Marblestone Mansion, Book 3

by Marti Talbott

  And still the fire grew.

  During yet another attempt to enter the forest and fight the fire, Mr. Goodwin joined Hannish and Cameron. Bandannas wrapped around their heads did little to keep the sweat out of their eyes as each worked feverishly to toss shovels full of dirt on the flames.

  He was about to retreat again when Cameron saw Mr. Goodwin drop his shovel and fall to his knees. The banker pulled his kerchief off, opened his mouth and screamed, but the roar of fire swallowed up the sound. Cameron grabbed his brother’s arm, handed his shovel to Hannish and pointed toward town. He pulled Mr. Goodwin up, leaned down, grabbed his legs, put the banker over his shoulder, and then followed his brother out of the inferno. Cameron carried Mr. Goodwin across the scraped land to the farmhouse, where Doc Parker was dressing burns, gently set him down on the end of a wagon and looked at his face. “Dinna touch it, you are burned,” he said.

  “I cannot see,” the banker muttered. Then he raised his voice. “Doc? Where are you doc? I cannot see!”

  As soon as the doctor came, Cameron slowly backed away and went to check on his brother. He found Hannish and Alistair sitting in the dirt, far enough away from the fire to feel the cooler night air. “Are either of you hurt?” he asked. He was relieved when both shook their heads. Cameron tried to wipe the sweat off his face with his hands, but only succeeded in smearing it with soot. “Mr. Goodwin is blind.”

  Hannish waited until his brother sat, handed him a jug of water and watched him drink. Then he bowed his head for a moment. “Tis no use, we cannae stop it.”

  “We cannae let it burn, either,” said Cameron. He dumped what was left of the water on his head and let it run down his neck into his shirt. When one of the town’s women brought three more milk bottles full of water, he nodded his appreciation. “Your face is burned, brother,” he said.

  “You think yours is not?” Hannish asked. Just then, Shepard, Stockton and Keith came to join them.

  “The mayor says the army is coming,” Keith announced.

  “Thank the Lord,” Alistair muttered.

  *

  The next time Cameron retreated from the fire and checked on Mr. Goodwin, Mrs. Goodwin and McKenna were there tending to him. Seeing McKenna reminded him of Nicholas, so he looked for his brother-in-law as well and spotted him talking to the Mayor. Cameron was relieved. A few minutes later, he watched as Mr. Goodwin was put in a carriage and taken away. Strips of clean cloth were wrapped around Mr. Goodwin’s head to cover his eyes, and it appeared there was little more anyone could do to help him.

  *

  In the blue-black just before dawn, a long line of wagons finally began to arrive. Most were loaded with men, but others held much needed supplies such as blankets the men could soak in the creeks and cover themselves with, if they needed to run through the fire.

  “The army,” Claymore muttered. “Sleep now, my MacGreagors. The army has come.” He handed blankets out to the men gathered near the farmhouse, and then lay down next to Hannish. “Terrible business, these fires.”

  “Aye.” Hannish barely had enough strength left to utter it before he fell fast asleep.

  *

  For the next two days, hundreds of men worked to contain the fire. Wagons continually arrived with freshly filled water bottles, and more women came to help Doc Parker bandage burns and wash smoke out of eyes. The band of inexperienced firefighters slept where they could and ate to keep up their strength, even though everything tasted like smoke. Claymore brought food, washed bottles with clean water, and word that the MacGreagor and Whitfield women were worried, but holding up and happy to hear their men were all accounted for.

  There were reports that trees had fallen on men, which served to caution the exhausted men to be more careful. At last, the wind shifted and began to blow in the opposite direction, which implied the fire would run out of fuel. Everyone was hopeful. On the eastern horizon, clouds began to appear and by late afternoon of the third day, the air cooled, rain fell from heaven, the fire dwindled and the men finally managed to put it out.

