The Cowboy's Stolen Bride

by Cora Seton

  “Watch out!” Noah cried as flames shot high and the breeze caught a mass of sparks, wafting them over the line of plowed ground toward them.

  “That’s our job—stamp out those sparks,” Tory called. She raced for one, lugging her shovel along, and used it to put out the flames that were just catching hold in the dry pasture. Olivia raced for another as the wind gusted again and more sparks flew their way.

  Tory lunged for another spark, banged the shovel down on it to smother the tiny flames, then had to resort to digging beneath it and pouring dirt on top of it before she could put them out. This was going to be harder than she thought. Soon all she could do was race to keep up with the sparks. The wind was starting more fires than she could reach.

  “Lance is back—Tory, watch yourself!” Olivia called.

  She looked up just in time to leap out of the way of the tractor. Lance had it going as fast as it could and plowed a second line of dirt right next to the first.

  “It’s bad by the outbuildings,” he called out. “They’re all going to go.”

  Then he was past her, heading for the creek again, where he raised the harrow, spun the tractor, set the harrow down again and drove back past them.

  At least the sparks had farther to travel now before they could find something to burn, but as she watched, the wind gusted hard, lifting rafts of sparks from the blaze, sailing them right over the wide-plowed strip.

  “Damn it!” Olivia yelled. They raced to stamp out the new fires. It was like a hellish game of a whack-a-mole, Tory thought as a burning clump of vegetation flew past her on the wind, searing her cheek before she knocked it away.

  She bent to the task of shoveling dirt on the wayward blazes, racing around to catch them all. It seemed like hours before Lance was back again. “Had to do more passes by the outbuildings,” he yelled in explanation. “There’s no one to stamp out the sparks there, and they keep starting new fires.” He looked over his shoulder, swore, raised the harrow and spun the tractor around as fast as he could, then raced back the way he’d come.

  Tory saw why. Near the outbuildings, the fire had jumped the line and was blazing across the bone-dry pasture.

  “Olivia!” she screamed and pointed.

  Her sister raced by, shovel swinging. “Come on.”

  She ran after her. Fire was spreading in all directions on this side of the line. Lance had swung the tractor wide, trying to cut a new swath of land to contain it, but everywhere Tory looked, little fires burned.

  “Hurry!” Olivia shouted, stamping out sparks wherever she found them.

  Tory bent to the task, too, back aching, her face streaming with sweat—or were those tears?

  They weren’t going to be able to stop the fire. There were too few of them. Too many sparks—and a wind that wouldn’t quit.

  All the years she’d spent away from Thorn Hill—and now she was back, she was going to lose it for good.

  It had taken so damn long at the barn to get the harrow attached, the fire had gained a lot of ground by the time Liam got the tractor close to it. No one had cleared away the brush growing around the house in years, and the wind had kicked up the small fires that sparks had started on this side of the creek until they were full-size blazes. Now they were licking the slight rise of ground near the old homestead. Could he clear a firebreak and save the house?

  Liam figured he’d better try.

  He swung the tractor around, dropped the harrow and began to plow a line between the house and the yard leading down to the creek, as close as he could to the fire to try to stop it as far away from the house as possible.

  He heard Noah shouting orders behind him, and a quick glance over his shoulder told him his family—and Enid—were working to put out the little fires started by drifting sparks between the Ridley property and the Flying W.

  He’d need to keep an eye on those. He’d work while he could to save the Ridley house, but if the main body of the fire made any move toward the Flying W, he’d shift his energies there.

  He plowed a strip of earth past the Ridley house and beyond, making a wide arc so as not to leave any place for the fire to get around him and burn from the other side. When he judged he’d gone far enough, he circled around, dropped the harrow again and drove back the way he’d come.

  Now he could see his siblings, mother and Enid racing frantically to put out flames. A gust of wind nearly knocked his hat off his head, and he clamped it down hard with one hand and swore. If only the damn tractor could go faster. But he was going as fast as his equipment and the terrain allowed.

