“Come on, Lydia. I can’t leave you here unprotected from Poe.” Detective Lawson waved her toward the door.
She slipped past him, casting one last glance at her career turning to ashes. He pulled the door closed and followed her as she rushed out the front door to join the fire brigade.
CHAPTER29
ADARK CLOUD OF SMOKEbillowed behind Plane Manor as Abraham’s hack pulled into the drive. Calls for buckets and water mingled with Miss Plane’s hysterical screams.
Had the kitchen caught fire? More importantly, had everyone gotten out of the house?
Abraham jumped to the ground and raced around the side of the mansion to find the source of smoke. The carriage house, not the manor, crackled beneath the wrath of the roaring flames climbing the building’s back corner. By the looks of it, the fire hadn’t been going long, but it was quickly eating up wood.
Mrs. Pelton and Miss Madelyn burst through the kitchen door carrying all manner of pots and bowls. The officers who’d spent the night waiting to pounce on Billy Poe now pounced on the water vessels and sped toward the water pump, where Dr. Pelton primed it with the vigor of a man half his age. A yapping puppy darted in between and around legs. One officer caught himself before falling, but a second skidded forward across a dirt patch. Two women—probably the friends Lydia had spoken of—physically restrained Miss Plane, whose screams clearly stated her intent to barge into the burning building to save her animals.
Colonel Plane raced past Abraham and flung open the carriage house doors. A smattering of barn kittens sprinted out, quickly disappearing into the hedges and the safety beyond.
Miss Plane broke free and sprinted inside. Her two friends hesitated, then rushed after her.
Three friends, but no Lydia.
His heart jolted at the realization, and his eyes once again roved each face. Setting the carriage house on fire would serve as the perfect distraction for Poe to kidnap Lydia.
“Theresa! Nora! Flossie! No!” Lydia’s scream came from the front corner of the house.
Abraham whirled in her direction. Lydia darted toward the carriage house’s doors, intent on joining her friends in needless danger. While he admired her foolish bravery, he wasn’t about to allow her to add to the number of those who might need rescued from a collapsed building. He stepped in her path and caught her around the waist before she made it past.
She shoved against his chest. “Let me go. I’ve got to help them.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“Abraham Hall, if you don’t let me go, I’m going to knock you off your feet in a way that doesn’t involve lips.”
“Do what you must, but you can’t go in there.”
Two horses pounded out of the carriage house, wild-eyed and willing to barrel over anyone in their way.
Abraham jerked Lydia and himself out of their trajectory and held tight as Lydia fought against him. Her heel stomped on his toes. Her elbow slammed into his gut, and she attempted to kick off his legs to lurch forward. She didn’t claw at his face like some arrestees had in the past, so maybe she wasn’t fighting as hard as she could. He hoped not. If this was the best she could fight, Poe would have no trouble overpowering her.
Miss Plane sped out of the building with a bleating Tipsy in her arms and her two friends right behind. Colonel Plane followed, waving his coat at a brood of hens, directing the squawking and confused birds from danger.
Lydia slumped in his arms, her voice choked. “Thank God they’re okay.”
He waited until he was certain the three women were far enough away from the carriage house that they wouldn’t race back inside, then released Lydia.
She stumbled forward, calling them a thesaurus full of words for their foolish behavior as she went.
Abraham kept close to her heels. Poe was nearby. He had to be. There was no other reason for the carriage house to catch fire. They weren’t in a drought. The sky was clear of clouds or the possibility of lightning. Nothing contained within that building would lead to a spontaneous fire.
“Quit your mother-henning and go help the others put out the fire.” Miss Plane sidestepped Lydia’s wagging finger, and continued her determined march. “I’m taking Tipsy to the kitchen to tend her burns.”
The look Lydia shot Miss Plane expressed both the desire to strangle the woman and a sisterly love that felt relief at her safety. “Flossie, Nora, run to the neighbors’ and rouse more hands and buckets.”
The women hustled off, and Lydia strode toward the fire.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Abraham kept close, scanning their surroundings for Poe.
“Joining the fire brigade, just like you.”
He had every intention of hauling buckets, but a woman in skirts near an unpredictable flame was as dangerous as leaving her unguarded. “Help your father at the water pump. I don’t want you near that blaze.” Or alone.
