Grotesque black billows defiled the air, making breathing difficult and seeing nearly impossible. Samantha covered her mouth and nose, trying to filter the air with her fingers as she hurried around the perimeter of the fire.
When she spotted Jake, her heart raced with relief. He was covered with soot, his face heat-singed, and he was coughing between gasping breaths. But he kept up a rhythmic slapping of the flames with a cinder-burned blanket.
He didn’t notice her until Samantha grabbed his arm.
“Other... blankets?” She managed to wheeze out the question when he jerked around toward her.
“Get... out... of... here!” His words were muffled by the piece of shirt he’d torn off and tied around his lower face. But his eyes, when they flashed toward her, demanded compliance.
Compliance he wasn’t going to get from her. Grabbing a handful of skirt, Samantha yanked, then wrapped the rent fabric around her mouth and nose. “The blankets,” she bellowed after again clutching his arm. “Where are they?”
Jake glared at her then jerked his hand toward the edge of the field. At first Samantha thought it was just another command to leave but when she glanced around she could make out a crumpled pile of wool near a tangle of weeds. Whirling around she seized the gray wool and soon she was by Jake’s side slapping at the orange flames.
Her lungs burned and her back ached savagely but Samantha kept going. It was like fighting a battle, she imagined. Going beyond what you ever dreamed you could do. But unfortunately, this enemy seemed to be winning.
Jake dropped his smoldering blanket and ran to the wagon for a shovel he’d tossed in that morning. Now he bent his back to digging, throwing dirt toward the flames, and knocking the next row of corn out of the fire’s path.
Samantha, reading his strategy, threw down her blanket and rushed to clear away the fallen stalks. But still the fire gained on them.
Determined to fight, Samantha bent over a tangled pile of stalks when she felt her feet knocked out from under her. A heavy weight descended, knocking even the oxygen-starved air from her lungs. For one frightening moment as she realized the weight was Jake, Samantha thought he had lost his mind. Then he began slapping at her skirt and she stared down in horror to see her dress smoldering.
Tears rolled down Samantha’s cheeks as she lay on the packed ground. Too tired and discouraged to know if they were from the smoke or her own disheartened spirit, she let them flow.
“You... all right?” Jake’s words snapped Samantha out of her lethargy and she scrambled to her feet, ignoring his hand. What would happen if they lost the crop from this field? She didn’t want to think about the answer to that.
“It’s no use.” Jake pulled at her arm.
“But we can’t just—”
“This field’s gone. We can try to save the—” Jake stopped and squinted through red-rimmed eyes toward the sky.
“What?” Samantha looked up. A fat raindrop splattered on her face, cooling her cheek. She gasped, taking the next one in her mouth. Jake’s expression told her he felt it too.
“It’s raining,” she whispered, almost afraid to say it too loud. If the storm gods heard, they might stop even the hope of a miracle. But today the spirits seemed generous, for before Samantha could wonder if the occasional drops would have an effect on the fire, the heavens opened up, pouring torrents of rain on the blaze.
Lightning streaked across the sky, giving the whole scene a surreal aspect. Samantha looked out across the field and watched the once hungry flames sizzle and die.
She glanced toward Jake. He glanced toward her. And grins broke simultaneously across their wet, soot-streaked faces. Samantha was in his arms before she realized either of them had moved. Jake wrapped himself around her, lifting her high and swinging her around. Samantha’s tattered skirt clung to her legs, plastered there by the drenching rain. Her arms flew around Jake’s neck and Samantha threw back her head and laughed.
Then Jake started laughing and twirled her again and Samantha wondered when she’d ever been so happy.
“It’s raining,” she sang out. “We needed a miracle and we got it.”
Jake had pretty much given up on miracles. But with Samantha saying it, with her blackened face dripping wet and streaked, and still so beautiful it took his breath away, he wondered. He liked her to be happy.
Samantha kissed him. At first when she bent her head down to brush his mouth with hers, she meant it as a shared celebration. But as soon as their lips met, they both knew it was much more.
