Page 144 of In These Hills

She shook her head, laudanum containing alcohol. Plus, the last thing she wanted—with Clay Darden still alive—was for her senses to be dulled.

“All right then. I’ll be back shortly to apply a salve that’ll help with the pain.”

He packed his satchel and hurried away, and she struggled to see Clay Darden through the crowd, same as Dodge. Not until Doc Wyatt knelt down beside him could they get a clear view. Darden was not moving.

Dodge leaned down and kissed her forehead, once, twice. “I’m so sorry, Josephine.” He brushed the hair back from her face. “I should have been here. Are you . . . all right?”

She nodded. “It hurts, but I think what Doc Wyatt did is helping.”

“No. What I’m asking is—” Whatever it was, the words didn’t seem to want to leave him. “Did Darden hurt you?”

Catching the echo of Doc Wyatt’s earlier question in Dodge’s now, the meaning behind the word swiftly became clear. But it was the unmistakable love in Dodge’s voice—in the gentleness with which he touched her—that brought a sob.

“Oh God . . .” He bowed his head. “I’ll kill him.”

She forced his gaze back to hers. “No, Dodge. He did not hurt me. Not like that.”

He stared as if not believing her. “But the bodice of your dress is—it’s ripped, so I thought—”

She looked down at his suit jacket as memory tripped back over itself to that moment in the kitchen. “Darden hit me and I fell. I remember him dragging me up by the front of my dress. It must have torn then.” She cradled his cheek. “But he did not hurt me in that way.” Her chin trembled, and she doubted her voice would hold. “But he did try.”

A deep exhale, and he brought her hand clasped in his to his mouth and kissed it hard, then looked back to where Doc Wyatt continued to work on Darden. “Tell me what happened.”

The steel in his voice warned her against trying to spare him any detail. “I was leaving the party and tried to leave through the front door, but there were too many people. I couldn’t get out. So I decided to find the kitchen and leave that way . . .” She told him everything and he never looked away. Not once.

By the time she finished, she felt empty of tears. Not only from having to relive the experience, but from reliving it through his eyes.

“Uncle Dodge!”

They turned to see Bethie running straight for them, Jessie hot on her heels, and Miss Mary and Calla a short distance behind.

“Would you help me sit up, please?” Josephine asked, and he slowly eased her upright then covered her again with his coat. She painstakingly slipped her injured hand into her lap, clenching her jaw against the pain.

Bethie threw her arms around his neck. “Are you okay, Uncle Dodge?”

“I’m fine, Bethie girl.” He held her tight, then gave Jessie a rub. “But Mrs. Dunham is hurt.”

Concern knit the girl’s brow. “Anything I can do for you, ma’am?”

“You just did, Bethie. Thank you.” Her head swam a little, and she took deep breaths, aware of Dodge watching her.

Bethie regaled them with how she and others at Miss Mary’s had heard what sounded like a thunderclap. “We were all sitting there in the kitchen, then got up and ran to the street. That’s when we saw the smoke.”

Miss Mary and Calla joined them, Miss Mary kneeling down. “Josephine, are you all right? Dodge, what happened?”

Calla came alongside. “People saying the stills must’ve got too hot and blew to—”

A whooshing sound like wind rushing through a tunnel, then a sharp crack—and the roof of the stillhouse collapsed. Flames hissed as embers shot high into the night sky. Boarding house tenants stood a few yards away—Tom Motlow, Roughton Waggoner, Mr. Parks, Miss Livvy, and others—watching it all.

“Some of the stills did blow up,” Dodge said. “But we’ll need time to sort out all the details.” He glanced at Bethie, obviously choosing his words carefully. “Mrs. Dunham’s hand got badly burned and—” He paused mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing.

Josephine quickly trailed his gaze and couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Clay Darden lifted his head, his arms flailing as though he were trying to fend off some unseen enemy. Doc Wyatt barked an order, and a group of men lifted him and hurriedly carried him toward town.

“Who is that?” Bethie asked. “Did he get burned too?”

“My questions exactly,” Miss Mary added.

“We can talk more about that after we get Mrs. Dunham back to the boarding house.” Dodge carefully helped her up. “I can carry you,” he whispered.