  *

  The women of Marblestone Mansion had never known such anxiety. Phone calls to town were not only impossible; the operator wouldn’t put any through. Therefore, Leesil did something she knew she shouldn’t. She sat in Hannish’s chair in his study, and listened in on the party line. Most of those allowed to talk to the Mayor didn’t have much solid information, but she did hear about the banker and about Cameron carrying him out of the fire. Still the lack of information about Marblestone’s men was enough to drive all of them daft.

  Cathleen tried to keep Blair busy in the upstairs sitting room, but more often than not, she went to the window to watch for Cameron. She was relieved when it was time to put the children to bed, and soon she was back at the window watching again. The smoke stopped billowing a few hours earlier and she, like the other women, became more anxious by the minute. Why hadn’t they come home?

  At last, the team of horses brought all their men home, safe and sound. Any other time, the sight of them with red skin above where their kerchiefs shielded their mouths and white below, would have been laughable, but no one thought it was funny. The men were so tired, the women were needed to help them into the house.

  Cameron’s face was smudged and his eyes were red when Cathleen put his arm over her shoulders. “Are you burned?”

  “Not badly. ‘Tis more like a sunburn. How is Blair?”

  “She is fine. They say you are a hero for saving Mr. Goodwin, but you have always been a hero to me. Come inside, you need a warm bath and plenty of rest.”

  “A cold bath would be better and I will likely sleep for a week.” Just outside the front door, he stopped. Slowly, he reached in his pocket, pulled out her precious blue ribbon and gave it back to her. “‘Tis a very lucky ribbon.”

  *

  By the time all the baths were taken, the smoky clothing thrown away and the men put to bed, the women were just as exhausted as they were. Even so, Cathleen couldn’t sleep. Late in the night, she put on her dressing robe and slipped into Cameron’s room to check on him.

  For a long moment, she stood by his bed, looked at his burned face and tried to think of something more she could do to help him. Even some of his hair was singed. In the end, she guessed sleep was the best medicine. Yet when she started to leave, she heard him whisper, “Dinna go.”

  “You are awake?” she asked, turning back.

  “I am a MacGreagor. We are taught to know when someone is near, even in our sleep.”

  “Then I am sorry I woke you.”

  “I cannae sleep peacefully anyway.”

  “Nor can I.” Cathleen moved a chair next to his bed and sat down. “What can I do to ease your pain?”

  “A cold cloth on the back of my hand felt very good last night. That hand seems to hurt the most.”

  She went to the washbowl, found the cloth still in it, wrung it out and went back to her seat. She put one hand under his and then carefully laid the cold cloth over the back of his scorched hand and fingers. “Are you certain we should not call the doctor?”

  “Let the poor lad rest. He worked just as hard as we did. Have you any word of Mr. Goodwin?”

  “There is no change,” she answered. It seemed so wrong to feel the way she did with her hand in his. It was distracting and it took a moment for her to continue. “Keith called, but I suspect he wanted to let Margaret Ann know he was unharmed.”

  “Wedding bells?”

  “I hope so. I know no other who deserves to be happy more than Margaret Ann.”

  “I do.”

  “Who?”

  “You. What would make you happy, Cathleen?”

  She was well aware of what would make her happy, but she dared not tell him. “Let me see…I have only just learned to ride, therefore a horse of my own would make me happy. And books, lots and lots of books, of course, and…” she hesitated to continue.

  “Go on.”

  “I would like a daughter just
like Blair. She is such a delight and I miss the children at the orphanage so. I would steal Blair from you if I could, but Your Grace, you need her more than me.”

  “I do need her. Should I tell my brother you want a horse?”

  “And spoil his surprise?” She let go of his hand, went back to the washbowl and wet the cloth again. When she returned, he lifted his arm, so she could hold his hand again, and this time, he curled his fingers around hers.

  “Do you know what would make me happy?”

  “What?” she dared ask.

  “Well, Blair needs a mother and I need a wife. I hate living alone.”

  “I am certain you must, but take care, Your Grace, to choose the very best wife.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “She will be a second wife. My sister does not complain, but ‘tis not easy being a second wife, particularly when the first wife will not leave us be.”

