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Phillip jumped off before his horse had fully stopped. “Keating?”
“Crops are burning, my lord. The men are doing what they can but…”
Phillip bit his lower lip, not at all pleased with this. “Where is Fyre?”
Keating shook his head. “We’ve not seen her all day, since she stopped by after you.” He pointed a maid in a direction. “She was not here long, then left.”
His gut rolled. “Find her. I am going to the fields.”
“My lord.”
He shook his head, refusing to budge the slightest bit on this. “Keating. Find her. She is my everything. Make sure everyone is ready to leave if the wind shifts. Everyone.”
“My lord, she will not listen to me.” A wave of shame crossed his features. “She does not trust me.”
Possessiveness hit him but he had no time for postulating. “Are you one of those betraying me?”
Keating looked positively disgusted by the possibility. “Absolutely not, my lord.”
“Then find her. I have to help the men. Keep her safe.” With that, he swung back into the saddle.
He leaned forward over the horse’s muscular neck, urging the creature onward. Men ran, sweating and hauling water as fast as they could. Some were digging. It was organized chaos. Same as before, he was off before the horse fully stopped. Philip tossed the reins to Amand, one of his workers, and strode toward Everett, the man who oversaw the workers.
“Where do you need me?”
Everett finished speaking with another and wiped the sweat from his face, smearing the soot on his dark skin.
“We are losing the far field.” A coughing spell for a moment before he got himself back under control. “I pulled the men to try and save the other field. It was my choice not—”
“I put you in charge because I trust you.” Phillip realized these words were true. These people were becoming his family. “You would not let it burn for no reason. Are we sure everyone is out of that area?”
Everett nodded. “I sent Otis to double-check.”
“Good. Now, where do you want me?” Everett had a horrified expression on his face. “You know better than I, Everett. I just arrived. You have doled out resources. That is what I am. A resource. Use me.”
A moment’s pause.
“There.” He pointed off to the left. “Bernie is heading the trench digging. We hope to stop the flames from jumping.”
“Got it.”
Long strides took him there and he skimmed the area for Bernie, heading to him the moment he located him.
Sooner rather than later he was once again drenched in sweat as he worked beside his men, and this time the land they fought to save was his own.
* * * *
It hurt to breathe.
Fyre tried to gather some moisture in her mouth but she wasn’t able to do so. And she couldn’t call out for she had been gagged. She struggled, but that didn’t do anything for her.
How the hell did she get here? Why was she stuck out in one of the fields? God, her mind was so muddled. Her head ached and her mouth was dry. Sure, the scratchy burlap shoved in her mouth wasn’t helping any. The last thing she remembered was leaving Phillip after overhearing him and Mr. Caulfield.
God, had she gone from one hellish situation directly into another? Considering her plight… Yes, the answer would most definitely be yes.
Someone walked up beside her, she could hear the crunching of their boots against the ground. The covering on her eyes was removed and she blinked to take in Cara standing over her.
Hatred completely engulfed her sister-in-law’s features.
“You are such a pain in the ass.”
Unable to speak, Fyre just waited for her sister-in-law to continue. Behind her, blackness began to cover the sun and fear struck her. She knew those weren’t clouds. That was smoke. Which meant something near was burning. And a lot of it.
Memories burst to life as fear took root and held with the force of the sea. Fire. Smoke. Open flames. She’d nearly died from this before when she was a child. It had been a miracle all she had left from that were the nightmares and scars.
Not just the smell, she could hear it. The living, breathing flame. The crackle as it ate anything and everything in its path, insatiable.
Panic grew in her chest, lodging there and making it more difficult for her to catch her breath. Her skin flushed and grew increasingly sweaty. Sure, it could be from the rapidly increasing heat, but she was positive the sweat was from her approaching panic. The tightness in her chest grew with the oxygen fading. She wriggled her fingers and toes, trying to stave off the tingling.
How will I get out of this?
She tried to smack her lips around the sack wedged in her mouth. The air tasted of ash.
“You should have stayed away from the earl.” Cara shook her head. “You are not fit to be in his place, at his side. We were born to serve.”
