“May Ann Jeffries! What have your mother and I been tellin’ ya ’bout bitin’?”
May hung her head, large tears forming in her blue eyes.
Eyes so much like her mother’s. Rolf sighed. May tugged so at his heartstrings that he often had difficulty disciplining her like he knew he should. But this biting had gone on long enough. He cleared his throat pointedly, waiting for her reply.
She tucked a strand of straight white-blond hair behind her ear and mumbled, “No bitin’.”
Rolf scratched his bearded face, reminding himself not to smile, as she turned the full force of her blue eyes on him, using her tears to full advantage.
“He took my doll, Pa!” She tossed an angry glare at Bobby. “And he wouldn’t give it back!”
“No! I—” Bobby’s protest fell dead at the searing expression Rolf turned on him.
Satisfied to have their full attention, Rolf looked back to his daughter. “May, I don’t care what he did to ya; it’s never all right to bite. Ever. You’ve been told this afore and now I’m tellin’ ya again. No bitin’!”
Her lower lip trembled. “Yes, Pa.”
“Now you need to go say sorry to your brother.”
She sighed. “Yes, Pa.” Feet dragging and her doll dangling by one arm, May walked over to Bobby. “I’m sorry, Bobby. I shouldn’t a bit ya.”
Bobby folded his arms and looked at his father.
“Go on, son.”
“Fine. I forgive you. But it better not happen again!”
“Bobby!” Rolf dipped his chin, indicating his displeasure.
“Sorry,” Bobby mumbled.
“Right. Now you two go on and play nicely together.”
“Can we go back inside, Pa? I could read to May. An’ we could wrap up in the quilt.”
“Sure, just be careful that you don’t get too close to the stove. And no adding any more wood until I get in there. I don’t want you to get burnt.”
“Yes, Pa!” Both children ran for the door, their fight immediately forgotten.
Rolf watched them in wonder, shaking his head over the ease with which children forgave. “We could all learn a lot from the forgiveness of children, John,” he told his other son.
John nodded thoughtfully, watching his siblings as they raced across the yard to the house.
“Nicki, hello,” Brenda greeted as she dropped from the saddle, wrapping her mount’s reins around the top rail of the newly erected corral.
Diablo sniffed at the horse’s hooves, shying away with ears laid low when the horse stamped one foot.
“Brenda, it’s so good to see you,” Nicki responded warmly, truly meaning her words.
“I’m right sorry it’s taken me so long to make it over for that visit we talked about. I been meanin’ to get here for a couple o’ weeks now. I see you have a puppy. Bobby and May would just love to have one, but Rolf put his foot down.” She chuckled, “I have to say I was pretty thankful he did. The last thing I need is one more thing to take care of.”
Nicki stooped to scoop the puppy into her arms. “Yes, he was a gift to Sawyer from William.” She ruffled the pup’s ears roughly. “And he is a menace! We named him Diablo after he dug a hole through the wall of the soddy not once, but twice!”
“Oh, my.” Brenda reached out to pet the puppy on its head. “Be ye a little devil, mite?”
Diablo glanced up at Nicki and then swiped at her cheek with a long pink tongue.
Nicki chuckled as she dodged the doggy kiss. “Trust me when I say, yes, he is. Please come on in. I’m so glad you could come.”
Brenda looped her arm through the handle of her basket as the two women made their way indoors.
“My, it’s so nice and warm in here,” Brenda commented as Nicki set the puppy down and put water on the stove for tea. “Our house be so bloomin’ cold that the young-uns huddle right around the stove all day long. I can’t seem to get a thing done without steppin’ on one o’ them.”
Nicki knew how small Brenda’s place was. “I can’t imagine living in a house this size with three children. Some days I wonder if I won’t go crazy before spring gets here. And I only have one, plus a puppy.” She cast a teasing glare at Diablo, who’d flopped down in front of the stove. “A very devilish puppy.”
