Moonlight on Water (24 page)

This time when she tried to find the bottom, her foot sank into mud. She lifted it quickly before her shoe could be pulled off. Bouncing through the water, not letting her feet linger long on the bottom, she found the stones near the shore. She stood and drew Kitty Cat around her so she could cradle the child in her arms.

Hands came out of the darkness. Someone took Kitty Cat. When she looked up, she saw it was Mr. Sawyer. Sean stood beside him and held out his hand to Rachel. She hesitated, not wanting to pull the boy into the water.

“He's strong enough to help you, Miss Browning,” Mr. Sawyer said.

She grasped the boy's hand. Mr. Sawyer had not been jesting. Sean helped her out of the river as if she weighed as little as Kitty Cat. She dropped to her knees on the shore. Mud sucked her down into the dampness. Cool, thick mud. She breathed in its wet scent.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she raised her head.

Mr. Sawyer put Kitty Cat in Sean's arms. “Let me help you, Miss Browning.”

“Thank you.” She was not going to be proud now. She was soaked and scared. Not of being burned, but for Wyatt and Horace. As Mr. Sawyer helped her to her feet, she looked toward
The Ohio Star
.

“They'll take care of it, Miss Browning.” Turning her to walk up the hill, he added, “I assume you'd like to get Kitty Cat in and dried off as quickly as possible. No sense anyone seeing the two of you looking like drowned rats.”

“Yes, we should get inside right away.” She understood what he did not say. No one from River's Haven must learn she had been aboard the boat. She wanted to thank Mr. Sawyer again, but that would ruin the illusion that he was leading her away from the others simply because he wanted her to get to the red house around the corner from the general store without delay. She was not sure how Mr. Sawyer had chanced to see her in the water, but she appreciated his attempt to keep her from being seen by the villagers of Haven.

At the top of the hill, she looked back at
The Ohio Star
. Men swarmed around the pier in the light of the fire on the top decks. An arc of water struck the flames.

“Don't dally, Miss Browning,” Mr. Sawyer said. “If someone chances to look in this direction …”

Rachel followed him around the back of the livery stable and across the street toward the green. The top of her shoes flapped on every step. Again she glanced behind her. The orange light that had reflected in the river was dimming. The firefighters must be winning their battle with the fire.

Following Mr. Sawyer up onto the porch of the neat red house around the corner from the store, she saw Sean set Kitty Cat on her feet in a comfortable foyer. Mrs. Sawyer threw a blanket over the little girl's shoulders and held out another to Rachel.

“Do come in,” Mrs. Sawyer said.

Rachel took the blanket but said, “We should be returning to River's Haven.”

Closing the door, Mr. Sawyer said, “You should be dry first. Otherwise …”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I appreciate your kindness more than I can say.”

Mrs. Sawyer put her hand on Rachel's arm. “We in Haven take care of one another, just as you do at River's Haven. Come in and sit. I'll see if I can find you something to wear.”

“I'm soaked. I don't want to drip through your house.”

“Come into the kitchen. You can't hurt the chairs out there.” She smiled at her husband. “Noah just put extra coats of paint on them so the children can't ruin them after playing outside.”

Rachel gratefully followed Mrs. Sawyer into the kitchen. The room barely had enough space for the black stove and the table with six chairs around it. A dry sink was set beneath the window. Beyond the door was another room that was only partially complete, and she guessed Mr. Sawyer was enlarging the house.

Sitting at the table covered with a yellow gingham oilcloth, Rachel reached down and drew off her shoes. “I think I should dump these outside.”

“Allow me,” Mrs. Sawyer said.

“You shouldn't be doing all this in your condition.”

Mrs. Sawyer laughed as she patted her rounding stomach. “My work and my family keep me on my feet most of the day, and it's too early to worry about resting. Doc Bamburger told me that I should do anything I feel comfortable doing.”

“But you should take care. Giving birth is so very dangerous.” Rachel's hands clenched in her lap. She admired Mrs. Sawyer and did not want to think of her health and maybe even her life imperiled because of this child.

“I'm not giving birth anytime soon.” She chuckled. Taking Rachel's shoes, she went through the unfinished room and opened a door on the far side.

