by Jo Noelle
Julianne’s voice softly mumbled a prayer. “I can never understand Your darkest hour nor comprehend the evil done to You. But because of Your suffering, I know You understand ours.” She’d heard her whole life that Jesus would succor His people in their sorrows. Today, for the first time, she really knew what that meant.
When rested, although her muscles throbbed and her neck ached, Julianne stepped forward again as the women took turns sawing and poking at the wood ceiling as small pieces broke off. After what seemed like hours, Marta reported that another piece of wood, the size of her hand fell from the ceiling.
Julianne pulled another bucket from the shelf and moved carefully toward the work area. When she knelt and began feeling around for the wood scraps to gather, she asked, “How big is the hole now, Marta?”
“As wide as my shoulders. When the boards next to this come out, it will be large enough to crawl through—once the soil is gone.”
Excitement bloomed in that dark room. No one dared try to sleep and miss the moment when the soil would give way and daylight would shine through.
Chapter 19
Hugh Fontaine
When Hugh woke, the quilt was wrapped around his legs. His restless dreams had that little lady next to him, her warmth running along the side of him as the moon ticked from horizon to horizon.
There had been little sleep for a man in his condition. Instead, he stared at the darkness, planned his future, built a house, and said “I do.” He even had a mess of kids with apricot-colored hair all in his imagination before the roosters called for morning.
Last night as he and Julianne shared a bench, Hugh thought they’d come to an understanding. He claimed he was a changed man, and Julianne accepted him. That sweet kiss on his cheek seemed just the signal he needed.
After shaving and dressing in a black suit, Hugh readied his wagon and set out. He got as far as the road and stopped cold. If he turned right, he’d go straight to the church and beg Julianne’s father to have mercy on him and allow him to court his daughter. Reluctantly, he tugged the reins to the left and went toward Creede instead. It was time to sell his business.
His horses seemed jittery. When Hugh came out of his reverie about his future with Julianne, he could smell smoke. He wondered if a mine had caught fire, but most of the mines were in the canyon behind him or farther away to the east. The hazy sky was in front of him.
He could see wafts of smoke as he topped the ridge and headed up another slope that would eventually go down toward Creede. When he rounded the corner at the bottom of the canyon, black smoke and orange flames rose from the Waterin’ Hole Saloon on the northern-most end of town.
Hugh assessed the wind, realizing that the fire would move away from the road to Bachelor and away from his saloon. His business was safely tucked away—for now—up West Willow Creek Canyon. If Creede burned to the ground as it had twice before, his saloon just got a whole lot more valuable with the destruction of so many others. The tragedy before him would create a small fortune of profits at his saloon in just a few days.
Greed tickled his thoughts. If he hung onto his saloon for a couple more months, he would also sell it at an unusually high price later.
He shoved his left hand into his pocket and felt the playing card he kept there. That ace of spades marked his day of decision. Temptation melted away from him and held no sway. Someone else might get a large profit that could have been his, but he’d have his soul pointed in the right direction.
His gaze once again went to the conflagration before him. There were holes in the roof of the saloon, with flames shooting high above them. The rear windows belched sooty smoke. Men were passing buckets of water along a line, and horses pulled several pumpers into position beside the Bonanza Claim Mine’s pumper to douse the flames.
Mr. Anders waved wildly to Hugh. “Get your wagon over here. We’ve got to pull down that saloon. If we don’t, it’s going to torch my place next door.”
Hugh looked at the Silver Stag. He wasn’t sure, but he thought it might be burning already. This little bit of wind would send sparks south in a hurry. He pulled his wagon as close as he dared. The front porch was not yet on fire, and men tied ropes around the structure and then to the wagons. On Mr. Anders’ signal, the wagons pulled the front of the building down. However, it revealed the next saloon was also already burning from the back.
Both buildings crashed and settled, sending a cascade of sparks into the gentle breeze and onto the roof of several nearby buildings. The fire leaped as if set free, gorging itself on the clapboard town.