They pulled back and stared, their breath mingling for only a moment before Jake let her slide slowly down his body. Their rain-soaked clothes felt slick, and sensual, as she rubbed against him.
And then they were kissing again. No light tentative kiss, but something deep and hungry and as satisfying as the rain smothering the remaining smoldering cinders.
“God, Samantha, I want you.” Jake dug his fingers into Samantha’s sopping hair. He gave her no chance to answer before crushing her lips again.
And she wanted him. Samantha molded herself to him as the rain sizzled around them. Though her mind rebelled, Samantha forced herself to keep a modicum of reality. “What about Will?”
“Will?” Jake clamped his hands on Samantha’s shoulder, peeling her away from his body. “Where is he?”
“Why he’s...” Samantha glanced around, seeing the fire-ravaged patch of field; the tall stalks that hadn’t been touched. But there was no sign of her brother. “I thought he was with you.” Samantha watched Jake shake his head and a sinking feeling began in the pit of her stomach. “But he has to be. He wasn’t by the creek.” Her voice took on a frantic edge. “There’s no way he could miss this fire and I know he’d come to help.”
She explained this to Jake as he jogged to the edge of the burned-out area. He cupped his hands and yelled her brother’s name into the storm.
“What?” Samantha ran to him across the spongy ground. She scrubbed the wet hair out of her face. “What do you think happened to him?”
“I don’t know.” Jake yelled again for Will. “Go back to the house.” He turned toward Samantha. “Check the cabin and the barn.”
“But I...”
“Just do it, Samantha. And the creek, too. Maybe he...” Jake shook his head. There was no explanation as to where Will was—least no good one. “Go on now.” Jake touched her cheek because he saw in her eyes that she was just as worried as he. And because it made him feel better. “I’ll look around here.”
Samantha hesitated only a moment before heading off toward the cabin on a run. Panic made her heart beat crazily. Where could Will be? She tried not to think about where Jake was looking.
“Will! Will!” The steady sheets of rain muffled her screams.
The cabin was empty. Samantha rushed through, knocking over a chair without even noticing. Water streamed off her clothes as she climbed to the loft.
The barn was empty except for the cow, who looked up lazily as Samantha threw open the door.
By the time she plodded through the muddy bank by the creek, found nothing, and made her way back to the cornfield, Samantha was frantic. She couldn’t lose Will. She just couldn’t!
The rain had slowed, a sad, cold drizzle that spoke of loneliness and despair. She pushed that thought away and called out to Jake.
“He’s not back... I didn’t find him.”
“Me neither.” Jake stopped his systematic search through the corn rows and studied Samantha. She looked as if there wasn’t much holding her together but she didn’t hesitate to come over to him.
Straightening her shoulders, she asked, “Where have you looked so I don’t waste time repeating.”
Jake hesitated. “Back that way,” he finally said, nodding back over his shoulder. He’d searched through the charred debris from the fire, looking for any sign that the blaze had destroyed more than corn. “No sign of him,” he added.
Samantha swallowed down the bitter taste of fear and nodded. J
ake seemed to think the cornfield was the place to look, and thank heaven he hadn’t found Will’s body in the burned rubble.
“Any chance he could have gone into town or to a neighbor’s,” Jake called across to the other end of the row that Samantha was searching.
“I don’t think so.” Samantha straightened and rubbed the small of her back. The rain had stopped but she hadn’t noticed until now. “He’d more than likely take a horse to town. And they were in the paddock. And even if he did decide to go visiting, he wouldn’t do it so close to supper-time. You know how he is about—“Oh, no,” she cried. “Oh, no!”
“What is it?” Jake raced along the row, batting at the sharp edged corn leaves that drooped into his path.
“Will’s hat.” Samantha held up a muddy, broad-brimmed straw hat for Jake to see, then clutched it to her chest. “It’s Will’s hat and he wore it this morning when he left. I know. I saw him put it on.” Samantha’s eyes were filled with tears when she lifted them to Jake.
