by Caroline Lee
The boy swallowed hurriedly and pushed the paper away, but was smiling when he met Matthias’s eyes once more. “I couldn’t sleep! I can’t believe I got to see The Black Ace, and I’m excited that we can open the school soon!”
Matthias tamped down his irritation with the mystery benefactor and crossed to the counter, where he cut himself a piece of bread as well. “I know how you feel. I couldn’t sleep either.”
In fact, he’d been up for most of the night, just lying there with his arms around Abigail. They hadn’t done anything, but she hadn’t pulled away from his embrace either. Last night, here in the kitchen? that had been odd. There’d been that moment where she’d actually comforted him, and while he’d gotten the impression she wasn’t over her whatever it had been, she was willing to put it aside for a bit. So dinner—with Joshua chattering about The Black Ace and Matthias doing his best to answer the boy’s questions about the town and Sunset Valley, Lucas’s ranch—had been awkward, but not as icy as dinners had been for the last week.
“Were you thinkin’ about The Black Ace too?”
Matthias didn’t want to talk about the town vigilante, and how the man must’ve found out about Matthias’s inability to provide for his own family. He didn’t even want to think about it. But with Joshua sitting there looking more excited than Matthias had ever seen, he couldn’t dismiss the topic either.
So he shrugged. “I guess I was thinking about a lot of things.” Thinking about you, kid, and how to make your mother understand I can love you all for yourselves. “I don’t like that someone else had to come up with the money for your mother.”
The boy was finishing the last of his bread, and nodded solemnly. “I know.” He licked the jam off his fingers, looking younger than he should. “But Mama’s right. I’ll figure out who he is—Miss Beulah said I’m good at de-duct-ive reasoning—and then we can pay him back.”
Deductive reasoning, huh?
Had Matthias even known what that had meant when he’d been ten? Had he’d known what that meant when he was twenty?
He chuckled ruefully and dug out a napkin to toss to his stepson. “Here. You might be the smartest kid I know, but you need to work on your manners.”
When the boy caught it with a grin, Matthias had to grin too. “I don’t like being beholden to anyone, and I paid back my loan from Lucas as soon as I could. So if you could put that giant brain of yours to work figuring out The Black Ace’s identity, I’d appreciate it.”
Wiping his hands and around his mouth, the boy nodded primly. “I believe I can manage that.” He folded the napkin with an air of maturity—it was hard to reconcile this kid with the one who’d been licking his fingers moments ago—and pushed away from the table. “And now, Mr. Blake, if you’ll excuse me?”
Trying not to chuckle—or be offended—by the kid’s pretended maturity, Matthias was only just able to stop him before he left the kitchen. “Where are you off to?”
Since Abigail had arrived, he was used to being the first one downstairs, although he often saw Joshua awake early too. But the sun wasn’t even up yet.
Joshua grinned. “To the school house. Now that we have the money, Mother can start classes soon. I’m going to start arranging the desks like we discussed, so we can be ready faster!”
Glancing out the window, Matthias frowned. “It’s still dark outside, Josh. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
But the boy waved away the doubt. “I’m ten, you know. It’s not like I’m going to get lost between here and the school, and besides, if I wait until after breakfast, you’re going to tell me I can’t go ‘til after church. And if I wait ‘til after church, we’re going out to the ranch for dinner. So I have to go now.”
Hmm.
The kid had a point.
Matthias shrugged. “Alright, I’ll tell your mother when she wakes up.” Breakfast alone with her might be kind of nice, actually. “You’ll be back to get washed up before church though, right?”
“I promise! Bye!” Joshua called, the door already swinging shut behind him.
Matthias shook his head as he crossed to set the kettle boiling for coffee. Ten years old, and the kid was already out-logicking him. As he sat down with his bread and jam and the abandoned newspapers, he shook his head ruefully.
When a man’s son is smarter than he is, he can either be ashamed or proud. Matthias figured he’d better start being proud of the kid, because Josh wasn’t anything like he’d expected…
He was better.
Matthias was feeling positive about the future as he flipped through the week-old papers, trying to concentrate. But he kept coming back to the feel of Abigail in his arms, and the smile Josh had given him on the way out the door. Things still weren’t hunky-dory in his marriage, but maybe that was alright. He hadn’t been able to pay the rent on his wife’s schoolhouse, but maybe that was alright too. They had the money now, and he’d make sure to give it to Mr. King at church this morning. The deadline wasn’t up yet, surely.
And one thought kept swirling around in his head, even after he got up to pour himself a cup of coffee: Abigail didn’t think he was a failure. He took a deep breath and stared into his mug. Was he a failure? He couldn’t sit on a horse for any length of time, but he’d built the livery business into a fair success. And he’d saved enough to build this grand house, grand enough to impress even Verrick! And he’d been able to provide for his wife and children.
That had to mean he wasn’t a failure.
Right?
His circular thoughts were interrupted as he heard Abigail upstairs moving around. He smiled, imagining her hazy and rumpled from sleep. If he could convince her that her worries about him and Josh were unfounded, maybe they could go back to the way things had been, and he could actually see her all sleepy and cute. That thought led to another, which led to another, and pretty soon things were getting tight in the trouser department, so he cleared his throat and started to tidy up the table.
