“Okay.”
Pulling in a deep breath, Claire tensed her shoulder muscles and shifted onto her knees. “All right, one, two...three!”
It wasn’t as heavy as she’d feared. Or maybe it was adrenaline that gave her extra strength. Whatever it was, the rock lifted and she heard Harrie’s sharp cry of pain as she slid her foot out from under the rock.
Lowering the stone to the ground, Claire pulled the child back into her arms. “That’s my girl,” she said, rubbing her back. “You were real brave.”
“Can we get out of here now?”
“Yes, we can get out of here now.” Claire looked around as best she could in the near darkness, still fearful of what might be lurking in the shadows. “I can’t hear any bats. They must all be asleep.”
“There aren’t any bats. I made that up so no one would come in here.”
So she hadn’t entirely trusted her, Claire thought ruefully. Gently she examined the little girl’s foot. “Can you walk?”
“I guess so.” Harrie scrabbled forward on her hands and knees until she had room to stand up.
Claire watched anxiously as the child rose, no more than a vague outline in the darkness, and tested the foot with her weight.
“It doesn’t feel too bad,” Harrie said, “just a little sore.”
“Good.” Claire crawled toward her and cautiously stood up. “Then let’s go see your daddy.” It was at that moment that she realized something. Turner hadn’t answered her from the moment she’d told him about Newberg’s killer.
Her blood ran cold and she hesitated, trying to decide what to do. Her senses became aware of a new smell, a different smell that hadn’t been there when she’d entered the cave. She sniffed, recognizing the acrid odor this time. There could be no mistake. She could smell smoke. The fire had to be moving in their direction.
Forgetting her doubts, she yelled loudly, “Turner!”
She strained her ears to listen and thought she could hear the angry snapping of flames. She couldn’t waste any more time. Where was Turner? He wouldn’t simply walk off and leave them. Something must have happened.
She blocked out the vision of his dead body lying on the ground with the killer standing over him. She couldn’t afford those kind of hysterics.
Catching hold of Harrie’s hand, she moved toward the opening. Even the air flowing in seemed warmer, or perhaps it was her imagination, she thought.
She leaned over and put her mouth close to Harrie’s ear. “I want you to go out first,” she whispered. “Just put your head out far enough to see. If anyone is out there except your daddy, you get back in here, right?”
Harrie nodded, her body tensing with fear. “You think that man is waiting for me?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Claire said, praying she was right. “But just in case. You can move in and out of here faster than I can.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“We have to go, honey. We have to find your daddy. He’s waiting out there for us somewhere.”
After a long pause, a faint “Okay” answered her, and Harrie pushed her body into the opening, blocking out the light.
Claire wasn’t sure what she would do if the killer was out there. If they stayed in the cave they could die from the heat of the fire and smoke. The risk of confronting the killer seemed preferable to that.
She waited in an agony of suspense as Harrie disappeared from view. Then she released her breath in a rush when Harrie’s voice called through the opening.
“There’s no one out here, Claire. But the fire’s awful close.”
“I’m coming.” She scraped both elbows and knees getting through, but she hardly felt the pain. The smoke was thicker outside. Even so, it was better than the dank musty odor of the cave. Then she looked down the hillside, her breath catching in her throat. The entire lower half of the hills was on fire.
She wondered what had happened to the search team that was looking for Harrie. And where on earth was Turner? Anxiously she probed the darkness, praying she wouldn’t see him lying on the ground.
“Where’s Daddy?” Harrie asked, her voice echoing Claire’s fear.
“He’s around somewhere, honey.” Claire held out her hand. “Come on, we can’t stay here. We have to try to get back to the Landing.”
Before Harrie could move the sound of snapping twigs signaled footsteps above the noise of the fire. Grabbing hold of the little girl, Claire dragged her behind a bush, whispering urgently to her to keep quiet.
The shrub offered little protection, and Claire could only hope the darkness would help conceal them as she waited to see who it was coming up on them fast.
