by Lily Graison
“What? No welcome home, brother? No, I missed you?”
Morgan laughed and folded his hands behind his head. “Just had a lady in here claiming to be kidnapped by outlaws. Any idea what she’s talking about?”
Colt grinned and grabbed the vacant chair, turning it to straddle the seat. “Of course I know. I’m the one who took her from them.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Morgan laughed and gave him an amused look. “Wouldn’t be the fact that she was young, blonde and quite fetching to look at that prompted you to take her from outlaws, would it?”
“No, although if I’m honest, the thought of kidnapping her myself from that bank did cross my mind. Whereas I had sense enough not to, Virgil didn’t.”
“So her stories true, then?”
“Probably. What exactly did she say?”
Colt listened to Morgan with half an ear. He knew what Sarah’s story would be but was a bit shocked she left his name out of it. When he saw her walk toward the jail and enter, he was almost positive she’d gone to turn him in, just like she’d said she was going to do. Knowing she hadn’t and had even gone to the trouble of not mentioning his name, made him rethink the possibility that she hated him.
After getting her a hotel room and buying a few provisions at the mercantile he was ready to put Willow Creek behind him. A quick “hello and goodbye,” to Morgan and he would head back to the ranch, say his goodbyes there and be gone before sunset. Now, being reminded of Virgil and the others, Colt had second thoughts. What if they did come this way? What if they stayed? There wasn’t much in Willow Creek but it was enough for Virgil and his gang to cause a good fuss. Knowing Morgan would be the one to deal with them left a bad taste in his mouth. Knowing Virgil, the old bastard was already there, waiting.
Morgan tapped the top of the desk with his knuckles. “Colt? You listening to me?”
Colt focused his gaze and blinked. “Yeah.”
“Really?” Morgan lifted an eyebrow. “Cause I just asked you what your relationship is with Ms. Hartford and you’ve yet to answer.”
He was tired, all of a sudden, and blew out a long breath before wiping a hand over his face. “It’s complicated.”
“How so?”
“She hates me.”
Morgan laughed. “Well that’s nothing unusual. Most women who know you do.”
“Very funny.” Colt stood and turned toward the door. “I’ll be leaving soon. Tell that new wife of yours I’m sorry I missed her.”
The legs of the chair scraped across the floor when Morgan stood. “You’re not leaving yet, little brother. Not until I find out more about this gang of outlaws you led here.”
Colt wanted to argue but knew he couldn’t. Morgan had to know what to look for in case Virgil did show up and it was up to him to provide him with the details. Sarah was leaving and even though the thought of it caused him to want to slam his fist into a wall until the pain in his chest went away, he had no choice but to wait and see that she was safe. He would wait until she was on that stagecoach before he stepped one foot out of town. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t feel compelled to follow her.
Chapter Thirteen
The light shining into the window was what woke her. Sarah blinked and waited for her eyes to adjust. The room was still dark but flashes of red streaked across the walls. She sat up and looked around the room, puzzled.
Standing, she pushed her hair away from her face and looked out the curtained window. Fire. Her eyes widened as she saw it, watched the flames lick the sky like monstrous tongues of a beast lashing out.
No one was in the street, not an outcry from anyone and she realized, no one knew the marshal’s office was burning.
She turned and ran for the door, fumbled with the lock and tried to get the rusty latch to open. Her eyes burned and she coughed. It was then she realized the door felt warm. Too warm. Backing up, she looked at the doorframe and noticed the light around it. It was too bright to be a lamp. Fear skated up her spine and she turned back to the window, running to it before trying to lift its heavy frame.
There were people in the street now, some shouting and running, and flames were now shooting from the Mercantile shop across the street as well. Someone had set fire to the town.
The sound of a gun being fired repeatedly caused her to jump, the noise startling her, and Sarah tried the window again. It was either nailed shut or it wasn’t meant to be opened. Panic swept through her as she turned back to the door. It was her only way out.
Long minutes of fumbling with the lock with shaky hands and the bolt slid away. The heat was still there as she laid her palm against the door and fear of what lay on the other side made her pause. If the hotel was on fire… She let the thought rattle inside her head before pushing the fear away. She had to get out of the room. She had to know.
Pulling the door open, the light flooded in. The smoke lay heavy near the floor and she coughed again before sticking her head out into the hall. Others were looking out their doors, their voices rising as the sound of the flames danced along the corridor.
A man ran toward her, his face drained of color. “The stairs are on fire. We can’t get out that way.”
Her worst fear had just been realized. She was in a burning building, on the second floor, with no way out.