Mr. Anders climbed into Hugh’s wagon. “We’re going to lose this whole town. Take me to my other saloon.” The Nugget Saloon sat near the southern end and was the finest with expensive trimmings, but like every other building, it was all wood. Wooden bar with intricate moldings and medallions. Wooden tables and chairs with fine padded seats. Wood flooring. It was easy prey for the growing monster behind them, and Mr. Anders looked desperate to save it.
As they traveled to the far end of town, Hugh maneuvered through the crowd that was gathered on the road. Up and down the street, merchants were removing as much inventory as they could stack into a wagon to take to the rail station.
“The way this is spreading, I could lose the Nugget too within the hour. I’ve got Archie bringing some black powder.” Mr. Anders jumped from Hugh’s wagon.
Reverend Bing drove his own wagon next to Hugh’s. Before Callum’s boots hit the ground, he said, “Julianne’s missing. She’s been taken, and we think she came this way.”
Hugh’s heart stopped. His whole world stopped.
When he found his voice, he muttered two words. “What happened?” A secondary thought rose unbidden—he’d kill the man who’d done this. “Tell me!” The suddenly turbulent blood pumping behind his ears muffled the pandemonium around him.
Callum stood beside Reverend Parker as he related the evidence they had—Julianne’s footprints going to the henhouse, a set of much larger prints joining them, scuffling marks in the mud, the basket of eggs spilled, the large footprints walking toward a set of horse and wagon tracks that led toward Creede.
“We just came from the train station. Millie and Mrs. Parker are waiting there to make sure she isn’t taken from town that way,” Reverend Parker added.
There weren’t many men in town who were ignorant about the recently arrived beauty. She would have been noticed for sure. Hugh also knew other women had gone missing and hadn’t been found yet. “Let’s spread out and ask.”
Hugh approached the Nugget to look around. The door was shut tight, so Hugh moved to go around toward the back and enter that way.
As he passed a window, he heard two men talking on the balcony above him. “We’re going to use black powder to blow up Edwin’s restaurant next door and hope that stops the fire before it can lay waste to the Nugget.”
He recognized that nasally voice—Little Archie. Hugh figured they were strategizing about how to save the town, and he was going to continue on when he heard Archie say, “If that doesn’t work, the women will die in the fire, and we’ll have to find new ones. Throw the last woman in there and hope the powder will work.”
The other man answered, “They’s one of those preacher women at the train. I cain’t get our women past ’em into your boxcar in broad daylight.”
“Just dump the woman in the cellar, and I’ll set the charges. We’ll move them tonight.”
“If they live.”
Hugh ran into the street to see who Grady had been talking to, but they’d already left the balcony. Where were the women? He needed to follow whoever that was.
In the reflection of a window, Hugh saw the cowpoke walk past him. He turned just in time to see him walk around the other side of the Nugget. When Hugh rounded the same corner, he ran into the fist of a huge man. Dougal had been waiting for him. Maybe, they’d seen him listening to their conversation. Pain exploded in his jaw, flashes of light stunned his vision, and he dropped
to his knees before blacking out.
Hugh’s eyes peeped open, and his head whirled in circles. Above him stood the cowpoke. Hugh saw the shadowy figure of Death too and wondered how badly he’d been hurt.
The cowboy pointed to the other angel. “Don’t mind him. Death is just going to loll about this town for a space. Might get busy. Might not.” He nudged Hugh’s ribs with the tip of his boot. “Get up. My job was officially over with your change of heart, so I think I’ll just sit a spell over by that root cellar.”
Hugh rolled to his hands and knees, then slowly rose to his feet.
“I said by that root cellar!” The cowpoke stalked off. When Hugh called out to him, he paused and turned, but he didn’t wait. He just waved his hand for Hugh to follow.
