The Colorado Bride

The support beams of the barn now wrapped in fire, groaned. The fire snapped.

A horse stumbled through the door. The panicked whinny of horses tumbled out with the smoke. Two more horses fled out the opening.

“That’s all the horses!” someone shouted.

Cole. Cole. Cole.

Rebecca silently chanted his name as she stood with clenched fists. Then Cole stumbled out of the smoke. He collapsed in the barn’s doorway, his face and hands blackened with ash. Rebecca ran back toward the building, now in danger of collapsing and grabbed Cole’s shirt and tried to yank him free. But he didn’t have the strength to move farther and she didn’t have the strength to drag him.

Rebecca’s eyes watered and her lungs burned. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his upper arm as she pulled again. Still he didn’t move.

“Cole, you’ve got to get up,” Rebecca screamed. “Get up!”

Strong arms reached around her and seized Cole by the shoulders. Sheriff Wade. He dragged Cole away from the barn as a portion of the roof collapsed. Hot embers sailed through the air like a burst of fireflies.

With Rebecca following behind, Wade dragged Cole clear of the barn as if he were a sack of flour. “Damn it, Cole,” he muttered. “You best not be dead.”

The brigade of firefighters, sweating from the heat, retreated back from the blaze. In the next breath, the roof collapsed. When the building settled, the townspeople tossed more water on the dying blaze.

Rebecca dropped to her knees, staring at Cole’s soot-covered face. She combed her fingers through his hair, waiting for him to move. “Oh, God, Cole. Wake up.”

“I don’t think the fire got to him,” said Wade. “His lungs got full of smoke, though.”

In a blur of unshed tears, she patted his cheeks with the palm of her hand. “Please, Cole, wake up. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Cole lay on his side and began coughing. Overcome by spasms, his chest heaved up and down. Several minutes passed before he rolled on his back, breathless.

“Are you all right?” Rebecca nodded.

Cole coughed and nodded. “Just give me a minute.”

Rebecca rested her head against Cole’s chest. “I thought the roof was going to collapse on you.” Her tears stained his blackened shirt.

His eyes closed, he lifted his hand and patted her on the back. “I’m no worse for the wear.”

A half hour ago, she’d believed that caring for Cole was foolish, dangerous even. Now she realized how afraid she’d been of losing him.

She turned over Cole’s hands and inspected his palms. “Your left hand is burned.” To her dismay, her voice trembled.

Cole presented her with a lopsided grin. “Figures. That’s the hand I hit with the hammer yesterday.”

Tears pooled in her eyes. “This is no time to joke. You could have been killed.”

“It sounds like you were worried about me.”

“I was.”

“Good.”

The townspeople had managed to contain the fire, but the livery was a total loss. The flames had nearly receded. Black embers cracked and popped.

“We’re lucky no one was hurt,” Wade said. His damp shirt was smudged with smoke.

Stan Farthing dragged soot-covered hands through his hair. “All the horses got out.”

Wade turned and looked at Dusty and Jared. They stared at him, their eyes wide with fright, their faces and clothes streaked in black ash. “We was all real lucky. If not for that rainstorm yesterday, this whole town could have gone up like tinder.”

The boys glanced nervously at each other. “We meant no harm,” Dusty said.

Prudence hugged Jared close to her breast. The boy whimpered, grabbed hold of his mother and buried his face in her stomach. “My Jared has never gotten into trouble. That Dusty boy is likely behind the fire.”

Dusty frowned. “I didn’t do nothing. He was the one with the cigar.”

Rebecca rose and took Dusty by the hand. “Were you smoking in the barn?”

“We was just having a little fun!” Tears filled his young eyes. “Jared stole the smoke from Sheriff Wade. We was just gonna light it up and see what it tasted like.”

“Jared doesn’t steal,” Prudence shouted.

Cole sat up. “Dusty, no smart man smokes around a barn,” he said his voice deadly calm.

“We thought we’d ground it out good before we went to pet the horses. The next thing we knew fire had started by the door and we couldn’t get out.”

Prudence glared at her son. “Is what he said true?”

“No, Ma,” Jared said, his eyes brimming with wide-eyed innocence. “I didn’t do nothing.”

