Page 66 of All We Carry Home

A stream of black cloud slithered up from the distance, and I ran behind him, dragging the frightened mare.

As we broke through the grove of trees, my heart lurched. An inferno wrapped around the first of the three cabins and roared. Lucky, Bennett, EP, and Peter all raced around it, two with buckets of water and the other two with shovels to toss dirt on the edges to keep it contained.

I locked Stormy in a large paddock where she’d be contained but out of the way, then raced up to Annie, who stood at the edge of the yard. “Where’s your father?”

Annie just stared at the flames, wide-eyed.

Eddie’s car wasn’t in the driveway, so I had to assume and pray that he wasn’t inside the cabin or hurt. I grabbed another water bucket and joined in to throw water at the edges of the monster that threatened to consume us all.

There wasn’t a moment to spare. The tinder box that was Birkstrom Ranch could all be gone in the flash of a stray spark along the wind.

The heat of the sun and the flames seared my skin as we fought inch by inch to subdue the fire and keep it from igniting the rest of the buildings or brush.

After half an hour, the building was mostly a pile of rubble, but the fire was exhausted. We all were drenched in sweat, soot, and ash.

Warren approached me. “Are you all right?”

I nodded and just stared at the rubble. The remains of a small cabin that Gramps had built from scratch. “What happened?”

Warren’s face was smudged and splattered with water. “Victor had his hand in this.”

Fear and horror sliced through me. Could he possibly stoop so low?

“Actually, Captain.” Lucky walked up, gripping Peter by the collar of his shirt. Peter’s face was distraught and masked behind a layer of dirt and sweat. “We caught him smoking in the house. He dropped the lighter and it went up fast.”

A different kind of fear and sadness washed over me.

The kid looked sick and ducked his head. He had returned the lighter and cigarettes to Keith days ago. So where had he dug these up?

“Didn’t we talk to you about smoking?” Warren growled. He shook his head and paced. To Lucky, he asked, “Where in the world is Eddie?”

Lucky gave him a knowing look.

We all knew.

Warren

After the dust settled, the smoke faded into the air, and the day had turned from one of hope to one of trepidation, I strode toward my truck.

I’d find Eddie. We’d get him back from the brink.

Eva jumped in as I turned the engine over. “Betty called,” she said. “He’s at Rocky’s.”

Her face was washed, her clothes changed, but the fear in her eyes was fresh. It had been a miracle no one was hurt, and another gift from above that the rest of the farm hadn’t been damaged by the fire.

We drove in silence to town, though there were so many things I wanted to say. How much I admired and enjoyed watching her work with the horses. How I hoped she’d go with me to the banquet. How I dreaded ever leaving this place.

Right now, it was about Eddie.

We pulled down Main Street and drove past the Geiser and the courthouse to find a small, dark building at the very edge of downtown. This wasn’t the pub for socializing or catching up with old buddies. This was one where people disappeared.

Eva strode in, unafraid and unintimidated by the hardened and rowdy men inside. The bar was simple and dirty, reeking of cigarette smoke, beer, and unwashed bodies. The heat of the day and the lack of ventilation made the atmosphere humid and sticky.

I kept close to her, sending a clear warning to each set of interested eyes. Several of them recognized her, waved in a friendly manner. Others were too far into the depths of their drinks to have good sense. A few looked at her hungrily, as if grasping for something good and pure.

She spotted him first as she weaved through the dirty and broken tables and chairs, heading for the back of the room and a stool at the bar. In the darkest corner, Eddie was slumped over the bar, holding an empty glass and hardly conscious.

I kept on her heels and reached for him at the same time.