Her back stiffened. “I didn’t realize we were at war.”
“Right.” Anger swirled beneath his words. “If you weren’t so stubborn we could reopen that mine together. We could do so much more if we were partners.”
He touched Mac’s silky blond hair and she had to fight the urge to slap his hand away. He’s my child! “No.”
“What do you have against me?” he said, trying to control his temper.
Nothing. Everything. “Just leave me alone.”
He muttered a curse. “I’m taking over the mine whether you like it or not. I’m gonna be in your life for a long time so do yourself a favor and make peace with the idea.”
Sheriff Wade approached, his hands shoved in his pockets. He was careful not to meet Rebecca’s gaze. He looked like a schoolboy facing down his teacher. “The shooting contest is about to begin. Thought you might like to take a crack at it, Cole.”
Cole stretched out his long legs. “I don’t have my rifle with me so maybe another time.”
“I’ve got an extra rifle,” Wade supplied cheerfully.
“You’re making it hard to say no.”
“Then let’s get you registered.”
Rebecca folded her arms over her chest. “Go ahead. Mac and I will stay here.”
Cole rose, lifted the sleeping child up and nestled him on his shoulder. “We can go together.”
Rebecca stood. She ached to rip the boy from Cole’s arms, but she kept calm. “Fine.”
Cole cocked an eyebrow. “Lead the way, Wade.”
Rebecca stayed close to Cole and Mac. She fretted that the boy would awaken and start to cry, but he slept on Cole’s shoulder as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Wade led them to the target area where the men had assembled with their rifles. Most of the townspeople had encircled the contestants.
Wade strode over to a collection of three rifles and chose two then returned. “Take your pick.”
Cole shrugged as if he were almost bored. “Either one will do.”
Wade chose a well-oiled Colt rifle. “It’s in good condition.”
Cole studied the wood stock and sleek barrel. “I can see that.”
Mac stirred and raised his head. He looked at his father, then at the rifle. “Bad guns.” He popped his thumb in his mouth.
Cole smiled. “You remember what I said about them?”
“Don’t touch,” Mac said.
“Good job, partner.”
Rebecca’s heart constricted as Cole smiled at Mac. Holding the boy seemed to come naturally to him and clearly the boy was content to be in his arms. Bess came up beside her and squeezed her arm, as if reading her thoughts.
Tears pooled in Rebecca’s eyes. She felt as if she were losing her son.
Wade pointed to a row of targets painted on brown paper and staked upright fifty yards away. “Each man gets six shots and his own target,” he said loud enough for all to hear. “The one with the most hits on the bull’s-eye wins ten silver dollars.”
A murmur of excitement passed through the crowd as the men nodded and lined up at the firing line. Seth Osborne was the first contestant. He fired and reloaded, missing the center but peppering the outer rim of the painted paper circle with six bullets.
The circle of men and women clapped. “Nice shot, Seth,” Stan shouted.
Seth sniffed and moved back. “You don’t own a saloon without learning a thing or two about guns.”
Four other men followed in succession each doing well, but none hitting the bull’s-eye more than once.
When it was Wade’s turn, he turned to Rebecca. “Kiss for luck.”
Before she could react, Bess stepped in front of her, grabbed Wade’s face in her hands and kissed his lips. The women giggled and the men grunted their approval.
Wade’s cheeks blazed with shock as he stood stock straight. “Mrs. Gunston, what was that?”
Bess chuckled. “Just my way of wishing you good luck.”
Wade cleared his throat. “Thank you. I think.” He stared at her several seconds longer as if seeing her for the first time, then turned to face the target. He paused only a second before firing his six shots. He retrieved his target and proudly showed that four bullets had hit the center. His other two shots were only inches from the bull’s-eye.
The crowd cheered and Wade grinned broadly. He held up his hand, waving to everyone.
Cole waited for the crowd to quiet before he handed Mac to Rebecca. His arm brushed hers. Rebecca’s breath suspended in her throat as she stared into his green eyes.
Cole glanced at Rebecca. “How about a kiss for luck?” he said in a low voice only she could hear.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Don’t ever dare me.”
He looked for an instant as if he would kiss her but instead removed his black Stetson and handed it to Mac. The little boy stared at the hat, his eyes wide. “Hang on to that for me, partner.”
Mac grinned. “Okay.”
