The Rancher (17 page)

"Where's my pa!"

"He's saving the horses," Laurel
shouted, hoping the girl could hear her over the noise.

Alexandra's eyes widened moments
before she turned back to the barn. When Laurel reached the last
step, the girl ran, screaming for her father.

Laurel hadn't had the need to
run in longer than she could remember but catching Alexandra was
harder than it should have been. She reached her at the edge of the
barnyard, wrapping her arms around her waist as the frightened
horses ran from the barn and past them as if they weren't standing
there.

The heat was intense, the smoke
breath stealing and Laurel pulled at Alexandra, tugging her
backwards and away from the blaze as the girl screamed and fought
her.

They both toppled to the ground
and Laurel thought they'd both be trampled by the horses that were
trying to escape the blaze. She struggled to stay calm, regained
her feet while holding onto Alexandra, and picked the girl up
awkwardly, running back toward the house.

"Let me go! My pa's in
there!"

"I know, sweetheart. But he
can't get the horses if he has to worry about you."

Alexandra Avery was made of
sterner stuff than most children Laurel had encountered but seeing
her now, crying and trying to get to her father, let her know that
deep down, she was just a frightened little girl like other ten
year olds were. Laurel struggled to hold her and ended up back on
her knees, her arms wrapped around Alexandra in a death grip.
"He'll be fine, Alexandra. Please, stop fighting. He'll be all
right."

It wasn't until that last,
stuttered sentence, that Laurel realized she was crying as hard as
Alexandra was. She held the girl to her, stared into the barn and
willed Holden to come out.

The fire had leapt to the roof
and was working its way to the other side of the building. Laurel
could see faint shapes inside, moving, but she couldn’t be sure it
wasn't just smoke. She'd never been inside the barn but could only
imagine the amounts of dry hay stored there. The entire thing was a
death trap.

Thoughts of Holden filled her
head as she sat there on the ground with Alexandra watching that
building burn. Things she wished she'd said, done, when she'd had
the chance. As the men inside came rushing out, their voices
carrying on the wind, everyone froze, watching in horror as the
left side of the building collapsed. Alexandra screamed and Laurel
bit her tongue until she tasted blood to keep from doing the
same.

Alexandra struggled, flinging
her arms, her legs thrashing as she tried to break Laurel's hold,
and they were both crying in earnest by the time Holden emerged
from the building. Laurel's relief was so profound, she loosened
her grip on Alexandra and the girl jumped to her feet and ran.

Holden staggered away from the
blaze, collapsing to his hands and knees coughing. His brothers
were behind him, all of them covered in black soot. Laurel
struggled to her feet, staring at Holden as he lifted his head in
time to catch Alexandra, who flung herself at him. He sat up on his
knees, wrapped the girl in his embrace as his gaze sought her out.
When she caught his eye, Laurel sucked in a breath and ran to him,
a flash of white shining on his face as he smiled.

She fell to her knees in front
of him, wrapped her arms around his neck and the three of them sat
for long minutes, the barn burning behind them. "Are you hurt?"
Laurel asked, her voice scratchy.

Holden shook his head. "No, I'm
fine."

He was covered in soot, his
clothes singed in places and Laurel pulled back from him enough to
see his face. She wiped a hand across his cheeks, smearing sweat
and soot, and kissed him without a care for the mess. "I love you,"
she whispered against his mouth.

He laughed, the sound coming out
rough and raw. "I know you do, woman. And it's about damn time you
admitted it."

Alexandra's face was buried
against Holden's shoulder but she lifted her head then and looked
up at her. She didn't say a word, the look on her face solemn.

Everyone moved to the house,
Morgan, Colt and Tristan all being coddled by their wives and
Laurel helped Holden to his feet. They walked back across the yard,
Holden's arms draped around both her and Alexandra's shoulders. She
sat him on the steps, watched as Alexandra nestled into his side
and left them there, venturing into the house and searching every
room until she entered the kitchen.

She found a water bucket, filled
it from the pump over the sink and wrapped her fingers around as
many handled cups as she could before walking back through the
house and outside.

With the help of Abigail and
Emmaline, they spent the next hour making sure everyone had water,
the small burns they'd suffered cleaned and when the ranch hands
made their way slowly back toward the bunk house, Laurel wiped a
hand over her brow. The Avery clan was still there on the porch,
Sarah sitting in one of the rockers with Emma and Elizabeth perched
on her disappearing lap due to her swelling belly. The men lingered
around the railing, still coughing occasionally, dirty from head to
toe and smelling of smoke. The barn had collapsed, the fire only
smoldering but it would take clear to morning before the flames
died completely.

Morgan, Colt and Tristan
collected their families and after a few quiet words with Holden,
they all loaded back into the wagon the women had used to bring
them to the main house, the men collecting their horses. Laurel
watched them but turned her attention to James when he took her by
the elbow. "Take me to my room," he said, his gruff voice startling
her. "I'm ready for bed."

Holden turned his head to look
at them and raised one eyebrow before smiling. Laurel shrugged one
shoulder at him before opening the door and helping James into the
house.

"There you go, Mr. Avery," she
said, as they reached his bedroom door. "Is there anything I can
get you?"

He didn't turn to look at her
but said, "No. Go see to my boy, though. He looks like hell."

Laurel grinned when James shut
the door in her face, his words still playing in her mind. She
turned, walked back out onto the porch and noticed everyone was
gone. It was then she realized her ride home was as well and Holden
was in no shape to venture into town, regardless of what he'd think
about the matter.

His black stallion was still
tied to the post by the house, the other horses left to wander in
the pasture. She wasn't an exceptional rider but if one of the
ranch hands couldn't see her back to town, she was positive she
could make it there on that stallion with little problem.

