“Are you injured,” Cathleen asked, looking at his cane when he came to greet her.
“Not at all, Miss Covington,” he leaned closer and whispered. “It is a cane gun. I carry it for protection.”
She smiled. “How fascinatin’. Are there many who wish you harm?”
“Not that I am aware of, but one cannot be too cautious. Robbers, you know.”
“Perhaps you might let Alistair care for it. I doubt you are in any danger here.”
She waited while Swinton returned to the foyer and handed the cane to the butler. Like a good hostess, she took his arm and walked him around the room to make certain he knew everyone. When she got to Cameron, who was still flanked by Pearl on one side and Loretta on the other, she made her excuses and deposited Mr. Swinton there.
Cameron noticed her sly grin as she walked away and wasn’t sure if she was trying to taunt him or rescue him. Just the same, Pearl and Loretta were quick to turn their attention to Mr. Swinton and Cameron was finally allowed to slip away.
*
For the first game, Hannish held up a hat with the names of all the lady guests on slips of paper inside. “A scavenger hunt,” he announced to the applause of his guests. “Gentlemen, draw the name of your partner.” He held it up, went around the room and let the single men reach in the hat.
When it was Mr. Swinton’s turn, he flashed a hopeful smile at Cathleen, but the name he drew was that of the same young woman he shared a lunch with at the town picnic. Both Pearl and Loretta moaned.
Susan rushed over to take his arm and excitedly exclaimed, “It is fate!”
“It would seem so,” Swinton said, a lot less enthusiastically.
Cathleen shrugged and then looked amazingly pleased when Steve Gamby drew her name. She went to stand beside him, although she didn’t take his arm. Cathleen didn’t like him much, but she liked him more than Mr. Swinton.
Next up was Cameron, and when he pulled out the name of neither Pearl nor Loretta, both of them moaned a second time. His partner for the scavenger hunt was Grace, a shy young schoolteacher who wore thick spectacles and was not quite five feet tall. When she went to stand by Cameron, the poor woman had to look up another foot and a half just to smile at him. It was all Cathleen could do to hide her giggle.
Finished, Hannish flipped the hat over and put it on his head. Next, he handed out sheets of paper. “My wife made a different list of items for each couple. The items are in plain sight either outside or in the rooms on the first floor, save the kitchen and Blanka’s room. There is a note asking that you not enter her door.” He finished handing out the lists and then raised his hand to quiet his mumbling guests. “The first to bring me all the items on your list may claim the prize.”
“A prize?” Pearl shouted. She grabbed her partner’s hand, and dashed out of the parlor toward the library. That got everyone moving in every possible direction, especially Abigail.
Claymore roared with laughter. “I love that woman, I truly do. Shall we place wagers on how long it takes for her to remember she left me behind?”
“Claymore,” Abigail shouted. She rushed back to the parlor, grabbed his arm and practically pulled him out of the room. “Don’t dilly-dally, Claymore, for pity sakes.”
Hannish grinned and put an arm around Leesil. “I believe we are a success already.”
*
To her disappointment, Abigail and Claymore simply could not find the whiskbroom on their list and finally gave up. The prize of two very nice writing pens and stationary sets went to Faith Carter and her partner, Theodore Smith.
After the scavenger hunt, the guests were encouraged to enjoy the finger foods spread out on the dining room table. While they ate, the MacGreagor quartet sang songs and then the guests went outside to enjoy matches on one of two croquet sets. The footmen kept the drinks coming, the cooks kept them fed and the guests where having a great time.
However, everywhere Cameron went, Pearl and Loretta followed and although she didn’t show it, Cathleen found their excessive attention to a man who had not yet finished grieving for his wife abominable. Cameron wasn’t happy about it either and hoped Cathleen would come to his rescue. On the other hand, Mr. Swinton was paying a great deal of attention to her, and he wasn’t so sure he liked that either.
“There is enough flirtin’ goin’ on here to make a Frenchman blush,” McKenna whispered to Nicholas as they sat in the shade watching the games.
