The tempo speeded up and Will weaved in and out following the caller’s instructions, bowing, and linking.
The air in the barn seemed warmer, and he began to perspire. In top physical shape from running, tennis, and swimming, he was surprised at the effect the dancing had on him. He caught a glimpse of Brad and Amy waving to him from the loft. He smiled back, but to his dismay found it difficult focusing his eyes on the laughing children.
Addie’s blue dress flashed around and around in the crowd of swirling skirts. Her set approached. He would soon be right across from her.
“Now you swing with the gal in the valley.”
Addie waited while Buck swung her mother, and took a quick glance around the circle to locate Will. Her teaming quickened.
Soon they would touch.
“And you swing with your Red River gal.”
Buck swung her with expertise, and kissed her swiftly on the cheek before she passed on to the next set.
The fair-haired man, who hadn’t taken his wintry eyes off her all evening, now stood next to her. Addie shuddered. She wondered if she should alert Lee Bert, Buck, or Will. Stop this, she told herself. You can’t allow yourself to be afraid of every stranger you meet. He’s probably someone’s cousin, or a visiting friend.
“Circle to the left, then to the right.” The stranger linked her arm in his and swung her. “How are things with you, Addie?” he asked.
She gave him a weak smile, but pretended to concentrate on the dance pattern and didn’t answer. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Everything okay?” he asked intimately.
She shuddered and felt a rush of relief as he left her and swung her mother. A quick and anxious spot check for her protective knights, should she need someone, found Will’s attention riveted on her; Buck, despite making an effort to be gracious to his dance partners, glared at her, and managed to watch every move she made, while Lee Bert talked animatedly with some farmers at the large barn door.
She could signal to any one of them, she thought, but reasoned that it wasn’t necessary. If this stranger was the killer, he couldn’t hurt her here in the midst of all these people. After this dance was over she would voice her concerns to one of them.
“Now the girls make a wheel in the valley.” Addie joined hands with her mother, Dixie, and Lulu, and wheeled around and around until she landed in the arms of Will.
With his touch, the whole world righted, then tilted again. Safe with Will, she was now giddy with relief and excitement. The menace of the stranger dissolved into happiness at the sight and feel of Will. He linked her mother on one arm and Addie on the other.
The warmth of his body heated her right side, and she sucked in the musky male scent of him, and the faint lemony aftershave he used. Wiry hair on his arms, and the side of her breast against the brawn of his upper arm bred a chain of reactions in her body that left her light-headed, and yearning for more of him.
Will gave her a reassuring, but lopsided smile, and whirled her around. It was her mother’s turn. Addie stood patting her foot in time to the lively music, and tried to manage the exhilaration swirling through her.
Will lurched. Her mother laughed and caught his arm to steady him.
Had he been drinking beer as he sat on the porch with Henry Meredith, worried Addie, or had he been indulging himself with Jingles’s ripe inebriating cider? Neither of those possibilities seemed likely, and the cider she’d poured for Buck to take to Will had been plain fresh apple juice variety. Though she knew Will possessed a wild and unconventional streak, she also knew he was too courtly and polite to get drunk and embarrass them.
Was he ill? No, he seemed fine now, laughing with her mother, having a good time. “And the boys do-sa-do so polite.”
Will “do-sa-doed,” then grabbed Addie for a final twirl before sending them off to the next set. He managed to bring her close enough to smooth a swift palm over her breast and place a soft kiss in her hair.
Flying with excitement, Addie had forgotten Buck, 1 but now caught a glimpse of him across the circle, frowning at her, and angry. Obviously he’d noticed the quick exchange of affection between her and Will. He cast her a malevolent look that shook her to her roots, and her happy excitement plummeted to the dusty floor to join the dancers’ busy feet.
Buck had never, ever looked at her with anything but love and happiness. She hated being the cause of anyone’s misery, and especially Buck’s.
Face it, Addie. You’ve seen other things in Buck’s eyes lately, things you’ve ignored or haven’t been willing to acknowledge. You’ve seen ownership, and jealousy, and spite. You’ve seen condescending attitudes in the leaning, hovering stance of his body, and the swift jerk of his perfectly shaved chin.
