That was when he noticed that Four was favoring his front foot.
“What’s the matter, boy?” Ethan asked as he lifted the horse’s hoof to rest on his slightly bent knee. He clawed the compacted dirt and straw out with his hand. “I don’t see anything but then it’s so damned dark in here….”
There was a lantern hanging on one of the two uprights that supported the roof. He lit the wick, scraped a bare spot on the floor with his foot, and put it down. Now, examining Four’s foot again, he could see there was a small stone wedged tight under the horse’s hoof.
“That musta made things sore, huh, boy?”
He used his pocketknife to carefully pry the stone free. “That’s better, isn’t it, fella?”
He checked for damage. Bringing the lantern closer everything looked fine, as best he could tell. When he released the animal’s hoof, Four stood on it squarely. That was a good sign.
“You’ll be fine now, boy.” Ethan gave the horse an affectionate rub on his neck. Just then light flashed bright and sudden, illuminating everything and disappearing. Four shied at the sight, as did the other horses.
“It’s only lightning, not cannon fire,” Ethan told his horse. “You know the difference.” Four settled down as if he really had understood.
Ethan walked over to the doorway of the barn and leaned one shoulder against the frame. He watched the sky as another bolt of lightning zigzagged its way to earth in the distance. He liked storms. He liked the power and yes, the wildness of it all. He was still staring up at the sky when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move.
Glancing around, he spotted her, the woman, outside, struggling to close the cabin door.
“What the hell?” he muttered, thinking she might be sicker. That possibility sent him running for the little cabin which stood like a fierce citadel against the storm that soon would engulf it and the woman.
“What’s wrong? What are you doing out?” he shouted as he closed on her but his words were evidently drowned out by a clap of thunder as loud and fierce as a war drum. White-edged clouds rolled and tumbled against each other as they moved east, blocking out the last bit of sunlight.
Ethan came to a halt beside her and grabbed for the doorknob she was holding on to so tightly. “Are you sicker?” His hand covered hers for an instant. Molly pulled free of his touch and clutched her nightgown up close at her throat as though to ward off his nearness.
“Let’s get you inside,” Ethan shouted, and nudged her with his free hand. She obeyed.
He slammed the door and turned and there she was. She stood in the middle of the room looking as pale and scared as anyone he’d ever known. Her blue print nightdress flowed out around her like a tent. It could have been a fancy ball gown—she was that beautiful.
“Where’s Katie?” Molly shoved the wild length of her hair back from her face.
“Katie?” he mumbled, trying to get his mind to focus. Ten feet away and he could still see that she was shaking. She oughta be in bed and he—his body—stirred. Never mind that, he commanded himself. “Isn’t she with you?” He scanned the cabin. No luck.
Molly held up his note in her fist. “You said she was with you!” Her blue eyes sparked with anger.
“She was with me!” He snatched off his hat and ran his hand through his hair in an agitated gesture. “She took off after we got back.” He slapped his hat back on his head.
“You’re supposed to be watching her!” Another cough. Clutching her chest, she bent over, obviously giving in to her illness. He refrained from helping her or even offering to help. The woman was so damned stubborn.
His temper was up a bit when he snapped back, “I am watching her, dammit. Hell, do you expect me to follow the kid around like some bloodhound?” About that time Molly coughed again and swayed, and he had to help her to sit down before she fell down.
“For God’s sake, woman, go back to bed. I’ll find her.”
“She’s afraid of storms, of lightning!” Another flash of white light lit up the inside of the room. The boom of thunder was close behind and that meant so was the storm. He realized by her sudden shake that Katie wasn’t the only one who didn’t like storms.
“Don’t worry. She’s around here somewhere. I’ll find her.” With that he walked out and slammed the door.
For a full minute, Molly sat there, staring at the closed door, hugging herself from cold, but mostly from fear as the thunder hammered overhead.
Katie was out there. Alone!
Her daughter was alone.
