Brides of Idaho

by Ford, Linda;

  Trace stepped over the threshold, jerked off his hat, and stood there.

  Mandy pointed to the row of hooks, and he hung his hat. She waved him toward the kitchen where the others waited. “My sisters, Joanna and Glory, and Levi, the preacher.”

  He shook hands all around.

  “Welcome. It’s nice to have another man present,” Levi said.

  Joanna and Glory measured him discreetly but thoroughly.

  What had she expected? Of course they would. Just like she’d made her own personal assessment of Levi before she was prepared to let him befriend Glory. Ironically, both she and Joanna saw how things were between the pair before Glory did.

  Her thoughts stuttered. Did they see something she didn’t? It wasn’t possible. Her cheeks burned to know her sisters might think so.

  Joanna invited them all to sit at the smaller kitchen table, and in the ensuing shuffle she forgot the question.

  Joanna indicated she and Trace should sit on one side of the table, Glory and Levi across from them. Joanna sat at the end. The food was ready and waiting. Mandy’s sisters must have placed it on the table while she invited Trace in.

  Joanna nodded in Levi’s direction. “Would you say the blessing, please?”

  Levi stood as he prayed.

  They passed the food—mashed potatoes, gravy, cooked carrots, and succulent roast venison.

  Trace tasted the meat and sighed. “You’re right. It’s delicious.”

  “Best you’ve ever tasted?”

  “Think so. How do you do it?”

  “It’s a secret.” She felt him stiffen and knew he’d caught the little emphasis on the final word. Yes, it was silly and probably childish to keep harping on the subject of secrets, but she couldn’t stop herself.

  “I see. An old family secret, I suppose.”

  Glory laughed. “She doesn’t even want us to know, though all we have to do is watch her. It’s something she learned from an old man who showed her how to cut up a deer.”

  “Took a little practice to get it perfected.” In truth, it wasn’t that difficult. She soaked the meat in a brine solution, seared it, and rubbed a mixture of herbs and spices into it. The old trapper had told her his mixture, but she had experimented and created her own special blend.

  Glory leaned toward Trace.

  Mandy didn’t like the look in her sister’s eyes and knew she was up to no good. She reached out her foot under the table and nudged Glory’s leg, but her sister ignored the warning.

  “Mandy tells me the two of you are in a race to see who will get that piece of land. Tell me why you don’t leave her have it and find another piece. Seems it would be a lot less trouble.”

  Trace’s laugh rang with wry amusement. “At first, I only saw it as a challenge. Not a very tough one either, I figured in my innocence. I realize now it would have been a lot easier to walk away, but now I have a house started. A very nice log house. In fact…”

  Mandy’s heart sank. She should have warned him not to call hers a twig house and mention the three pigs. It was too late. All she could hope for was to change the subject. “He should have known I wouldn’t be bested when I outshot him in a little contest we had.”

  Levi chuckled. “They’re called the Buffalo Gals for a good reason.”

  Mandy groaned. Even Joanna looked like she wanted to stuff something into Levi’s mouth to shut him up. But Glory grinned.

  Trace rose to the bait as nicely as a river trout. “Buffalo Gals?”

  “Yes, indeed. A well-earned title.” Levi’s gaze adored Glory. “It started when they trailed after their father. When they asked if people had seen him, one man asked if they meant the buffalo hunter. That’s when people started calling them the Buffalo Gals. But they rightly earned the name. They wear pants, they look tough, and they are. There’s nothing these three won’t try and succeed in doing.”

  Mandy shifted a little so she could see Trace’s reaction without looking directly at him.

  His eyes found hers and wouldn’t let her go. “I have seen it firsthand with Mandy.” His grin didn’t mock her. In fact—her breath caught midway up her chest and refused to budge—she could almost think his gaze was as admiring as Levi’s.

  No reason it should be.

  But at least he didn’t mention her twig house.

  Levi finished his meal and pushed away his plate. He’d seen the pies and no doubt decided to save some room for a slice. “How is your house coming?”

  Determined to prevent Trace from repeating some of the things he said about her construction work, she answered first. “The walls on my house are five feet high or so.”

