Laurel: Bride of Arkansas (American Mail-Order Bride 25) (11 page)

“Ansel, there’s no way we can fight this fire. Do you agree?”

“I think we should call all the men back, before we lose someone.”

“Good, you ring the bell and I’ll go try to spread the word by mouth.”

In about an hour, with word-of-mouth and the constant ringing of the bell, all the men, except two, were back at the office. Clem and Otto were still out there somewhere.

“Everybody go home,” Ansel shouted over the roar of the fire, and then grabbed his pickax and shovel. “I’ll go find my boys.”

“You won’t go alone. I’m going with you.” Griffin spoke to all the men. “Obviously, none of you have to go, but if you do, pair up with someone. No one ventures out alone and stay along the established trail.” He noticed none of the men left.

“Griff,” someone yelled. “I saw them go north when we headed out earlier.”

“That’s good. Did anyone else see them after that?” No’s and head shakes answered his question. “This is what we’ll do. Half will go north and half will go south and circle ‘round. Whoever finds them will fire off two shots or ring the bell to call in the rest of us. All right?”

“Yeah, Griff, got it. See you back here.”

Against his better judgement, as the fire could come around behind them and close off their escape, Griffin followed Ansel off the main road onto a trail that split the difference between the two main roads. “Ansel? Where’re you going?”

“I’m pretty sure I know where them boys went.” He continued to climb, stepping over brush and pushing tree limbs out of his way. “You go back to safety and wait for us.”

“Not likely. I won’t leave you alone and chance losing three men to this fire.” He stopped short behind Ansel, when the man halted his forward motion.

“Four.”

“What?” He followed Ansel’s line of sight and saw three men walking toward them. Clem and Otto bracketed another man Griffin had never seen. When they were close enough, Ansel hugged all three.

“Griffin, meet my oldest brother, Henrik Hailstock.”

***

Laurel had never been good at waiting. Griffin had left nearly three hours ago, but it seemed a lot longer. She, Gwenda, and Henry had been busy collecting all salvageable items from the main room and putting them elsewhere in the house, while the girls slept in the unfinished bathroom.

She stood in the gaping hole where the front door used to be. She knew all things could essentially be replaced, and in some cases for the better. The sadness for her lay in the fact that it had to be replaced at all.

“You truly have a level head on your shoulders. Thank you for getting us to safety today.”

She jumped as she realized Gwenda had come to stand beside her. “I’m sure you would’ve remembered the room in time.”

“We don’t know that.” Gwenda set a dining room chair upright and sat. “What did you mean earlier when you said you’d seen a sky like that before?”

Laurel didn’t want to talk about the tragedies from her past, but she wondered if bringing her fears out in the open would help lessen their control over her. She waited another heartbeat or two then said, “Last July, a tornado hit the town of Lawrence, Massachusetts, where I lived with my Aunt Lottie Carlisle.

“I was at work in the Brown Textile Mill one morning, when the bad weather hit. All of us huddled in corners and under some of the heavy equipment. The entire episode lasted mere minutes, just like today, and when it passed, the damage to the town was extensive.

“I made my way back to the house I shared with Aunt Lottie and it was gone. If I hadn’t known it had been there, I wouldn’t have known it existed. The two houses on either side had only minimal damage. We never found Lottie.”

“Oh good Lord. I’m so sorry, Laurel.” She reached her arms around Laurel and hugged tightly. “But wait a minute, where was your Aunt from originally?”

“She and my mother were from Boston, why?”

“I went to school in Boston and was acquainted with a Carlotta Carlisle.” Gwenda smiled. “I remember she had more radical ideas than the rest of us.”

Laurel returned her smile. “That would be Lottie. She was fiercely independent and a member of
NAWSA
, the women’s suffrage movement.

“Well, I’m sorry for your loss. She had some spunk, that one. I’m sure you miss her terribly.”

“I do, and talking about her makes me realize how much I miss my mother.” She turned to Gwenda, placed her hand on her new friend’s arm. “I’ve been stubborn where my parents are concerned. I thought I needed to distance myself from my father’s domination, but in the end, I’ve only separated myself from the ones I love.”

“Speaking as a mother who’s lost a child, I can tell you, your mother misses you greatly. You have the power to give her daughter back to her.”

“I see that, now.”

“Gwen! Gwen!” Henry came running up to them, panic written all over his face. “Do you smell the smoke?”

“I hadn’t noticed it, no.” Gwenda stood and sniffed the air. “Perhaps now that you’ve brought it to my attention, I do. Which direction is it coming from?”

“I’m not sure. The smoke could just be riding under the cloud cover from over the ridge. The clouds will make it hard to see the smoke.”

“No, they won’t.” Laurel grabbed Henry’s shoulder to gain his attention and pointed in the direction Griffin and Ansel had driven off in. The clouds in the sky to the north had turned black again, which served as the perfect backdrop for the white-gray smoke that billowed heavenward. As she stared at the sky, what she knew to be smoke was accompanied by a red glow, licking across the top of the ridge. They had to get out of here. “The fire is coming toward us. What do we do, Henry?”

“Get the girls and meet me out back. I’ll hitch the horse to the wagon and we’ll head down to the river. That’s the safest place for us to ride this out.”

Laurel and Gwenda ran to the back of the house to get Coral and Josie gathered up. The smell of smoke was now more prevalent and clogged the air. Laurel hesitated at the entrance to the small room for a second or two, the memories assaulting her and intensifying her senses. For those couple of seconds, she was back in that room at the mill, with the door blocked and no escape. Josie’s tiny whimper at being woken up spurred her into action.

As they headed out the back door, Coral asked, “Grandma, where are we going?”