Chapter 20
Julianne Parker
Julianne heard the sound of heavy steps on the stairs outside the door. In the time it took her to leap away from the door, keys jingled against each other and one scraped around in the lock. Her heart pounded as she realized that the latest debris from the falling ceiling would be in a heap by the wall. She grabbed the bucket she’d been standing beside, pulled it next to the rubble, and sat. She spread her dress around to cover the evidence. Her heart pounded, not so much from exertion as from fear.
She tried to look around, but she couldn’t see much. Marta had the knife and had been cutting the wood. Hopefully, she’d hidden it.
The light flooding through the doorway was blinding. Julianne blinked to adjust. The acrid smell of smoke burst in with the man. There was a fire, and it was close.
Dougal stood in the open doorway and shoved a woman to the floor near Julianne’s feet. The woman’s dress caught on the door latch, and her body fell across the threshold. Dougal tried to slam the door, but it bounced off the woman’s leg with a sickening crack. The woman screeched.
He growled, swearing fluently of heaven and earth. At first, he tried to kick the woman out of the way, but her dress was good and caught. Then he bent to shove the woman into the room.
This was Julianne’s opportunity. There was no guarantee that they would complete the opening in the roof to break free before they were taken from here. Or if there was a fire, to escape that. But the door was open now, and they could be freed.
Julianne hadn’t realized what she’d decided before her body sprang toward the hunched-over giant She landing on his back and flung her arms around his neck and shoulders. Her momentum and extra weight pushed him into the door, blocking it open. Several women ran past Julianne, up the stairs.
“Help me!” the tied-up woman cried in a still-weak voice from the elixir Dougal used on them. Her face was etched with agony as she lay in the dirt. She tried to roll, but her skirt was still snagged.
Dougal bucked solidly against the doorjamb, knocking the breath out of Julianne as she hung on. The back of her head struck the wooden frame, and stars swam before her vision. She knew if they were to have any chance, she had to make him faint.
She was able to get one toe back on the overturned bucket, giving her enough leverage to wrap her arms tighter around Dougal’s neck. One beefy arm snapped out and hauled Marta to his side as she tried to get past. Clara dove for his knees and wrapped her arms around them.
The big man stumbled but kicked out of Clara’s embrace. He whirled and flailed against the attack of the three remaining women. Julianne twisted one leg around his to keep from being thrown off. Marta whipped the knife toward him when he focused on Clara, sticking him in the thigh, then pulled the knife away again.
Dougal swore and tried to move, but Clara’s arms cinched up his legs and held tight.
Julianne labored against her own fatigue to keep her arms tight.
She looked at the new woman moaning on the ground and knew that was her just half a day ago. It had been all of them. This man had no human feeling. She looked at Marta to see if she still had the knife. Even as Dougal reached for it, Marta flung her arm to the side, moving it out of his reach.
He continued to rage, and Clara hung on, limiting him from taking a step. He pulled and tugged at Marta. He wanted the knife. If he got it, Julianne knew, they’d all die in a horrible way.
She had renewed desire. She shifted her weight and pulled her forearm tighter across the big man’s neck. She held her wrist with her other hand. Her shoulders burned as she worked to tighten her already sore muscles.
If he would just pass out, they could all escape. Her arms were already weakened from the work on the hole in the ceiling. They strained and shook and felt like they would crumble to dust. Dougal’s meaty fist grasped Marta’s, trying to control the knife. He pulled her closer to him.
I can’t give up. The only thing Julianne could think of was to pray again—what was required to save herself and these women was beyond her strength alone. “My arms are Your arms, Lord.” She felt herself relax, weaken, and begin to lose grip. “No!”
At the same time, a bold tension overcame her and increased her strength. Marta held fast to the knife, trying to pull away from Dougal as he pulled her toward him. A second later, the man wobbled and fell like Goliath, face-down in the dirt.
Chapter 21
Hugh Fontaine
Hugh ran down the stone steps. Two women were struggling their way up with a third person between them. Under any other circumstance, he would have stopped to help, but he hadn’t seen Julianne. Dread twisted in his gut. Behind the women, through the open door, he saw her. She looked dazed and weak, standing over the big man on the floor.