She stepped back into her room, shut the door and leaned against the wall, one hand clutched at her heart. Thoughts of Colt came to mind and tears sprang to her eyes. She didn’t know if they were from the smoke or from knowing she was about to die without ever telling him how she felt. Even though he didn’t want her, she wanted him to know how much she loved him. Now, he'd never know.
* * * *
The fire to Morgan’s office was out of control. There wasn’t enough water in the entire town to put it out and when the left side of the building fell, Colt cursed and jumped back.
Morgan was off to one side, staring at the building with something that looked like relief on his face. He turned toward him and the expression changed in an instant. “The hotel.”
Colt turned to look behind him and his gut clenched. The hotel was on fire, its walls blazing and lighting up the night sky.
Half the town was burning and Colt ran, barefoot, down the road toward the hotel, Morgan’s voice chasing after him. He ignored the screams of the people he’d grown up with, ran past them as they begged for his help as a litany of whispers echoed in his head, running on repeat that Sarah’s in the hotel….
He looked up at the second floor of the building and was relieved to see the glass dark. The building wasn’t engulfed and he thought his heart would burst from his chest when he saw someone lean out one of the windows and yell for help. It wasn’t her and he didn’t know whether to be relieved or more frightened. He didn’t know what room she was in, hadn’t even wanted to know when he paid the clerk for it and wished now, he would have asked.
Reaching the building, he ran onto the wooden sidewalk and opened the front door. “Sarah!” He raised his arm over his face when the heat hit him, the blaze snaking across the lobby to eat away at the main staircase.
He turned and ran, rounded the back corner of the building and found the backdoor open. Someone had used it to escape and he hoped it had been Sarah. He yelled her name again into the darkness and heard someone cough from the tree line. He saw shapes take form.
“There are still a few people up there.” It was the clerk from the day before. He walked into the light and Colt saw his face and clothing covered in soot. His pants legs were burnt and the skin on his legs looked red and blistered. “I couldn’t get to all of them.”
Colt searched those people around the tree line, looking for Sarah. “Sarah Hartford… is she here?”
“I’m not sure.” The clerk called her name but no one spoke up.
Turning, Colt ran into the building, avoiding the flames climbing the walls. He spotted the back staircase hidden behind a large cabinet, the fire dancing across the bottom and took several steps back b
efore running and leaping up onto the stairs. He landed hard, his knee slamming into the edge of the steps and he cursed before standing and climbing up the rest.
The door at the top of the stairs was locked and it took several kicks to knock it loose. Smoke billowed into his face the moment it opened.
“Sarah!” The hall was dark, smoke filling the corridor and making it hard to breathe. He coughed, lifted the collar of his shirt to cover his mouth and nose, and yelled her name again.
Most of the doors were closed and he looked inside each room when he came to them. Near the end of the hall, he heard a faint cough and his heart nearly exploded with relief. “Sarah!”
He opened the door to his left and saw a woman clutching a bed sheet to her chest. Her eyes were wide, frightened, and he held his arm out to her. “Come on, we have to go.”
She hesitated, looked around the room and finally joined him in the hall. He checked three more rooms and the fear clawing at his chest nearly suffocated him. Two more people joined the first lady in the hall and when no one knew Sarah or had seen her, his hands started shaking.
He turned to those he found and pointed down the hall. “The back stairs are at the end of the hall. The door is off its hinges. You can’t miss it.” He coughed again, his chest aching as he did. He covered his face, blinked until his eyes watered. “They’re on fire but if you want to live, I suggest you jump it. There’s no other way out.”
Turning, he started searching the rooms again, calling Sarah’s name. He stood and listened, ignoring the flames dancing along the walls, straining to hear over the fire roaring in the background. His stomach was twisted into knots, his heart pounding in his chest and the smoke was burning his eyes.
A faint whisper reached him and he turned his head, looking back down the hall. He followed the sound and heard his name, the relief so profound his eyes watered.
She was huddled in the corner, hidden from view of the door by a bureau. She was in her shift, her hair falling down her shoulders, her face covered in soot with tear streaks running over her cheeks.
He sighed in relief, gathered her in his arms and sent up a silent prayer of thanks. “Why didn’t you answer me?” His arms tightened around her and when she made a snuffling noise, he realized she was crying.
“I couldn’t get the window open. I didn’t know what to do.”