  He swung past his siblings, turned the tractor again and was ready for another pass when Stella cried out and pointed across the creek.

  Before Liam could even make out what was happening, Enid had raced past him, shovel in hand. She leaped the tiny trickle of water in Pittance Creek and kept going.

  Liam saw why.

  “The fire—it’s heading for Thorn Hill!” Maya cried. She raced after Enid.

  “Maya—what are you doing?” Stella called.

  Maya didn’t bother to answer.

  Liam found himself shifting gears to take the tractor down the hill and across the creek.

  “Liam—you can’t,” Stella shouted, coming after him.

  “What about the Ridley house?” his mother called out.

  Liam knew what she was thinking. The value of the Ridley property would go down without its buildings, and she was counting on the sale of the spread to fund her future.

  He had his own future to think about.

  The Flying W could support Mary—and Justin and Liz, too, if necessary. But without Thorn Hill, the Coopers would be lost.

  Tory didn’t think she’d ever been as terrified as when the fire jumped the line Lance had carved in the earth. Without a break to slow it down, the winds whipping the flames sent smoking sparks in all directions. Flames lapped at the dry pasture grasses, and as soon as she stamped out one set of tiny fires, more seemed to start up all around her. Olivia was whirling like a dervish, bringing her shovel down on top of sparks, throwing dirt on top of larger flames and even stamping with her feet at errant embers. Lance had circled behind them again to try to cut another break, but Tory didn’t think he’d be able to do it fast enough.

  “What about the cattle—and the horses?” she cried to Olivia.

  “I don’t know!”

  If the flames got much closer to the house, they’d have to make a run for it down to the pastures on the other side, where thankfully the cattle were positioned today. In a pinch they could set them free and round them up again later.

  She heard another shout, turned and saw Liam breaching the banks of Pittance Creek on his tractor. He joined Lance cutting across the pasture with his disk harrow, trying to cut a wide enough swath to contain the fire.

  “Mom!” Tory yelled when she caught sight of Enid racing toward her. Behind her, Noah was driving his truck, Mary, Stella and Maya in the bed, hanging on for dear life. As soon as he stopped, they all grabbed their shovels and leaped out, joining in the hunt to wipe out the sparks and flames that made it across the ploughed land. With this many helpers, the job became a little easier, but the fire was still moving fast.

  They spread out along the line, each of them taking charge of a section of the pasture. Tory’s arms ached. Her breath rasped in her throat. She would have killed for a drink of water, but there was no time for that. Smoke was thick, but now and then she caught a glimpse of the hedgerow surrounding the pot crop and the ramshackle outbuildings nearby, several of which were already on fire.

  A gust of wind blew the smoke away just as she heard the tinkling crash of glass breaking. The fire must have shattered a window in one of the outbuildings. Tory glanced that way, and for one split second she saw movement—

  Something white waving back and forth. A rag tied to the end of a stick.

  Someone was inside.

  “Olivia!” She raced to where her sister was frantically shoveling dirt
onto a tongue of flames. “There’s someone in there—in one of the buildings!”

  “Where?”

  Tory pointed at the outbuilding, but nothing was visible now.

  “I saw it—I swear to God!”

  Olivia stared at her. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive!”

  “Where the hell are the volunteers?”

  Tory knew what she meant, but there was no time to waste wishing for help when there was no help to be had. She remembered the day she’d stumbled across the pot crop—the feeling she’d had that she was being watched. The movement she’d seen in that same outbuilding.

  Maybe one of the criminals had come back to try to salvage something before it all went up in smoke. If so, the joke was on him—there was nothing left to save.

  Olivia screamed. Pointed. “I see it!” The white rag was visible again out of the broken window.

  Tory came to a decision. Raced for the nearest tractor. “Liam! Liam—stop!”

  He must have heard her over the sound of his engine. He slowed down. Waited for her to catch up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s someone in there!” She pointed again. The rag was just visible, but it wasn’t waving anymore.