  “Yes, indeed, the walls of her house are coming along quickly. Keeps me hopping to stay ahead.” Trace, bless his heart, laughed—a sound so full of mocking Mandy expected everyone at the table would wonder what was so funny.

  Glory leaned forward. “She can cut logs and place them as fast as you?” She shot Mandy a look of pure disbelief.

  “Why should that surprise you?” Mandy demanded.

  Glory shrugged. “For one thing, you aren’t all that great with an ax. Joanna asks me to chop the wood for a very good reason. So either you have improved a great deal or”—she shifted her gaze to Trace—“you aren’t a skilled axman.” She ran her gaze up and down his arms and across his shoulders. “Something I would find hard to believe.” She leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest. “I think you aren’t telling the whole truth.”

  “Sure sounds like you’re calling me a liar.” Mandy jerked forward, reaching across the table toward Glory, who simply backed away with a wicked grin.

  “Girls,” Joanna chided. “Please remember this is Sunday, and we have guests.”

  Levi chuckled. “Don’t let our presence interfere with a little family discussion.” He turned to Trace. “I’ve learned to stay out of their arguments and as far away as possible.”

  Both Glory and Mandy settled back in their chairs. Glory continued to grin while Mandy scowled.

  When Glory turned her attention to Trace, Mandy guessed her sister didn’t intend to heed her silent warning.

  “So what is the whole truth and nothing but the truth about these houses?”

  Trace spared Mandy a quick glance, but she didn’t look his way to see if he intended to throw caution to the wind or guard his tongue.

  “Well,” he began slowly. “There is something unique about Mandy’s house. You see…” He had the full attention of everyone around the table. “Mine is a fine log house that will stand for years. I intend to add on to it once I’ve completed the terms of our agreement and have the deed to the land.”

  “But what will you do with two houses?” Joanna asked.

  Under the table, Mandy kicked Trace’s ankle, which only brought a chuckle from his traitorous lips.

  “Mandy’s house will be a perfect storage shed.” His demanding gaze informed her he’d been as kind as possible.

  But Glory wasn’t about to let it go. Talk about a hound dog with a smelly bone. Her sister qualified far more than Mandy. “You said there was something unique about her house. What?”

  Trace hesitated.

  Mandy tried to kick his ankle again, but he’d shifted his legs out of her reach.

  “Maybe you’d like to tell them yourself?”

  If looks could do damage, his cheek would be as scarred as Cora’s. “Don’t think so.” She knew Glory would not be satisfied with that. Nor Joanna, though she would wait until they were alone to turn the thumbscrews.

  Glory shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

  Her pretended indifference made Mandy’s nerves twitch. What was she up to?

  She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  “I don’t need anyone to tell me. All I have to do is walk up the trail and see for myself. In fact, I don’t know why I haven’t done so already.”

  Trace jerked halfway to his feet then subsided. “I’d like to ask you to respect our privacy.”

&nb
sp; “Mandy told us about Cora. I won’t bother her. Won’t even let her know I was there.”

  Mandy lifted her palms toward the roof in surrender. “If you must know, Miss Nosy, my house is built of—” She struggled for the right word. One that sounded better than—

  “Twigs,” Trace supplied.

  “Twigs?” Glory hooted. “How are you keeping them stacked? With fence posts?”

  “It’s not twigs. It’s small trees, and I’m putting them up in the same fashion Trace is using to build with thick logs.” She sounded every bit as aggrieved as she felt and wanted Glory to know it. No reason to inform them she’d had to drive some poles in upright to hold her logs in place.

  “It will be a perfect storage shed,” Trace soothed.

  The way he patted her arm and spoke so kindly did nothing to ease her anger.

  Joanna, seeing Mandy’s expression, tried to change the subject. “Levi, that was an excellent sermon.” She shifted her gaze to Trace. “Too bad you missed it. It was about Jesus calming the winds and the waves on the sea.” She returned her attention to Levi. “I like how you reminded us that God is in control of nature.”

