound and a cloud of dark gray smoke billowed down from the roof. She coughed violently as she urged herself forward. Just a few steps more.

  “Scotty!” No reply. Crouching low to the floor, she crawled down the hall. The towels seemed of little help as the smoke burned her throat and lungs. The loud roaring from the inferno brought renewed terror. Am I already too late? The smoke burned her eyes, further restricting her sight. Feeling her way along the wall, she finally reached his room.

  She hesitated in the doorway only a fraction of a second before plunging into the smoke and ash, not stopping until she reached the window where she’d seen the small face. Suddenly, the smoke swirled away from the open window. She gasped for a breath of air. It was then she saw it. The owl. It hadn’t been Scotty she’d seen in the window. It was his stuffed owl. At that instant, a loud crash from another part of the house rocked the floor under her feet.

  Turning, she began the arduous journey back down the hall. Approaching the doorway to her old room, she knew a moment of anguish for all the cherished things that would soon be lost forever. The linens, hand-embroidered by her mother, the wedding gown, pictures of her father and the family Bible. The only things left of the Hardin family were in that cedar chest. It sat not more than four feet from where she stood. She couldn’t see it because of the smoke, but she knew it was there.

  Acting purely on impulse, she lunged for the big chest. Grabbing the handle, she began pulling it from the room.

  The smoke was thicker than it had been only a few moments ago and every breath was a horrific struggle. At the top of the stairs, she gave a hard push and the chest began to slide down, bumping over each step. It was almost to the bottom landing when the corner caught in the stair railing, halting its progress.

  Climbing over the chest, she tried tugging from the lower side. Suddenly, the ra
iling gave way and the chest lurched forward. The motion threw her off balance and she fell, tumbling the rest of the way down the stairs, the heavy trunk crashing down on top of her.

  As she teetered on the edge of consciousness, she pushed at the trunk, but it had become lodged between the newel post and the wall, effectively pinning her underneath.

  Her ears were ringing. With each cough, her lungs filled with more minuscule particles of ash. She pushed frantically at the chest, trying to dislodge it enough so she could scoot out from underneath.

  The roar of the fire, which now surrounded her, was almost deafening. It was so hot. For a moment, she gave up her attempts to push the chest away and covered her face with her one free arm, desperately trying to breathe. Unable to move, all she could do was look toward the ceiling as the nightmare continued to unfold.

  She knew she was suffocating, dying a horrendously slow death. Her thoughts were of Alec, her mind encapsulating their time together. He was a good person. A good father. And she loved him with all her heart. Even if that love wasn’t returned. The times he’d held her in his arms she’d been given a little taste of heaven on earth. She could see his handsome face in her mind’s eye. His smile. The glitter of amusement in his golden eyes. She could hear his voice, so strong and deep. She was glad she’d had the opportunity to know him. To know what it was like to totally lose herself in his arms. What she wouldn’t give for another chance to be with him without the issue of the land hanging over their heads.

  There was so much more to life than history and tradition. Alec had shown her that. The really important things were the people you loved, not man-made structures. Even the land couldn’t give you a glimpse of the stars and hold you close and protect when you floated slowly back down to earth. Material things couldn’t make you feel safe while a storm of trouble threatened to tear your life apart. They couldn’t give you hope for the future. They couldn’t love you back. Why hadn’t she realized it before it was too late? The way she missed her dad should have told her it was the people you love that mattered.

  Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. She could barely feel the moisture running down her face. It was so hot. If only she had a second chance she would make sure Alec knew he was the only thing that really mattered. Oh, how she wished she could somehow let him know.

  “I love you Alec,” she whispered as more tears joined the first. “I love you.” Another crash pulled her attention to the area behind her. Craning her neck, she watched helplessly as pieces of flaming debris fell all around.

  The thick cloud of smoke prevented her from seeing the flames on the burning ceiling above her, but she heard the loud cracking of the fire and the deafening shriek of the timbers as they lost their centuries-old struggle to hold up the roof. She heard her own scream, but it was lost in the loud crashing of falling timber. Then blackness swirled inside her head, dragging her down into the blissful realm of oblivion.

  * * *

  Almost as soon as the helicopter cleared the city lights of Dallas, Alec detected a yellowish glow on the darkening north horizon. It was a fire of some kind. While he prayed the cause was a farmer clearing out a brush pile, a churning in his gut told him it could be the house at the Bar H.

  “Chuck, can this thing go any faster?” Alec asked the pilot through the headset.

  The pilot nodded as if he sensed the urgency, sending them plunging ahead into the darkness. The closer they got to the yellowish glow, the more the fear churned in Alec’s gut. Finally he knew. It was the old house.

  I never should have left her in that house.

  Before the chopper fully set down in an area near the barn, Alec jumped out. The sight of the old, three-story house ablaze against the blackened sky was surreal. His worst fears were confirmed. The firefighters swarmed around the structure, sending streams of water to the top and sides in a last-ditch effort to save even a portion of the building.