  “Hell. You sure?” Liam scanned the distance to the building as the smoke closed in again. Lance pulled up next to him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Tory says someone’s in that shed.” He pointed the same way she had.

  “I can’t see a damn thing. What if it’s the ass who set this fire?” Lance demanded.

  “What if it’s Steel?”

  Lance went pale. “Jesus. If he’s in there, why doesn’t he run?”

  “I don’t know. We don’t have time for this—”

  “We can’t get there from here,” Liam said.

  Tory knew he was right, and panic clawed at her throat. She couldn’t stand here and watch someone die—

  “We could get out to the road. Come in on the other side,” Lance said.

  “That’ll take too long.” Already the fire was consuming several of the other buildings. It was a miracle the one with the broken window hadn’t burned up yet. Liam was still scanning their surroundings. His gaze lit on Noah’s truck at the same time Tory’s did.

  “I know how to get through.” Liam turned off the tractor and began to climb down.

  “This fire is much bigger than the last one,” Tory told him, but she already knew it was the only way.

  “I can make it.”

  “You mean we can make it.”

  She started to run before he could tell her no.

  He had to make Tory see reason. He was willing to risk his life to save Steel, but he wasn’t willing to risk hers.

  Liam raced after her, tractor abandoned, shouting for Stella to take over for him. Tory was already demanding the truck’s keys from Noah.

  “That’s crazy,” Noah said. “You won’t get through.”

  “I’ll get through.” Liam grabbed the keys out of Noah’s hand and ran on, Tory doing her best to keep up.

  “Stay here,” he growled at her when they reached the vehicle, but she yanked the door open, climbed in and buckled up.

  “Just drive!”

  There was nothing for it. If they sat here arguing, whoever had waved that rag would die.

  Liam started the engine, gauged the shortest route through the flames to the outbuilding, swung wide around the other women still stamping out the sparks on this side of the fire break and got the nose of the truck pointed the right way.

  “Ready for this?”

  “I’m ready!” Just like the last time they’d contemplated such a foolish action, Tory shut her eyes and whispered a prayer. This time Liam joined her.

  Then he gunned the engine, his foot to the floor, working hard to keep the bucking vehicle in line as it roared over the uneven terrain.

  “Hold on!” he shouted as they plunged into the flames. One, two, three—they were out again, swerving around the edge of the building toward the back where the fire hadn’t reached.

  Smoke filled the air, and Liam knew they had very little time. Tory was already out of the truck, racing around it to reach the door to the shed.

  “It’s locked!” she screamed.

  Liam caught up and threw his weight against it. Swore, took two steps back and tried again. The third time the door buckled, then splintered, and Liam kicked the remains away.

  “Is anyone in here?”

  Coughing and choking on the smoke, Liam fought his way inside. The swirling smoke made it hard to see, and he crashed around, bumping into shelves and tools and finally tripping over something on the ground.

  “Steel?” Tory rushed past him and dropped to her knees. “Steel! Wake up!”

  “Too much smoke,” Liam told her. Now he saw why Steel hadn’t gotten out on his own. His hands were trussed. So were his feet. Somehow he’d tied a bit of cloth to the handle of a rake and lifted it aloft to poke it out the window. That must have been some maneuver. When he’d passed out, the handle had stayed jammed in the broken window frame. Liam didn’t bother to try to free Steel. “Help me.”

  Tory doubled over coughing as the smoke in the building thickened, but she pulled on Steel’s arm, and they got him into a sitting position. With Tory’s assistance, Liam was able to get him over his shoulder. He staggered to his feet under Steel’s weight.

  “Come on,” Tory yelled. “This way.” She led him to the door, tugging him in the right direction when he couldn’t see. Outside, it was easier. Tory raced to open the passenger door, and Liam slung Steel in.

  Tory arranged Steel’s limbs inside the cab and climbed in awkwardly herself. Liam shut the door behind them, raced around the truck and got in the other side.