Then Harrie tore herself out of her grasp and darted a little lopsidedly around the bush. “It’s Daddy!” she yelled.
A second later Claire recognized the shadowy shape approaching. Wondering just how much more excitement her heart would bear, Claire got to her feet and brushed dirt and foliage from her jeans.
She waited until Turner reached her, carrying his daughter in his arms. “I checked around,” he said, his gaze sliding over her, “just in case. Couldn’t see anyone.”
“Thank goodness,” Claire murmured, wondering briefly how she must look.
“Yeah, well that’s the good news.” He nodded toward the advancing fire. “That’s the bad.”
Claire followed his gaze, her nerves jumping. Even as she watched, flames jumped from shrub to shrub, then licked the grass in long rows of yellow heat. The smoke had become denser, stinging her eyes and burning her throat.
“Can we make it back to the Landing?” she said, looking anxiously back at Turner.
He jerked his head at the back of him, toward the direction they’d climbed a half hour earlier. “Not that way,” he said grimly. “Take a look.”
She switched her gaze to the horizon and felt sick. At first glance it seemed as if they were encircled by the fire. “What are we going to do?” she asked, her lips suddenly dry.
“We’re going to make it down to the river.” He nodded ahead of him. “That way. If we move fast, we can outrun the fire.”
“I can’t run,” Harrie said, sounding scared again. “My foot hurts too much.”
“Then I’ll carry you.” He started forward. “Whatever you do,” he said to Claire, “stay close to me. No matter how tired you are, out of breath, whatever, you stay close to me. If I lose you I won’t have time to look for you.”
She knew what he meant. He would have to go on without her if he wanted to save his daughter. She gazed up at his face, tense and streaked with dirt, his gaze glittering at her in the light from the fire, and knew she had never loved him more than she did right then. “I’ll stay close to you,” she said quietly.
For a moment he looked as if he wanted to say something, then he gave her a brief nod. “Then let’s go.”
It seemed an eternity as they scrambled across the tufted grass, feet slipping and sliding, half stumbling, sometimes at a half run, always with the fire roaring at their backs.
After a while Claire stopped sending worried glances behind her. They were going as fast as they could. She couldn’t stop the fire. She could only hope and pray that they could outrun it.
A shower of sparks descended on her shoulder, searing the skin. She smelled burning and quickly brushed them off, without slowing her stride.
They shared the hillside with possums, rabbits, mice and gophers, and a dozen more species of wildlife that Claire hardly recognized. Most of them disregarded the humans who were their natural enemy. The fire raging behind the small creatures presented a far more deadly danger, and they scrambled ahead on tiny legs, intent on only one thing. Survival.
Soon the trees loomed ahead, filled with smoke and the snapping, crackling sound of flames. Claire had lost all sense of direction, she could hear Turner’s ragged breath as he carried his daughter over the rough ground, never slowing his speed.
Her ribs ached with the effort to breathe. Pain etched into her si
de as she pounded along behind Turner’s loping figure.
They reached the trees, and without slowing, he flung words at her over his shoulder. “The river’s straight ahead. Not far now. Keep watch for falling branches or trees.”
It was all he had breath for, but it was enough. Terror gripped her by the throat as she plunged with him into the hell that lay ahead.
They had gone no more than a hundred yards, when Harrie’s shriek rent the air. Turner stopped so suddenly Claire had to leap to one side to avoid crashing into him.
She landed next to him and saw what he had seen. A man stood barring their way, and in his hand, highlighted by the eerie glow all around him, gleamed the deadly shape of a revolver.
For a moment it seemed as if time stood still. The horror of it hardly penetrated as Claire stared at the face of the man who held the gun. He was smiling. “I’ve been following you,” he said almost pleasantly. “Figured you’d come this way.”
Very slowly, Turner lowered Harrie to the ground. She clung to him, burying her face in his leg as he moved to shield her with his body.