Any fear she had was outweighed by that one thought. No way was she sitting here. Barefoot, Molly ran to the door and yanked it open, the glass knob cold in her hand. The sky had turned gunmetal dark. The wind swirled in the tops of the cottonwood trees and cut through the flannel of her nightgown to chill her body beneath. She didn’t care. Her child was missing. Nothing else in this life mattered.
Ethan was nowhere to be seen but she heard his voice calling Katie’s name. She was thankful for him once again no matter what she’d said.
The wind came in wild, tree-bending gusts and it took both hands for her to pull the door closed. Her nightgown molded to her body and her hair streamed out along her shoulders.
“Katie!” she yelled as loud as her aching throat would let her. “Katie! Where are you?” Instinct sent her toward the barn, the earth hard and cool against her bare feet. A shiver skipped across her body and she knew it was from stark terror, not her illness.
Another bolt of lightning speared the earth, this time close but blessedly not too close. A loud bang of thunder followed. Molly saw the wagon by the barn doorway, heard the horses neighing in their own protest of the approaching storm.
She paused outside and craned her head up to the loft opening. The kittens were there and Katie loved those kittens. “Katie! Answer me!”
No answer, but, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ethan loping in her direction. His mustache made his frown look even more serious. That meant he hadn’t found Katie. Her heart sank. She’d been hoping like crazy that he’d come waltzing in with Katie in tow. She wouldn’t even have minded an “I told you so.”
As he approached, wind tugged at his shirt and jeans and he had to hold on to his hat to keep it from blowing away.
“I thought you were going back to bed.”
“Not while Katie’s missing!”
A small, shrill scream carried on the wind, and both Molly and Ethan turned at the same time. Black smoke boiled out of the doorway of the loft and there, silhouetted in the hay-stacked loft opening, was Katie.
Everything else forgotten, they both rushed the last few yards to the barn.
“Mama!” Katie called, waving a hand in front of her face in an obvious effort to clear the smoke away. “Mama, there’s a fire. I can’t get down.”
Molly’s hand flew to her chest. “Oh, my Lord, Katie.”
Ethan stared at the barn. Fire. His brain kept repeating the word. But how? There’d been no lightning strikes here. Another thought flashed in his mind but was quickly gone. It didn’t matter. The barn was on fire and Katie was trapped, in danger of dying. No. Not dying—not if he had anything to do with it.
“Mama, help me. I’m afraid!”
Molly made a dash for the doorway.
Ethan grabbed her arm and brought her up short. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“In there,” she snapped, yanking free of his grasp.
“Oh, no you’re not.”
“Oh, yes—”
“I am. You stay here.” No way was he letting her go in there. He’d lose them both, and that was something he couldn’t think about.
So instead, he pulled off his bandanna, ran to the horse trough and dipped it in water, then tied it masklike around his face. He shoved his hat in Molly’s hand as he went past. “Whatever happens, don’t move,” he instructed. At least he knew one of them was safe.
He gulped in one deep breath of clean air before he plunged i
nto the smoke-filled structure.
It was as though he’d stepped into a pitch-black room. He couldn’t see his hand in front of his face the smoke was so thick. The floor felt hot on his boots and ankles. He knew that small flames were devouring the thin covering of straw and about to do the same to him.
“You’ll be fine, honey,” he heard Molly’s voice calling to her daughter. “Ethan is coming for you.”
Soot filled his eyes. Blinking and wiping were no help. Okay, the ladder to the loft was on his left. Moving carefully, hands out, he inched along. He could see flames licking up the front side of the barn. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. A little farther and he should be at the ladder. But the smoke got thicker than day-old coffee and breathing was more than an effort, it was impossible. His throat closed as though he were strangling.
He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe.
“Dammit to hell.”
Reluctantly, he staggered out of the barn and fell to his knees while he struggled to catch his breath.
Molly was instantly there beside him, kneeling in the dirt. “Katie? Did you see Katie?”
Ethan shook his head. He was busy trying to wipe the soot out of his eyes with his bandanna.
