In the three years since May died, he'd never looked at another woman. He didn't want to care about another and run the chance of losing again. All he wanted to do was live with May's daughters and May's memory. That was enough for this lifetime.
He'd never asked anyone out, or hinted that he would. He'd never even danced with a saloon girl, or flirted at a social.
But he'd kissed Karlee!
He had to be honest with her. She had a right to know he'd never marry her. He never wanted a wife or any more children to have to raise alone. His life and his bed were too full of memories to allow another woman in.
Daniel slipped the velvet ribbon back in between the folds of a book.
If he had to be honest with Karlee, he had to be honest with himself as well. He'd never kissed a woman the way he'd just kissed Karlee. Never!
When he'd decided to kiss her, it had just been something he planned to get over with and go on. He could understand how a woman who'd never been kissed might want to know what it was like. He'd thought to deliver a hard, cold, impersonal kiss and be done with it.
But before he'd gotten up enough nerve to do it, she demanded he forget the request and ran away. And he'd snapped. First she told him what to do, then she told him not to do it.
Daniel paced around the dark room wishing he could shove the walls away. Everything in the barn was too small. Everything in the house was too small. Suddenly this town, this state, this planet was too small.
Without looking back, he left the barn and headed toward the edge of town. He'd walk out his frustration, then he would come back and work in his shop until his eyes refused to stay open. Then, maybe, he'd be able to get a few hours of sleep before he apologized to Karlee.
He almost ran until he reached Big Cypress Creek. As always, the ancient trees welcomed him. Their shadows invited him to disappear into the folds. The sounds of the night were not slight and recognizable as they had been when he was a boy in Corydon, Indiana. Here, the calls of the night were a hundred low cries beating together in a rhythm dark and forbidding. The water along the shore didn't lap in welcome, but ebbed and flowed as if wanting to pull all life into its depths.
“May,” he called, knowing he'd see her face in the water. “May.”
He stared harder. The wind whistled through ancient branches, calling her name to Heaven.
“May!”
For the first time, he couldn't summon the face of his sweet, young wife. She'd been his life, the reason he did everything. He forced his eyes closed and tried to picture her in his mind, but tonight the image wasn't clear. She was only a shadow moving through his memories. He remembered their long talks, but the subjects escaped him. He thought of the times they'd laughed, but couldn't think of the reason. The nights of lovemaking drifted thought his mind, but the feel of passion no longer throbbed his body with need.
She'd been tiny with dark hair and eyes. He'd called her angel. Daniel could think the thoughts in his mind, but the image of her wouldn't appear. She had a smile just for him that no one else ever saw. She never raised her voice. She made his world complete.
“May,” he whispered, but the water remained dark.
Daniel sat on the edge of the water and lowered his head in his hands. He'd lost her all over again.
Karlee didn't know whether to be happy or sad. She'd been kissed, that was for sure. Only the man who'd done the deed ran.
She looked at herself in the tiny mirror over her chest of drawers. In truth, she could find nothing pretty or particularly ugly about her. Her nose was straight but definitely no button. Her chin was strong but not pointed. Her eyes seemed the right size. And her hair, when she kept it combed down, looked almost brown.
But something must be very, very wrong with her, she thought. Daniel was a strong man, seasoned in war and widowed in love, yet he ran like a rabbit at the first round being fired. He'd done his duty and kissed her. Maybe all her relatives should give him a medal for that. After all, it was the first time she'd gotten a kiss since her parents died. A few times kinfolk had almost kissed her, but the affection had been lost in the air a few inches from her cheek.
But Daniel had really kissed her. Once on the cheek when they'd been in the kitchen and once fully. In her life, these few days in Texas could be classified as a regular epidemic of affection.
Karlee crawled into bed. She couldn't wait for tomorrow to come. Good or bad, it was bound to be interesting.
Her prayers had been answered. Adventure had found her at last.
Deep into the night, Daniel raised his head. Strong winds circled across the creek and harassed branches above him. The far away smell of a campfire danced in the wind, and the creek rustled with tiny ripples as if irritated by a change in nature.
Daniel stood, sensing trouble. He glanced toward the quiet town like a knight of old would have watched a sleeping dragon.
At first, all looked well, the outline of buildings along the water. Jefferson was a small village with wide streets and gas lights on every corner, just like a real city.
Then he saw it. A flame too great to be lamplight. A flame that lit the midnight sky to early dawn.
“Fire!” he yelled as if there were someone to hear.
He broke into a dead run toward the flames that seemed to grow as he identified them. Orange and gold flickers danced along a two-story structure and jumped to other buildings as though escaping the blaze. By the time he reached the outskirts of Dallas Street, the flicker had grown to a monster.
The dragon had awakened.
Several buildings were ablaze. People ran everywhere, some saving their property, some in fear, some looting warehouses in the dawn-like light of chaos. In this town of wealth and trade, no one had thought to organize any kind of fire department. Panic spread faster than flames.
Daniel watched a whirl of ashes climb toward Heaven like a mini-tornado. The twister caught in the wind and funneled high in the sky. Ashes, still red with life, scattered across rooftops like crimson rain. The fire was spreading. In a few blocks it would reach his church. Another block his house. Daniel turned and ran.
He plowed through his kitchen door without slowing down. “Karlee! Get the twins. You've got to get out of here.”
He was halfway up the stairs before she opened her door. “Will it spread?” She was buttoning her blouse, telling Daniel the fire had already awakened her. “How long do we have?”
“I'm not sure. It looks like at least a block of downtown is already burning. I'll hitch the wagon. Can you drive to the Buchanans' place? Most of the men are gone, but Deut and his younger sons are still home. You'll be safe there.”
“I can,” Karlee answered as she ran for the twins' room.
He hoped she wasn't lying. There was no time for discussion. He hitched the team and pulled it to the back of the house. She hurried out with a twin in each arm. A large bundle hung over one shoulder like a cotton picking sack.
“I threw what I could of clothes in a sheet.” She surprised him with her calm. “We're ready.”
Daniel helped them into the wagon. The fires pushed midnight away. The air was summer hot even though it was only early March. As he kissed each child, he thanked Heaven for the cradle he'd attached to the back of the wagon's bench. The twins would be safe as Karlee gave her full attention to driving.
“Aren't you coming?” She lifted the reins with skill.
“I have to do what I can here,” he answered. “I'll be all right.” He closed his hand around hers in reassurance. “Take care of the girls, Karlee. Don't worry about me.”
Before she could answer, a rider pounded into the small yard on a horse that looked half-mad from the flames. The horseman reined with expert skill, fighting the animal's desire to remain at full gallop.
Wolf yelled for Karlee to wait as he climbed off his mount and slung a body he carried over his shoulder.