The roar of the flames sounded like a train and forced those fighting the incredible heat to shout at each other just to be heard. Bridget looked quickly around and saw the miners had formed two bucket lines. They stretched from the front of the Beer Barrel all the way down to the creek below.
At least fifty men in each line, they went about their chore with quiet determination. A full bucket was passed from hand to hand up to the wall of fire, then the empty was returned to the creek for more.
With a sharp stab of fear Bridget realized that Jacob, now in his shirtsleeves, was at the head of one of those lines. Every time a bucket was handed to him, he stepped close to the flames and threw a small wave of water onto it. Silhouetted against the backdrop of blazing light, he moved surely, darting again and again into the mouth of the fire.
Bridget stood transfixed for a moment. Everything around her, the noise, the heat, the overpowering stench of burning wood, faded away as she concentrated her thoughts solely on Jacob's safety. One misstep, one careless move, and he could be swallowed by the flames. She closed her eyes for a moment and muttered a fervent prayer.
Then Jessie put her head down against Bridget's shoulder. "Hot, Bridget. Hot."
"I know, love," Bridget shouted as she once more began to move forward. Reluctantly she looked away from Jacob, knowing there was nothing she could do now to help him.
The fire was so advanced, there seemed to be no hope of saving the Beer Barrel. Already, small curls of flame danced on the shingle roof, confirming the spreading of the blaze.
Bridget looked past the men and their lines to the MacElroys' store. Someone was there, trying to wet down the building. Quickly she hurried forward.
Emmaline turned as Bridget stepped up onto the boardwalk. The older woman was covered with falling ash. Streaks of dirt and mud covered her face, and her plain white nightrail was shredded along the hemline. Her bare feet were stuck into a too-large pair of her husband's shoes.
Bridget set Jessie down beside her on the wide boardwalk, told her to stay put, and picked up an extra bucket. Emmaline MacElroy stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, then nodded her thanks. "I'm tryin' to wet the place down so's it won't go up with any flying sparks!"
“What about the roof?" Bridget shouted back.
"Mr. Mac is up there now." Emmaline turned away and sloshed her bucketful of water against the side of her store.
Bridget stepped down and filled her bucket in a nearby horse trough. Hurrying around to the side of the building that faced the Beer Barrel, Bridget turned her face away from the blast of heat and threw her pailful of water on the alreadyblistering wood. The almost-engulfed saloon stood less than five feet away.
It wouldn't be enough, she knew. There wasn't a chance that she and Emmaline alone could save the store, but still, they had to try. She hurried back around to the front of the building to the trough again. Just as she bent to dip it in the water, though, the bucket was pulled from her hands.
Surprised, Bridget looked up into the broad, smiling face of Cherry Tuttle's bartender. Behind him stood several more men and a few of the girls from the Lazy Dog. There were even some women she'd never seen before. All of them dressed in short black skirts, high heels, and brightly colored shirts.
Someone grabbed her arm. Bridget turned again to find herself face to face with Cherry. The woman grinned, and Bridget stared as Cherry's bright red hair seemed to glow in the weird light.
"We'll start a bucket line for the store!" Cherry shouted.
Just then, Emmaline staggered around the corner, fighting for breath. When she saw Cherry and the other girls, she stiffened.
"We're here to help, Mrs. Mac," Cherry called to her.
Emmaline MacElroy looked at Cherry for a long minute, then moved her gaze on to the bartenders and the girls lining up behind them. The small crowd stood silently under her appraisal.
Bridget held her breath and watched Emmaline MacElroy. Her usually neat hair hung in straggling wisps around her flushed face, and her chest moved laboriously for air. Bridget watched the woman's jaw work and found herself hoping that the stiff-minded old biddy would have enough sense to accept the help these people offered.
Finally after what seemed an eternity, Cherry walked the few steps to Emmaline and stopped right in front of her. Holding out her hand, Cherry shouted, "Give me your bucket. Mrs. Mac! You take a rest for a bit.”
