Page 54

Bent over, wheezing and coughing, his hands clasping his chest, Simon staggered from the front entrance. He collapsed to his knees several feet away and covered his face with his hands.

“I couldn’t find him.” Rocking back and forth, he moaned, the sound so anguished and animalistic, Eden’s flesh prickled. “I couldn’t find my son. Oh God. What have I done?”

“Father?” Prentice whimpered. “Is my brother going to die?”

He might already be dead.

Arms open wide, Simon silently beckoned his younger son.

Prentice ran to him and threw himself into his father’s arms. They clung to each other, weeping.

Tears burned behind her lids as Eden tortured her lower lip, her hands pressed to her belly.

Where was Chester? He should have come out by now.

“Chester,” she screamed, hugging herself. “Chester!”

She couldn’t lose him too. Not when she’d admitted what he meant to her.

He couldn’t remain inside much longer. The roof was going to cave in. No one could survive that.

Mind made up, she unfastened the frogs at her throat.

She had to try.

As she swung the cloak from her shoulders, Prentice cried out and pointed. “Look!”

She jerked her attention to the side of the cottage.

His face all grim angles and lines, Chester, holding Timothy, sprinted past where the rose bushes used to be. Timothy clung to him as he bolted away from the shuddering and groaning building.

“Timothy!” Simon scrambled to his feet, and as he lifted Prentice to his hip, ran to his son.

Chester lowered Timothy onto the grass.

The child lay back, coughing. Face crumpled and eyes squeezed shut, his small chest rose and fell rapidly as he strove to suck in fresh air.

Chester, too, lay sprawled on his back, one arm across his closed eyes. Smudges of soot covered his hands, and sparks had singed his shirt and trousers in several places.

His dear face too.

Eyes overflowing, Eden dropped to her knees beside them. She pressed a kiss to Timothy’s reddened cheek.

“My darling, I’m so very, very glad you are safe.”

Simon squatted next to his son and touched his cheek just below a penny-sized burn.

“I’m sorry I disobeyed you, Father.” Lower lip quivering, Timothy did his utmost to be a stoic little fellow. “I know I deserve to be punished.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry, son. I’ve been such a bitter fool, and I almost lost you.”

Simon swiped at the wetness on his face as he gathered his son into his arms.

“We’d best move farther away.” Chester labored to stand, and Simon offered him his hand.

After the merest hesitation, Chester accepted his assistance.

Eden picked Prentice up, and Simon gathered Timothy in his arms. They hustled across the lane to the orchard beside Simon’s nervous mount. They’d no sooner turned to look at the fully engulfed cottage than the roof gave way, shooting sparks and flames skyward ten feet or more