Cathleen did not feel like playing croquet and instead pretended to enjoy yet another conversation with Mr. Swinton, but when she felt Blair take her hand, she was happy for the diversion. She leaned down, listened to what Blair wanted and then took her back to the house.
They were gone quite a while before Cameron made his excuses to Pearl and Loretta and went to look for them. He found them in the ballroom and for a moment, he stood by the door and watched as Cathleen tried to teach Blair how to waltz. The violin music was hardly discernible, but it was enough. He took a deep breath, walked to them and bowed. “May I have this dance?”
Cathleen nodded and curtsied, but Blair didn’t have that part down yet. She moved her leg back a little and tried to curtsy, but she nearly fell over. Just in time, Cameron scooped her up in his arms. Then he put his free arm around Cathleen and the three of them began to waltz, circling the ballroom as they danced round and round to the faint music.
Cathleen’s smile was radiant when she finally looked into Cameron’s eyes. She felt a flutter in her heart, the kind she read about in books and for a second she felt glorious – but then she realized what she was doing. Her smile abruptly faded and she looked away. Thankfully, the music stopped and Cameron let go of her. “I best see to our guests,” she said, hurrying out of the ballroom.
As soon as she was gone, Cameron hung his head for a moment.
“Father,” said Blair, putting her hand on his face and turning it so he would look at her.
“What?”
“I love Cathleen.”
He smiled and kissed Blair’s cheek. “She loves you too.”
“I know, she told me.”
*
Outside the ballroom, Cathleen fled down the hall, opened the door to the servant’s stairs and climbed the first flight. She looked both up and down to make certain no one would see, pushed the hidden door open and slipped inside the secret room. She closed the door, and then slowly sat down on the third step of the spiral staircase. A moment later, she buried her face in her hands.
She so wanted to be in love, but not like this – not with Cameron. She was only supposed to cheer him up, to comfort him, to pay him back in some measure for rescuing her from the orphanage.
A worse thought crossed her mind. Could he tell? Could he see what she felt when he looked in her eyes? She should have stayed and pretended his touch meant nothing to her. Instead, she ran away like a frightened child.
Cathleen felt so ashamed she wanted to cry.
Alas, there were guests to entertain, guests she herself invited. At length, she lifted her head and opened her eyes. She had to go back before she was missed…she had no other choice. They were friends, just friends, and nothing more she reminded herself. As soon as she felt more in control, Cathleen went back outside to join in the festivities.
*
As the first sign of a glorious sunset began to spread across the sky, the guests gradually left the outside games for cards, billiards and more refreshments inside. However, most gathered in the expansive parlor and talked of all sorts of things, while the footmen gathered the croquet games and put them away.
Cathleen was determined not to seem interested in what Cameron was doing. Instead, she paid attention to what Claymore and Hannish were talking about. She wasn’t all that interested in talk of building houses, and when Mr. Swinton joined them, the conversation turned to gold mining. That fascinated her even less, so she drifted toward James. She slipped her arm through his and whispered in his ear. “And to think we gave up our splendid home in
the orphanage for this.”
James grinned. “Shall we go back, then?”
“I suppose not. We must simply tolerate this meager existence as best we can.”
Cameron was well aware that Cathleen refused to look at him. Something in her had changed and he was pretty sure he knew what it was. He talked to his sister and Nicholas, but he wasn’t really paying attention. Instead, he repeatedly glanced at Cathleen. In a way, his attraction to her made him feel disloyal to Flora. A few months ago, he couldn’t imagine life without his wife.
Nevertheless, he could not deny that his feelings for Cathleen seemed to grow stronger each day. She was a lot like Flora, easy to be around, happy and fun loving, which was exactly what he loved most about his wife. Could a man be so fortunate as to find two such women in a lifetime? He doubted many were. Therefore, he was determined to see what could happen, even if the rest of the world thought it was too soon. He excused himself from the conversation with his sister, wove his way through the guests and went to her.