Prudence gloated. “You see my Jared is a good boy. I knew he shouldn’t have mixed with the likes of Dusty.”

“It was his idea,” Dusty insisted.

Rebecca hugged Dusty close. “I don’t care who started it. Don’t you realize you could have been killed?”

Bess and Mac pushed through the crowd. Mac broke away from Bess and ran to his mother. “Mama, don’t cry.”

She knelt down in front of her children. “I won’t, baby.”

Stan grunted. “This is all fine and good, but my barn is destroyed. There’s no way I could ever afford to rebuild. Those boys owe me.”

Prudence sniffed. “I’m not paying one nickel. Jared said he didn’t do anything and that’s good enough for me.”

“I don’t have any money,” Dusty whispered to Rebecca.

“Then I’ll go to your Pa,” Stan insisted.

Dusty’s face paled. “If Pa finds out he’s gonna beat the daylights out of me.”

Rebecca nestled him at her side. “Mr. Farthing, I don’t have cash on hand, but I’ve still got a few bits of silver that belonged to my mother. I’ll sell those and get you your money.”

Tears streamed down Dusty’s face. “You don’t have to do that.”

Rebecca brushed the bangs from his forehead. “Of course, I do. Now stop worrying.”

“You ain’t gonna send me away?”

“Never.”

Cole climbed to his feet and stood behind Rebecca. He dug in his pocket and pulled out the sack that held the ten dollars he’d just won. He tossed it to Stan. “That’s a down payment. I’ll pay the difference in a few days. When you’re ready to raise a new barn, call me. I’ll drive the first nail.”

Stan stared at the leather pouch. “The boy ain’t yours. Why you standing up for him?”

“He’s my responsibility now. Good or bad.”

Rebecca knew then that she’d been wrong to keep Mac’s identity a secret from Cole. Father and son deserved to know each other. She’d keep her vow to God and tell him the truth as soon as they got home. “Cole, you don’t have to do this.”

His jaw was set firm. “Yes, I do.”

She leaned into him and rested her head against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

Cole wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Stan, are you willing to accept the settlement?”

The coins clinked in the sack as Stan jingled it in his hand. “I suppose.”

Wade cleared his throat. “The other half will come from Jared’s ma.”

Prudence stomped her foot. “I will not pay.”

Wade glared at her. “Dusty has had his scrapes with trouble but your boy ain’t as pure as the driven snow, either. You’ll match Cole’s ten dollars or spend time in jail.”

Prudence’s jaw dropped. “I won’t.”

Wade dug his thumbs in his belt loop and puffed out his chest. “You will.”

Prudence shook her finger at Rebecca. “This is all her fault.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Miss Rebecca didn’t have anything to do with the fire.”

“She took that boy into her home.”

“An act of Christian kindness,” Wade said.

Unhearing, Prudence shook her head. “She’s so desperate for a child, she takes in strays from t

he street.”

Gladys Applegate stepped forward. “That’s enough out of you, Prudence. It’s time to go home and calm our nerves.”

But Prudence wouldn’t be pacified. “No, it’s her fault. We’d be all better off, if she hadn’t taken in Dusty or Lily’s child.”

Chapter Eleven

“Lily’s child?” Cole faced Rebecca. His gaze hardened. His body grew rigid. “Mac is Lily’s child? My child?”

Everyone stood in stunned silence. Only the hiss of the dying fire and the whinny of a horse penetrated the unnatural quiet.

Rebecca scooped Mac up and hugged him close. “Cole, let me explain.”

Cole’s eyes glittered like shards of glass. “Is he my son?” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

“L-let me explain,” she stammered.

“Is he my son?” he shouted.

“Yes, but—”

Cole sliced his hand through the air, silencing her. His gaze shot past her to Mac and he stared at the boy with fresh eyes. Gently, he raised his soot-covered hand to Mac’s small face and caressed the soft skin.

Cole held out his hands to Mac who, unmindful of the turmoil, willingly leaned toward him.

Rebecca tried to cling to the boy, but Cole pulled him from her arms. Her throat tightened. The physical separation stirred panic inside her. “I want to hold my son.”

Anger clouded Cole’s gaze. “He’s my son, not yours.”