The odor of smoke burst into the house. Rachel stood and went to the door. A heavy, dark cloud hung over the village, blocking the sunrise. Was the fire out, or were they still fighting it?

“Noah has gone back to find out what's going on and to lend a hand,” Mrs. Sawyer said as if Rachel had spoken out loud. “He'll come back with news as soon as he can. For now, let me see what I can find you to wear while those clothes dry.”

As Mrs. Sawyer went back out of the kitchen, Rachel realized that she had not asked a single question about why Rachel and Kitty Cat had been on the boat. Sinking to the chair again, she leaned her elbow on the table and her cheek against her hand. Mrs. Sawyer did not need to ask questions. Her disheveled state must make it obvious what had kept them aboard the boat last night.

When Mrs. Sawyer returned with an armload of clothing, she dropped them on the table and pulled the thin curtains over the window. Rachel sorted through them and found a skirt and a chemise that would fit her. The skirt would be short, for she was taller than Mrs. Sawyer, but it would be nowhere near as short as the skirts she wore at River's Haven. Only the bottom trio of buttons on her shoes would be seen.

Rachel quickly pulled off her wet clothes and redressed. Mrs. Sawyer dried out Rachel's shoes with a towel. Her steady patter about the upcoming Centennial events seemed to require no answer, and Rachel gave her none.

She needed to concentrate on how she would explain
this
when she returned to River's Haven. Merrill would be furious beyond words, and she had no idea how Mr. Foley would react. He certainly would be outraged to learn that his reluctant bride-to-be had spent the night with Wyatt Colton on
The Ohio Star
.

“Here you go,” said Mrs. Sawyer, handing Rachel her shoes. “I figure this is as dry as I can get them. Gladys would have done better, but she's visiting her brother and won't be back for another few days.”

“Gladys?”

“Noah's housekeeper. She lives out at the farm to keep an eye on the house there until we decide what to do with it.” She laughed. “We don't need two small houses, just one big one.”

Rachel put her hand in one shoe, then slipped her foot into it and began buttoning it into place. “The shoe is drier than it's been when I have taken Kitty Cat for a walk along the river and had to fish her out. Thank you so much.”

“No need for you to keep saying thanks.” She smiled. “I know you'd do the same for my family, for I've seen how much Kitty Cat loves you. Sean tells me that she was mistrustful of others when they were in New York City.”

“Mistrustful? Not Kitty Cat!” Rachel laughed, unable to halt herself as she thought of how Kitty Cat had inveigled her way into Rachel's heart with such speed and how the little girl had made friends so quickly with Wyatt and Horace.

“It's clear that living with you has changed her.”

“I'm glad to hear that, because she's changed me in so many ways, Mrs. Sawyer.”

“Please call me Emma.”

“If you'll call me Rachel.”

Emma pointed to the dry sink. “You can put your wet clothes there, and we'll tend to Kitty Cat next. She and Sean were running up and down the stairs last time I saw them. At the rate they were going, they might already be dry.”

Rachel gathered up her soaked clothes and dropped them in the dry sink. She followed Emma out into the foyer. No child was in sight.

“Sean!” called Emma.

“Here.” He poked his head out of a parlor.

“Where's Kitty Cat?”

He shrugged. “I thought she was out in the kitchen with you.”

“Sean, will you check if she's upstairs with the girls?”

He ran up the steps, calling Kitty Cat's name. Two excited little girl voices answered him, but Rachel did not recognize either of them. He rushed back almost throwing himself down the stairs. “She's not up there.”

“Sean—”

He interrupted Emma by shouting over his shoulder, “I'll look for her outside.”

“No, wait,” Rachel said. When Sean paused, she added, “She wouldn't go out in her wet clothes unless she had a reason.”

“Would she go without you to see if the boat was all right?” asked Emma.

“Not without me.”

“Did she drop something on the way here that she'd want to make sure didn't get burned?”

“Oh! Her doll!” Rachel clenched her hands. “She didn't have her doll when we left
The Ohio Star
. She must be going back to get it.”

