“Yes, getting you up the stairs was quite the task, believe me. But we managed. My father helped, and Jack did, too. It seems like everyone we know has been eager to pitch in and take care of us.” Layla pursed her lips. “Eliza’s been mixing up poultices, and I’ve been spreading them on your wounds.” She gestured toward his neck and her eyes clouded with misery. “The bruises and cuts on your ribs were easy to tend to as the doctor said there wasn’t much we could do about all that, besides clean the small wound and keep the bandages wound tight.”
Mark gingerly touched his rib cage as he listened to Layla describe the extent of his injuries. It was tender there, and he noticed for the first time that there were strips of white cloth fixed around his midsection.
“What else?” Mark asked, and Layla laughed once more.
“Isn’t that enough? A few bruised ribs, a cut in your side, a bump on the head, and a neck that was wrung … I’d say that’s plenty,” Layla smiled, but Mark could tell that she was being much more nonchalant about the matter than she felt.
“Layla,” Mark said, widening his eyes at her, trying to express more than his words could say.
Her shoulders slumped, and she grabbed Mark’s hand. “I’m sorry, Mark. I’m trying to make the situation better by being funny, but I know it’s not amusing.” She fidgeted in her chair and tightened her grip on his hand. “I was terrified. I’ve been scared before, but this was different. So very different. That night … so much happened, and then …”
“Layla,” Mark repeated with some effort. “It’s all right. I was scared, too.”
“You were?” she asked, her eyes watering with unshed tears.
Mark nodded gently, thinking it was best to save his voice.
“You didn’t seem scared,” Layla said as she squeezed Mark’s hand. He rotated his head from side to side as if he wanted her to see that looks could be deceiving. He winced, wishing he hadn’t done so as his head felt funny on his neck.
Layla smoothed down a lock of Mark’s hair. “So much happened all at once,” Layla whispered. Heath made a gurgling noise, and she looked at him. Mark followed her gaze, and he saw that Heath was just playing with a large round paper ball. He was throwing it up in the air, allowing it to land next to him in the crib, and then using his small little hand to grope around so he could pick it up, tossing it skyward once more.
Layla’s clear blue eyes were sparkling with tears. “First, there was the fire. Once we were out of the house safely, I thought everything would be all right, but then—” Her tears broke free and cascaded down her cheeks. She gazed from Mark to the Bible. It looked even larger than usual when it sat on a small table.
“I know I shouldn’t have gone back inside the house. I know I shouldn’t have risked our lives to get the book, but …” She gulped, trying to speak through her tears. He made a shooshing sound, hoping he would comfort her. But she persevered. “I’m so sorry that I went back inside. I love this Bible, and I treasure it because it belonged to my mother, but I shouldn’t have gone back for it. I could have bought a new one. I could have replaced it. I can’t replace you.” She lowered her head, and her dark hair hung around her cheeks.
“Layla,” Mark said, and he let go of her hand to move the hair away from her face. “Layla,” he repeated as he slid his finger down her soft cheek and used the tip of his finger to lift her chin.
“I’m so sorry, Mark. If I hadn’t gone back inside, none of this would have happened. You wouldn’t be hurt now and—”
“No,” he said firmly. Mark wouldn’t allow her to take all the blame on herself. He let his hand drop from Layla’s face to take a drink of water and try to clear his throat again. “No … you are not to blame. George Winn—” He barely got the words out, but judging by the way Layla’s expression altered, Mark knew that she understood.
She used the back of her hand to brush away her tears. “Yes,” she sighed, “George Winn.”
Mark raised his eyebrows, hoping that Layla would understand heneededto know what had happened to George Winn. The man had not only tried to destroy his business, but he had endangered his family, set fire to his house, and tried to kill him. Mark had to know what had become of George Winn.
With a sour face, she gazed out the window. Mark was afraid she might not want to talk about what had happened, but he hoped to persuade her otherwise.
“When I showed up, George Winn was strangling you. He was on top of you. I couldn’t see much, but I knew that even though you’re taller than him, he was bigger. He had you pinned, and I could just make out the way he had his hands wrapped around your throat.” Layla shuddered slightly. “In that instant, I didn’t know what was happening. The last thing I knew for certain, you’d been two steps behind me in the house. When the roof caved in, I was sure that you were still close at hand. I helped Billy, and some of the others bring pails of water to the front of the house because we thought you would need to find a way to get out.”
“A window,” Mark whispered.
“I know that now,” Layla smiled, shaking her head dejectedly. “You must have gotten turned around inside the house, and then you were miraculously able to slip out the window in your office. But I didn’t know that at the time. I kept watching the front door until I heard a sound near the garden. When I ran back there, you were on the ground, and a man I didn’t know was on top of you, with his hands wrapped around your neck.”
Layla trembled, and Mark grazed the soft spots on his neck. “I tried to get the man off you, but I couldn’t do it. He kept right at it until the deputy stopped him.” Mark’s eyebrows rose, urging Layla to continue. “The deputy got there first, and he subdued Mr. Winn. It wasn’t until that moment that I knew who the man attacking you was.” Layla shook her head ruefully. “I should have known. I mean, who else would have been doing such a thing? But, in the heat of the moment, the thought didn’t occur to me. After the deputy put the cuffs on Mr. Winn, the sheriff and a few other lawmen appeared. They arrested Mr. Winn, having caught him in the act of trying to …” She sighed, and her shoulders fell as if unable to bear the weight of the words.
“Then you know why he did it?” Mark asked, his throat still very dry despite the water; still difficult to speak.
“Yes,” Layla said, “I know. As the sheriff and his men led George Winn away, he was hysterical. He was saying you had humiliated him and taken away his business prospects. He admitted that he wanted you dead, and he told the sheriff that he set the blaze.”
“But … how?” Mark asked, puzzled. He could’ve sworn the fire was started in the kitchen. Reasonably, it would make sense that the cooking fire had not been extinguished properly before they had all gone to bed. That was a mistake anyone could make. He had already come to terms with how the fire started.
“I’m not entirely sure …” Layla said, shaking her head in regret. “I couldn’t hear everything he was saying, as I was so focused on you, but I thought he said something about placing a barrelful of cow manure right outside the back door and setting it ablaze.”
Mark made a disgusted face. “George Winn,” Mark whispered and shook his head slowly. Layla was watching him closely, and he returned her stare. “I’m sorry,” he said at last. His throat hurt, but there were things he needed to say. “I’m sorry that you had to go through all this. I’m sorry that a man like George scared you and that you suffered because of my dealings with him.”
“Mark, you couldn’t control George Winn any more than you can control the way the wind whips through the desert.”
“You don’t think I can master the winds?” Mark asked, arching his eyebrow flippantly.
