Page 74 of In Honor’s Defense

She did as instructed, quickly fitting his hat to his head, then adding the blanket curtain and wrapping it around Luke’s arms.

“If there’s any water left,” he said, “drizzle it over your hair and down the front of your legs. Then use the skirt as a shield. We’re going to run through together. You’ll guard him from the front, and I’ll cover the back.”

Her gaze settled on her nephew, then hardened with determination. She used every last drop of the water, then took her place in front of him.

Luke clasped the blanket in one hand and fixed his other above Damaris’s hip. He leaned close to her ear. “Ready?”

She hoisted the skirt in front of her face and nodded. “Ready.”

His fingers tightened around her as he leaned forward. “Go!”

Damaris took off. Luke matched her stride for stride. She screamed as she leapt through the flames. His heart clutched at the sound an instant before the heat of Hades swept over his body.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

Damaris’s feet left the ground as a powerful hand launched her into the air from behind. The heat of a thousand ovens engulfed her, tearing a scream from her throat. When she landed on the other side, she tumbled and rolled. Without her petticoats to tangle her legs, she jumped up, tossed her skirt shield away from her, and did a quick patting inventory to make sure she wasn’t on fire. Not feeling any searing pain, she turned to look for Nathaniel and Luke.

Like a dragon unfurling its wings, Luke opened his arms wide and shrugged off the blanket. Nathaniel unhooked his legs from Luke’s waist and slid down to stand on his own.

Damaris rushed to her nephew’s side. “Are you all right?”

He coughed but nodded.

She craned her neck left and right, checking every inch of him just to be sure, but he looked unscathed.

Luke, on the other hand, had steam rising from his back and was yanking shirttails from his trousers with desperate hands. She didn’t see any actual flames, but something was burning him. Perhaps the blanket had still been smoldering when she draped it over him.

She ran to the wagon. The washtub barely had a quarter inch of water in the bottom, but when tilted, it made a decent-sized pool.

Grabbing the tub, she ran back to Luke and shouted for him to get on his knees. He dropped. She poured. Then she tossed the tub aside and slid her hands up under his shirt, tenting it away from his skin.

He sighed, then relaxed. Then slowly rose, his height pulling his shirt back into place and leaving her fingers to trail slowly down the muscular ridges of his back.

When he turned, the look in his eyes seared her heart more fully than the fire around them seared the earth. “Damaris?” His voice rasped as he cupped her face. “You’re all right?”

Tears misted her eyes at the awe in his tone. She nodded, her lips pressed together to keep them from trembling as the shock began to set in.

With one tug, he clutched her to his chest. His other hand reached for Nathaniel and pulled him into the embrace as well. “Thank you, God,” he murmured as his arms tightened around them. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

A flood of emotions swelled within Damaris’s breast as she held on to the two people most important to her in all the world. Not only had God spared their lives, but he’d brought them together and formed a family. For nothing had ever felt so right as the three of them clinging to one another, everything stripped away except what truly mattered—love and gratitude. For each other, and for their Savior.

Nathaniel pulled away first. He turned to face Damaris, a protective fierceness about him that reminded her of Luke. “How’s your head?”

Bringing it to her attention made it start throbbing. She reached a hand to the back of her head and probed gently at the knot that had formed. “It’s sore, but I’ll be fine.”

Luke drew her in front of him so he could examine the wound. “Did you fall?”

Nathaniel scowled. “Only after the rustler knocked her on the skull with his pistol butt.”

“What?” Luke’s roar nearly deafened her.

“I saw him, Luke. The rustler who attacked us that night. He set the fire by our wagon.”

A wracking cough interrupted Nathaniel’s explanation. Damaris hurried to his side and rubbed his back. Once he had his breathing back under control he stepped away from her cosseting and moved closer to Luke.

“I think he set the main fire, too. After he conked Aunt Maris, he came after me. Tried to strangle me.” His hand moved to his throat, and Damaris bit her lip, recalling how close she’d come to losing him. “The snake kept goin’ on about how tragic it would be for the last Baxter male to be found burned to a crisp in an unfortunate prairie fire. How no one would ever know my demise had been helped along. If Aunt Maris hadn’t flattened him . . .”