  Alec looked everywhere for Shea but she was not to be found. As the sky opened and the rain began to fall in torrents, he spotted Hank. The ranch foreman was standing beside the Jeep, helplessly watching the firefighters’ valiant efforts to contain the fire.

  He raced to the older man. “Where’s Shea?” Placing his hand on Hank’s shoulder, he spun him around. “Hank! Where is Shea?”

  Frowning, the old cowboy looked around. “She was just here. One of the firemen pushed her back from the house.”

  A quick glance told Alec she was nowhere in sight. An ungodly fear began to fester in his gut.

  “I don’t know where she went...”

  The scream that pierced the night air was a sound that would haunt Alec for the rest of his life. Above the shouts of the men, the roar of the fire and the rumbling thunder overhead, one shrill scream from inside the burning inferno gave him his answer.

  “My God, she’s inside!” he whispered almost to himself. “Hank, Shea’s inside. Get help!” He ran toward the house.

  Before he could reach the porch, one of the firefighters grabbed his arm. “Sir, you can’t go inside.”

  “She’s in there. She’s inside.”

  “Sir, no one is in the structure and we can’t let you go—”

  With one well-placed blow of his fist, Alec halted both the man’s words and any further attempt to hold him back. He sprang for the kitchen door, sensing others close behind who might try to stop him.

  At first he didn’t see her. The combination of searing heat, black swirling smoke and the demands from the firemen to get out almost made him turn away. Then Alec spied the chest at the bottom of the stairs and the still form lying underneath it. For an instant terror flooded his body and the vile churning of his stomach rendered him incapable of movement.

  “There!” he shouted and lunged in that direction.

  The men pulled the chest from over Shea’s limp form. Alec scooped her body into his arms and ran for the door. A loud crash followed their retreat as the roof tumbled to the ground behind them.

  Once he was clear of the building, Alec fell to his knees and laid her gently on the water-soaked earth.

  Immediately, paramedics and firefighters surrounded her. One of them pushed him up against a fire truck and shoved an oxygen mask over his face, while the others focused their attention on Shea’s still body.

  The downpour continued as the lightning pierced the clouds overhead. For what seemed an eternity, Alec could only watch in stunned disbelief while the paramedics worked to bring life back to her fragile body. He ignored the rain, the fire, the shouts of the firefighters, every cell in his body attuned to the woman who was fighting for her life.

  Finally, a small cough gave him some hope. She was alive. But she’d been in the smoke a long time. Maybe too long.

  * * *

  Within twenty minutes, EMTs had Shea strapped in and the Care Flight chopper lifted off, heading for the special burn unit at Regency Hospital in Dallas. Alec wasn’t allowed to ride with her, but he followed in his own helicopter.

  Shea was already being treated when he entered the ER. She was alive, but no one could tell him anything more than that. He called Leona. And he waited.

  Two hours later, one of the doctors walked into the hallway.

  “Mr. Morreston? I’m Dr. Clements. Your wife is stable, but we’re going to keep her a few days just as a precautionary measure. She may have a few bruises, but considering the circumstances that brought her here, I’d have to say she was very lucky. The concern is her lungs. She has some indication of thermal injury to her upper airway and depending on the toxicity of the wood, it may take another forty-eight hours for any chemical injuries to become evident. We want to be sure she’s okay before she’s released.”

  With a comforting tap on his arm, the doctor left and Alec was once again alone with nothing but a handful of hope and a gut full of regrets to keep him company. He
didn’t want to think about what might have happened had he not returned when he had. He revisited that narrow escape in his mind a thousand times before the sun peeked over the far horizon.

  * * *

  Three days later, Shea and Alec made the ride in the limo from the hospital to the large hotel on the Dallas outskirts in silence. He sat beside her as he had in the hospital room. Not pushing her to talk, just silently offering his strength.

  Shea was grateful to be alive. The fact that Alec was here with her tugged at her heart. They would have to talk eventually. She had to make sure he knew she would not make any further attempt to keep the land. It was his land, after all, and had been from the beginning. After everything she’d put him through, eating crow seemed the least she could do.

  She’d been given the second chance she’d prayed for. She had to use it carefully. She would not screw up again. Every cell in her body wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms and confess how very much she loved him. But while in the hospital, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about their situation, and it had occurred to her that a full confession of her feelings might not be the best way to go.

  Apparently Alec had returned to the Bar H, no doubt intending to make sure she’d packed her bags. He hadn’t counted on the house burning down. Rather than simply escorting her to the door, he’d been forced to save her from her own foolishness. It was bad enough that he’d risked his life for her; now her immediate homeless status effectively made her a liability. Again.

  She wasn’t sure how to approach him. Declaring her love could be awkward for him and cause him to feel responsible for her welfare. This was her last chance, her only chance, to get it right. She had to be strong, this time for Alec.

  When the bellhop opened the door to the luxury suite, Shea glanced around at the opulent surroundings. Never could she have imagined such luxury. It suddenly washed over her: this was Alec’s world. After his time at the ranch, she’d come to think of him not as a billionaire but just a nice, if somewhat stubborn, guy. Being here, seeing a sample of how he must usually live was...surreal.