By the time she came downstairs and pushed her way through the kitchen door, Matthias had himself under control and was getting the eggs out from the icebox. “I’m thinking pancakes…”
He trailed off as he turned to see her. She was wearing that green dress she’d been wearing the day he’d paraded her through town, and still looked just as lovely. Apparently she hadn’t taken the time to put her hair up either, so the brown strands were hanging down around her shoulders. Just the way he liked it…just the way he’d been imagining her a few minutes ago.
“What?” She was blushing as she smoothed her gown down. “Do I look alright for church?”
“You look beautiful,” he whispered reverently.
Her pink lips opened in a little “Oh”, but no sound came out. He resisted the urge to go to her, to take her in his arms, to show her how beautiful she really was. But since he wasn’t sure what she currently thought of him, he didn’t.
Finally, she cleared her throat and looked away. “No one’s ever called me beautiful.”
“Then I must be the only one with eyes.”
She peeked up at him, and when she saw him grinning, she gave a hesitant smile of her own.
And in that moment, Matthias knew the truth. He loved her. He’d hoped to find love with his wife, and darn well hadn’t expected it after the last week. But last night, even in the midst of her pique, she’d comforted him. She was a good woman, and he was proud to be married to her.
He loved her, and had no idea how to tell her.
But before he could even begin to consider it, she sniffed the air. When she frowned and sniffed again, he shook his head and tried to concentrate.
Was that smoke?
He turned to the stove, but he hadn’t started to cook yet.
Smoke?
That’s when the church bell began to ring—far too early for services—and Matthias’s heart dropped into his stomach. Every resident of Black Aces knew the bell was a call to action, and everyone who’d lived here since King’s bullies h
ad taken over knew what that meant: fire.
And as he met Abigail’s terrified eyes, he knew they were both thinking the same thing.
The schoolhouse!
“Joshua went to the school,” Matthias whispered in horror, not even sure if she could hear him over the bells. “Not even an hour ago. The sun isn’t up!”
And then he stopped talking, because she’d already whirled around towards the front door.
He caught up with her, but didn’t even consider trying to stop her. Instead, they both pounded down the front steps together and along the road. Her hair was streaming out behind her, and from what he could see, her face was strangely blank. For his part, a fear had filled his chest and stomach, a fear he couldn’t describe, wouldn’t describe.
All he knew was that Josh could be in trouble, and he was terrified.
In step, they turned the corner of Blind Avenue and raced north. They passed townspeople he must’ve known, but couldn’t recognize in the pre-dawn light. He couldn’t recognize anything, except the horrible glow in the sky over the schoolhouse. The blood pounded in his ears so loudly he doubted he could’ve heard anything anyhow.
Then, silence, when they saw their fears confirmed.
He reached out and grabbed Abigail’s hand as they slowed. The old school building, brittle and dilapidated already, was consumed in flames. The front steps were still clear; just like most of the other mysterious fires, this one had probably been started in the rear of the building. It was clear there was no way to save it.
And it was clear that if there was a person inside—a small person who thought he was older than he really was—he could be trapped or disoriented or dead already. Matthias had a horrible image of Josh lying on the weak floorboards, his lungs full of smoke. He’d have no way of crawling out of danger himself.
Josh, his heart cried.
“Joshua!” Abigail screamed aloud at the same time, lunging for the burning building.
“No!” He tightened his hold on her hand, swinging her back around. “No.”
She fought him, fought to get away, to head into the fire. Her face was a mask of horror, tears running down her cheeks. It was as if the strange calm she’d shown him moments ago had been washed away with proof of what they’d feared. Now she was a wild woman, intent on getting to her son.
No. He pulled her closer and clasped her cheeks with his hands. Her tears ran over his fingers, and he did his best to make her wild eyes focus on him.
“Abigail. Abigail!” He shook her slightly. “It’s too dangerous.”
“He’s my baby!”
“I know!” God, it was breaking his heart to see her like this. “But we can’t lose you, and you can’t go in there like this.”
Her dress would catch sparks or catch on the frame and they didn’t have time. He squeezed her face—the face of the woman he loved.
“You once said you trusted me. Trust me now. Do not follow me.”
“What?”
And then he was kissing her, hard and desperate. He was kissing her to show her—and himself—what she meant to him. It was over in a blink of an eye, but it was enough.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped away from her, lowered his shoulder, and charged towards the rickety front door of the burning building.
“Josh!”
But behind him, he heard her screaming his name. And as his shoulder slammed into the wood and the inferno closed around him, he knew: Whatever happened in the next minute, she’d been worried for him. It wasn’t quite love, but it was close enough.
Chapter Ten
“Matthias!”
Her scream was still echoing in her ears as her husband disappeared into the burning hell of the schoolhouse. Abigail watched through wide eyes, her mind and her heart not daring to react. Her baby was in there, she just knew it.
And Matthias had run in after him.
Numbly, she sank to her knees in the middle of the dirt street, her hands clutching her chest, her gaze on the open door of the building.
