Heat Wave (Riders Up) (25 page)

Grateful for the
coolness of the night air, Maggie led the mare toward a paddock and safety. She
removed her blindfold-blouse, soaked it in a water tank and slipped it back on.
Later, she would attend to her burns; now there was more to be done.

She dashed back
toward the burning barn. Ed caught her at the entryway. “Get back,” he shouted.
“The second floor is going to collapse at any moment. That guy who warned us is
still in there trying to free the last horse. I’m going back in. Stay put.” The
fierceness of his eyes invited no debate.

Maggie withdrew
back into the nearest paddock. She tried not to think. She tried not to feel. She
squinted, trying to see through the thick smoke and flames. It might as well
have been opaque.

At last she made
out the dark figure of a horse. The animal was pulling against the men who were
holding one arm over their mouths trying not to breathe in the burning air
while coaxing the mare to continue stepping forward. The mare threw her head to
the left trying to turn around, nearly knocking Ed off his feet.

As Maggie watched,
standing on her toes, leaning this way and that to get a better view through
the smoke, she saw the horse rear and then kick back, knocking Randy to the
barn floor. She feared that the panicked horse would trample Randy if Ed couldn’t
get the animal away from him. Cajoling, pleading, Ed got the frightened mare to
inch its way out of the barn doorway.

Maggie ran forward
and grabbed the rope hanging around the mare’s neck. Without hesitation, Ed
scrambled back into the barn in search of Randy.

She watched with growing
horror as four-by-sixes and beams that had been strong enough to hold the barn
roof through generations began to crumble like a child’s game of blocks. The
end of the barn closest to the house—the end where she and Ed had been so
recently—had collapsed. Her hand flew to her mouth. And then she saw Ed step
from the barn. He had Jackson swung over his shoulder like a bag of feed.

“Thank God,” Maggie
squealed when Ed laid Randy Jackson on the ground beside her. Neither man
spoke. Both heaved and gasped for more air. Both had singed hair and eyebrows,
but both men were alive. Maggie could breathe again.

First she heard
sirens, and then the fire trucks started to roll into yard. But it was too late
to save much of anything of the barn. They had saved the horses, and they had
saved each other. Thank goodness for neighbors.

She look at her
companions and then down at herself. Maggie laughed; she couldn’t stop from
laughing. The three of them were so smudged with black soot they could easily
pass for chimney sweeps.

Then Maggie started
to cry. She shook her head, trying to clear it of fiery images. She didn’t want
to appear hysterical, but she couldn’t stop crying. There was no telling if she
cried because of the tragedy that happened or because of the tragedies that
might have happened or might yet happen.

She thanked God for
life as tears rolled down her cheeks. And then she pounded the ground with her
fists. Who would endanger lives to get her land? She stood. She flopped back
down on the ground and closed her eyes attempting to blot out the sights, the
sounds and the smells of the firestorm destroying her dreams.

If Ed asked her to,
she would take the kids and go with him to Chicago. Tonight would not be too
soon. Enough was enough. Even the land wasn’t worth the lives of those she
loved.

Ed and Randy both
lay nearby trying to catch their breaths. She moved over to tenderly brush Ed’s
hair with her reddened fingers. They exchanged no words. Words were not
necessary when their eyes spoke so eloquently. They had each faced death; they
had each survived a descent into hell.

“I owe you my life,
young man,” Randy  said, struggling to get to his knees. “It was dumb thing to
do, to come back in after me.” He paused, brushing tears back from peeling
skin. “But I thank you.”

“You owe me?” Ed
was incredulous. “We owe you, mister. If you hadn’t banged on my door…”

“Well, maybe things
sort of canceled out. Sure glad I drove by when I did and saw your light on.” The
older man leaned over to wink at Maggie. “Don’t go worrying about what I’m
gonna tell people. What you do privately is your own business.”

“Thanks, Randy,”
Maggie murmured. “I appreciate that. And thanks so very much for helping with
the horses. The future of Anderson Stables could have evaporated here tonight,
if it weren’t for you.”

