“You’re insane, Ivy,” he said, trying to push her away. The lamp nearly fell from his hands as she fought him.
“I had to do it. I know it was wrong, but by destroying this place, you would have no other reason to stay.”
He stopped at this, and in spite of the building smoke and growing fire, Braeden simply stared at her for a moment. “You set this fire.” It was a statement more than a question, and when Ivy nodded, he felt the overwhelming urge to slap her. He didn’t, however. “Get out of here, Ivy. I can’t help you now.”
“I know about fires,” she said, refusing to drop her hold on his arm. “My parents died in a fire. They shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean for them to, but they went back inside. You have to come outside with me.” She actually managed to drag him a few steps toward the front door.
“Are you saying you set the fire that killed your parents?” he asked, almost horrified to know the answer. He coughed as his lungs fought to exhale the smoke. They couldn’t remain in the resort for much longer.
She nodded, then threw him a pleading look. “Aunt Esmeralda didn’t understand, but she’s dead now. She can’t hurt me. The secret is safe with us.”
Braeden’s mind reeled from the information. Then a sickening thought came to his mind. Esmeralda had died from a fall down the stairs. He knew because he’d asked. The doctor had been uncertain if the old woman had suffered some sort of seizure prior to the fall but had promised to do a posthumous examination.
For a moment, the smoke seemed to lessen and Braeden actually thought perhaps the fire was playing itself out. But as the wind blew in from the open door, he realized the reason. Ivy pulled at his arm.
“We have to hurry, look behind you!”
Looking down the hall, Braeden saw the unmistakable glow of flames. Casa Grande would soon lay in ashes.
Realizing there was no more time to waste, he pushed Ivy toward the door, acting as if they were both going to exit the lobby. As soon as Ivy crossed the threshold, however, Braeden ripped away from her hold and marched back into the hotel, heading straight for the dining room. He’d just entered the silent room when Ivy caught up with him.
“No, Braeden!” she screamed, coming after him in a fierce lunge.
Unprepared for this, Braeden dropped the lamp, spilling the kerosene. Flames leapt across the wooden floor. With their exit to the lobby cut off, Braeden pulled Ivy into the dining room just as a woman’s screams sounded.
“We’ll have to go out the side exit,” he told Ivy. He would have just as soon left her to suffer on her own, but he couldn’t do such an abominable thing with a clear conscience. God would deal with Ivy Brooks. It wasn’t up to Braeden to mete out her punishment.
The scream came again, and this time Braeden was certain it came from the kitchen. Pushing Ivy forward, they entered the kitchen and nearly fell back from the heat of the fire. Apparently the flames had crossed over from the theatre and ignited the back of the kitchen—at least from what Braeden surmised.
“Help me!” a woman cried out.
Braeden made out the figure of Gwen Carson. She was stuck in a small alcove of the kitchen. Directly behind her and in front of her the flames engulfed the walls, counters, and everything else in its wake.
“Gwen, you’ll have to jump through the fire.”
“I can’t!” she screamed. “I can’t. I fell, and I think my leg is broken.” Ivy stood mesmerized as Braeden pulled off his coat. “Get out of here, Ivy. I can’t help you both at the same time.”
Still she refused to move, but Braeden was more concerned for Gwen. Pulling his coat over his head, Braeden made a mad run at the growing wall of flames. Ivy screamed from somewhere across the fiery wall, but he was unharmed as he came face-to-face with Gwen.
He assessed the situation quickly as a huge piece of the back wall gave way. Looking through the flames to where Ivy stood, Braeden was mortified to see that the fire had managed to surround her and cut off her escape. There wasn’t much time left. They were all going to die if he didn’t think of something fast.
The heat from the fire made his skin tingle and the air rapidly grew much too hot to breathe. God help me, he prayed, frantic to think of some way to help them survive the situation. Just then he remembered the storage room. There was a conveyance of rollers to slide goods into the room from the delivery platform window. That receiving window would be their means of escape!
“Ivy, you’ll have to come this way. I’m going to get Gwen into the storage room. We can escape through the window.”
“No! Don’t leave me!” Ivy screamed.
Braeden had already lifted Gwen into his arms. “You’ll have to do this on your own, Ivy. I’ll be back in a minute.” He heard her screaming his name over and over, and in spite of all the trouble she had caused him, he felt a horrible sense of inadequacy in leaving her there. Surely she would muster her courage and come after them, he thought. She wouldn’t just stand there and let the fire take her without a fight.
Gwen was sobbing softly in his arms as Braeden moved through the storage area. The fire behind them created enough light to see through the smoky shadows—but just barely. “We’re almost there,” he told her, pushing past crates and bags of flour.
Placing Gwen on the rollers, he admonished her to hold tight.
“I’m going to get that window open,” he said, maneuvering to unfasten the wooden latches. The window was more of a door, for all practical purposes, with a heavy wooden gate that swung wide to expose the room for delivery.
Braeden had it open in a matter of seconds. “Just ease your weight down the rollers,” he told Gwen. “Get yourself outside while I go back for Ivy. Can you do that?”
Gwen nodded, seeming to regain control of her senses. “I’ll do it, Mr. Parker. You go ahead.”