When he looked up from the cloth he looked straight into her eyes, blue, tear-filled eyes. Eyes that were trouble any way he sliced it.
“Are you all right?” she asked quietly, taking the bandana from his hand and wiping his face for him.
It felt good having someone fuss after him. He forced the barest trace of a smile. “I’m okay but it’s bad in there.”
Ethan got to his feet and helped Molly up. He gave her hand an extra squeeze as if to say, “Don’t give up yet.”
“Mama!” Katie called again from her place in the loft opening, and Molly’s gaze was immediately fixed on the child.
“Stay there, honey,” Molly told her slipping her hand free of his. “It’ll be just a minute and we’ll have you out.”
She looked at him a long moment, her eyes searching his face as though to make him understand something she couldn’t say. Wordlessly, she started past him again. This time it was his words that stopped her.
Ethan understood and yet he couldn’t let her give up her own life and probably lose the little girl, as well. “Don’t even try it.” He coughed. “The smoke is so thick you couldn’t find an elephant in there.”
“I have to,” she said in a tone that was eerily quiet.
Looking at her, his gut clenched. “Molly. Please don’t do this. Give me another chance.”
She was shaking her head. “Don’t worry, Katie. I’m coming.”
“Please,” he said. “Please. Let me go around. I need a tool, a rope, something to use so I can reach her.”
Molly glanced up at Katie still in the loft opening. Still safe. But for how much longer?
Struggling to breathe, he ran full out to the back of the barn and came face-to-face with a solid wall. Where the hell were the goddamn doors?
“Stupid! Stupid!” he cursed himself six ways to Sunday. He had known there was no door back here. That son of a bitch husband of hers had taken the easy way out…and the cheap way. Now it was liable to cost his daughter’s life.
Ethan kicked at the boards and pried at them until his fingertips were bloody. Hardly a budge. He could hear Katie’s voice calling to her mother and though he couldn’t hear the words, he didn’t have to.
Do something.
Do something!
He scoured the area and found a broken axe head with a portion of the splintered handle still in place. He rushed back to the barn and using the chipped edge of the blade he managed to get one board loose. Soon he had six free.
Smoke poured out of the opening like water out of a damn. Forgetting to use his handkerchief, Ethan plunged in. He freed the horses and sent them out through the opening. He tossed his gear out then he searched around for the rope he’d seen earlier.
His hand found it before his eyes could see.
“Ouch! Son of a bitch!” He jerked his hand away.
The rope was on fire. Okay, there was nothing for it but to find another way and he didn’t have much time. That was when he spotted the lantern or the dimmest outline of it. He knew. It hadn’t been lightning that had started this fire. It had been him. Ethan Wilder. He cursed himself every way he knew and he knew a lot.
Stupid! Stupid!
Now a kid’s life was at stake.
Wilder, you better make this come out right or die trying.
Inching along, he worked his way to the front of the barn. This time he found the ladder. It was on fire. Still he stepped on the lowest rung on the off chance it hadn’t burned through yet.
It had. The wood gave way with a sharp crack.
Smoke filtered into his lungs with every breath. “Katie?” he called.
“Yes.”
He heard her high, frightened voice but didn’t see her.
“Stay over near the opening, okay?” He coughed. “Don’t try to come down the ladder.”
“But I’m scared, Mr. Ethan.”
“I know, but it’ll be all right.” He hoped like hell he wasn’t lying.
Carefully, he retraced his steps until he cleared the barn.
Molly rushed to him, grabbing his arm. “Are you all right? Katie?”
Ethan bent over, his hands braced on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “She…” He coughed. Slowly, he straightened. He said the words she most didn’t want to hear. “I couldn’t get to her.”
Molly’s eyes were frantic. Her color winter white. For what seemed like the longest minute in the world she just stared at him. Her eyes searched his face as though she wanted him to say this was all a joke, a bad dream. He couldn’t.