Emmaline didn't say anything. Instead, she slowly lifted the empty wooden bucket and handed it over to the garishly dressed woman opposite her. Cherry patted the woman's shoulder, then turned to face her friends.
With the calm determination of an army general, she began to shout orders. "Harriet, Dottie – and you, Tina. You all wet down some blankets and go on up to the roof with Mr. Mac." As the women started moving, Cherry added unnecessarily, "As soon as you see a spark land, you beat it out. Don't let a one get by ya, or this place'll go up like a tinderbox."
They hurried into the store to get the blankets they needed, and as they passed Bridget. Tina paused and gave Bridget a quick smile. The girl's bruises were almost gone now. Bridget prayed that she and all the rest of them would come through this night unscathed.
"Joe!" Cherry shouted to the bartender Bridget had recognized. "You and the boys get the line goin'. Soak the side of the store real good."
Bridget glanced at Jessie and was reassured to see the child hadn't moved.
“Bridget –“
She looked up.
Cherry was right beside her. "You and me and the rest of this bunch will stack up the best of Mrs. Mac's things. Get 'em ready to be carried out just in case we can't beat the fire."
Bridget nodded. Emmaline wearily pushed herself to her feet, and though she still looked exhausted, there was at least a flicker of hope in her eyes now as she went to work with Cherry and the girls of the Lazy Dog.
Through the night, the town of miners, gamblers, "decent” citizens and “fallen” ladies battled side by side against a common enemy. Volunteers from the restaurant ran up and down the narrow road carrying huge coffee pots and trays of sandwiches to the workers. When one body dropped with exhaustion, there was always another ready to step in.
Just as the coming dawn began to streak the lightening sky with the pale colors of morning, the battle was won.
The Beer Barrel Saloon lay in ruins. Its wooden shell, now burned and fallen in on itself, was nothing more than a huge pile of smoldering, charred beams. With the growing daylight, the tired crowd of people stood on the edges of the blackened mess, too exhausted to feel more than a passing satisfaction that they'd at least managed to contain the inferno to one building.
Though one side of the MacElroys' general store was scorched and blistered, it had survived. Mr. Mac led a triumphant march down from the roof, laughing and talking with the women who'd worked beside him all night. Mrs. Mac stood on the boardwalk looking at the remains of the Beer Barrel and shuddered to realize how close they'd come to losing everything.
Bridget watched uneasily as Emmaline MacElroy suddenly walked to Cherry's side. Now that the worst was over, would the woman revert to her old self?
"Cherry," Emmaline started softly, "I, uh –“
"That's all right, Mrs. Mac," Cherry offered, "I understand."
"No, you don't.” Emmaline's voice grew louder, more determined. Several of the people closest to them turned to watch. Emmaline held her hand out. "I thank you, Cherry. You and all of your… friends. But for you, my husband and I would have lost everything."
Bridget moved her gaze from the older woman's severe, plain face, now smudged and streaked with dirt and ash, to Cherry's frankly amazed expression. As the two women shook hands solemnly, Bridget heaved a relieved sigh and was surprised to note that she'd been holding her breath.
“Well, who would have thought it?"
Bridget heard a deep voice right behind her and turned and threw her arms around Jacob's neck. Pressing herself closely against him, she smiled into his sho
ulder as his arms tightened around her. He smelled of smoke and soot and sweat, and Bridget hugged him harder, thankful beyond words that he'd survived the night safely.
"Are you all right?" he asked as he pulled back to look at her.
"Yes, fine," she answered and rubbed at a slash of soot running across his cheek.
"Is Jessie asleep in the store?"
"No," Bridget said and turned toward the spot where she'd put the child. "She's right there…" But she wasn't. Quickly Bridget pushed away from Jacob and scanned the long boardwalk. Her gaze moved over the crowd, instinctively searching for a small, huddled form.
Nothing.
Bridget stepped inside the store, her heart in her throat. Moving along the shelves and behind the counters, she looked behind flour sacks, under the counters, on the stacks of blankets. No Jessie.
Jacob came up beside her, his features grim. “Where is she, Bridget?"