Holden stood with the help of
the hand rail on the steps and he waited for Alexandra to stand
before he turned to the house. "Let's go wash up," he told her.
"And get you ready for bed."

There was a refusal on
Alexandra's tongue, her mouth open to voice it but a glance at her
father stopped it. She nodded her head and, holding on to his
arm―to help him up the stairs or from her own fear of letting him
go, Laurel didn't know which―they took the stairs one at a time
until they reached the top.

Alexandra reached for the door
and it wasn't until she moved away from Holden's side that Laurel
noticed his shirt was singed, his skin red and irritated. Her eyes
widened but one look from Holden and she bit her tongue. He hadn't
said a word when they were cleaning wounds and she figured
Alexandra was the reason. She was already scared. If she knew he
was hurt, she'd never settle down.

"Alex, go on up and get ready
for bed. I'll be up to tuck you in once I've had a chance to clean
up."

The girl looked ready to refuse
and Laurel smiled, extended her hand and said, "Come on. I'll come
with you while your father washes the soot off of himself."

Alexandra looked as if she
wanted to decline the offer but didn't. She didn't take Laurel's
offered hand, either, but she didn't say anything when Laurel
followed her up the stairs.

She entered the first room on
the right and Laurel smiled as she took in the space. It was
nothing like she imagined it would be. It was decorated in pink,
and lace curtains hung at the windows, and Laurel was taken aback
by the sight. Alexandra tossed her a look over her shoulder and
shrugged, as if to say, she knew the room wasn't her.

Laurel crossed the threshold,
pushed the door shut and walked to the bed, folding down the
blankets as Alexandra kicked off her boots and started unbuttoning
her shirt. She undressed in silence and Laurel kept her back to her
until Alexandra said, "Okay. You can look."

Dressed in a long white
nightgown, her pigtails trailing over her shoulders, she looked
every bit the girl she was. Laurel looked to the dresser, saw her
hairbrush and crossed the space toward it. "Let's get your hair
brushed out and re-braided, then you can climb into bed and wait
for your father to come up."

Alexandra's eyes widened a
fraction but she didn't say anything. Laurel grabbed the brush,
approached the girl and started taking down her pigtails. With the
first stroke of the brush in her hair, Alexandra's posture relaxed.
Her shoulder sagging as if she'd been holding the weight of the
world on them.

Brushing the tangles from her
hair, Laurel said, "Your mother must have had hair this color."

"She did." Alexandra stood a bit
straighter. "There's a picture of her on the dresser."

Laurel turned her head and sure
enough, a small photograph sat amongst the other gewgaws Alexandra
had filling the surface. "She was very beautiful."

"Yeah. My pa said she was the
purdiest thing he'd ever seen. When Grandpa bought this land and
moved them all out here, my ma's family was already living here and
pa seen her when they went to school." She yawned, her jaw cracking
from the effort. "There wasn't no schoolhouse then, though. They
just met out by that old tree in town on warm days and pa said she
sat down right beside of him and smiled at him. He said he was
taken with her right then."

Laurel laid the brush down and
gathered Alexandra's hair, separating it into three strands to
braid it. "How old were they?"

Alexandra giggled and shook her
head. "Pa said he was fourteen. I can't imagine wanting to marry
someone at that age. I can't imagine wanting to marry anyone at
all."

"Well, you'll change your mind
about that soon enough, trust me."

When the braid was done, Laurel
tied the end off with a ribbon and walked back to the bed, holding
the blankets back. "Hop in."

Alexandra settled, burrowing
into the covers. "My pa said all men want someone to take care of
them."

Laurel nodded her head. "Most of
them do."

The girl stared up at her for
long minutes before sighing. "Even though I still don’t like ya
much, I think it might be okay for you to marry my pa. I don't need
a new momma," she said, her eyes narrowing a fraction, "but my pa
wants someone to take care of him when he needs it and it looks
like tonight is one of those times he was talking about. If you
were his wife, then you'd always be here for when he needed
ya."

Laurel's eyes stung as she
stared down at Alexandra. She wasn't sure the girl would ever like
her but she'd more or less just given Laurel her blessing, so to
speak, to marry her father. She smiled down at her, her heart
melting for this stubborn little girl. "I'd very much like to marry
your father, Alexandra, and I promise not to mother you too much. I
probably won't be very good at it anyway seeing how I've never been
a mother before."

Alexandra yawned up at her.
"I'll show you how when you don't do something right."

She turned over in the bed,
pulled the covers up to her ears and closed her eyes. Laurel sat
there staring down at her until she heard footsteps in the hall.
Standing, she peeked out the door and saw Holden carrying a bucket
of water. He stopped and turned his head to her. "Is she ready for
bed?"

Pulling Alexandra's door shut,
she went to him, took the bucket and waited until he'd entered the
room before following him in. "She's in bed. Will probably be
asleep before you get undressed, if her yawning is any
indication."

Holden's room was smaller than
Alexandra's. It was sparsely furnished, too, with nothing more than
a bed, which no one had bothered to make up, and a four-drawer
dresser against one wall. The dresser drawers were open, clothes
spilling out over the edges and a pile of them were in a heap on
the floor.

Laurel raised one eyebrow at him
before closing the door and sitting the bucket down on the floor.
She crossed the room to where he stood and started unbuttoning his
shirt. "Judging the state of this room, Mr. Avery, I do believe you
need a wife."

He grinned down at her. "Well, I
just so happen to be looking for a wife, if you're interested."

Tugging his shirt loose from the
waistband of his pants, careful of his burned side, she smiled and
cast a glance up at his face. "I might be."

He went so still, Laurel wasn't
even sure he was breathing. She pushed his shirt over his
shoulders, pulling it down his arms and it wasn't until the ruined
material hit the floor that he moved. He cupped her face in his
hands, holding her head up so she'd look at him. "Say it."