“Now you lead on down the valley,” sang out the caller.
The set changed again and the pattern was leading her back to the cold-eyed stranger’s nosy questions, and then to Buck; whose expression had now turned to one of hurt and frustration.
The faster the music went, the faster Addie’s thoughts swirled, like the twirling red, blue, and green skirts, like the spinning, smiling couples. Her thoughts and feelings flew high, then fell and whirled into confusion. She searched for Will. She caught a glimpse of Jingles playing in the loft with the children.
Something’s wrong with Jingles being up there, she thought. Twirling fast now, she concentrated on keeping her balance, and tried not to place undue concern where there should be none.
She hadn’t the time to figure it out, or think about Jingles and the children right now.
Will. If she could find him she would feel better. If she found Will everything would be all right.
It was then that Addie admitted to herself, with relief and exhilaration, that she loved Will Court, that she was irrevocably, romantically, and forever in love with Dr. William J. Court. She remembered the night she’d watched Will carry a dying Rags through the storm to his car, and how her heart had taken off like a firecracker giving brilliance to the bleak night. She relived that blinding joy now as she spotted him making his way, in a rather wobbly manner, over to the ladder leading to the loft.
Again she wondered if he was sick, or drunk, or just tired? He grabbed the ladder with determination and climbed quickly, as if he had a mission.
Worry about Will left as the stranger linked his arm in hers and hugged it close to his body. His perspiration-soaked shirt stuck to her arm, making it slick. She gritted her teeth, but promised herself that she would be cool. She would get through this with a polite smile. But butterflies boogied in her tummy while she smiled.
“Hi. I’m David Stowalsky,” he said in a hushed voice dose to her ear. “Please meet me outside the barn after this set is over. I know you’re having fun, but I have something to ask you before the next dance begins.”
Addie tensed, but pretended she hadn’t heard him. She kept smiling, curtsying, and swinging, and smiling, smiling, smiling. While the Stowalsky man swung her mother, Addie looked again for Will.
“Fire!”
Someone yelled “fire” again, and the dancing partners began to separate and look around. Smoke could be smelled now.
A perfect silence held the crowd for a frozen moment.
Then shouts came from everywhere in the barn, and a flashing sheet of flames and roiling smoke erupted from the loft. Pandemonium broke loose.
Addie turned to look for her mother, and saw Eileen Rivers being led hurriedly out of the barn by the stranger. Her mother kept turning to look for her. Her eyes were wide with panic, and she tried to break loose from the man’s grip, but he kept pushing her forward. Addie started after them, but lost sight of them as clouds of smoke enclosed her.
Her alarm at the first smell of smoke had now escalated into mounting terror at the sight of the flames and the fear on her mother’s face.
Fighting terror with every ounce of courage she possessed, Addie ached to inhale deeply and calm herself, but knew she’d only be sucking in her death. The smoke
had become so thick she could scarcely breathe at all. She fumbled for a tissue in the pocket of her skirt and held it over her mouth and nose.
The smoke had gathered so swiftly. The flames had flared so high and out of control in seconds.
Screaming children could be heard above the panicked din, and she remembered that Will had been heading up the ladder to the loft and the children.
She got on her hands and knees and crawled in the direction she thought the ladder was in, lowering her nose all the way to the floor where several inches of good air still remained. Coughing and gasping into her thin tissue, she began to wheeze and fight for air. The impenetrable smoke stung her nose. Excruciating pain seared her eyes. The ladder to the loft? Where is it? Waves of blackness washed back and forth through her. For long alarming moments lucidity fled with the darkness, then returned, only to be gone again.
This is foolish Addie. Look for the door. Get out. Will and Buck can take care of themselves. But where is the door? There are two of them, she thought. A little one, and the big loading door. Which direction? Which direction?
She was lost.
“Will?” She thought that’s what she cried out, but her voice sounded like a whistle.
“Will?” she tried again.