She had to force herself to meet his gaze. "I don't know, Jacob. God help me, I don't know." Her hand flew up to cover her mouth in a desperate attempt to curb the hysterical scream that threatened. Her eyes moved unceasingly back and forth over the store, even though she'd just looked and found nothing. Her breath came in short, hard gasps, and she felt her chest tighten uncomfortably. Lord, what had happened to the child?
Jacob pulled her against his chest, squeezed her fiercely, then set her back. "It's all right, Bridget," he ground out, “we'll find her. She can't have gone far."
"Oh, my God, Jacob –“
"Stop it!" He grabbed her shoulders. "Don't borrow trouble. She's just wandered off. That's all." Jacob forced a smile he didn't feel. "Come on now, let's find her."
He crossed the floor quickly, went through the double front doors, and stepped onto the boardwalk, Bridget right behind him.
"What is it?" Cherry asked after one look at their faces.
"It's Jessie," Bridget said. "She's gone missin'."
The other woman's expression tightened, then she smiled stiffly. "Well, then, we'll just have to round 'er up, won't we?"
"I'll go back down to our place," Jacob said. "She might have gone home."
Bridget couldn't bring herself to look at him. He hadn't said anything yet, but she knew without being told that this was all her fault. How could she have let this happen? Dear heaven. Nothing should have kept her from protecting that little girl. How could she have gotten so wrapped up in fighting the fire that she'd neglected Jessie? She wouldn't blame Jacob if the man wanted to horsewhip her.
"Fine," Cherry agreed. "We'll look into the places at this end."
The people standing behind her nodded their agreement.
"I'll look behind the store," Mrs. Mac said softly. She laid a hand briefly on Bridget's shoulder. "We'll find her. Don't you worry."
"Hell, yes, we'll find her," Cotton added as he marched up to the concerned crowd. "It ain't that big a town!"
Murmured agreements swept over the people gathered before the store. Here and there were whispered conversations, discussing just where a child might hide to escape the noise and heat of the fire.
“Well,” Cherry shouted suddenly, getting everyone's attention, "what are y'all standin' around for? Spread out and find Jessie. Now!"
Aided by the early morning light, the people who, only moments before, had been bowed down with fatigue, now moved with determined speed. Splitting off into groups of two or three, they started the search.
Bridget and Jacob stood alone on the wide boardwalk. Her mouth was dry, and she felt every beat of her heart pounding in her ears. Unconsciously, she chewed at her bottom lip until Jacob gently touched her lips with his fingers.
"Bridget, we will find her," he said, demanding that she believe him.
She nodded, but kept her gaze from him.
Deliberately he lifted her chin so that she had to look him in the eye. She saw the worry lines etched in his face. She sensed his need to hurry and was surprised when he still stayed beside her.
"She's all right I know it.” Jacob said the words forcefully as if daring the gods to prove him wrong.
"Aye. Of course she is." Bridget stepped away. "Go on, now. Check the cabin."
He nodded silently and backed off the boardwalk, almost reluctant to leave her. At last, though, he turned and ran up the street toward the cabin.
Bridget watched him for a moment and absently noted the voices calling out, "Jessie! Jessica!" Tears pricked her eyes and she fought for air. If anything had happened to that little girl, Bridget would never forgive herself.
God, what had happened to her?
The minutes raced by as she went from one building to the next, looking behind crates and under steps. Anywhere a small child would fit, Bridget inspected it.
She searched for almost an hour and there was still no sign of Jessie. She knew that she couldn't face Jacob again. She couldn't bear his kindness. Rage would be easier to deal with. That she expected. That she deserved.
When it seemed as though Jessie had disappeared into thin air, Bridget heard a shout from the far end of town. First one man took it up, then the next, passing the good news along until it reached her.
Jessie'd been found.
Hiking her muddy, torn skirt up above her knees, Bridget ran down the rutted road like the hound of hell was chasing her. She paid no attention to the smiling faces turned toward her. Her only concern was to reach Jessie, to hold her tightly and reassure herself that the child really was safe.