“Ah, just the lad I wanted to talk to,” said James. “Mr. Cameron, what is that thing atop Mrs. Whitfield’s hat?”
“A bird, silly,” Cathleen answered.
“Cathleen, might I…” Cameron didn’t have time to finish his sentence before Shepard loudly burst through the foyer door, causing everyone to turn and look.
“What is it, Shepard,” Hannish asked.
“Bells, Mr. Hannish, church bells in town.”
“On a Thursday?” Claymore asked. He made his way through the people and headed for the stairs. “Something is dreadfully wrong.”
“Fire!” Leesil shouted from the top of the stairs.
“Where?” Claymore asked. He quickly followed her into the upstairs sitting room and rushed to the window.
“There,” Leesil said, pointing north.
“The Black Forest,” Claymore sighed. He hurried back to the stairs and stopped halfway down. “Gentlemen, the Black Forest is ablaze.
The crowd collectively gasped. “What do we do?” Hannish asked.
“Grab shovels and take as many men as you can to town. The Mayor will likely head up the fire brigade,” Claymore answered.
“And the lasses?” McKenna asked. “What do we do?”
“Food and water for the men,” Claymore answered. “All the food and water you can manage…and scarves and kerchiefs for the men to wear over their mouths and noses.” Cathleen and Margaret Ann instantly lifted their skirts and hurried up the stairs.
As the guests began to file out the foyer door to get in their buggies, Claymore walked down the rest of the stairs and went to a desk phone. He picked the earpiece up, but someone was already talking on the party line. It could be hours before he got through, so he hung up. “Hannish, can you send a man to my house to gather men and supplies.”
“Aye, Egan, will you go.”
“Of course,” Egan answered. “He headed out the back door to saddle a horse.
“Hannish, you will need to leave a driver to haul supplies from here to the fire.”
“Stockton, you are the best driver we have. Will you do it?” Hannish asked.
“I would rather help you fight the fire, but aye, Mr. Hannish, I will do it.”
“Thank you, Stockton. The rest of you, start gathering supplies…and hurry.” He vaguely heard Cameron order James to stay behind to protect the women. That made one less person to worry about.
Hannish saw Claymore kiss his wife goodbye and grabbed his arm. “You are my dearest friend, but you are getting on in years. Will you not stay to protect our women and children instead?”
Claymore was appalled. “What, and not help with the fire?”
“I will rest easier if I know I need not go into the fire to rescue you.”
Abigail tugged on Claymore’s arm. “You know he is right. You are too old.” She watched her husband hang his head for a moment and then perk right up.
“He is not right. I can still drive a team of horses,” Claymore said. “I’ll not go in the fire if you insist, but I’ll be there if I am needed.”
“And you’ll come to warn us if the fire heads this way?” Abigail asked.
“Of course I will, my love.” Claymore took her in his arms and held her tight. “I would surely die without you.”
*
At last, everything that could be gathered on such short notice was loaded in the wagons, including all the MacGreagor men except Egan, who had gone to alert the Whitfields.
Cameron was the last to climb into the wagon. He turned around, sat down on the edge with his legs dangling off the end and looked for Cathleen. At last, he saw her coming toward him with Blair in her arms.
Cathleen let him hug his daughter, and then pulled the blue ribbon out of her hair and handed it to him. “For good luck. Promise to bring it back?”
Instead of taking the ribbon, he put his hand on the side of her face and looked into her eyes. “I promise.” He took the ribbon, stuffed it in his pocket and then held on as Claymore slapped the reins against the back of the four-horse team and jerked the wagon forward.
“Come along, ladies,” Abigail ordered as soon as the men were gone.
“Claymore will be back soon and we have work to do.”
Leesil had tears in her eyes after kissing Hannish goodbye, but she bravely wiped them away. “Abigail, have you seen a fire like this before?”