Brenda chuckled and set to pulling out her freshly baked gifts. She waved a hand in Nicki’s direction as she responded, “The size don’t bother me so much, but the cold is gettin’ to me. I feel for the children. We didn’t know ’twould get so cold in these parts. When we built, everybody we spoke to told us that winters here were fairly mild, so we built with that in mind and now....” She shrugged. “Well, winter’s almost over and come spring first thing after we plant our crops I’m gonna hold Rolf to his promise o’ soddin’ the outside o’ the house. Next winter we will be warm!”
Brenda’s enthusiasm tugged the corners of Nicki’s mouth upwards. “Sí. This winter has been uncharacteristically cold. I think we’ve all been surprised by it. Ron just told me yesterday that he hasn’t seen our cattle looking this poorly since he’s been working for us.”
Nicki picked up her darning as they continued to talk, and the rest of the afternoon passed in pleasant conversation. Nicki relaxed for the first time in several days, temporarily forgetting her worries about the ranch and Sawyer’s future.
Sawyer had long since awakened and was playing with his few toys in front of the stove when Brenda glanced out the window and gasped. “Oh my, look at how late it is. Why, it be most dark. I must hurry home, Nicki. If the poor children have to eat somethin’ that Rolf cooked, I’ll have a mutiny on my hands.”
Nicki rose to hug her friend. “It’s been so good to visit with you. I didn’t notice how late it was, either. I need to get Sawyer some dinner, although,” she chuckled, “you brought enough food with you to feed the whole town, so I won’t have to fix much.”
Brenda smiled, waving a hand, indicating it had been her pleasure, and headed for the door.
“Brenda, wait.” Nicki hurried to pull a large quilt from under her bed. “I want you to have this. It isn’t much, but maybe you could hang it on the wall and it would help keep the house a little warmer. I wish there was more I could do.”
Tears pooled in Brenda’s eyes. “Thank you,” was all she choked out, but Nicki knew that a mere thanks did not accurately express what was in the woman’s heart. She would feel the same if Sawyer was cold all the time, and someone had done something similar for her.
“De nada.” Nicki blinked back her own tears as she hugged her friend once more. “Come again when you can.”
“Ya can count on that. It’s been so nice to visit with another woman.”
At that moment Nicki realized just how good she had it with Tilly coming every day. She waved as she watched Brenda mount up and ride out of the yard, thankful for the woman’s friendship.
William had just finished dowsing the back wall and a portion of the roof with kerosene when the door to the house squeaked on its hinges as someone entered the little cabin. He froze and suppressed a groan of aggravation as he glanced in both directions. There was no cover here. If someone should come around the side of the house there would be no place for him to hide. Yet there was nothing they would need back here and he could tell by the expanse of untouched snow that no one had been behind here since the last snow, which had been several days ago. It wasn’t likely he would be found if he just stayed put.
He debated what to do. If he just did it quickly, surely whoever had entered the cabin would be able to get out. Yet with them this close, he would have less chance of escape. Everyone around these parts knew everyone else, and it wouldn’t suit for him to have to explain why one of the Jeffries thought they had seen him running away from their house right before it burned to the ground.
He glanced again at his escape route. He had to run a hundred feet before he would have any cover at all, and even then he would need to make it to the road before he would be safe, for in the snow h
is trail would be clearly visible. Anyone who came to the back of the house would be able to see it and follow him. And not until he got to the road, where many people and carriages passed every day and his footprints blended into the slush, would he feel safe.
Sinking down to wait for whoever was inside to go back to the barn, he sighed. It wouldn’t do for him to get caught. He had come too far for that. His neck itched, and he scratched at it, trying not to imagine the prickly feel of a noose.
He sat for a long time. Standing up every now and then he paced quietly, rejuvenating circulation to his numbing extremities, his patience wearing thin.
It was getting dark when he heard a horse trot into the yard. He decided that he was tired of waiting. Maybe in the chaos of the new arrival and surprise of it all, he would be able to get away. Besides, it was almost totally dark now and that would help to hide his trail.
He struck a match, tossing it up onto the roof, and hesitated only a fraction of a second to watch as the flames licked greedily at the dry wood and kerosene. Then he vanished into the night.
Brenda pulled her horse to a stop and slid to the ground, leading it into the barn. Rolf glanced up from where he was mending a harness, and Brenda smiled. “Hello, Love.”
