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“But Jeannie and Adams are safe for now,” he quickly added. “This building is new, so the wood is fresh and shouldn’t burn too fast.”
She made a visible effort to control her fear. “What can we do?”
He stepped back, looking for footholds on the building. Unfortunately, it was built too damn well for him to scale the wall to an upper window.
“We need a ladder, or something I can climb on and get purchase on that window sill.”
She whipped around. “The horse—”
But it had bolted, because Grant had been chasing after her instead of lashing him to the gate.
“There’s a work shed around the back,” he said. “I’ll look there for a ladder or something else first. You go round the other side of the building and see if you can find anything.”
She raced off while he ran around the building to the shed. Smoke and blazing heat poured out from a broken window where the arsonist had gained entry.
The shed door was locked. Ignoring his watering eyes, he drove a kick just above the lock that knocked the door half off its hinges. A quick survey of the room—mostly by feel—told him there was no damn ladder. He found an axe, though, and snatched it up just in case.
Outside again, he searched the back of the distillery for a way in. The back door was too near the stairs, which were now almost engulfed in flames. He’d have to try to scale up the building somehow and hope he didn’t slip on the whitewashed walls and tumble down, splitting open his skull.
He was looking for handholds, when Kathleen came pelting toward him.
“I found one,” she gasped. “At the north end of the building. It was just lying there in the grass.”
Thank God.
“Grant, where are you?” roared a familiar voice.
A moment later, his twin stalked around the corner. They rushed to meet him.
“Jeannie’s inside, upstairs,” gasped Kathleen. “With the watchman. But there’s a—”
“Ladder, I know,” Graeme said. “Captain Brown is already on it. He and the others will get Jeannie and Adams out.”
Kathleen took off, racing around the corner of the building.
“We’ve got to get this bloody fire out before the casks go up,” Graeme said.
“Do we have enough equipment for a bucket brigade?” Grant asked.
“Aye, but not enough to get around from the stream to the front of the building. We’ve got to get that back door open.”
“Agreed. But it’s damn close to the fire. It’ll be hot as Hades, and I doubt the key will even work in the lock.”
Graeme shoved a frustrated hand through his hair, making it stand straight up. “It’s a bloody sturdy door. We’ll have to take that axe to it, and then kick it open.”
They could now hear shouts from the front of the building. Sabrina came pelting around the corner to join them, the greatcoat over her gown flapping out behind her. When she reached them, she bent over, gasping to catch her breath.
Graeme crouched down beside her. “Love, are you all right?”
“I . . . I just ran the whole way, that’s all.” She straightened up with a grimace. “Angus says the fire is getting close to the casks.“
Graeme nodded. “We’re going to get this door open. Tell Angus to bring the men back here with the buckets.”
“What about Jeannie and Adams?” Grant asked Sabrina.
“The captain was bringing Jeannie down when I arrived,” she said.
“Good. Now hurry and get Angus and the others, all right?” Graeme said.