What would happen if he didn’t come out? What would happen if he came out without Joshua? What would happen if they both died in there?
How could she possibly survive that pain?
And then her last hope was burned alive as, with a great explosion of sparks, something fell inside the building. A roof beam, perhaps? Great billows of flames burst out the door, and Abigail knew; they weren’t coming out.
It was too much! She’d survived Cyrus’s fists; she’d ended him and survived being a widow alone; she’d survived the journey west and a new start.
But how could she possibly survive this pain? This pain which felt as if her chest would rip in half?
She screamed.
And when she ran out of breath and didn’t feel any better, she screamed again, Matthias’s name this time. Maybe if she screamed enough, she’d use up all the air in her lungs and pass out and wouldn’t have to feel.
The third scream was Joshua’s name, and it died to a whimper as she stumbled to her feet. Her green dress, which used to be one of her favorites, kept tripping her as she threw herself towards the fire, not thinking clearly. Not thinking of anything except the two men she loved most in the world trapped inside.
Loved? This time her scream was mixed with sobs. No, she couldn’t love Matthias, not now. Not when she didn’t have a chance to tell him!
Hands caught her, the townspeople she didn’t yet know trying to hold her back, but she had to get to them. Maggie was safe, and would be safe! Joshua and Matthias weren’t. But the hands held fast, keeping her from throwing herself into the building, and she sobbed against their strength.
Then, with a mighty roar, the entire roof of the schoolhouse collapsed.
It made such a noise that it covered the choir of angels which surely must’ve sang as a figure burst through the flaming billows of the front door, and rolled into what was left of the garden in the front. He scrambled to his feet, smoke rising from his shirt and vest, and stumbled towards the road.
Abigail found the strength to push herself upright, away from the grasping hands, not even daring to hope. She threw herself towards the figure, praying she saw a bundle in his arms.
But between one heartbeat and the next, although it seemed much longer, they slammed into one another, and sank to the street in a tangle of arms and skirts and half-burned wool. Her brain couldn’t understand, she just frantically patted at him until Matthias met her eyes and grinned wearily.
Joshua was safe in his arms.
The boy was coughing, Matthias was coughing, and Abigail was caught between sobs and laughter.
They were safe! They were alive!
She tried to take her son from him, but Joshua’s hand was wrapped around Matthias’s collar, and she contented herself with snaking her arm around the boy’s neck and planting frantic kisses on his hair.
Then she grabbed Matthias’s cheek and pulled him down into a kiss. It was just as hard as the one he’d given her moments before he’d gone to rescue her baby, but this one was full of promise.
When they pulled apart, he reached up with his free hand to cup her cheek. That’s when she realized she was crying like a baby.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright.”
“You saved him,” she sobbed, tightening her hold on Joshua, whose eyes were closed as he focused on breathing. “You saved my son. You risked your life to save my son, and—”
And I didn’t even think you liked him.
But when she saw the way his expression darkened, visible even in the pre-dawn light, she bit down hard on her words.
“I didn’t save your son, Abigail.” Slowly, as if he was in pain, Matthias straightened away from her, pulling Joshua with him. “I saved our son. I saved him because he’s mine.” Clutching the boy to his chest, he tightened his hold on her cheek, until his fingers were digging into her skin. “He’s mine, and you’re mine. I saved my son because I love him.”
I love him. My son. I love him.
&
nbsp; Abigail choked on whatever feelings were trying to climb up her throat. More sobs? Words of love? Matthias loved Joshua?
She gasped with a certainty that burst into her, sure and pure as the sunrise.
Matthias loved Joshua. Matthias was a good man. He’d accepted Joshua for who he was, despite having to let go his dream of sharing the livery with the boy. He loved Joshua, the way a father should love a son.
This time her tears were joyful as she threw herself against the two warm bodies.
He wrapped his free arm around her, there in their awkward sprawl in the middle of the street, Joshua between them. He pressed his lips against her temple.
“We’re a team,” he murmured. “A family. He’s our son, and Maggie is our daughter, and I love all of you.”
And all she could do was cry. Her baby was alive—her husband was alive!—and she was a sobbing, heaving, grateful-beyond-measure mess.
It took a few of the townspeople to get the three of them to their feet and on their way back to their house—no, their home. The shouts around them told Abigail people were rallying buckets of water, but it wouldn’t do any good; the schoolhouse was finished. And as they stumbled home, none of them willing to let go of the others, she found it didn’t matter. All that mattered in life was here in her arms. The building—and King’s demands, if he really was the one behind this—could burn to ash for all she cared.
When they returned home, Abigail tried to get Joshua to let go of Matthias, to go upstairs to change into clothing not covered in soot. But he only whimpered and held tighter to his stepfather, and she didn’t have the strength to force him, not when her husband turned a blinding smile her way.
So she poured them all large glasses of cool water and sank down beside them on the settee in the parlor. They’d leave marks on the fabric, but right now, it hardly mattered.
“Here, honey,” she murmured, pushing a glass into her son’s hand. “Drink.”
She followed her own advice, and wasn’t all that surprised by the coughing fit which overtook all of them. That led to laughter, and more coughing, and tears from the smoke which still clung to them.