  Glory tore her gaze from Mandy to Levi, and her expression changed from teasing to pure adoration so fast Mandy blinked to assure herself she wasn’t seeing a mirage.

  “What was that you said about the water in the ocean?” Glory asked.

  “All the water in the ocean cannot sink a ship unless it gets inside.” His look included everyone at the table. “All the trouble in the world cannot harm us unless it gets into our spirit.”

  Trace had been enjoying the teasing between Mandy and her sister. He’d been silently pleased when Mandy nudged his ankle. Okay, it was more than a nudge. More like a sharp kick. He’d have a bruise, but Levi’s words brought Trace back to reality with a thud that hurt his head. Certainly he’d been taught to believe God was in control. He’d even believed it at one time. But then he realized how truly awful life could be. If God was in control of those things, then God couldn’t be loving and kind, as he’d once believed.

  Levi continued to speak. “Bad things happen. There is evil in the world because of sin. But faith enables each of us to rest in God’s care.”

  Pat answers. Easy for a preacher. For a person who likely knew nothing of the sort of evil Trace had witnessed firsthand. Lies. Theft. Arson. Murder.

  Joanna glanced around the table. “Anyone for a second piece of pie?”

  Trace would gladly have taken another but didn’t want to seem greedy. However, when Levi handed his plate forward, he did the same, thanking Joanna.

  Suddenly Glory leaned forward so far she almost upset her chair. “That’s why you wanted to know about the three little pigs.”

  Uh-oh. He couldn’t imagine Mandy letting this go unchallenged. “This is really good pie, Joanna. I haven’t had pie in so long I almost forgot what a treat it is.”

  “He said you built a house of twigs—like one of the three pigs—didn’t he?”

  Mandy didn’t answer, but her glower was enough to tear strips from Glory’s flesh, though Glory seemed unaware of her danger. She turned her burning interest to Trace.

  He ducked and wished he had more pie to concentrate on, but he’d eaten the last bit and had to settle for scraping together a few flakes of pastry.

  “You said that, didn’t you?” Glory persisted.

  He shrugged. Allowed himself one quick glance at Mandy. She studiously avoided looking at him.

  “I know you did.” Glory leaned toward him. “And she let you live? Amazing.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “Or maybe not.” She grinned at Mandy. “Maybe not so strange at all.”

  Levi draped an arm across Glory’s shoulders. “Give your sister some peace.”

  Trace wondered if Glory knew the meaning of the word. He began to feel sympathy for Mandy. No wonder she was always so ready to defend herself. Seems she’d have little choice around Glory.

  But before either girl could take the conflict to another level, someone threw open the door. “Fire. Up at the Murray house. Hurry. We need all the help we can get.”

  Fire! Trace couldn’t breathe.

  Mandy and the others bolted for the door. She paused, saw him frozen in place. “Trace, aren’t you going to help?”

  “I’ll be there.” He was hot on her heels in a matter of seconds. Time was of the essence in rescuing the inhabitants and saving their belongings.

  The group raced toward the center of town. Smoke billowed behind the lawyer’s office. Flames shot from the window of a small house—hungry, angry flames. Consuming.

  A bucket brigade formed under the shouted orders of a large man. Mandy fell in line, Glory at her elbow, then Levi and Joanna. Trace raced past and stopped before the man in charge. “Is everyone out?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Trace stared into the flames, holding up a hand to protect his face from the heat, and cocked his head. Did he hear a call for help? He moved closer to the house.

  Mandy appeared at his side. “What are you doing?”

  “I have to make certain there’s no one inside.” He inched forward, but the heat was intense.

  Mandy grabbed his arm. “No, you can’t go in there. You’ll die.”

  “I can’t stand by and not do something. Listen. Do you hear that?”

  “How can you hear anything but people yelling and the flames crackling? It’s not possible. Trace, you aren’t thinking right.”

  He tore away from her grasp and raced around to the other side of the house. There had to be another door. A window. Mandy followed him. “I’m going in.” He grabbed a rock and broke the glass. Hot air whooshed out.

  “Trace, no. It’s too dangerous.” But she turned, hearing the same thing he did. A call for help.