Grinning
sheepishly, the man replied, “Just remember to give me a hot tip at the track
now and then.”

“You can count on
that.”

Maggie turned and
held out her arms as Johnny came running at her from across the yard.

“Did he really do
it, Mom? Did Ed save Mr. Jackson’s life?” her son cried, clinging to Maggie’s
side.

Maggie chastised
herself for forgetting about the children during all the commotion. They’d been
awakened by the fire engines and had heard the story from one of the firemen.

“He sure did,
Johnny,” she said, tousling his hair.

Ed appeared
genuinely embarrassed when Johnny ran and jumped into his arms. “It wasn’t all
that much, pardner,” he said to the boy. “You would’ve done the same thing, if
you had been here.”

Johnny shook his
head, his eyes bulging. “This is bigger than winning a fight. Wait until I tell
Dennis Baxter. He thought you were a coward because you let two men beat you
up.”

As the barn
continued to burn behind them, Maggie watched Ed set her son on the ground. She
watched him place a hand on each of Johnny’s shoulders. His admonishment was
clear, and she knew it came from his heart. “Don’t ever measure a man’s courage
by the outcome of a fight, son. There are many more important things that are a
true test of a man’s grit.”

Maggie’s heart
warmed. How she hoped Johnny would listen to and remember that wisdom. She
wondered at how easily the man called her boy
son
. Shaking her head, she
reminded herself of Ed’s letter and how he was free to reclaim his life without
her, without any of them.

Maggie sat alone on
the porch swing the following morning, the stench from soaking, smoldering wood
and leather permeating her entire world. There was no way to avoid its
heaviness. Neither could she escape the icy despair strangling her heart.

With the stewards
in Chicago clearing Ed’s name, he was bound to leave for the big city. The barn
was a total loss. At least no horses were lost—and no humans. Maggie shuddered.
They’d come so close.

Every muscle in her
body ached. She’d applied aloe to her burns and those suffered by Ed and Randy.
They should have gone to the hospital, she supposed, but neither she nor Ed
wanted to leave the farm. And a volunteer fireman drove Randy home.

Her eyes ached from
staring at the gray-black scene—and from tears that refused to come. Maggie
realized she was still in shock, but knowing that didn’t help a damn bit.

One by one, the
rest of the family emerged as if from a shared nightmare. Maggie managed a half
smile in greeting. She had her children; things could be much worse.
Buck
up, girl,
she ordered,
people still depend on you and your strength.

After murmuring
good mornings, Johnny and Carolyn sat down on porch chairs; both children
remained uncharacteristically quiet. Each appeared lost in disbelief as they,
too, stared at where the barn had stood only hours before.

Maggie watched Ed’s
bent form moving toward the house. He could hardly place one foot in front of
the other. He’d stayed up all night and into the morning, checking along with
the firemen for hot spots in the dying embers. The last fire truck had left
about an hour earlier. Several of the men indicated they would return later to
make certain everything was still safe.

That was a bad
joke. How could their lives ever again be safe?

“Carolyn,” Maggie
said softly, “bring out the coffee pot, please. Ed will want some.”

Ed entered the
porch and collapsed into the chair across from her. He shut his eyes and kept
them closed for a long moment. Then he opened them, brushed soot off his
forehead, and gave her a look filled with concern. “How are you holding up,
Maggie?”His voice was scratchy, probably from swallowing so much smoke and from
lack of sleep.

She shrugged. “I’ll
survive. How about you? You lost everything in that fire. Your clothes, money,
mementos.”

He coughed and then
smiled weakly, reaching for the cup of coffee Carolyn offered. “Thanks,
Carolyn. Don’t know how many gallons I’ve drunk since last night, but this is
still a lifesaver.” Turning back to Maggie, he continued, “You’re wrong,
Maggie. I didn’t lose everything. What I lost is replaceable. We are extremely
lucky not to have lost more. Extremely lucky.”