“That ain’t going to do you no good.” The man raised the gun to point it at Turner’s head.
Claire’s scream echoed through the trees. A second later a tremendous crash thundered close by and a shower of bright red sparks flew out from behind the killer.
He yelped, slapping his hand to the back of his neck.
As if in slow motion, Claire saw Turner shove Harrie into her, then he launched himself forward, his hands outstretched. “Run,” he roared. “To the river.”
She froze for a second, then as Harrie’s hand found hers, she leapt forward, dragging the terrified child with her. Past the two bodies struggling on the ground. On into the burning forest. The river lay ahead, Turner had said. She had to get Harrie to the river. Behind her a single shot rang out. She didn’t look back.
The heat exploded all around her. An enormous branch, blazing in a shower of sparks, crashed ahead of her, setting fire to the undergrowth. She spurted on, her breath rasping in her throat, Harrie’s whimper of fright echoing in her ears.
The smell of burning vegetation suffocated her. Her eyes stung so badly she could hardly see. She refused to think about what lay behind her. She closed her mind to everything except what lay ahead. The river. Survival.
She came upon it suddenly. The ground fell away from her feet and she slid with Harrie down the steep bank. She stopped their headlong plunge by grabbing the base of a spindly tree.
Only then did she look behind her.
It seemed as if the entire world were on fire. A wall of flame as far as the eye could see stretched in both directions. The sky was alight with it, painting the night clouds crimson and gold.
Claire stared at that raging inferno and almost caved in under the wave of helplessness and grief. Turner was still in there somewhere. Perhaps already dead.
She heard the whimper at her side and looked down at Harrie. The little girl sat huddled at the edge of the riverbank, her arms wrapped around her knees, which were drawn up under her chin.
Claire laid a hand on her head, wincing as the burn on her shoulder reminded her of what they had come through. “We’d better find a spot where we can wade in,” she said quietly. “Just in case.”
Harrie lifted a tearstained face. “What about Daddy?”
“We’ll watch for him,” Claire said, hoping her grief didn’t sound in her voice. She couldn’t afford to give in to it now. She had to be strong, for the sake of the little girl, who might well have lost her father this night.
She held out her hand and guided Harrie along the bank, looking for a place where they would be able to enter the water. Then she saw it. A tiny stretch of sandy beach. The water would be shallow at the edge. It would give them somewhere to wait, until the fire either passed them by or forced them into the water.
She sat with Harrie at the water’s edge and talked about anything that came into her head. Stories she only vaguely remembered from her childhood, movies she’d seen, places she’d been; songs she’d heard, though she couldn’t remember the words; anything to keep the inevitable questions at bay. After a while she heard something in the water.
Harrie heard it, too, and held a finger to her lips. “Shh,” she whispered, “what’s that?”
“Something swimming,” Claire whispered back, her heart pounding nervously again. “Sounds like an animal.” She tried not to think about cougars. “It’s probably a deer,” she added, making an effort to sound reassuring.
But it wasn’t something swimming. It was someone wading. For a terrible moment her heart seemed to stop beating, then the figure waded into sight.
She stared in silence, hardly daring to trust her eyes. Harrie cried out and scrambled to her feet, but Claire couldn’t move. She could only sit and gaze at the incredible, wonderful, unbelievable figure of the man she loved more than life itself. Turner was alive.
Chapter 11
He had never seen such a beautiful sight in all his life: his daughter splashing awkwardly toward him through the water and the woman he loved sitting staring at him as if he were a ghost.
He muttered a “Thank God” as Harrie flung herself at him, nearly knocking him off his feet. He lifted her to his chest and hugged her, tears misting his eyes when he felt her arms tighten around his neck. Then he waded to the beach and set her down on her feet.
He watched Claire stand, swaying as she straightened. He stretched a hand out toward her, then withdrew it again. He had to remind himself of who and what she was, before he got caught up by his treacherous feelings again.