Then she made a bolt for the barn and once more he stopped her. This time she fought back. She kicked and punched and clawed the side of his face.
“Let me go! My daughter’s in there! Let me go!”
Her eyes filled with tears and Ethan pulled her into his embrace for just a second, just a heartbeat. Then he grabbed her by the shoulders and held her slightly away from him.
“We’ll get her out,” he said fiercely, head lowered so that he looked at her eye to eye. “We’ll get her out.”
Overhead, lightning and thunder competed for ownership of the sky.
He had one last idea. He leapt into the wagon. The wood creaked as his boots made a loud thud. Lightning sizzled overhead. The hair on his arms prickled with electricity. His heart raced in his chest, but not from the storm, from dread.
“All right, Katie,” he said, trying to mimic Molly’s calm tone. “I’m here. You’re fine.”
“Mama! Mama!” was the kid’s only reply.
“Don’t look at her!” Ethan demanded, muscles tensing in his back and arms. “Look at me!” It was an order, sharply given.
Slowly she complied, as though seeing him for the first time. “Help me, Mr. Ethan,” she cried, and he could see where the tears had smudged the soot on her face.
The wind picked up. The flames were now clearly visible. Orange-and-red flames dancing to their own unique tune, closer, closer to their prey. The scent of burning wood and hay was pungent in the air. The sky was nearly black. Clouds rolled and tumbled and slammed together with a force that produced more lightning.
Feet braced, the wind whipping at his shirt and hat, Ethan shouted up to the child. “I want you to jump.”
Katie stopped stock-still and looked down at him as if he’d spoken in a foreign tongue.
“Come on, Katie.” He held out his arms. “You remember how good I caught you when you jumped off the wagon.”
There was a slight nod.
Molly was right behind him on the ground. “What are you doing? You can’t—”
He spared her a glance. “I’d better. It’s the only chance she’s got.”
“I’m afraid, Mr. Ethan.”
Flames were getting dangerously close to her, licking at the top
of the door frame.
“Jump, sweetie,” Molly encouraged. “You know how you love to slide and pretend to fly. This’ll be like flying.”
That seemed to intrigue her and she inched closer to the edge looking down. “Okay,” she said in a less than enthusiastic voice.
Ethan held out his arms.
She closed her eyes but didn’t move. Then she did something Ethan hadn’t counted on. She disappeared back inside the burning barn.
“Katie!” Molly and Ethan screamed at the same time.
Just as suddenly as she’d gone, Katie appeared at the opening, this time with her skirt pulled up in front of her. The wind swirled and twisted through the barn, making the smoke billow out the front until Katie almost disappeared from view.
Then, miracle of miracles, the kid moved closer to the edge. He’d say a prayer tonight!
Head and neck craned back, feet braced, he was ready to move in either direction. He couldn’t miss her. He wouldn’t.
“Now, Katie,” Molly hollered, and Ethan could hear the strain in her voice, from the cold and from sheer terror.
Small flames scampered around the edge of the opening. As they fed on the wood, the flames would become bigger and bigger until the opening would be blocked.
Suddenly a bolt of lightning slammed into one of the cottonwood trees near the creek. The tree split and fell apart, one half falling into the stream and the other side crashing home on the bank.
Katie’s eyes flew open and she jumped.
“Ohhh!” she screamed as she sailed toward Ethan.
A couple of long desperate steps and he was able to catch her. The impact sent him sprawling on the wagon floor. Lord knows how, but he managed to keep Katie balanced on top of him.
“Katie, sweetie,” Molly called over the edge of the wagon. Her hand reached out for her daughter and the grin on her face was like a kid’s on Christmas morning.
Ethan breathed a very deep sigh of relief when something sharp, like a couple of dozen straight pins, penetrated his shirt and dug into the skin across his stomach.
“What the hell?” he muttered and as he lifted Katie to her feet he saw that he was looking straight into the eyes of a cat, a teeth-baring, claws full out, take-no-prisoners mother cat and all her kittens.
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