A sense of protection roared through Hugh as her head turned slowly his way. Dust and dirt covered her face and clothes. It nearly broke him to see tracks of muddy tears trailing down her dusty cheeks. Hugh pulled her into his arms and felt her sob against his chest.
“I’ve got you.” And I am never letting you go. His hand stroked the back of her head. “It’s over.” His heart burst with relief as her face lifted to his. He held her for a long moment.
Julianne’s thin voice asked, “Is he…dead?”
Hugh turned his head momentarily toward the prone man below them.
“I…I choked him.” She drew a ragged breath. “I just wanted him to faint.”
“It’s all right,” Hugh murmured in her ear.
“Why did he do this?” Julianne’s forehead pressed into Hugh’s chest. Her right arm held his waist tightly. Between sobs she said, “I just wanted to get away…but I…I killed him.”
“Shh. You’re safe now.” He rocked back and forth with her. “I’ll check.” He didn’t think he really needed to. He was sure the man had been served simple justice without a trial.
Hugh sat Julianne on the stairs outside the door, and then took the hardest step in his life away from her. He walked back into the dank room. In his heart, he was satisfied that Julianne had acted in self-defense—he was proud of her. The evil this man had done had no possible excuse in Hugh’s book.
Hugh squatted and rolled the man over, revealing a knife deep between his ribs. A darkened puddle of black mud was below Dougal, and red blood clung to the knife. Now, High was sure Dougal had been talking with Archie about the women.
Behind him, Julianne gasped. Hugh stepped between her and the dead man to block her view as he returned to her. “You didn’t do this.” He slipped one arm across her back and the other behind her knees, cradling her, and left the cellar.
Julianne curled against his chest and whimpered, “That’s my knife. My knife killed him.” Her right hand held her left arm close to her side.
She’s hurt.
“Choices are powerful things. He killed himself.” Hugh kissed the top of Julianne’s head.
When he came out from behind the Nugget Saloon, he saw the full extent of the town’s fire. He had to get her to safety. Every building on the west side of Main Street up to the restaurant was on fire, and smoke filled the sky. It wouldn’t be long before Edwin’s place, the Nugget, and the root cellar would succumb. So far, the east side had been sp
ared, as long as the wind didn’t change. The best way out seemed to be south, toward the railroad station. If it engulfed the whole town, they could drive their wagons to South Fork.
Mr. Anders and two of his barkeepers loaded a black metal safe and a few wooden boxes in a wagon, then hopped aboard and raced south. On the street ahead of Hugh, the two reverends stood beside a wagon filled with the women who’d left the cellar. Millie and Mrs. Parker were in the back with them, whispering comforting words and covering the women with quilts.
At that moment, Little Archie exited the restaurant, yelling for his uncle to wait for him.
Hugh shouted at the reverends, “They set black powder. Get your wagon out of here.”
Instead of running away, Mrs. Parker clambered down from where she had been sitting on the bench and followed Reverend Parker as he ran toward Julianne. Callum jumped aboard his wagon and took off toward the station.
Hugh saw Little Archie race from the building. Hugh was a handful of steps away from the buckboard when an explosion ripped open the top of the restaurant, blew out most of the front wall, and sent fiery debris vaulting into the air. The concussion blew past Hugh as a plank from the storefront slammed into his back, throwing him to the ground with Julianne in his arms. He was just able to twist enough not to land on her.
As he rolled to his back, Hugh felt torn. Should he help Julianne get to the wagon, or chase her abductor?
Julianne’s father appeared at their side. “I’ve got her. Go!” he yelled to Hugh.
“Take my wagon! Follow Reverend Bing,” Hugh called back. He scrambled to his feet at the same time Archibald did. With a burst of speed, Hugh caught him, tackling him to the dirt and wrestling him to his stomach. Archie squirmed like the weasel he was, trying to get away. Hugh hauled Grady back to his feet while twisting his arm behind his back and crooking his arm around the man’s neck.
