Alaska Home: Falling for Him / Ending in Marriage / Midnight Sons and Daughters

“For a walk.” He hoped the brevity of his response would give Scott the hint.

“Someone’s playing cowboys and Indians,” Scott said conversationally.

“Really?”

“Yup, they’re sending signals.” Scott stopped, hands on his hips. “They’re not doing it right, though. Look.” He pointed toward the cabins where Mariah lived. “See all that smoke?”

“Smoke?”

Christian whirled around, and sure enough, a trail of dark smoke spiraled upward. His heart kicked into gear. “Those aren’t smoke signals,” he shouted. “That’s a fire!”

Six (#u453d56e5-c6c8-59f0-8853-357b477852cd)

Fire. Mariah’s heart hammered against her rib cage as she fought her overwhelming panic.

At first she tried to battle down the flames, but her puny efforts only seemed to make matters worse. The blaze came out from the pipes that led from her stove and licked ravenously at the old wood.

Soon the room was engulfed in smoke. Mariah choked and coughed, struggling to breathe. Grabbing what clothes she could, she staggered outside.

Air. Beautiful clean air filled her lungs. She sucked in a deep breath and immediately had a coughing fit. With no time to spare, she dragged in another lungful, then hurried back into the burning cabin for her purse.

Blinded by the smoke, she fumbled about helplessly, seeking her important papers, plus the most precious item she owned, the little jade bear. She could not lose that to the fire. All at once her mind wouldn’t function properly. Where, oh where, had she left her purse? And the bear—wasn’t it on her nightstand?

“Mariah!”

Someone yelled her name, but it sounded as if it had come from a great distance. She felt herself weakening, needing desperately to breathe. The smoke dulled her senses, but she refused to give up, refused to leave until she’d found the jade bear and her purse.

“Mariah!” Whoever sought her was much closer now. Her name came to her, sounding frantic and fearful.

“Here.” How pitifully weak she felt. Not until she saw a pair of men’s shoes did she realize she was on the floor.

Strong arms scooped her up and carried her out the door.

Air again. Beautiful, clean air.

She breathed in deeply, coughed again and staggered back toward the house.

“Mariah, are you crazy?” Christian stopped her by circling his arms about her waist. “You can’t go back.”

“But—”

“Nothing in there is worth dying for, damn it!”

He didn’t understand what she was after, so she fought him, using every ounce of strength she possessed. She tugged and pulled but made no headway against his superior strength.

“Mariah,” he said, turning her around. “Stop!” His fingers dug unmercifully into her shoulders. The fire hissed and spit, the heat so fierce it was suffocating.

“My purse, the bear...”

“Bear? What bear?”

In the distance Mariah heard the fire siren, piercing the evening with its urgency, screaming tragedy to the entire town.

“My purse and your gift—I need them.” She’d lost everything, but her mind focused on the two things she valued most. She was thinking less and less clearly. So little made sense.

“You mean to tell me you risked your fool neck over your purse?” Christian shouted.

She jerked her elbows from side to side, futilely seeking release. “Let me go!”

“Not on your life,” he said, none too gently. “Not on your life.”

The bright yellow fire truck screeched to a stop in front of the burning cabin. Five or six men moved with impressive agility to free the hose. Their figures blurred as they worked together.

Mariah recognized Sawyer and Mitch Harris and Marvin Gold, who were all members of the volunteer fire department. She wanted to tell them to hurry, but even as the words worked their way up her throat, she knew it was too late. All was lost—her home and everything inside it. No hope remained.

With his arm wrapped protectively around her, Christian drew her away from her cabin, which was by now fully engulfed in flames. A chill came over her as she stood by and silently watched the fire swallow up everything she owned, every possession, save the armful of clothes she’d managed to snatch.

A breathless Dotty Livengood arrived, having raced over from her home. “Is Mariah all right?” She directed the question at Christian.

“I don’t know.”

“Let me check her.”

“Mariah.” Before Dotty reached her, Christian placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Were you burned?”

Mariah saw his lips move and heard the words, but it was as though he was standing on the other side of a glass wall. Nothing seemed to touch her, to penetrate her confusion and loss. The question took several minutes to register. Was she hurt? Had she been burned? She felt no pain, not physical at least. Only loss, deep and personal loss.

“Her hands.” This comment came from Christian, and it seemed to her, even from this emotional distance, that he was angry, frustrated. “It looks like she blistered her fingers.”

“She must have tried to put out the fire herself.” Dotty’s gentle voice soothed her.

“I can’t believe what she just did,” Christian muttered. “I had to drag her out of the house. She was after her purse and some silly figurine I gave her. She risked her life for a forty-dollar piece of jade.” His anger spilled out of him like water hissing against a hot burner.

“Christian.” It was Dotty again, her voice forceful. “Calm down.”

“I can’t!” he shouted. “Do you realize she could have died in there? If I hadn’t arrived when I did, no one would’ve been able to save her. We barely got out in time.”

“Take several deep breaths,” Dotty said. “You’ve both had a fright, but you’re safe now. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Her purse and a figurine! She was willing to die trying to save them!” The rage in Christian seemed to intensify as the other men dealt with the fire. He began to pace, his steps awkward and abrupt as he attempted to manage his anger.

Mariah was only now beginning to comprehend what had happened. She wasn’t sure how the fire had started; all she knew was that she’d lit her stove, trying to chase away the chill. It’d been weeks since she’d lit the thing, and there must have been something in the chimney, because a few minutes later the pipe started to glow. The dry cabin wall behind it caught fire and then, in almost no time, the curtains. The flames roared across the room so quickly, they’d been impossible to stop.

“Take her over to the clinic,” Dotty instructed Christian. “I’ll tend to those burns.”

Others were arriving now, children and adults alike. Their eyes filled with sympathy and fear.

“Go,” Dotty told Christian.