  “I must.” He used the rock to remove the sharp fragments of glass in the frame then swung his leg through the hole. “Wait here.”

  “If you’re going in there, so am I.”

  He reached through the window and grabbed her shoulders. Shook her hard. “Do as I say. Stay there.”

  He recognized the stubborn set of her chin. “Please, Mandy. I couldn’t bear it if you got burned.” A thousand pictures filled his mind. The fire that had destroyed his home. Killed his parents, Cora screaming as he pulled her from the flames. “Please wait.” He dropped his hand. He must get to that voice. He crouched low and pushed into the smoke and heat.

  He made his way through the room, following the call for help, reached a doorway, and paused. The fire raged to his left, sizzling angrily as bucket after bucket of water reached it. For a moment, the flames died back as if beaten then roared to life again. He turned to his right, down a hall. Through the smoke he made out another doorway and crept through it.

  “Help me.” A woman saw him, grabbed an arm, and dragged him forward. “My husband. He isn’t moving.”

  A man lay on the floor.

  “What happened?”

  “He fell. Banged his head on the dresser.”

  Trace grabbed the unconscious man’s shoulders and, keeping low, dragged him toward the door.

  The woman whimpered, rooted to the floor.

  “Follow me. I’ll get you out.”

  She moaned, but her feet didn’t leave the spot.

  “Lady, we have to get out.”

  “I’ll get her.” Mandy crawled past him, pulled the woman to her knees, and pushed her toward the doorway.

  “I told you to stay.”

  “I never agreed, did I?”

  He pulled the man; she pushed the woman until they were back near the window. He wanted to be angry at Mandy, but he couldn’t. All that mattered was getting the four of them out safely. Someone jumped through the window and grabbed the injured man. Many hands reached forward to take him.

  Mandy pushed the woman forward, and hands pulled her to safety.

  The heat grew intense, the smoke so thick Trace’s eyes streamed with tears. Between the tears and th
e smoke he couldn’t see Mandy. Couldn’t see the window. “Mandy,” he rasped. “Where are you?”

  She coughed. Couldn’t stop.

  He reached out. Connected with her arm. Dragged her to where he knew the window had to be. Flames licked overhead, crackling like the laughter of the devil. “Get out.” He didn’t let go of her arm until he felt another hand, heard a voice saying, “We got you.” The hands ripped her from his grasp.

  The noise overhead roared. Flames surrounded him. He coughed, choking. His eyes streamed.

  Then everything went black.

  Chapter 9

  Mandy stared up into the sky, her lungs searing from the smoke she’d inhaled. Joanna bent over her on one side, Glory on the other.

  Joanna’s hands examined her, stroked her hair. “You’ll survive.”

  “I know you’re crazy,” Glory said, her voice heavy with concern despite the anger she tried to convey. “But I never thought I’d see you dive into a burning building.”

  Mandy gasped, tried to speak but discovered her voice had disappeared in the pain of a burned throat. She reached for Joanna’s shirt front and pulled her close, barely able to focus through the sting of her eyes. “Trace?” She mouthed the word. “Is Trace okay?”

  “He’s fine.” Joanna was the world’s worst liar.

  Trace wasn’t fine. Panic stole her strength, and she lay like an old rag. But she must find him. She tried to sit up. Got as far as one elbow. Ignored her dizziness, her seared throat, her ineffectual lungs.

  Where is he? She begged Joanna silently.

  Joanna nodded to a group of men beyond them.

  Help me. She appealed to both sisters.

  Joanna and Glory exchanged a look.

  “I know how I’d feel if it were Levi,” Glory said and pulled her to her feet. She’d have never made it without their help. With a sister on either side, Mandy stumbled through the men.

  The men parted. Trace lay on the ground.

  “Trace.” The groaned word ripped her frightened heart every bit as cruelly as it scraped up her damaged throat.

  She jerked from her sisters’ arms and fell to her knees beside Trace’s inert body. With arms so weak and trembling she didn’t recognize them as her own, she pressed palms to his chest. A cry of relief escaped when she felt it rise. He was alive.