“I certainly have,” she said, yanking the foyer door open and walking back into the house. “We lost twenty-three the last time these mountains burned.” She heard Leesil catch her breath, stopped and turned back to comfort her. “My Claymore knows what’s best to do. He will see that nothing happens to our MacGreagors. Now come, sandwiches are the best. The men will need washcloths, towels and buckets of water to dump on their heads. It is hot business, these forest fires.”
CHAPTER 14
Nothing was more frightening in the Midwestern states than a fast moving prairie or forest fire. Dry lightning came with storms that normally produced little, if any rain, and fires had the potential to wipe out whole towns and kill thousands.
The furiously ringing church bells, followed by shouts of “FIRE” and fingers pointing north toward the Black Forest, alerted the entire town and most of the nearby farmers. Most folks had already gone home, businesses were just closing, and soon, evening would become night.
The mayor rushed out his Main Street office, looked at the column of black smoke billowing high into the sky and caught his breath.
“How far away?” Banker Goodwin asked, standing next to him.
“Not far enough. The land between the town and the forest is covered with dry grass and tumbleweeds, ripe for spreading in our direction. Pray the wind doesn’t blow down from the north. The last thing we need is to lose the college and Millionaire’s Row.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Grab a shovel. We must clear a fire line between the forest and the town, and then keep a close eye out for flying embers. If I know Josh Taylor, he’s already got his team hooked up and is plowing. His land is closest to the fire. I need to call the governor and let him know. If this thing gets too far out of hand, he’ll send the army to help us.”
“He should send them now.”
“I suspect he will. He won’t want that thing headed for Denver.” The mayor hurried back inside. A moment later, Mr. Goodwin heard the mayor shout, “Get off this telephone line, NOW!” followed by a pause. Then the mayor shouted, “Shirley, you keep this line clear for emergencies, do you hear? Put me through to the governor in Denver.”
Mr. Goodwin took a deep breath and headed home to change his clothes and find a shovel.
*
The amount of ominous smoke rising into the air from the Black Forest had greatly increased by the time men began to arrive from as far away as Manitou Springs and Colorado City. The MacGreagor wagon deposited their members and Claymore was promptly sent off to gather more men and any containers of drinking water
they could find. The creeks coming out of the forest were destined to soon fill with black soot and be rendered undrinkable.
Side by side, rich and poor alike began the work of saving Colorado Springs, and of keeping the flames from jumping the railroad tracks and consuming the dry timbers toward Palmer Lake. If that happened, there would be nothing they could do to keep it from spreading across the many foothills and possibly up to Victor, Cripple Creek and then Pikes Peak.
Just as the Mayor predicted, several of the farmers had already hitched up their teams and were using any means possible to clear a wide swath of ground between the edge of the forest and the town. Josh Taylor had given up plowing the brush under, in favor of dragging three horizontal logs behind his horses to scrape the ground clean. Other men gathered the dry foliage and loaded it on a wagon to be carried far enough away to keep it from catching fire. It was slow, painstaking work.
Meanwhile, Sheriff Thompson set the men with shovels to tossing dirt on the nearest flames. The fire seemed to jump from one dry tree to another at a record pace, with flames and billowing black smoke shooting high in the air. Even so, the men tied scarves over their mouths and entered the forest. Not long after, the intense heat began to scorch their skin, pushing them back.
As soon as one man pulled back, another tried his hand at it, but the smoke was overwhelming and there was little any of them could truly do. Worse still, the roar of the fire was equal to a dozen freight trains and it caused its own wind, spreading the fire even farther and faster.
Hour after hour, the men did their best.
Each time the MacGreagor brothers retreated and walked back to Josh Taylor’s farmhouse, more injured men were there, crying out and seeking help from a totally unprepared Doc Parker. Some of the women did what they could to help the doctor, while others arrived with sandwiches. Few felt like eating. Most of the men were happy just to sit a spell and pour what they didn’t drink over their heads to relieve themselves of the heat.
Marblestone Mansion, Book 3 Page 18