Rebecca felt a hitch in her chest as her son stared at his father with wide-eyed admiration. She wondered again if she’d made the right decision to keep the two apart.
Cole turned to face the target and raised his rifle. The people around him still talked noisily about Wade’s excellent shots. Some had walked away, believing Wade had won the match.
Cole drew in a steadying breath then fired his six shots. A few people turned back as Wade sauntered to the target, which at first glance appeared to have been pierced by a large single hole dead center. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Wade shouted.
A couple of the men gathered to stare at the target, each murmuring their approval. All six of Cole’s shots had hit their mark dead center in the bull’s-eye.
Rebecca felt ridiculously proud of Cole and before she thought said, “Congratulations.”
He gave her a rakish grin. “Thank you.”
He had the power to evoke anger, fear and passion. He’d yanked her from her self-imposed exile. She knew then that she could lose herself to him. And if not for her fears, she would have.
The clang of the fire bell shattered her thoughts.
Stan Farthing ran down the street waving his arms. “Fire. Fire. The livery’s on fire!”
A sudden wave of sickness washed over Rebecca. Immediately, she looked for Dusty who was nowhere in sight.
A hush fell over the crowd. Every man, woman and child big enough to tote a bucket, stopped what they were doing and ran toward the blaze.
Rebecca grabbed Cole’s arm. “Dusty’s in the barn.”
Cole’s face tightened with worry. He stared at her only an instant before he reacted. Moving with the speed of a cougar in flight, he raced down the street toward the livery. He reached for the front doors, but the iron fittings were too hot to touch. He grabbed an ax that lay beside the barn and pulled the blade over his head, and plowed it into the lock. Wood cracked and splintered and the lock popped loose.
The door swung open. Black smoke poured out. The fire hissed.
Cole tossed the ax aside and disappeared into the blaze.
“Cole!” Rebecca shouted. She handed Mac to Bess then ran toward the blaze. The heat stopped her advance, leaving her unable to help.
Smoke streamed out of the hole as flames licked the roof of the livery barn. Rebecca heard loud voices, the frantic ring of the church bell, the thunder of footsteps behind her.
“Where’s my Jared?” Prudence shouted.
“Last I saw him,
he’d gone to the livery to play with Dusty,” Mrs. Applegate said.
Prudence ran toward the fire, but Rebecca grabbed her. “You can’t go in there.”
“My boy’s in there!”
“Cole’s gone after him. We have to wait.”
Seconds clicked by like hours as the men and women formed a human chain from the water pump to the fire. With buckets and pails in hand, they began the tedious task of passing bucket after bucket of water toward the fire.
They all knew if the fire wasn’t checked the entire town could be destroyed. White Stone had taken too many financial blows in the last two years to survive the devastation of fire.
Water sloshed, the heat of the fire grew, but no one spoke as they worked together to defeat the flames.
Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat as she waited for Cole, Dusty and Jared to emerge. She heard herself scream Cole’s name. The acrid smell of smoke stung her lungs as she struggled to breathe.
“Has anyone seen the boys?” she heard someone shout.
“No!” another answered.
Prudence wailed and she rocked back and forth, her arms wrapped around her. Rebecca stood by her side sure her own heart would explode in her chest.
Rebecca realized she’d been so selfish. It wasn’t right to deny Cole his son or White Stone the chance at prosperity. Guilt weighed heavily on her heart, making it difficult to breathe.
Then and there she made her bargain with God. If he spared Cole and Dusty, she’d tell Cole the truth about Mac.
“I swear, I’ll tell him everything,” she mumbled.
The fire cracked and snapped. The roof groaned. More seconds ticked by. They’d all die if they didn’t get out of there soon.
Suddenly, a hand and then another emerged through the smoke. Jared. Behind him emerged Dusty. Rebecca broke into a run, ignoring the shouts from behind her. Reaching into the smoke, she grabbed hold of the boys’ shirts and pulled with all her strength.
She dragged them away from the barn. Each collapsed into the dirt, their bodies covered with black, oily soot. Jared and Dusty coughed and sputtered, but they were fine.
“Where’s Cole?” Rebecca demanded.
“Don’t know,” Dusty wheezed. “Was right behind me.”
Prudence ran through the smoke and grabbed hold of her son. She hugged him close, stroking his head and whimpering his name.