Page 64

He moaned, and she swung to face Samuel.

“He’s still alive!” she choked. “Can you free him?”

Another creak sounded above them. The wall shuddered, and Samuel did not hesitate. Lunging across the short distance that divided them, he threw himself over Hannah a fraction of a second before a section of the roof came crashing down around them. He felt her trembling beneath him, but the fire and shifting timber drowned out any sound she may have made.

He placed his mouth to her ear. “One attempt, Hannah. I will lift the beam. If you can pull Alfie free, we escape together. If not, you must leave here directly and join your father at the carriage.”

He felt her head shake.

“I gave your father my word, Hannah.” He took a breath and coughed. It would behoove him to save his energy for lifting the beam, but he had to extract this promise from her. “I beg you. You must do this.”

She shifted beneath him, turning her head so that her mouth was at his ear. “We shall manage it the first time,” she croaked. “I believe in you, Samuel.”

The wonder of those words rang in his ears as he scrambled to the end of the beam. Had she truly meant what she’d said? With the flames on the staircase licking ever closer, he had no time to think, only to act. Squatting before the end of the beam, he wrapped his arms around it. He and his crewmates had moved the splintered mast after the American attack. It had taken six men, but they had needed to completely relocate it. He had only to lift this one a few inches and hold it upright long enough for Hannah to drag Alfie clear.

The newly caved-in roof may have offered the smoke a means of escape, but the air remained dangerously toxic. Hannah coughed. Samuel could make out her form crouched over Alfie’s head. Praying she had the strength to move the boy, Samuel braced his feet.

“On two,” he gasped.

“Two?”

She likely wondered if she’d misheard him, but he had no time to explain. Sailors rowed back and forth. They pulled rope with a heave and a ho. Two was a rhythm he understood. Two was faster than three.

“One. Two.” The moment the second word escaped his mouth, he lifted.

The beam shifted. Shadows flickered wildly as the flames on the other end of the long piece of wood swayed, reaching for the sky through the broken roof. He strained to lift it higher, clenching his jaw as his muscles tightened and his lungs screamed for clean air. He could not call out, not without taking in so much smoke that he would be reduced to coughing and lose his grip. Hannah’s silhouette moved. He heard the scrape of something against the floor. His hands slipped. He dug the tips of his fingers into the splintering wood, clawing for control.

“I have him!”

At Hannah’s gasping words, Samuel dropped his load. His shoulders sagged with relief, but it was short-lived. Stumbling to Hannah’s side, he reached for Alfie. Scooping him into his arms, Samuel raised him off the floor. Compared to the beam, the boy weighed nothing.

“Hurry, Hannah!” Samuel’s chest felt like it might explode. Every intake of breath hurt; none gave him the oxygen he needed.

Another creak sounded above them. Hannah lifted her skirts and started for the exit. Samuel followed in her wake, bursting through the door and into the alley as the wall behind him gave way. Hannah grabbed his sleeve, and together they staggered farther down the alley and toward the wharf. Shouts rent the air, and men—many with buckets in hand—raced past them. Samuel forced one foot in front of the other until, at last, they reached the quay and could move away from the burning building. They’d almost made it as far as the next warehouse when Alfie stirred.

“Where ya takin’ me?” he muttered, one arm flailing weakly.

The unexpected movement broke Samuel’s stride, and all momentum instantly failed him. He stopped, wheezing heavily.

“Set him down, Samuel,” Hannah croaked. “You cannot go any longer.”

Knowing she was right, he bent his knees and clumsily slid Alfie onto the ground. Hannah dropped to the ground beside him. Samuel took a ragged breath and began to cough. His chest tightened as he gasped for breath.

She clutched Samuel’s arm. “Slowly,” she urged. “Slowly.”

He lowered his head, breathing more consciously in through his nose and out through his mouth. “For-Forgive me,” he managed before another coughing spell started. “This sh-shall pass soon enough. But if you are s-strong enough, you must go to your father. He will be sick with worry.”

“You . . .” She shook her head, struggling for breath herself. “You are the most remarkable man I know, Samuel Ross.” And then, in the darkness, while they were both covered in soot and ash, she leaned forward and brushed his filthy cheek with her lips.

For three full heartbeats, it was as if Samuel were turned to stone. Even his coughing ceased. Somehow, despite the raw pain in his throat and chest, he forced himself to continue breathing. He blinked his stinging eyes. Had smoke-induced lightheadedness caused him to imagine the gesture? Hannah was now bent over Alfie. If she had truly kissed his cheek, she was seemingly oblivious to the fact that she had just shifted Samuel’s world off its axis.

“Alfie!” She cleared her throat. “Alfie, can you hear me?”

“M-Miss?” Alfie’s croak was barely audible. “Ya came back!”

“Of course I did. Mr. Ross was able to lift the beam. He . . . he carried you out.”

“Mr. R-Ross?” Alfie rasped.