“This doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” he cautioned, though he started beating through the corn stalks close to where she’d found the hat. After a moment, Samantha joined him.
But though they covered the area thoroughly, there was no sign of Will.
“This is close to where we finished up working today,” Jake finally said. “Maybe he dropped his hat this afternoon.”
“Maybe,” Samantha acknowledged, but she didn’t stop looking.
Twilight was making it harder to see in the shadow of the tall cornstalks. Jake figured they had perhaps another half-hour of light before it became impossible to see. But though he renewed his efforts, they found no other clue to Will’s whereabouts.
“We need lanterns,” Jake finally said, when he could barely see his hand in front of him.
“You go get them, I’ll keep looking,” came a voice to his left.
Jake rubbed his jaw, then arched his back. “Come on,” he said, moving toward the sound of her rustling through the stalks. “You need to go back to the cabin and get some dry clothes. You’re going to get sick out here in this cold.” As the sun set, the air had taken on a decided chill.
“I’m fine. You go back if you want. I’m going to keep looking.”
Jake grabbed Samantha’s arm, pulling her against him so he could see her face. “Listen. We’re going to keep looking for him. But we won’t do him any good thrashing around in the dark, and making ourselves sick.”
What he said made perfect sense, but something in Samantha couldn’t accept it. “I can’t stop,” she said, her face turned up toward his. “I can’t.”
“Samantha.” Jake wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, trying to give her some of his warmth. “We’ll find him, honey.”
“Oh, Jake, I’m so scared.” Samantha sobbed the words into Jake’s damp shirt. “If something’s happened to Will, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“Shhh.” Jake’s fingers caught in her tangled hair. “You’ll be able to keep up the search better—we both will—after some hot coffee.”
Jake turned, keeping his arm around Samantha’s shoulder, and when he did, his boot knocked against something hard. Reaching down and feeling for the obstacle he discovered a boot.
“What is it?”
Jake let go of Samantha and pushed aside cornstalks. “There’s somebody here.”
“Will?” Samantha knelt down in the soggy field.
“I can’t tell.” Jake worked his way up to the head. “Yeah, it’s Will,” he said as he leaned over to listen to his chest. He touched something wet and sticky, with an all too familiar smell.
“Is he...” Samantha rustled through the stalks till she knelt across from Jake.
“He’s alive,” Jake answered and could feel her relief.
“Oh, Will.” Samantha leaned over him, her hand tracing his cheek with its soft peach fuzz whiskers. “What’s wrong with him? He feels so cold.”
“I don’t know.” Jake scooped down under the boy and lifted him high against his chest. “We need to get him into town. To a doctor.”
“No!”
Jake stopped tramping through the field and glanced back at Samantha even though he could make out nothing but a shadowy form. “Samantha, he’s unconscious and Lord knows what’s wrong with him. He needs a doctor and I intend to see he gets one.” He started off again. “Run ahead and pull the wagon as close as you can.”
Samantha surged to Jake’s side. “I don’t want to take him to Doc Shelton.”
“Well, if he’s the only doctor in town, he’ll have to do.”
“There’s you.” Samantha heard Jake’s sharp pull of breath and rushed ahead before he could say anything. “I know you’re a doctor and I want you to help Will.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Don’t I?” Samantha dogged Jake’s heels as he pushed forward, out of the cornfield, carrying Will. “I heard you rambling when you were feverish. I know you’re a doctor.”
“Was, Samantha. I was a doctor. But I gave that up at Appomattox Court House.” He’d reached the wagon and settled Will onto a pile of corn cobs. Samantha climbed in after him. After pulling off his shirt, Jake balled it up and pressed it against the side of Will’s head. “Hold this,” Jake told Samantha. Looks like he’s cut and it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
“I don’t want to argue with you.” Samantha brushed wet hair from Will’s face. “But we’re not taking my brother into town. If Doc Shelton isn’t drunk, he’s well on his way, and I won’t have him butchering up Will. If you won’t do it, I’ll just have to take care of him myself.” The sob at the end of her speech was annoying but Samantha didn’t care. She said what she thought, and if the Rebel didn’t like it, that was too bad.