  Cameron thought about that for several moments. “You would not want to be a second wife?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out. “‘Tis not an easy question to answer. I know little of love, save what I read in books. It is said love conquers all, but is it true for second wives? Can a lad who suddenly loses his wife forget the love he has for her, and give it instead to his second wife?”

  “My brother loves Leesil far more than he ever loved the duchess.”

  “Aye, but he had time to stop loving the duchess.” She smiled then and took her hand away. “I best let you rest.”

  “Cathleen, how does a lad convince a lass, that he does love her as much as he loved his first wife?”

  She smiled and stood up. “I have not yet read that book, Your Grace.” She put the cloth back in the bowl, opened the door and quietly left.

  *

  For the next two days, the men stayed in bed mostly, resting and healing while the women fussed over them. Abigail appointed herself their guardian and came to check on her MacGreagors often. Keith called each day to report Mr. Goodwin’s progress, but chances that the banker would ever see again were bleak.

  Once the more serious burns were taken care of, Doc Parker went from house to house tending to the less serious injuries. Just as Cameron said, his was little more than a harsh sunburn, but Hannish and most of the other men had faces and forearms that soon began to blister. Doc Parker supplied an ointment he hoped would ease the discomfort, told them to apply cold compresses, and warned them that breaking the blisters would cause more pain and possibly scarring.

  On the third morning, Abigail came again and found Hannish and Cameron sitting in the downstairs sitting room with Leesil and Cathleen.

  She examined Cameron’s face and then gave Hannish a good looking over. “Better, I think.”

  “How are your lads?” Cameron asked.

  “The burn on Bryan’s arm is serious, but healing. Doc Parker gave him something for the pain and promised to come check on him again today. The others look a lot like the two of you.”

  “What news from town, Abigail?” Hannish asked.

  “Well, the railroad sent men in a rail car to clear fallen trees off the tracks and soon the trains will begin to run again. At least then, poor Mr. White will not have to deliver the Denver paper by buggy.”

  “That is good news, I miss reading the paper of a morning,” Leesil said, rocking her son in the rocking chair. Justin’s eyes were beginning to droop and soon, she hoped, he would be fast asleep.

  “The creeks near Millionaire’s Row and the college begin to run clear again, although it will take a while to plow under or wash away the ash along the banks. The mayor claims the next big rain will solve that problem, though it will render the water undrinkable again for a time.” She grinned. “I hear hauling clean water to Millionaire’s Row is making a pretty penny for some of the town folks.”

  “I bet it is,” said Hannish.

  “They found another body today,” Abigail said. Instead of being mournful, she had a bit of a smile on her lips, which piqued everyone’s interest. “You will never guess who it was.”

  “Who?” asked Cathleen.

  “Wesley Bennet?”

  “Are they certain?” Hannish asked.

  “One of his friends is positive. He was found face down and you’ll never guess what he had his arms wrapped around?”

  “What?” everyone asked at the same time.

  “Gold coins,” Abigail smugly answered. “The sheriff says Wesley Bennet was probably part of that gang of train robbers. Of course, some of the coins melted together and the sack burned, so there is no way to be certain where the coins came from.”

  “Wesley Bennet deserved to die,” Cathleen muttered.

  “Who is he?” Cameron asked.

  “The lad who forced Margaret Ann and gave her William,” Leesil answered.

  “I had not heard that,” said Cameron.

  Abigail scoffed. “Well, just everyone in town knows…not that anyone blames poor Margaret Ann. Bennet tried to cut her throat, you know.”

  “I dinna know that either,” said Cameron.

  “Oh, yes, and Hannish nearly killed him for it. Oh well, that is all behind us now,” Abigail said.

  “Shall I go tell Margaret Ann?” Cathleen asked.

  “I suspect she already knows,” Abigail answered. “Keith was about to call her when I left town.”

  “I did hear the phone ring,” Leesil put in.