Maggie bit her
lower lip. She couldn’t stop trembling, no matter how hard she tried. She noticed
her children listening intently, trying hard not be noticed. They didn’t have
to try so hard—she wasn’t about to send them away. What she had to say, they
all needed to hear.

“You’re right. We
were terribly lucky.” Maggie sighed heavily. “We took a risk—or I forced us all
to take a risk.” She ignored Ed’s eyebrow flash. “I took a risk that we were
dealing with a reasonable person who merely wanted some land that wasn’t
available. I didn’t know we were dealing with someone so crazy he’d stoop to
killing cats, burning barns, and not caring a whit about life—animal or human.”

“At least this
should get the attention of the law,” said Ed, jumping in when Maggie was
forced to pause for breath. “I’ll call Clint later today.”

“Why bother?” Maggie’s
voice shook and her cheek twitched wildly. “I’m done. They can have the land. It’s
not worth the price of human life.”

“What?” Johnny and
Carolyn gasped in unison.

Ed showed no
evidence of surprise. “Why don’t we put off major decisions for a day or two,
Maggie? Give it some time. Let’s reassess our resources—practical and emotional—and
then go from there.”

Laughing out of
control, Maggie slumped further in her chair. “That’s easy for you to say,” she
accused. “You’ve got a career to go back to now. I don’t know what I’ll do. After
I sell, maybe I’ll take Ben’s advice and go back to school. There must be some
skill I can learn.”

“Mom, I don’t want
you to sell the farm,” Carolyn cried, jumping to her feet.

Johnny grabbed his
mother’s hands, tears sliding down his cheeks. Watching him, Maggie thought her
heart would surely break. “No way, Mom. I’m not scared. Ed can take care of us.
We’ll beat those bad guys. Don’t give up, Mom. We can do it.”

Maggie could feel
herself losing it. Her spine, her muscles, her strength unraveled. She might
have cried in front of her children, but she’d never bawled. There was little
doubt that she was on the verge of a full scale bawl. “You two have been great
throughout all of this, but I don’t think I can fight anymore. And Ed has his
own life to live. We can’t expect him to stay and help us now.”

She paused, trying
to focus on her kids through a rainbow of tears. “With the fire and all, we
never had a chance to tell you that Ed has been cleared by the Racing Board in
Chicago. He can go back and pick up where he left off now.”

Speaking calmly, Ed
did not take his eyes off of Maggie, “Carolyn, Johnny, I know all of this is
very important to both of you. But I think your mom and I need to talk about
some things privately. Would you mind leaving us alone for a little while? We’ll
bring you up to speed when we’re done.”

“Fine,” Carolyn
declared, “maybe you can help her find that Magee backbone she’s always telling
us about.”

Disheveled and
exhausted, Maggie tried to focus on Ed. Why didn’t he just leave? She didn’t
need his pity. She felt defenseless now that the kids had left. Why had he made
them go? Squaring her shoulders, Maggie prepared for the worst.

“Did I fail to live
up to your expectations?” Ed leaned forward. His gray eyes burned with an unfamiliar
emotion. “I’m sorry your barn burned down, Maggie. Maybe I should’ve done more
to protect it and to protect you.”

“No, no,” Maggie
blubbered. “You do too much protecting. But you got what you wanted. The Board
reinstated you. Now you can go back to Chicago and pick up where you left off.”

“So you thought I
was going to leave you and go back to my old ways?”

Maggie didn’t know
what to make of his smugness. She was missing something. “Yes, of course,” she
replied hesitantly. “Weren’t you?”

Ed shook his head
slowly. “What did you think last night was about? Before the fire. Was that
just a farewell kiss to you?”

“But…but you wanted
to memorize my body.”

His pained look
haunted her, making her speechless.

“Good God, Maggie,
I wanted to memorize your body because I can’t stand ever being apart from you.
I want to be able to breathe you and feel you when I’m in the barn and you’re
in the house. But you didn’t trust me.”