Page 84 of I Do, I Do, I Do
Clara scrambled up. There was no hope of beating out this fire. It was too hot, and spreading with stunning speed. “We have to get out!” Frantically, she looked around for something to cover her bare feet.
“Here.” Bear tossed her two mismatched boots, a pair of his trousers, and a vest. “Go directly to the door and get out. I’ll come as soon as I find our coats in the rubble.”
She glanced at the fire, then up at his face. The fire was sweeping across the ceiling. “If you don’t find the coats, immediately—”
“I’ll get out. Go!”
Clutching the boots and clothing to her chest, Clara stumbled to the bedroom door. “Bear! The smashed end is on fire, too!” Smoke curling in the corner burst into fire with a soft whooshing sound and flames crawled over the rubble.
“This simply isn’t possible. I don’t…Go, honey girl, move!”
Slipping and sliding, she inched upward toward the outside door, now at the highest point of the lopsided cabin. The doorway would be four or five feet above the ground, and she’d have to jump. That wasn’t a problem. The frigid cold would be. She tried not to wonder how long they could survive without adequate clothing. Long enough to walk a mile back to the Lake Bennett camp? Not now, think about it later. Right now, all she had to do was get out.
At the steepest slant, her feet went out from under her, and she would have slid helplessly down the length of the living room and into the flames if Bear hadn’t caught her. Gripping his shoulders, she watched the boots and extra clothing tumble toward the corner and disappear into the smoke and fire.
Her eyes widened, and she stared at him. She was going to jump out of the burning cabin wearing only a shirt. “One thing at a time,” he said, understanding. “First we get out. Then, there should be some extra blankets in the kennel.”
Nodding, she turned and half crawled, half climbed to the door. All she had to do was touch the latch and the door swung inward. Instantly a rush of numbing cold raised goose bumps on her bare legs and throat.
In front of her, the shadow of the house wavered across the snow, its outline framed in flickering red and orange. She had an absurd urge to hold her nose as she jumped out of the burning house as if she were jumping into water instead of snow. The instant she hit the snow, she rolled out of the way so Bear could jump after her.
She heard him hit the ground as she pushed to her feet, feeling first an icy cold on her toes and soles, then a burning sensation.
“Clara! I figured it out. This is an ambush! Get down!”
She heard a whack and stupidly stared at a flying chip gouged out of the cabin side. Then Bear was in front of her, his big hands pushing on her shoulders.
He stiffened, his fingers dug into her flesh, then he arched backward and fell in the snow, rolling to rest facedown. To her horror, she saw blood on his back. Lifting her head, confused and horrified, she peered toward the woods.
She heard the shot just as a burning punch struck her in the shoulder and spun her around. Before she fell, another bullet ripped through her side.
Chapter 20
A Canadian named Dilly Dame offered the use of his cabin for Clara’s recuperation. Mrs. Eddington and her husband took Bear in with them. Clara and Bear were seriously but not critically wounded; both had lost a lot of blood and suffered minor frostbite before the men found them. Had the fire not been spotted leaping above the trees, and a group of men hadn’t rushed up the mountainside to offer assistance, Clara and Bear would have frozen or bled to death.
Zoe leaned back in the chair beside Clara’s bed and closed her eyes, wondering if there was anything she had overlooked. Tom had removed the bullet in Clara’s shoulder. The bullet that struck Clara’s side and the bullet in Bear’s shoulder had both passed through, leaving ragged exit wounds. Those were the injuries that worried Zoe most.
Zoe had cleaned Clara’s wounds with alcohol and packed them with surgeon’s lint. She and Mrs. Eddington gave their patients regular doses of tincture of aconite to fight inflammation. They soaked the blistered frostbitten areas in kerosene oil. They insisted that their patients wear slings so as not to jostle healing shoulders. Zoe reminded herself that Clara and Bear were strong and healthy, and in fact, five days after the event, both were on the mend.
“I’m ready to be up and about,” Clara stubbornly insisted. But less than a minute later she covered a yawn and her lashes fluttered sleepily.
Zoe helped her sit up and offered a tin cup of water. “Rest is what you need now.”
“The fever’s gone, and I’m fine. Just tired. How is Bear doing?”
“Very well,” Zoe assured her. “But Mrs. Eddington says he’s a terrible patient. She doesn’t think she can keep him inside another day. She says she’s wearing herself to a nub trotting over here four times a day, but if she doesn’t get reports about you, Bear starts putting on his coat to come himself.”
Clara eased back to her pillow, favoring the side where she’d been shot. “Now I know why you and Juliette cry at night,” she said softly, closing her eyes. “Oh, Zoe, I love him so much, but it’s hopeless. What are we going to do?”
Zoe asked herself the same question a dozen times a day. Every time Tom said something that indicated he assumed they would marry, she shriveled a little more inside, liked herself a little less. “I wish we’d told the truth from the beginning,” she said finally. “Maybe we’d have become laughingstocks and a favorite target for gossip. And maybe Tom and Ben and Bear would not have come courting.” She blinked hard at the log ceiling. “But we wouldn’t feel deceitful and dishonest every time they look at us. Maybe we’d have a little self-respect.” When she lowered her head, she discovered she was talking to herself. Clara had fallen asleep.
Clara was still sleeping when Juliette returned from checking on Bear and popped her head into the bedroom. She examined Clara, then beckoned to Zoe.
“We need to talk,” Juliette said quietly, heading for Mr. Dame’s small kitchen.
“It must be important if it can’t wait until you take off your coat and mittens.”
Making a face, Juliette tossed her hat and mittens on the sideboard, then poured them each a cup of strong coffee before she removed her coat and sat at the table.