Braeden left his coat by the window and maneuvered back through the storage room. There was no sign of Ivy, but he heard her screams through the roar of the blaze. He’d no sooner made it to the kitchen when a huge piece of ceiling gave way and crashed down before him to block off any hope of going after Ivy. Sparks flashed up and pieces of debris landed on his left forearm, burning his shirt. He quickly smothered the flaming sleeve, then struggled again to see where Ivy was.
“Ivy! This is the only way out!”
Her screams echoed in his ears, then fell silent as another piece of wall gave way.
He felt sickened at the thought of her dying in the very fire she’d set. It might be poetic justice or proper revenge for all that she had done, but he would never have wished it upon her.
It wasn’t until he made his way back to the receiving window, grabbed up his coat, and followed Gwen outside, that Braeden had time to think of Rachel.
Dear God, please keep her from harm. I have no idea where Worthington has put her, but I can only pray it’s far from this resort. He again lifted Gwen in his arms. Lightning flashed in the distance, and Braeden felt only a small amount of relief to see that the storm was bypassing them. The rain might actually have put out the flames.
Yet instead of a welcome rain, the downdraft of the thunderstorm served instead to tear apart the delicate electrical lines and to stir up the flames that consumed Casa Grande. Seeing the destruction before him, Braeden wondered silently if the fire would be contained to the resort. After all, there were plenty of other buildings close enough to catch fire, and if they did, it might well spread to the entire town.
Looking down at the woman he carried, Braeden quickly realized Gwen had fainted. She must have suffered great terror at having been trapped by the blaze. He couldn’t imagine what had happened to put her in that position, nor how she might have broken her leg. Carrying her away from the building and back around to the front of the resort, Braeden came upon a shocking sight. Half-dressed hotel guests of every age and size stood staring in dumbfounded silence as Casa Grande burned. Mothers tried to comfort children while the men went to help try to control the flames. No one even seemed to notice the storm i
n the distance or the wind. They were completely mesmerized by the conflagration before them.
A small gathering of volunteer fire fighters were present with their two-horse pump and tank. It wouldn’t begin to put a dent in the fire, nor would the bucket brigade lined up between the stream and the resort. The fire was hopelessly out of control.
Searching for a place to take Gwen, Braeden noticed Dr. Krier was already attending several people by the fountain. Someone had thoughtfully brought several lanterns and blankets to aid him in the process, and several of the townswomen were helping him deal with the injured. Braeden moved through the people to take Gwen to where the doctor worked.
“She may have a broken leg,” he told Dr. Krier as the man’s expression silently inquired.
“I don’t know if she’s received any burns,” Braeden continued as Gwen moaned softly, “but she’s definitely in pain.”
“I’ll see to her,” Krier replied. “Are there any others? Anyone else inside?”
Braeden felt bile in his throat and pushed it down. “Ivy Brooks was trapped in the kitchen. I couldn’t get to her.”
The doctor nodded and turned his attention to Gwen just as someone shouted that sparks had apparently set the stables on fire. Braeden quickly remembered Worthington and Tomas and made a mad dash, along with several of Casa Grande’s stable hands, for the building. If they were to die, it would be his fault for tying them there without hope of escape.
He found them just where he’d left them. Tomas was wide-eyed and fearful, but Worthington seemed to have slipped into his own world. He was muttering something about a ship and wondering what time they would dock.
“I have to move you,” Braeden said, quickly mastering the knots he’d tied. “The wind has carried sparks to the stable. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town burned down!”
He yanked them to their feet and pushed them toward the door. “If I had time, I’d just move you on to the jail, but there are still others to consider.”
“You have no right to keep me here,” Worthington said in a strangely calm manner. “My ship is awaiting my arrival.”
Braeden knew the man was either losing his mind or the shock of the fire had confused him. Either way, he didn’t care. He only wanted to know where Rachel was, and if he had to beat it out of the man, he would get his answer.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“IT’S TOO SOON,” Reg muttered over and over. He asked Braeden for the time, but before Braeden could respond he continued ranting. “I didn’t have time to see to everything. It’s too soon. I didn’t do it.”
Braeden directed him, along with Tomas, toward the bridge at Morita Falls. He thought this to be as safe a place as any to position the men. Here he could secure them to the structure and keep them out of harm’s way, and then he would be free to go in search of Rachel.
“The power station,” Reg said and muttered the phrase over and over. He looked at the sad little building beside the falls, the waterwheel still churning. “Mine … the power station.”
“What is he talking about?” Braeden questioned Tomas.
“I don’t know, senor. He’s been talking loco ever since you tied us up.”
Braeden reached the bridge and pushed Worthington back against the railing. “Where is Rachel? You must tell me now.”
Reg looked at him with a blank stare. “It’s all mine,” he said. “All mine.”
Braeden shook him. “Look, Worthington, I’m giving you just one chance to tell me the truth. That fire is going to destroy everything in its path. You have to tell me where Rachel is so that I can keep her from dying in the fire.”
“I will miss my ship,” Reg firmly stated as if his senses had suddenly returned to him. Then he began mumbling. “Water … the fire … power station.”