“She won't get back aboard,” Emma said. “There are too many men down on the pier.”

Sean rubbed his hands together. “Don't be so certain of that, Emma. Kitty Cat got her name because she could sneak in and out of any place like a cat.”

“I'm going to go look for her.” Rachel opened the door. “If she comes back here, please send for me down at the river.”

“Of course.” Emma put her arm around Sean's shoulders. “We'll keep looking for her around the village.”

Nodding, Rachel hurried down the steps and along the street. The odd fall of her skirt seemed more determined to tangle in her legs than either of the lengths she was accustomed to. She ran past the railroad station and fought not to tumble down the hill as she had before.

Hot smoke tried to choke her, and she waved it away. To no avail, for more wove in front of her. Reaching the bottom of the hill, she looked along the shore barely lit by the rising sun. No sign of the little girl.

More than a score of men stood on the pier. She looked for Wyatt. She did not see him, but Horace was walking toward the riverbank.

“Have you seen Kitty Cat?” Rachel cried as she rushed up to him.

Horace shook his head as he wiped smoke stains from his face. “I thought Sawyer told us that she went with you up to the village.”

“She did, but she's vanished. She may be looking for her doll.”

“Doll?”

“She left it on
The Ohio Star
.”

“Wyatt!” he shouted.

Rachel pressed her hands over her heart as Wyatt pushed through the crowd. Like Horace, his face and clothes were covered with soot. Holes in his coat must have come from embers. Only now, when she saw him standing undaunted on the pier, did she realize how desperately she had feared for him.

Her feet were carrying her toward him before she could form another thought. Throwing her arms around his shoulders, she pressed her face to his chest. She closed her eyes, thankful for his steady heartbeat beneath her ear.

“You're safe,” she whispered.

“What are you doing back here?” he asked as quietly. “I thought you and K. C. would have hightailed it back to River's Haven by now.”

She stepped back, although she wanted to remain in his arms. “Kitty Cat has disappeared. I think she may have come back here to get her rag doll.”

Wyatt swore before saying, “Stay here. Don't follow us and try to do something stupid.”

“But—”

He silenced her with his mouth on hers. Just now, he did not care who saw her with him. Although Sawyer had told him that he had fished Rachel and K. C. out of the river and seen them to his house behind the store, Wyatt had feared that one of them had been hurt.

He released her, not letting the fleeting glow in her eyes beguile him into pulling her to him again. Waving for Horace to follow him, he ran along the pier toward the boat. He wobbled on each step. Smoke and soot filled his lungs, and he was burned in more than a score of places. He ignored it all. They had to find K. C. before she found a hot spot and was hurt worse than he and Horace were.

The lower deck was intact except for where fire had dripped off the upper decks. It was still too hot above to check the extent of damage there. Water dripped down, and sizzles warned that the charred decks remained dangerously hot.

“Where did K. C. sleep?” he shouted to Horace as they pushed through the crowd that had come to help fight the fire. A volley of coughs burst from him. Shouting was not a good idea.

“In a rocking chair in the saloon.”

“That's where she's headed then.” He leaped aboard
The Ohio Star
, calling back, “Watch your step.”

Wyatt was immediately sucked again into the blistering maw of the smoke. Pulling the sleeve of his coat up over his mouth, he tried to run across the deck. The best he could manage was an awkward lope. He heard shouts as he emerged from the smoke. He did not need to listen to the others calling him to come back to the pier. He knew he was being a fool. He did not have a chance of escaping if the fire burst forth again, but he refused to admit that they could not find Kitty Cat.

Where was Horace? He could not see his partner in the smoke. He could not shout again. Not in the midst of this smoke that was already strangling him. Wiping his watering eyes, he hurried at the best pace he could along the deck. Something cracked above, and he threw himself toward the stern. Embers and charred debris fell behind him, smashing into ashes.

He cursed again when his foot slipped on something. He fell to the deck. The indisputable scent of grease came from a cloth that was lying on the boards. Picking it up, he stuffed it in his pocket as he took the stairs two at a time. At the top, he had to stop to catch his breath. More coughs tore out of him until he feared he would vomit up everything inside him.