  “Four dead, so far,” Abigail muttered. “Three from Colorado City, one from Pueblo and they have yet to find Josh Taylor. His wife is certain he is dead, and more sad it is too, for he worked so hard to save his farm and the town.”

  *

  A few days of rest and the upper half of Cameron’s burned face began to turn to a golden tan, although it would be a while before it matched the lower half of his face. Cathleen tried not to spend too much time with him, less everyone suspect how she felt about him, but when she found him sitting alone on the balcony outside the ballroom, she went to be with him anyway.

  “Doc Parker fears Mr. Goodwin will never see again,” Cathleen said.

  Cameron was pleased to see her and started to get up, but she quickly sat in the chair beside him so he wouldn’t have to. “I am sorry to hear that. Mr. Goodwin fought the fire bravely.”

  “As did you all.”

  “Not as bravely as you might think. I was more than ready to run on several occasions.”

  “I doubt any of us are brave in a forest fire.” She looked across the lawn and watched James swing Blair. “Your daughter has stolen James’ heart too. I am forced to beg to get him to push me in the swing, but she need only ask.”

  “Blair needs a big brother and James is very patient with her.”

  Cathleen smiled. “He has had a lot of practice. Hannish would let him stay here too, if he desires it.”

  “I mentioned that to James, but he wants to go back. He likes his position and now that he has seen you, he is more at peace. How we shall miss all of you. I dread going back to that lonely old castle.”

  “Then you simply must stay.”

  “Would that it were possible.”

  “Why is it not?” Cathleen asked.

  “Because ‘tis our home, the home of our ancestors. We cannae abandon it, ‘twould be unthinkable.”

  “I suppose it would. I doubt you shall be too very lonely once Alistair and Sarah arrive.”

  “That will help immensely. Still, this is a much livelier place than where I live in Scotland.”

  “What? Scotland has no forest fires for you to fight?”

  Cameron grinned. “Scotland has fewer forests than it once had, but should we have a fire, I’ll gladly rush out to show them how Americans do it.”

  “We Americans are rather splendid, are we not?”

  He looked directly at her when he said, “Indeed you are.”

  She was not quite certain what that look meant, but it made her feel very warm and wonderful. “I shall miss you, Your Grace. You have been good co
mpany for me. Once you are gone, I shall have to find my delights in books again. ‘Tis either that or become an old spinster like Pearl and Loretta. That is, if they ever recover from being called ‘lovely.’”

  “A grave error on my part.”

  “Aye, the gravest of all errors.”

  “You must write and tell me all about them. It will break my heart if either should marry while I am away.”

  “When are you coming back?”

  “Next year, hopefully.”

  “And will you bring James?” she asked.

  “If he wishes to come? You dinna answer my question. Will you write to me?”

  “Do you promise to write back? You can write, can you not?”

  He playfully frowned. “If I must.”

  “You must, if you wish to hear about Pearl and Loretta.”

  “Then I surely shall. My heart is a flutter already.”

  Cathleen rolled her eyes. “Have you no friends in Scotland?”

  “A good many and I have neglected them. Yet I am a duke and I suppose I must return to my duties. They include such things as boring balls, outrageously expensive dinners and walks with lasses who are more interested in being seen, than in seeing me. I assure you, I know them all and to my way of thinkin’, there is not a lass of quality among them.”

  “And the debutants I have read so much about? Who knows, you might find one or two are just as lovely as Pearl and Loretta, who would marry any sort of disagreeable lad, if he happened to be a duke.”

  “Marry me for money and a title? I am shocked. How shall I know when I am being tricked? Clearly, I need you to protect me.”

  Cathleen laughed. “I suspect you can manage quite well on your own, if you’ve a mind to.” She settled back in her chair and turned her attention to a baldheaded eagle gliding through the air against a backdrop of the picturesque snowcapped mountain. She dreaded the day Cameron would be gone, and just now, she wanted to memorize the feeling of just being near him. “I shall be a year older when you return.”