“Come on,” Erna said with sudden resolve. “We need to find the others. We’ve got to do something.”
They hurried inside, abandoning their afternoon of knitting for the urgency of action. The two women knew that every moment mattered now, and their feet pounded the wooden floorboards as they gathered water and supplies.
Hours dragged by, each minute heavier than the last, until finally, dust-covered riders approached in the twilight. Joel was among them, his face grim and his shoulders slumped in a way that made Erna’s stomach knot with worry.
“Joel!” she called out, running to meet him. “What happened?”
“Outsiders,” he said curtly, dismounting with an exhausted groan. “It was a distraction. While we were putting out the fire, they hit Aaron’s place hard.”
Erna felt Deborah’s hand grip hers, squeezing tight enough to hurt. “Aaron?” Deborah’s voice was barely a whisper, laced with fear.
“Wounded,” Joel replied. “But alive. You should’ve seen your sister, Erna. Deborah fought like a wildcat, defending the ranch till we got there.”
“Is he—will he be okay?” Erna asked, her voice cracking.
“Doc’s with him now,” Joel said, offering what reassurance he could. “She held down the fort, literally. Sheriff came and took them away, every one of them wounded. Your sister can shoot!”
IT WASN’T UNTIL THEfollowing day, that Joel found Erna sitting alone on the porch steps. His silhouette was stooped, a stark contrast to his usual sturdy posture.
“Erna,” Joel began, his voice catching in his throat, “the fire was a ruse. It burned through our grazing land.”
Erna’s heart lurched. She rose to stand beside him, reaching out to grasp his hand. “How bad?”
“Bad enough,” Joel admitted, staring out at the charred expanse where lush grass once waved under the Texas sky. “Took me six years to save for that land. It was supposed to be our future.”
“Joel,” Erna said softly, squeezing his hand. “We can handle this.”
Joel’s gaze lingered on the scorched earth that stretched before them. All he could see were his shattered dreams He turned to Erna, the furrow in his brow deepening. “Erna, there’s not much left for us here. Not now. Maybe you should head over to Faith and Kane’s place for a spell. Just until I figure things out.”
“Joel, I’m not leaving you to shoulder this alone.”
“Times are lean,” he insisted, his voice a gruff murmur that matched the rustling of the charred prairie grass. “I can’t promise you more than hard work and longer days.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Erna’s smile broke through the worry that creased her face, as warm and inviting as the smell of fresh bread from her oven. “Hard work never scared me, Joel Trinity. And as for longer days...” She leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “It just means more time with you.”
Joel chuckled despite the weight on his shoulders. “You’re a stubborn woman, Erna.”
“Only about the important things,” she said. “Joel, we’re a team.” Erna’s hand found his as they stood by the corral underthe vast Texas sky, still flushed with the day’s relentless heat. “Nothing will change that, not fire, nor drought, nor outsiders.”
Joel looked down at their interlocked fingers, the lines in his face softening. “Erna, it isn’t right for you to stay in this mess. You deserve...”
“Deserve?” Erna cut him off, shaking her head. “I don’t care about what I deserve. I care about us, and right now, us means sticking together.”
Erna argued until she was blue in the face, but nothing worked. The next morning she packed a small suitcase. She hesitated, then reached for the miniature dollhouse that sat atop the dresser.
“Thought you might want this over there,” Joel said from the doorway, watching as she tucked the dollhouse under her arm.
“Thanks, Joel.” Her eyes met his, a silent promise passing between them. “Won’t be but a few days. Just until the dust settles.”
“Take your time, Erna. Faith and Kane will look after you,” he replied, the corners of his mouth lifting in a half-smile.
With a nod, Erna made her way across the yard, the dollhouse secure in her grasp. Joel had already hitched the wagon up, and she put the house in the back, placing it carefully.
“Erna!” Faith called out from the porch as she approached, her voice carrying the same light-heartedness it always did.
“Hey, Faith,” Erna responded, stepping onto the wooden boards of the porch with a reassuring creak. “Brought my dollhouse. Figured I could use the distraction.”
“Perfect,” Faith said, opening the door wider. “We’ll set you up right here by the window. Best light for painting those tiny shutters, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” Erna agreed, placing the dollhouse on the table Faith had cleared.
She looked at the dollhouse, and then out the window at her husband as he drove away. She understood why he wanted her there, but she wanted to be with him. He must not feel as much for her as she did for him.