From the corner of her eye Bridget noticed Jacob flying down the road from the opposite end. His long legs gave him an advantage, but still Bridget's fear gave her the extra speed she needed to reach the child first.
A huge, burly miner with a full beard and hands as big as skillets held Jessie to him with gentle tenderness. The little girl looked no bigger than a kitten beside the man, but she didn't seem the least bit afraid.
Bridget stood at the top of the incline and watched the unlikely pair climb up from the creek. The boulders of guilt that had been lying on her chest vanished, and Bridget sucked in great gulps of air. Tears ran freely down her cheeks even as her grin felt as though it would split her face in two.
She felt Jacob's presence when he stepped up behind her, but even when he laid his hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, she didn't turn around She couldn't take her eyes off the filthy little girl who was almost back in her arms.
Only a few more steps. Suddenly Jessie turned toward the waiting crowd. Her tiny face was covered with soot. Her braids were a tangle, and her new white nightgown was absolutely black, but Bridget thought the child had never looked lovelier.
Then Jessie spied Bridget and her father. A wide smile lit up her face as she opened her arms to Bridget and crowed, “Mama!”
Bridget sprung forward and grabbed the little girl. As she held Jessie tightly against her, Bridget whispered soft prayers of thanksgiving. She felt Jessie's sturdy little arms go around her neck and squeeze. In her mind, she heard again and again the small voice shouting "Mama!” Unreleased sobs tightened her chest and strangled her breathing.
Absently she noted that the crowd surrounding her had burst into applause. Through the slits of her half-shut eyes, she saw the satisfied grins adorning the dirty faces of the tired gathering. Relief so sharp it was almost painful swept through her, and she felt her knees weakening.
Then Jacob put his arms around her, pulling her and Jessica into a rock-hard embrace. Gratefully, she leaned into him, her arms still locked around Jessie, drawing on his quiet strength. She felt the touch of his lips against the top of her head, heard the hammering of his heart under her cheek, and knew that she never wanted to leave him.
Everything she'd always dreamed of, she held in her arms. The man she loved and her child.
She squeezed her eyes shut and ignored the fall of tears. Her child. The little girl nuzzled Bridget's neck tiredly, and she sighed in contentment. She would never be able to let Jessie go.
#
> Bridget didn't want to leave the loft. She wanted to stay right there beside the sleeping child and watch her. She wanted to enjoy watching the steady rise and fall of the little chest, to hear the soft, sleep-mumbled words that always accompanied Jessie's dreams.
"Bridget?"
Jacob's voice was soft and hushed. She turned toward the loft ladder and saw his face appear above the top rung. "Is she asleep?"
Bridget nodded and held her index finger to her lips.
Jacob smiled. "Are you coming down now?"
She frowned slightly and glanced at Jessie. She hadn't stirred. Quickly she moved to the ladder and stared down at Jacob. "Will you hush? You'll wake her."
He reached out and grabbed her hand. "I'll hush if you'll come down."
"I just want to stay a while," she whispered.
He shook his head "She's fine, Bridget. She's not going anywhere."
What was wrong with him? Bridget thought. Didn't he understand how close they'd come to losing her? "I only want to be here if she wakes. To let her know she's safe."
"She knows that." Jacob tugged slightly at her hand, tilted his head, and gave her a half smile. "Now who is it who's not giving the child room to grow?"
She pursed her lips together. That was like him to be sure, throwing her own words back at her. “This is different, man. We might have lost her today."
“Yes, but we didn't, and your sitting up with her all afternoon won't accomplish anything." He moved his thumb across her palm. "Now, come downstairs, Bridget. I’d like to talk to you before you fall asleep on your feet."
She tossed a glance over her shoulder at Jessie. He was right, she knew, but still, she'd only just discovered today how it felt to be at the mercy of a whim of fate. Bridget understood now Jacob's rigid desire to control all of Jessie's actions. If there was any way she could manage it, Bridget would wrap the little girl in a web of safety to protect her all her life.
Mountain Dawn Page 22
