Page 73 of In Honor’s Defense

“Damaris!” His gaze turned toward the fire even as his heart prayed he wouldn’t find what he most feared. “Nate! Where are you?”

Flames danced as high as his waist, taunting him. Thick smoke obscured his vision and stung his eyes. He set his jaw. Either Damaris was safely away, or she was in that fire. Either way, the fire had to die before it spread. Otherwise all their efforts on the main front would be for naught.

He backtracked to the wagon bed and grabbed a blanket. Two pails still held water. He dumped one into a larger washtub and dunked the blanket into it. He rolled it around until it absorbed all the water, then squeezed out what little extra remained.

With forced stoicism, he marched toward the flames, blanket over his shoulder. As he closed in on the wall of fire, a movement on the other side drew his attention. Was that a . . . person?

“Damaris!” All stoicism gone, he ran to the edge of the flames and peered through them. The heat burned his face, but he didn’t back away. “Damaris!”

“Luke!”

He caught his name over the crackle of the fire, and his heart soared. She was alive! For now. “I’m coming! Hang on!”

He sprinted back to the wagon and grabbed the last pail of water. His heart demanded he race back, but he needed every drop of that water, so he forced himself to keep to a smooth canter instead of an all-out gallop.

“‘Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.’” Luke quoted the promise made to Israel, his soul praying that the words might also apply to him and those he loved this day. “‘When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee.’” His eyes locked on the ground before him, watching each step to ensure he didn’t misplace a foot and lose the water he carried. “‘. . . and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.’”

Reaching the edge of the flames, he set the pail down on a flat section of ground. Then tugged the wet blanket off his shoulder and opened it wide. He draped it over his head, using his hat brim as a shield to preserve a small field of vision. The fabric fell heavy over his back and wrapped around his arms like a giant shawl. He picked up the bucket, then tucked both arms as close to his torso as he could without jostling his cargo.

He tipped back his head. Heat scorched his face. He searched for the best entry point and set his jaw.

“‘When thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned,’” he quoted, his voice ringing loud in defiance of the wall in front of him. “‘Neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.’”

Raising one blanketed arm to shelter his face, he ducked his head and ran forward, shouting, “‘For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy one of Israel, thy Saviour.’”

“Luke!”

As soon as he cleared the inferno, someone wrapped his back in a hug. He pulled away immediately, not wanting Damaris to try to extinguish any flames with her hands or clothing. His woman had grit in spades, though, and refused to relinquish her hold. The blanket peeled from his body, taking his hat from his head. He had to move fast to free it from his arms before her enthusiasm sent the water cascading from the bucket he held.

After setting the pail down an arm’s length away from him, he spun to face Damaris, ready to pull her away from any flame that could leap onto her clothes or sear her skin. But the sight of her so startled him that he couldn’t move.

The prim and proper Miss Damaris Baxter was stomping out the last few smoldering spots on his blanket, wearing only her drawers. Well, not only her drawers. Her shirtwaist was still in place and buttoned to her chin per usual, though it took him a couple of heartbeats to get past the outline of her legs to notice. Other oddities jumped out at him as well. Like the fact that her skirt was wrapped around her hands like a protective bandage and a giant white kerchief was tied around her neck like a cowboy’s bandana. A piece of her petticoat?

She looked up and caught him staring, then immediately unwound the skirt fabric and held it in front of her.

“I was planning to run Nathaniel through the flames right before you got here.” She ducked her face away from him. “I thought less fabric volume might give me a slightly better chance of getting through unscathed.”

Without water to deter the flames? Lord, have mercy. She never would have made it.

Back in charge of his senses, Luke strode forward and grabbed her arms. “You’re a brave woman.”

He did a quick visual sweep of the area. The flames were closing in around them quickly. Odd that they had formed a circle and not moved forward from a single point of origin. Had there been multiple sparks and separate fires that joined into one?

His gaze snagged on Nate, and the puzzle of the fire’s formation vanished from his mind. The kid looked shaky, hunched over and hacking into the remainder of his aunt’s wadded-up petticoat. He couldn’t take much more of this smoke.

“I’m going to get Nate. Take your skirt and dampen it in the water, but save as much as you can.”

Damaris nodded. “Got it.”

Luke hurried to Nate’s side and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Climb on my front and wrap your legs tight around my waist.”

Nate’s eyes looked glazed over, but he nodded. Luke grabbed him beneath the arms like he would a toddler and hugged him close. It would be easier to carry the kid on his back, but Luke wasn’t about to risk the blanket catching fire with Nate underneath.

Back protesting the weight, he tromped over to Damaris. “Your skirt wet?”

Her eyes met his as she straightened from bending over the bucket. Fear and trust mingled in her gaze. “Yes.”

“Good. Get my blanket and turn it scorched side in, then drape it over my back. Make sure Nate’s legs are covered.”