“Don’t be distressed, Layla. I just wanted to tell you about a conversation I had with Jack this morning. Before I went to see the sheriff, he caught me out by the stables. He apologized for his part in the debacle with George Winn, and I forgave him.”
“You did?” Layla’s hand went to her chest as she asked quietly.
Mark nodded. “It seemed like the right thing to do. I’ve known Jack for years, and I think he genuinely feels sorry for what he did. I’m sure it will take some time to repair our friendship, but I welcomed him back to his old job and forgave him at once.”
“Oh, Mark,” Layla cried. “I’m so happy for you. I’ve been praying that God would help you with this … and it seems He has.” She put her soft hand on top of his and squeezed.
He leaned in toward her, and he whispered tenderly, “God has given us many blessings, Layla. And I’m feeling very thankful.” She blushed profusely, and Mark thought she had never looked lovelier with the pink touching her cheeks and the firelight glowing behind her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Something’s burning,” Layla spat her thoughts aloud as she jolted out of sleep. She had been dreaming about making breakfast, and the dream biscuits she’d been making were burning. She sat up in her bed now and twisted the quilt around her.Just a dream,Layla thought and rolled onto her right shoulder.
But as she moved, the air stirred around her, and Layla detected an unpleasant odor in the air. Alarmed, she bolted upright and lifted her head so she could sniff the air. She dropped the quilt from her tight grasp, slid out of bed, and stuck her head out into the hall.
It was pitch black, and while she couldn’t see anything, the scent that had awakened her was acrid in the air. Layla brought the thin sleeve of her white cotton nightdress up to her face, covering her mouth and nose. As she did so, she rushed to Mark’s bed chambers, not even knocking on the door before racing inside.
“Mark,” Layla said as she forcefully grabbed his shoulder and tugged on it.
“Layla?” Mark replied groggily. His eyes blinked rapidly, trying to focus on her in the darkness of the room.
“It’s me, Mark,” she said, attempting to clear up his confusion.
“What are you doing in here?” Mark sat up and swung his legs onto the wooden floor. He was wearing a pair of cotton trousers and a red and green plaid flannel shirt on top of his typical nightclothes since the house had been particularly chilly when they had all gone to bed that evening.
“I think I smell smoke,” Layla told him quickly.
“Smoke?” Mark asked, his nose twitching. He must have smelled the same odor that Layla did as his dark eyes grew wide. “I’ll get Heath. You get your father. Meet out front.”
Layla nodded. Mark raced out the door and toward Heath’s room, but Layla did as Mark had instructed. She rushed down the stairs toward her father’s bedroom. As she came to the bottom of the stairs, the smell of smoke was more pronounced, making Layla’s heart beat erratically. Her mind flew to her father and getting him out of the house safely.
“Father,” she called out, unsure of the source of the smoke, but was certain it was on the bottom floor somewhere. Her eyes adjusted enough to check the hearth in the sitting room, but the embers had died out long before. But Layla heard a crackling, and light emanated from the kitchen. Her breath caught in her throat as she knew a fire was blazing there. She had to get her family out of here.
“Father,” she called out as she ran to Emmett’s room. “Father!” she shouted frantically. Now that she knew it wasn’t just smoke in the house but a full-on fire, she was terrified.
“Layla?” Emmett yelled back as his door opened, and he appeared, framed in the doorway. His curtains were pushed aside, and the moon glinted in through the window.
“Come with me,” Layla ordered as she held out her hands to her father.
“What’s wrong? What’s happening? What’s that smell?” Emmett asked as he took Layla’s hands. She pushed him ahead with her hands firmly on his back and gently shoved him toward the front door.
“There’s a fire in the kitchen. We need to get out of here. Now!” Layla said, and as she did, she coughed forcefully. Before, she had only been able to smell the smoke, but now she could see it, too. She and her father were surrounded by thick, black smoke. It floated to the ceiling first, then it settled around them.
“Go, Father! Go!” Layla shouted, putting pressure on him from behind. Emmett started coughing, too, as Layla guided him. She yanked him through rooms, and her eyes stung from squinting through the dark smoke. Her lungs ached, but she did her best to get them both out of the house as quickly as she could.
When they emerged onto the porch, Layla sucked in a quick gulp of the night air. It was a blessed relief. She lifted her head to the heavens and thanked God that she and her father had made it out of there safely.
Layla heard Mark call out, “Layla!” Mark was standing about twenty feet away in the yard, holding Heath safely in his arms.
“Mark!” Layla shouted. She dragged her father down the steps and into the yard. When they reached Mark and Heath, Emmett sunk to his knees at Mark’s feet.
“Father!” Layla gasped as she also bent over and hacked out a cough.
“I’m fine,” Emmett wheezed. One hand clutched his chest then waved at Layla. “I’ll be fine. I just … got to … get the bad air … out.”
Layla’s shoulders shook as she tried to do the same thing. A cough rattled out of her.
Mark placed a heavy hand on Layla’s back, patting her in between her shoulder blades. “It’s going to be all right, Layla. I got Heath out quickly, so he is just fine. And it looks like you and your father were unhurt.”