  “Go, go, go!” she shouted as soon as he was inside.

  Liam saw why.

  In their absence, the wind had whipped the flames even higher, driving them forward to circle the shed. The front wall was fully alight. Behind them, the way they’d come, was an unbroken wall of flames.

  Tory looked from side to side. Saw the same thing he did. “How do we get out of here?”

  Liam didn’t know.

  “We have to turn around,” Tory said, fighting rising panic again, fighting to breathe in the smoky air. “Liam, we have to turn around, now.”

  He put the truck in Reverse, backed up a few feet, whipped the wheel around, shoved the gear shift into Forward and spun the truck in as tight a circle as he could. Confronted with the full force of the fire, he hesitated again. “Which way did we come?”

  “That way!”

  “We didn’t drive straight up. We curved in.”

  “It doesn’t matter—we have to go.”

  “It matters!” The fire was so much bigger than it had been just minutes ago. If he chose wrong, they’d roast alive.

  “Liam, drive—now!”

  Tory shrieked as he gunned the motor again, and they plunged into the flames. Liam fought with the wheel. Tory fought to keep Steel from hitting his head on the windshield. “Go, go!” she kept screaming. “Go, Liam!”

  Time had never stretched so long before the flames suddenly parted again, revealing pasture, blue sky—and fire engines racing their way. Sirens filled the air as Liam swerved out of their path and finally stopped the truck a quarter mile from the flames.

  Tory sobbed with relief, finding it hard to get air in her lungs until Liam reached across her and pushed open her door. Moments later, Enid reached them.

  “What the hell are you thinking? Tory Cooper, I’m going to skin you alive!” She stopped, clapped a hand to her mouth and then lunged into the truck’s cab when she spotted Steel.

  Tory helped her get him upright. He was covered in soot, his face slack.

  Uniformed men converged around Enid in the doorway.

  “Any injuries?” a man yelled as more fire trucks raced past them. Enid stepped back, and the men reached into the vehicle. Tory wiggled out around them as th
ey positioned a stretcher in place and lifted Steel onto it with a practiced maneuver.

  “Tory?” Stella had come racing, too, and caught her around the waist as she stumbled. “You okay?”

  Tory tried to answer. Found she couldn’t.

  She saw Liam as if from a great distance away as he rounded the truck toward her.

  “Liam, you’re bleeding,” someone said.

  Time did funny things after that, moving fast and then slow. Tory had an impression of a crowd of faces around her, sirens filling the air, vehicles hurtling past. Next thing she knew she was in the back of an ambulance. Then a stretcher. A hospital room.

  More faces hovered over her.

  “Smoke inhalation,” someone said.

  “Shock.”

  Tory didn’t know how much time passed after that before she opened her eyes again. Saw Enid sleeping upright in a chair. Saw sunlight streaming through a window. A door opened, and a woman in purple scrubs came in.

  “Someone’s awake,” she said. “Are you thirsty?”

  “Very,” Tory croaked. “Where—?”

  “Tory? Honey, are you okay?” Her mother woke with a start and lunged forward to take her hand.

  “I think so.”

  Suddenly it all came rushing back. The fire, the wind and the sparks, the white rag waving—

  The ride through the flames.

  “Steel? Where’s Steel?”

  “He’s fine, sweetie. He’s being treated for smoke inhalation and some burns, but he’s going to be okay.”

  “Why aren’t you with him?”

  “Olivia’s with him. We’ve been taking turns.”

  Tory lay back. Blinked. A tear slipped down her cheek. “Thorn Hill?” she managed.

  “Thorn Hill’s fine. We did it—we saved our ranch. With a little help.” Enid’s voice thickened. “I don’t know if we could have done it without the Turners.”

  “Liam?” she whispered.

  “Liam’s okay, too. Minor cuts and scrapes. All of us are coughing like we smoke five packs a day, but that will pass.” Enid paused a moment. “The Ridley house—all the outbuildings—they’re all gone. But that’s not important.”