He stood and gave her a quick kiss. “Did ya have a nice visit?”
“Wonderful.”
Taking the reins from her, he led the horse into a stall.
“Where are Bobby and May?” she asked John, who sat mending a separate harness.
“May bit Bobby and they fought. Then Pa made them ’pologize. Then they got cold and wanted to go read in the house and Pa said they could, so long as they din’t mess with the stove none.”
Brenda turned to Rolf, who busied himself with checking her horse’s hooves. “Did you spank her this time?”
Rolf looked sheepish. “It’s those eyes o’ hers, Bren. I can’t hardly take it when she looks at me the way she does. I tell you I’m gonna have to get me a buffalo gun when the girl comes to age. The boys won’t be able to keep away!”
Brenda winked at him. “Well, first we have to stop her from bitin’ every boy that upsets her, or none will be wishin’ to court her ’tall.”
Rolf chuckled, a slow rumble that started in his chest and worked its way into a full-blown laugh. He paused, wiping his eyes, as he glanced out the barn doors toward the house. His face transformed into a mask of horror. “Dear Lord, have mercy!”
Brenda’s heart seized in fear at Rolf’s cry of terror.
He lurched out of the stall and sprinted toward the house. She spun around.
Dancing eerily on the snow outside was the orange-yellow glow of fire! “Lord God Almighty, help us!” She clutched at her throat, her words coming out in a choked exclamation.
“Brenda! Buckets! Water!” Rolf was already halfway across the yard before Brenda could make her feet move. But as she launched into action, her mind was frozen on one thought alone: My little ones! Jesus! My little ones is in there!
Rolf plunged through the door of the house. Smoke billowed out in a thick cloud, and vivid orange sparks painted streaks against the black velvet sky.
Her heart stuttered, then resumed in quadruple time. “Dear God, help him!” she prayed as she snatched up the watering buckets that hung by the door.
John tumbled out of the barn behind her, and she shoved two buckets into his hands, pushing him toward the orange reflection of the watering trough. She ran after John with her own buckets, all the while praying that Rolf would make it out of the house with May and Bobby alive.
A lifetime seemed to pass as Brenda and John filled up their buckets and raced toward the blazing house. The flames were now starting to lick at the front of the dwelling, and a sob caught in Brenda’s throat. There would be no saving the house. But the house was the least of her worries.
Bobby stumbled out the door, and Brenda cried out in relief. Dropping her buckets she ran and clutched him to her chest in a fierce hug. “Be ye okay, son?”
He nodded, his breaths coming in ragged gulps. “I tried to get her, Ma. She fell asleep while I was readin’ to her, and I couldn’t lift her.” Tears marked white trails through the grime covering his face.
“Hush, now. Papa’s gonna get her. He’ll be out any second now.” Her eyes remained fixed on the door, as she prayed her words would not be a lie. “Dear God, Dear God, Dear God...”
John threw his water on the roof and headed back for more. Still the door remained empty. The house was fully engulfed in flames. What mattered now was to see Rolf and May coming out the door. But it had been too long. She lifted her face to the heavens. “Oh God!” The cry was a guttural scream.
Rolf stumbled out of the house with May clutched to his chest. May’s arms flopped limply behind her, and something in Rolf’s expression chilled Brenda to the core. He staggered a few more steps, then sank down onto his knees. “Forget the house!” His voice was hoarse. “Help me with her.”
Brenda knelt down at May’s head, feeling more than seeing that the boys were huddled over them. Her heart hammered in her throat. Her hands fluttered helplessly around the still form of her child. What should she do? “Jesus! Jesus!” She couldn’t decide where to settle her hands.
“May, honey! MAY!” Rolf’s voice was terror-edged. There was no response from the little, pale, limp form. He pressed his cheek close to her mouth. “She’s not breathin’!”
“May,” Brenda pleaded, pressing down panicked sobs, “wake up, honey. We need you to wake up!” Her hands fluttered helplessly to a stop, cupped around the little blond head. What should she do? “John, there be a blanket. The saddle roll.” She gestured toward the barn. “Get it. Quick!”