“Shhh, It’s going to be all right. I’m going to get us out of here.” He picked her up, held her close to his chest and started back for the stairs. The fire was halfway up now and he knew he wouldn’t come away unharmed. Sarah’s face was buried against his neck, her arms tight around his shoulders. “Hold on, Sarah, and whatever you do, don’t let go.”
He felt her nod against his neck, her grip on him tightening. Colt sucked in a deep breath and knew, when he hit the floor, it was going to hurt like hell.
“Colt!” Morgan’s voice drifted to him through the smoke and the relief at hearing it lifted the weight straining his shoulders.
“At the top of the stairs.” He saw Morgan then, moving on the first floor. Colt looked over the rail and took the first two steps down. “Catch her, and if you drop her, I’ll kick your ass.”
Looking down at Sarah, he tightened his hold and shook her a bit to get her attention. “Morgan is going to catch you. Let go.”
She looked up, her eyes red, cheeks dirty, and kissed him with a hard, punishing press of her mouth.
When she let go, he smiled at her. “Just close your eyes, okay?”
“Okay.”
Holding her over the banister, Colt looked at Morgan and hoped he could catch her. The fall wouldn’t kill her, unless she broke her neck, but it wouldn’t feel good either.
Letting go, his heart stopped until she was in Morgan’s arms. He exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “Get her out of here.”
* * * *
Sarah couldn’t stop coughing. Her chest felt tight and she couldn’t seem to get enough air. She was going to be sick and struggled in Morgan’s arms until he let her go. She made it to the bushes before the supper she’d eaten came back up.
Someone put their hand on her back and it wasn’t until they rubbed small circles between her shoulders blades that she realized the hand was small. She looked up and saw Abigail, the woman she’d met under the trees.
“You’ll be all right,” Abigail said. “Just take deep breaths.”
Sarah did and turned back to the burning hotel in search for Colt. When she didn’t see him come out, she panicked. “Colt’s still in there!”
“Morgan went back in after him. He’ll be fine.” Abigail guided her a few feet away, where the air was clear and sat her on the ground. “Just rest a bit.”
The minutes ticked by slowly and Sarah watched in horror as the building burned. Dark shapes moved beyond the door and her heart was pounding by the time she saw them. She struggled, trying to get to her feet but Abigail’s hand on her shoulder kept forcing her back down.
When they exited the building, both men fell to their knees, coughing. Sarah was able to stand and ran to where they were, Abigail right behind her. “Colt?”
He coughed again and laid his forehead to the ground. “Get away from the building, Sarah.”
His voice was hoarse and he coughed until Sarah felt the pain of it in her own chest. She dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around him and trying to help him up. “Come on, Colt. I can’t lift you by myself.
He stood, staggered and let her lead him away, collapsing near the trees where everyone else sat. He grabbed her the moment he’d steadied himself, pulling her down to sit across his legs, wrapping his arms around her. He never said a word, just sat there and held her, and Sarah let him.
Long minutes ticked by, the flames eating the sky and lighting the entire town. It would probably be seen for miles. Morgan gathered everyone, had them all move to the other end of town. They huddled in small groups in the schoolyard, tears and wails mostly unheard as the shrieks and groans of the burning buildings hissed, cracked, popped, then fell.
“How did this happen?” Sarah looked at Abigail when she spoke, saw her with Morgan, the town Marshal. “Is the marshal your brother?” she asked, remembering Holden mentioning a brother, Morgan, at supper the night before.
Colt nodded and tightened his arms around her. “Yes. He talked me into staying in town tonight. If I hadn’t…”
He stopped talking but Sarah didn’t need to hear the rest of what he would have said. She could see it on his face. If he hadn’t been there, she probably wouldn’t have been either.
A man ran across the street and joined them, walked toward Morgan and ushered him a few feet away to talk in hushed tones. Sarah saw Morgan look toward Colt before he motioned for him to join them.
“Stay with Abigail. I’ll be right back.”
Sarah walked to the woman’s side and sat down on the bench with her. “Does Morgan know who did this?”
Abigail shook her head. “No. All we know is Colt saw three men running through town earlier tonight. He couldn’t sleep and was on the porch and didn’t think anything of it. There’s always people coming and going from the saloon but he saw the flames in the jail a few minutes later. By the time he realized the building was on fire, it was already too late. He woke Morgan and they tried to put the fire out. It was only a few minutes later that the mercantile went up.” She sighed and wrapped the blanket across her shoulders tighter around herself. “When the marshals office started to fall, they saw the hotel burning.”
“So those three men set the town on fire?”
“I don’t know,” Abigail said. “Colt seems to think so and Morgan’s inclined to believe him.”
