At last he slowed to a halt. His shoulders drooped and he took a few steps back, though he never turned away from the cabin. Dinah moved forward to his side and wrapped her arms around him. The two of them stood there, forms desolate.
Patience focused on the burning ruin, her mind refusing to comprehend the truth. Jonah couldn't be gone. Not like this. Not when they'd just found each other. Not when she'd finally begun to hope for a future, for a place to belong.
Tears blurred her vision. Around her, the Coulters stood in shocked silence, their expressions mirroring the devastation she felt.
Jericho held a weeping Dinah, his own eyes bright with unshed tears.
Jude and Gil stared at the flames, their jaws clenched, while Miles bowed his head, his shoulders shaking.
Patience's knees gave out, and she sank to the ground, a wail of pure agony tearing from her throat. She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking back and forth as sobs wracked her body.
He was gone. The man she loved was gone. The one—the only one who'd seen past her defenses and offered her a glimpse of what a real home could be.
The sobs forced their way out, the pain too great to contain.
She'd kept Jonah at arm's length for so long, fearful of letting him in, of being vulnerable. If only she'd been brave enough to tell him how much he meant to her. If only she'd cherished every moment instead of holding back, always keeping one foot out the door.
Now it was too late. She'd never see his crooked grin again, never feel the strength of his arms around her. Never get to build the life she'd begun to envision for them.
As the cabin collapsed in on itself, the flames reaching toward the darkening sky, Patience let the grief consume her. Let it strip away every defense, every wall she'd ever built.
None of it mattered anymore. The only thing that had ever truly mattered was gone, and she might not survive the breaking of her heart.
CHAPTER 15
Smoke billowed in thick, black plumes against the gray sky as Jonah sprinted uphill, his heart hammering relentlessly with each gasping breath. The acrid smell of burning timber assaulted his nostrils, growing stronger every second.
That had to be his cabin. How could a fire have started? The cookstove had held no live coals, he’d made sure of it.
His mind raced as his boots pounded the rocky trail. He had been down by the stream, washing his bucket and fetching fresh water, when he spotted the group on horseback, a wagon trailing the strangers as they rode hard away from the mine and the main house.
Instinct had propelled Jonah to follow them, but on foot, he was no match for their speed. That was when he’d seen smoke rising in the distance.
That was when raw panic had seized him.
As he crested the final ridge, he stumbled to a halt, his chest heaving.
The scene before him felt like a nightmare. It couldn’t be real.
The cabin was completely engulfed in flames, the wooden beams collapsing in on themselves as they charred and smoldered.
Months of painstaking labor, all reduced to ash and embers. How? How could it have happened? How could he haveletit happen?
He clenched his fists, fighting back the hot sting of tears. Everything he had worked for, the home he’d been planning to offer Patsy, had just gone up in flames.
"Jonah!" The shout of his name broke through his haze. He turned to see his brothers running toward him. And Patsy.
Jericho, Miles, and the others crowded around him, tugging and hugging and clamoring with questions.
“What happened?”
“Where were you?”
“You scared the hayseed outta us.”
Then Patsy was there, launching into his arms.
He folded her in, confused, still struggling to move past the fire. He stared over the top of her head at the smoldering remains. His cabin. Destroyed.