“May! May, honey. It’s Papa. Can ya hear me, darlin’?” Rolf shook May’s unresponsive shoulder. Her head flopped over to one side, and even in the macabre glow of the shimmering flames, Brenda could see her face was ashen gray.
She gasped and sat back onto the cold ground. “Oh God, dear God. No! Not my May. Please, Lord don’t take her from me now. Jesus! Jesus!” Brenda clutched her head and rocked back and forth, silent sobs shaking her body.
The flames crackled hungrily, devouring the remaining walls of the little shanty in a final spray of orange sparks.
“Dear Jesus! What have I done?” Rolf lifted his face to the sky. His shoulders heaved, but he made no sound. Hands clasped behind his neck, he rocked forward and let his head fall gently on May’s little chest. But quickly he lifted his head, again patting her face and shaking her unresponsive shoulder.
Helpless anguish flooded Brenda’s soul as she watched, one hand pressed over her mouth.
John returned with the blanket and, through the haze of slow motion around her, Brenda noticed things she would never forget as long as she took breath.
Rolf finally giving up his useless attempts to revive her baby. The way John’s chin shook as though with palsy as he meticulously laid out the blanket and gently lifted May’s lifeless little body onto it. The way Bobby sat, forearms resting on his knees, staring blankly at the engulfing flames, silent tears coursing down cheeks that reflected the flickering, golden-orange horror. Rolf on his knees, face buried in his lap, his shoulders heaving with wracking sobs, but making no sound whatsoever. And May. Her sunshine in winter. Blue eyes closed forever, face ashen gray, lying unmoving on the brightly colored quilt, the breeze gently lifting her white-blond hair as the raging flames danced eerily on the snow all around them.
Brenda turned and retched onto the snow. She would never forget that, either. The terrible, gut-wrenching pain that engulfed her. Pulling, tearing, and ripping at her heart.
12
The scent of smoke alerted him first. Jason raised his nose, testing the air, and frowned. This was not just the smoke from a cookfire. It was too acrid, and there was too much of it. He turned to face the wind and began to follow his nose, leading his prisoner’s horse behind. It wasn’t long until he could see an orange glow tinting the night sky an
d he stopped, quickly lashing his prisoner to a tree far enough back from the fire that if the brush caught flame, he would be able to make it around and rescue him. After securing the man’s horse, he mounted back up and hurried forward.
Something crashed through the brush in the darkness to his right and his horse shied, snorting and pawing. Jason pulled up for a moment, listening, but heard nothing but the angry cursing of his captive. Attributing the sound to a rattled buck racing to escape the fearful scent of the fire, he turned and moved on toward the glow.
Coming out of a small stand of evergreens, Jason took in the scene at a glance and urged his mount into a gallop. A hundred yards ahead of him flames engulfed a cabin and as far as he could see, there was no one fighting it. They might all be trapped inside!
He wracked his brain, trying to remember from his conversations with Ron who might live here.
He pulled his horse to a skidding halt in the yard, but even as he started to slide to the ground, he could see the reason no one was fighting the fire. A family clustered around the still form of a child. Dear Jesus, give them comfort. The prayer came to mind even as he launched into action, picking up the buckets scattered in the yard and running for the trough he could see by the barn.
He had made two trips from the trough to the cabin before any of the family seemed to notice him. The older boy joined him at the trough, filling up two buckets of his own and heading for the house. His movements were stilted, and Jason knew from experience that he was acting mechanically. His mind was somewhere else, but he felt the need to be doing something.
They were fighting a losing battle. Jason could see that, but he knew that the boy needed to keep his mind occupied for a while longer, so he continued on with his rhythm, moving from trough to cabin and back again, the boy following his lead.
It was well after midnight when they poured the last bucket on the smoldered ruins of the clapboard cabin. They had long since emptied the trough and had been pumping water from the well. Jason stepped back, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. The boy’s mother and father had not moved from their places in the snow and Jason knew that he had to get them up and moved to someplace warm. The temperature had dropped quickly after the sun went down, and both of them were shivering visibly, although neither seemed to notice.
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