“We’re going down to the river.” She glanced over at Laurel as they set both girls into the bed of the wagon. “You remember how you like to play along the shore, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh, but we want our dollies, can’t we have our dollies?”

“No, darling, we have to go.”

Laurel looked over her shoulder, beyond the roof of the house, and made her decision. “Yes, sweetheart, I’ll go get them for you.”

“There’s no time,” Henry shouted. “We have to go now!”

“I’ll be right behind you.” she slapped the side of the wagon. “Go!”

Heading back to the house, she understood Gwenda and Henry thought she was crazy and, no doubt, Griffin would be furious with her. Flibberdegibbit, right at this moment, she questioned her own judgement. All she knew was, the world the girls were used to, was frightening at best and she wanted them to have something familiar they could hold on to.

She ran upstairs to the bedroom where the dolls laid on the bed, scooped them up, and started toward the steps to go back downstairs. The smoke was thicker than it had been before she went into the back bedroom, so she decided to just run for the stairs and find her way outside the best way she could. She lowered her head and ran right into a large, immovable object. Her hands scaled the solid form that was also warm and had a face . . .

“Griffin! You’re here.”

“I am. Why are you?” His arms enveloped her, holding her in place. “You should’ve been in the wagon on the way to safety. What are you doing up here?”

“I came to get the girls their dollies.” She struggled to get out of his hold. “Come on, we have to get out of here!”

“Laurel, listen.”

He wasn’t hearing her for some reason. Had the man gone deaf? From somewhere deep within her, she mustered up the strength and pushed hard against his chest. They spun around, but still, he held her fast.

“Listen.”

“No, we must leave, now!”

“Laurel, listen!”

She stopped struggling long enough to hear his voice and . . . something else. “Rain?”

“Yes, wonderful, glorious rain. It’s pouring and will go a long way toward putting out the fire.”

“Oh, thank the Lord,” she said, choking back tears. She noticed, too, that the smoke had dissipated. “We have to go bring the wagon back.”

“Already done,” he assured her. “Henry should be pulling into the yard soon. That’s how I knew where you were.”

She gave him a puzzled look. “How?”

“We have an escape route planned just for this kind of emergency.” He framed her face with his hands. “I have half a mind to turn you over my knee. What if I hadn’t gotten here in time? What if it hadn’t rained? What if—”

“You know,” she interrupted, with a smile meant to tease. “You could
“what if”
this situation to death, or you can come down here and kiss me.”

He looked at her and that tempting mouth of hers and did exactly as she asked.

***

“All right, let me look at you.” Laurel angled back and took a look at Coral and Josie’s cherub faces. They were fairly clean considering she’d gathered them right from the dinner table and brought them upstairs to dress them in their night clothes for bed. She buttoned Josie’s night dress and smiled at both girls. “There you are, my beauties, now hop downstairs and tell your Papa, Grandma, and Grampa night-night.”

She hung up the girl’s dresses and put their dirty things in the basket to be washed next Monday. When she’d turned down the bed, she followed them downstairs. They were still making the rounds, collecting hugs and kisses and begging Grandpa to tell them a bedtime story.

“Please, Grandpa,” Coral pleaded. “Tell us the story about the goose and the golden egg.”

“Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum,” Josie said and giggled.

“I smell the blood of an Englishman,” Coral finished.

Henry winked at her and Gwenda. “How do I know which story you want if you don’t give me the proper name? Is it about the Pied Piper?”

“No, Grandpa.”

“Let me see . . . is it the one about the wolf?”

“No, Grandpa.”

He scratched his head. “Did the cow jump over the moon?”

“Grandpa, no-uh.” Coral fisted her hands on her hips and gave him an exasperated look.

Josie climbed into his lap, framed his face with her hands and said, “You know, the story about the giant.”

“Oh, that one,” Henry teased. He set Josie on the floor and stood. “Well, I can’t very well tell the story to empty pillows.”

Coral took Josie by the hand and ran toward the stairs. “Come on, Grandpa!”

Gwenda followed him to the bottom step. “Grandpa? May I hear the story, too?”

“You may, but I warn you it might get scary.”

“How lucky we are to have you there to protect us, then.”

When they’d all gone up, Laurel joined Griffin at the table where he sat with a cup of coffee. She sat beside him and took a sip, coughing and sputtering when she realized he’d laced it with whiskey. Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I don’t understand how you can drink that. Why didn’t you say something before I had some?”

“Maybe you should ask permission before taking liberties with a man’s coffee.”

She glared at him in amusement, and with mock indignation, she said, “Permission? Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He pushed back his chair, reached over and pulled her onto his lap. His hand lifted the edge of her skirt and crept slowly up her leg past the top of her buttoned shoe to her knee.

“Stop.” She halted his progression with her own hand atop his through layers of fabric and then she cast a frantic glance over her shoulder. “Henry and Gwenda might come down the stairs any moment.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“But, the girls will be going to sleep soon and they’ll . . . be . . .” She, more or less, lost her train of thought as his lips found her neck. He kissed and nibbled his way to the spot below her ear, as his fingers grazed the skin behind her knee. “Don’t.”

“You don’t think Henry isn’t trying to get beneath Gwenda’s skirts right about now?

“Griffin!” she protested, but drew in a quick breath as his teeth nipped her earlobe and his hand squeezed her inner thigh.

“I could take you right here on this table and no one would be the wiser.”

She shivered as he kissed her in that tender spot behind said lobe and his tongue circled the outline of her ear. His warm breath on her neck and his fingers beneath her skirt, teased, tantalized, and tempted her to the point that she glanced longingly at the table. Suddenly, movement out of the corner of her eye caused her to jump up and out of his lap.

“Papa?” Coral stood, bare footed, dolly in hand, and her eyes wide, at the bottom stair step. “What are you doing?”