“Oh, hell!” Jake jerked himself into the wagon seat. “Hold him steady.” With a slap of the reins, Jake turned the wagon, heading it toward the cabin.
No sooner had Jake pulled the mules to a halt than he jumped off the seat and climbed into the back, scattering corn into the mud. Samantha moved away so Jake could lift her brother. “Light as many candles and lanterns as you have,” he ordered as he carried Will through the door.
Samantha yanked back the quilt on her bed and then hurried about the cabin, doing as Jake asked. By the time she returned to her bedroom, a lamp in one hand, candles in the other, Jake was stripping Will out of his clothes.
“What happened to him?” She held the lamp over Jake’s shoulder.
“I’m not sure.”
Jake knew the exact moment Samantha saw the extent of her brother’s injuries. At the sound of her gasp, Jake glanced toward her. She appeared so fragile and vulnerable, he had the strongest desire to hold her and assure her Will would be all right. But he didn’t have the time—or the confidence—to tell her that.
“I’m going to need water... hot water. And something to use as bandages. And more light,” he added as she rushed out of the door. He’d operated plenty of times in worse conditions than this, but whatever he could do to tip the odds in Will’s favor, he would. Besides, the next best thing to holding Samantha was to keep her busy and out of the room.
“The water’s heating.” She was back in the bedroom within minutes, carrying a pile of linens and two additional candles. Jake turned from examining the bump on Will’s head.
“Good. Now if you’d just—”
“I’m staying right here,” Samantha responded as she set another candle aglow. “I can help.”
Jake’s eyes met hers. Though he could tell it took all her control to keep from breaking down, she held his gaze. “All right, stay.”
As it turned out, Jake brought in water from the kitchen while Samantha tore linens for bandages.
“There’s so much blood.” Samantha tried to keep her voice steady.
Jake gently wiped the side of Will’s face. “I think it looks worse than it is. He has some cuts, but this is the only bad one.” Jake pressed a bandage to the side of Wil
l’s head, beneath a goose-egg-size knot, then motioned for Samantha to hold it. “I’ll need to stitch that up.”
As he spoke, Jake trailed his hands down Will’s ribs. “There are plenty of bruises but everything feels like it’s fine inside.”
“What do you think caused this?”
Jake shook his head. “Something hard and sharp hit his head. And his leg... in several places.” It looked to Jake as if he’d been trampled by a horse, but he didn’t say that to Samantha. He just continued his examination. He worked quickly and efficiently and Samantha tried not to think. Tried not to worry about anything beyond the skillful movement of Jake’s fingers.
“His right leg’s broken.” Jake looked up when Will moaned. For the first time since the war, Jake wished he’d brought his medical supplies with him. He’d left them packed away in Richmond, vowing he’d never use them again.
But he’d have used them in a minute if they’d been here.
After Jake cleaned away the blood from Will’s leg he caught Samantha’s eye. “Stay with him.”
“Where are you going?” Samantha twisted to watch Jake as he headed for the door.
“I need to find something to use as splints.”
When Jake returned, he carried two shakes. Sitting down, he used a knife to whittle them to fit around Will’s lower leg. “There’s some horsehair boiling on the stove. Can you get it for me? And bring in your sewing basket too,” Jake called over his shoulder.
“What are you going to do?” Samantha set the things he’d asked for on the bedside table.
“Stitch up this cut on his shin first.” Jake threaded the softened horsehair through a needle. “Then I’ll set his leg.” His eyes met hers. “I’m going to need your help.”
Will was showing signs of waking up and Jake told Samantha how to keep him still while he worked. She put her weight into holding her brother down, all the while biting her bottom lip to keep from bursting into tears. By the time Jake had finished stitching the cut on his leg, Will had passed out again.
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