“What’s with the power station?” Braeden questioned, looking at Tomas. “Is there something that interests him?”
Tomas nodded. “We put some of the stolen goods there. He had me choose three places. We put some of the stuff under the bandstand.
Then some of it went to the power station and some to a cave down below the falls.”
Braeden began to think about the things Reg had said. It didn’t make sense, but what did was that Reginald Worthington knew where Rachel was. He had put her somewhere. Somewhere for safekeeping— just like the stolen goods.
“Tomas, do you think it’s possible that Mr. Worthington took Rachel to one of those places? I mean, were the areas big enough to hide a woman and keep her from being discovered?”
“Si ,” Tomas replied. “The bandstand is not very big, but the power station has much room underground and the cave is far away and very big.”
Braeden felt the first bit of encouragement. “Where is the cave?
I’ll check it out.”
“The cave is that way,” Tomas pointed down the side of the stream, “But, sen or, I can find it in the dark. You can trust me. I promise I no run away. I may be a thief, but I would not do anything to hurt Miss Taylor. She was very good to me. Please let me help you.”
Braeden nodded and began untying the boy. “You go to the cave and I’ll take the powerhouse. How do I get to this underground room?”
“There is a trapdoor on the far side. A ladder will take you down there.”
“All right. You go to the cave and if Rachel is there, bring her back. If she’s hurt, stay with her, and I’ll come looking for you. Do you understand?”
“Si ,” Tomas replied and took off running down the path that ran parallel to the powerhouse. It took only a moment for the boy to disappear from sight.
Braeden took one last glance at Reg, who seemed completely enthralled with the fire. Turning back around to face Casa Grande, Braeden could see that the entire front section of the hotel had flames fanning out from every window. He looked quickly to the stables, which were now also engulfed in the blaze.
“The pool house and sheds are on fire!” someone shouted. “Looks like the wind might carry it to the entire town.”
This caused shrieks of alarm and sent a rush of people toward the bridge. Braeden backed up as the townspeople hurried back to their own homes to save what they could and be prepared to fight the fire as it spread through the town.
“The powerhouse is on fire!” the station manager yelled, running up from the path.
This announcement sent a rippling shock through Braeden. If Rachel was there, she was now in serious peril. He left Reg tied to the bridge and pushed his way through the onslaught of townsfolk.
He opened the door to the station, grateful that the electricity still illuminated the small building. Not seeing any visible signs of fire, Braeden took no chance on the manager having been given over to a case of nerves. He moved quickly to the back of the room, searching through the mechanisms of belts, pulleys, gears, and machinery.
“It has to be here!” he said aloud.
Growing more and more frantic as the smell of smoke seemed to permeate everything around him, Braeden ripped at any object in his way and thrust it aside. Finally he spied the trapdoor and threw it open. He started down the ladder, then felt the tickle of something against his face. Reaching up to swat aside what he presumed to be a cobweb, Braeden’s hand fell on the light cord. He pulled at it, silently thanking God when light flooded the room.
He jumped the final few rungs just as Rachel’s cries reached his ears.
“Help me! Please get me out of here!”
“I’m here, Rachel!” he called, searching through the maze of goods and stored materials to find her tied to a small cot. Seeing her there, so pale and frightened, Braeden lost no time in working the ropes.
“I knew you would come for me,” she said softly, her face taking on an expression of relief. “I knew you hadn’t gone away as Reg told me.”
“No,” Braeden answered, freeing her feet. “I would never leave you.”
“I know that now,” she said.
He looked deep into her eyes. “You finally
trust me, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I will always trust you.”
He pulled her up off the bed and turned her around to untie her hands. “Look, Casa Grande is burning to the ground, and this powerhouse is on fire. We have to hurry or we might not make it.”
She gripped him tightly. “I love you, Braeden. I’ve never stopped.”
He smiled and pressed a quick kiss upon her lips. “I know that. Why do you think I came here in the first place? Once I knew you were here, my only thought was of winning you back. But right now we have to get out of this building.”
He pushed her ahead of him and maneuvered them back to the ladder. He worried that Rachel might not have the strength after her ordeal to climb the rungs, but she surprised him by hiking her skirts and scurrying up them in no time at all. He followed behind, anxious to be out in the open and away from what was no doubt about to become another inferno.
He had no sooner emerged through the trapdoor when he noticed that Rachel had come to a dead stop. He found himself following her gaze to where the entire west wall seemed to instantly burst into flames.
“Come on!” he yelled, dragging her with him to the front door.
They burst out into the cool, damp air and raced up the path away from the station house. Panting for breath and fearful of what could have happened, Rachel collapsed into Braeden’s arms, weeping softly and clinging to him as though she might well perish if she let go.
“Shh, it’s all right now,” he told her. “You’re safe.”
“I was so afraid. I kept thinking that Reg was actually going to get away with taking me to England. He said we would be married and that I …”
Braeden pulled her away and shook his head. “You don’t have to talk about it. It’s not important. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
“Where is he?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder and seeing Casa Grande for the first time. “Did he get out of the fire?”
“Yes,” Braeden assured her. “I have him tied to the Morita Falls bridge.”
Hidden in a Whisper Page 28
