Mail Order Brides of Band of Sister Outlaws (A Western Romance Book)

Chapter 09

The smoke choked Anne as she held Clara close. The fire had spread faster than she would have thought possible. The bottle Joseph had thrown engulfed the bed curtains in flames almost at once, and they quickly spread to the floor. Anne searched for a way out of the room. Clara cried as Anne found it harder and harder to breathe. The air was growing warm around them. Her head was light. Her knees gave out, and she tumbled to the ground, clutching her baby as Clara's cries wailed through the air.

Edward heard Clara before he'd even entered the building. George, Emma, and Mary had followed him as he ran toward the brothel. They saw the flames licking the sky, and Mary screamed. It brought back the memory of their farm on fire, of their father burning in it as Mary tried desperately to get to him.

"Anne!" Mary and Emma cried, rushing toward the burning building. Their efforts were rebuffed when a large flame burst through the front door and singed their hair. The brothel's workers stood around watching the flames while their clients retreated from the building, eager to place as much distance between it and them as they could.

Despite the intensity of the flames, Edward would not be dissuaded. "It is suicide if you go in there now," George told him, trying to hold him back. "They are lost."

"They are not lost!" Edward cried. "They are my wife and child, and I will not let them perish!" He drew away from George and ran to the only window left that did not have flames pouring out of it. He broke it with one swift kick of his heel and felt the shards of glass sink into his ankle.

"Edward!" George called, but Edward ignored him. He had heard Clara's cries and knew she and Anne were close. God was leading him to them. He took a deep breath and ran up the stairs. He opened the wrong door and was greeted with an angry flame that sprung up and threw itself at him. Clara's cries sounded once more, and he thought that surely it was God giving her breath enough to cry like that.

He opened the next door in the hallway, and this time he chose correctly. Anne lay on the floor, her knees curled to her chest. Clara lay against her. Anne was still breathing, but her eyes were closed. Clara looked at him, as if imploring Edward for help.

He rushed to their side, kneeling down long enough to feel for Anne's pulse. It was weak, but it was there. It was a miracle that Clara was still alive. He scooped Clara into one arm and threw Anne over his shoulder. He made his way back down the stairs, which he was certain were on the verge of collapse. When he got to the front door, his path out was blocked by a thick patch of orange and red flames.

"No!" he cried, cradling Clara more tightly to him. He hand wrapped around Anne's legs as he searched frantically for another way out. He would not let Anne and Clara die. He could not. He loved them both too much.

"Please, God. Forgive me for my lack of strength. For not understanding before when Anne tried to tell me why she had done what she did. She is a good woman and does not deserve to perish in these flames. Please, guide me to safe passage."

"Here!" a voice cried out.

At first, Edward thought he was imagining things. Then the voice cried again. "Edward! Here!" He looked to his right and saw Mary outside a window. She had forced it open and was reaching her arms into the building. Edward ran to her and handed Clara to her. Mary passed her to Emma, who passed her to their mother, who had shown up when she'd seen the smoke.

"Come on," Mary cried. "Hurry."

"Take Anne first," Edward said, handing Anne's limp body through the window. Mary grabbed hold, almost dropping her. Emma came to her aid, and when Edward looked again, George was there as well. He took Anne and carried her far from the flames as Edward made his way out of the building now, flames licking at his heels. Emma and Mary helped him out, each loaning him an arm as he spilled out of the window.