“Bethie, get up! Fire!”
She threw open the door, smelled smoke, found Nicholas standing on her doorstep, his horse saddled, the reins in his hands. Behind him Dorcas and her calf ran in panicked circles.
“Get Isabelle! Now! Hurry!”
“But I’m no’ dress—”
“There’s no time for that! Come!”
She tossed the rifle to him, ran to Isabelle’s cradle, snatched her baby up, ran back to the open door. She had just managed to grab her shawl from its hook, when Nicholas scooped her up, swung her out the door, lifted her onto his stallion’s back.
The animal pranced and whinnied, but Nicholas kept a firm grip on its bridle.
“There isn’t time to adjust the stirrups, so hold on tight! Keep one hand in his mane, and hold on to Belle with all your strength. Bend low over his back!”
“But the animals—”
In her arms, Belle began to wail.
“There isn’t time! Ride south! Stop for nothing! Go!” He released his hold, slapped the horse hard on the rump.
Bethie screamed, clutched Belle to her breast, as the stallion surged forward, a thousand pounds of muscle and sinew exploding into motion beneath her.
And then, in a moment so full of horror that it seemed to last forever, she saw.
The night sky glowing orange. A stampede of flames. The tiny cabin in its path.
Tongues of fire drifted through the air, settled on the cabin’s roof.
“Nicholas!” She shouted for him over the roar of the blaze, caught only a glimpse of him as he ran back toward the stable before the stallion plunged headlong into the forest away from the inferno.
Nicholas!
Had he made it? Had he gotten away? Was he riding one of the mares?
Already she could feel the fire’s heat.
Smoke caught in her throat, stung her eyes.
Gripped by terror, she fisted her hand in the stallion’s coarse mane, clenched its flank with her thighs, bent over Isabelle, squeezed her eyes shut, prayed.
Nicholas!
The jarring thud of hooves against loam. The scrape of branches against bare skin. The gust of breath from the stallion’s nostrils as it plunged through the trees. The roar of the fire.
Bethie lifted her head, forced her stinging eyes open.
The forest in front of them glowed as if in the light of an unnatural dawn. Deer fled before the stallion’s churning hooves, their dun hides glowing red. Streamers of flame flew from treetop to treetop overhead, dropped to the ground around them like burning raindrops.
The fire was overtaking them. And if it was overtaking them...
A sob caught in her throat.
Nicholas!
The heat grew almost unbearable, and she held Belle closer, determined to shield her baby from the blistering wind.
She felt the stallion pick up its pace, saw the flare of its nostrils as it fought for breath.