Her eyes looked huge as she stared at him. Her hair was mussed and tangled, her face smudged with soot, and she had never looked more lovely. Even now, knowing what he knew, he couldn’t prevent the tug at his heart as he looked at her.
“I thought you...I was afraid...” She swallowed and shook her head in a helpless way that made him want to take her in his arms.
He turned away from her, not trusting himself. Squatting in front of Harrie, he smoothed the blond strands from his daughter’s face. “We’re not out of the woods yet,” he said, then smiled at his own irony. “Literally.”
“We should be safe here, though?”
He heard the fear in Claire’s voice and glanced back at her. “Not unless they get it under control, and it doesn’t look as if they’ll do that tonight.”
She seemed ready to cry.
He stood up again and took hold of Harrie’s hand. “There’s a small island farther down river.” He allowed himself a quick glance at Claire. “How good a swimmer are you?”
She lifted her chin in a gesture he was beginning to know well. “I’ll make it.”
He gave her a brief nod. “It’s not far, but the river current is strong.” He looked down at Harrie, who was watching them both with a solemn expression. “You think you can walk in the water, kitten?”
She answered him with a shrug. “I guess so.”
“Okay, let’s go.” He glanced down at their feet. “Take off your shoes. They’ll slow you down.”
He waited until they had done what he’d asked, then once more he waded into the river. “It’s a ways downriver, but we should be able to walk most of it until we’re close enough to swim.”
He cast an anxious eye above them, to where the fire raged out of control. It would take them a good ten minutes to reach the island. He hoped they wouldn’t have to head for deeper water before that.
He held Harrie’s hand through the nightmare of the next few minutes. Every now and again some small creature crashed down the bank and into the water. They saw a deer swimming upstream, only to see it disappear beneath the water a few yards farther on.
Harrie sobbed bitterly, and nothing he could do or say would console her. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life. Claire sloshed through the water behind him, saying nothing. He had to hand it to her. She had been nothing short of heroic. She had saved his daughter�
�s life. He could almost forgive her the rest for that. Almost.
Finally he could see the outline of the island, way out in the middle of the river. They would be safe there. He turned to Harrie, who was still sniveling.
“Okay, kitten,” he said gently, “this is it. I’ll be right beside you, okay? if you feel yourself being swept away, grab on to me, all right?”
She nodded. “Okay, Daddy.”
“Maybe we should tie her to one of us,” Claire said, her voice shaking with fatigue or nerves. Probably both.
He shook his head. “Too restricting. Harrie is a very strong swimmer. I wouldn’t chance it if I didn’t think she could make it easily enough.”
He glanced over at Claire, who stood looking forlorn and a little like a child herself. “How about you? Will you be all right?”
She looked at him and gave him a small smile. “Junior champion in the freestyle in high school,” she said. “I might be a little rusty, but I’ll make—”
Her last words were drowned by the dull explosion that ripped through the trees. Sparks flew into the air, and a giant fir, its branches blazing, slowly toppled toward them.
“Now,” Turner yelled, and, putting his hand in the middle of Claire’s back, shoved her into the water. She came up spluttering, then struck out for the island with long, slow strokes.
He waited just long enough to make sure she was okay, then he dived under the surface, dragging Harrie with him. He could feel the heat of the blaze as he pulled strongly away from the shore, Harrie gliding at his side like a baby seal.
He came up for air and almost choked in the smoke. For a moment he was blinded, and he splashed an arm out to his side in panic. His hand struck a small firm body and he heard the yelp of protest.
Then he could see again. Harrie’s blond head moved along with him, keeping pace. Just ahead of him he saw Claire’s arms beating the water in a strong crawl. The three of them had almost reached the island.
He felt the tug of the water then as the current swirled around the obstacle in its path. He kicked hard, his eyes on Harrie, who seemed to be struggling but was still moving steadily ahead. When he looked back again, Claire had disappeared.
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