Page 72 of In Honor’s Defense

Where was she? Why hadn’t she driven away? Did she think she could fight the rogue fire on her own?

Terror like he’d never felt surged through his chest. Please, God. Wherever she is, get me to her in time.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-THREE

Where was she? Damaris groaned and reached a hand to the back of her head where a sharp pain jabbed at her skull. All at once, memories flooded her consciousness. The flash of a new fire. Calling Nathaniel to get in the wagon. Him running toward her, shouting for her to look out. Something striking her from behind.

No. Not something. Someone.

Damaris shoved up from the ground and pushed to her feet. “Nathaniel?”

A wall of fire formed a semicircle around her, cutting her off from the wagon and the water and blankets it carried. Heat from the flames scorched her face. Dark smoke clouded her vision, stirring panic in her breast.

“Nathaniel!” A cough choked her as she tried to inhale and call again.

Oh, Lord. Help me find him!

Something moved to her left. Crooking her elbow around her mouth to reduce the amount of smoke she inhaled, she stumbled in that direction. Her eyes watered and burned, but she peered through the haze and spotted a shadowy form. Two forms. Struggling. A man held her nephew from behind, an arm wrapped around his throat. Nathaniel kicked and tugged on the man’s arm, but the villain gave no quarter.

“Get away from him!” Damaris charged.

She rammed the man holding Nathaniel at full speed. Hitting him felt like hitting a fence post, but her momentum caused him to lose his balance and stagger backward, releasing his hold on her nephew. Nathaniel crumpled to the ground, fighting to get air into his lungs.

“You shoulda left well enough alone, lady,” the man sneered. His thick mustache twitched as he spoke, and his dark eyes scanned her with derision. “I was gonna give you a chance, but now you’ll just have to die with the boy.” He drew a wicked-looking hunting knife from his belt and brandished it.

She dropped to her nephew’s side and cupped an arm around his back, helping him sit up.

The man, tanned from years of outdoor living, backtracked a few steps to where a horse stood waiting. “It’s a right shame that prairie fires are so hazardous.”

He reached for a canteen slung over his saddle horn and unscrewed the lid. Instead of taking a drink, however, he poured the liquid over the grass in a long line. It took a moment for her to register the pungent, oily smell over the smoke already hanging thick in the air.

Kerosene!

“You never know when a stray spark will set a new section ablaze and kill the very people fighting it.” He pulled a match from his pocket and struck it with his thumbnail.

“No!” Damaris jumped to her feet, but it was too late.

With a raspy laugh, he dropped the lit match onto the kerosene-soaked grass in front of him. A new wall of flame roared to life. It spread right and left, joining up with the existing fire and completely circling them. Cutting them off from any escape.

Snatching her skirt back from the flames, Damaris rushed to Nathaniel’s side. She grabbed his arm and tried to hoist him to his feet.

“Get up. We have to find a way out.”

He leaned on her and levered himself to his feet, but his coughs kept him doubled over. He trembled against her, still weak from his near-strangulation, and almost fell to the ground again when he tried to walk. Damaris forced his arm around her neck and held on to that hand while she supported his back with her other.

The fire ate up the grass and crept closer, shrinking the circle. She searched for an opening, any opening, but found nothing. Her only hope was for one of the men to notice the new fire behind the break and investigate, but they were so focused on the main fire that the chances of rescue were slim.

She stumbled in the direction of her wagon anyway, her spirit crying to the Lord for help.

“Don’t worry, Nathaniel. I’ll get you out.” Somehow.

Maybe she could take off her skirt and wrap it around his head and shoulders. If it caught, she could fling it off of him as soon as they cleared the ring.

And if her own clothing caught? Damaris clamped her jaw tight. Such thoughts accomplished nothing. Her job was to save her nephew. She’d focus on that and leave the rest in God’s hands.

Luke reached the Baxter wagon and confirmed that Damaris and Nate weren’t there. He checked the bed and even peered underneath to be sure, but found nothing beyond a bunch of empty pails and washtubs.