He was gone.
No. Someone was nearby. The pitch-black smoke yielded for a second. Was that the form of someone at her side? The inky smoke closed in again. Choking, smothering, gasping for air, Addie lay flat on the floor and sniffed for air.
Gone. It was gone. No air left. No air.
A hand touched her. Oh, thank God. Someone to help.
Nauseous from the smoke, and dizzy from lack of air, she groped for the person, but the hands moved over her and found her neck. They tightened. Addie pulled to loosen the fingers, but they were too strong. She didn’t understand. Pulling her to safety? This wasn’t the way.
Didn’t understand.
Suddenly she did understand.
This was the killer. This was the man who’d murdered Laurel, Janelle, and Jennifer. No-o-o-o. In spite of all the precautions, he’d gotten to her after all. She tried to scream for Will, for Buck, or Lee Bert. Anyone. But she knew it was too late. She was suffocating.
Grabbing, poking, tearing at the powerful fingers around her throat, Addie struggled for her life. She kicked, and heaved, and bucked, but brilliant red streaks burst across her brain, then black, then blue, then red again.
The scant air remaining in her heaving lungs would soon be gone, smothered by these lethal hands, by this man who hated her so. Why?
Too late.
I’m not ready. It’s the wrong time.
Too late.
Amy Simples’s thin arms squeezed his neck so tight that Will felt the sharp, fragile bones in her wrists and knees. The kitten she’d snatched up clung frantically to his shirt. The frenzied creature’s claws dug into his chest, but the pain was unimportant, and was nothing compared to Will’s fear. Ten-year-old Brad hung close behind them, his hand hooked rigidly around Will’s belt. Brad carried a kitten, too. They hadn’t time to search for the mother cat.
He thought they were almost to the loft door. Couldn’t see it now, but he’d looked for it the minute he’d swept Amy into his arms. Please, God, keep me on a straight course.
He stumbled over an implement of some kind, probably a rake, he thought, as the handle flew up and thumped him on the knee. He grunted and righted himself, hoping he still headed in the right direction.
His head ached from the spiked cider, but fear of the fire had cleared his brain of everything but the will to survive.
He tried to give a word of encouragement to the children, but the dense smoke smothered any attempt at breathing, much less talking. They would be damned lucky if they made it to the loft door unharmed.
Thank God there was little breeze. What wind there was blew to the east of them through the window on the far side of the loft, fanning the flames to the rear of their path. The fire behind them leaped high, dropping huge dumps of fireball into the barn below.
Will refused to think of the people down there. He couldn’t. Thinking of Addie caught in that flaming inferno would have rendered him useless. He was fairly sure most of the dancers got out before the fire grew vicious. As he’d scooped Amy into his arms, and given Brad and Jingles instructions, he’d seen the crowd below run for the doors.
Behind him, Jingles, ashamed and sober now, struggled in the same manner Will did. He carried one child, and another was hooked onto his belt.
Jingles was the reason Will had climbed to the hayloft.
Sick to his stomach and dizzy, Will had excused himself from dancing, and found a cool place to sit. The bale of bound hay against the barn post had been perfect. He’d had flu shots, and he’d eaten nothing that disagreed with him, and had not indulged in anything alcoholic. So why did he feel like he’d consumed five martinis?
Had Buck put something in the cider he’d given Will? If I had finished the whole cup, I would be falling down drunk. Could Buck have done such a stupid thing out of jealousy, or a desire to make him look bad in front of Addie? It was something a high school kid would do, immature and spiteful.
Will was trying to reason out that startling thought when he’d noticed Jingles sitting in the loft with the children. Laughing, and dancing a jig with the kids inside their fort, Jingles kept puffing on his pipe, while sparks from the pipe jumped into the dry straw all around the merry group.
Will had yelled to Jingles, but the music was too loud.
He’d made his way through the dancers and begun to climb the ladder when he heard a child voice the first alarm. He hadn’t been too worried at first. Sometimes a small hay fire can be stomped out quickly, but something else stored in the barn must have ignited because the flames grew out of control in no time.
Will figured the old furniture and stored burlap bags filled with feed had caught and added to the inferno. Like a ravenous beast, the fire ate at the barn, and everything in the barn, in starving gulps. Hungry for the air it needed to live, the fire swallowed everything in its path.
The roar of the fire swept closer. A barn owl zipped by his head, followed by three smaller ones. The frenzied flapping of their wings sent brief, whishing, welcome puffs of motion across his perspiring head.
The tempo of Amy’s frightened breathing against his neck increased. The seven-year-old panted like a tiny caged animal.
Almost there, Amy. Almost there. The smoke cleared and the loft door, a blessed open rectangle of star-studded indigo sky, presented itself right in front of him. With enormous relief he lowered Amy to the floor, and looked down. A babble of voices traveled up from below. A shout rang out.
“There they are,” yelled someone. “Harry, swing that pulley closer.”
Enormous relief swept through Will as he realized the children could be lowered with the pulley. Everyone would reach the ground, and safely, relatively unharmed. Brad, Jingles, and the other two children crowded around him as he knelt on the edge and scanned the crowd below.
Where was Addie? He couldn’t find her. He spotted Eileen Rivers. The abject horror in her eyes could be seen at this distance, and he knew immediately that Addie hadn’t gotten out.
Hanging on for dear life, Amy and Brad were lowered on the pulley, and Will turned to speak to Jingles.
“You make sure the other kids get down safely. I’m going back for Addie.”
“You ain’t doin’ no such thing. There ain’t nothin’ left. We’re damned lucky we made it, Professor. The fire’s eatin’ at our ass right now.”
The ferocious heat of the flames seared his face as he looked behind him. The stench of singed hair on his arm stung his nostrils, as his heart shook with terror.
Jingles was right. The barn, and everything in it, was gone.
6
WHITE. White. Everything that had been red, black, blue and yellow had turned white. A misty, magic, soothing white. She had traveled to another land, another wo
rld, or dimension. Someplace with lovely fairies flowing in the air, and airy emerald trees, and blissful faces. Nice there. Happy there.
She wanted to return to that peaceful, carefree place. She struggled against the strong arms that held her. Someone gripped her so tight to his chest that his ribs dug roughly into her cheek. His jarring stride ignited every sensitive nerve ending in her drained body.
Her throat was on fire. So sore. So sore. And she smelled bad. Burned hair. Oh, God, was her hair all gone? She tried to open her eyes, but they were swollen shut.
Whoever you are, just let go of me. Let me go. I hurt everywhere. I can’t breathe. Let me go.
With horror, she remembered now the fire, and the man strangling her.
Oh, dear God, the killer hasn’t finished. We’re out of the barn. He’s taking me where no one will ever find me. He���ll rape me like he did the others.
She struggled, tried to kick, tried to bite, but she was too tired. Exhausted.
Everything went black again.
7
A THOUSAND STAMPEDING HORSES stomped across her chest, their hot hooves striking sparks through her entire exhausted body. So dry, so hurting. Addie’s burning lungs heaved for air, and her throat felt like summer roof tar.
Somewhere there were voices. A coughing spasm wracked her body until the bed shook, forcing Addie’s swollen eyes open. Everything appeared blurry and fuzzy. But the ruffled, pink lace canopy over her head looked nothing like the enchanted place she’d visited when she’d passed out in the barn, so she knew she had returned to the land of the living. Mrs. Simples’s fussy lace canopy was a welcome sight.
Dr. Hamilton, Blue Spring’s one practicing physician, stood on one side of the bed next to her mother, and Donny Jim hovered at the other like a protecting, avenging angel with singed eyebrows and hair. His nut-brown eyes held a hard, “dare me” expression, as he searched continually around the bedroom. She followed his gaze.
The Simples family gathered anxiously in a corner. Next to them stood a grimy, red-faced Buck, who glared at Donny Jim. Will leaned against the wall at the end of her bed staring at her as if he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t disappear.
Once in a Blue Moon Page 8
