Chapter Nine

Rachel

The explosion came from the kitchen below and knocked Rachel off her feet. Smoke filled the air, making it impossible to see much except that she lay amidst shards of broken glass. Pulling herself to a sitting position she coughed and gagged. The acrid smoke stung her throat.

Shouts came from below. Muffled and unclear. Luke yelled her name. She tried to call back but the effort brought on a new wave of coughing. She wore nothing more than a pair of boy shorts, a shirt and a short robe. If she moved, the glass would cut her bare skin or feet. Leaning forward, she managed to reach the blanket from her bed and pulled it around herself.

“Rachel,” Luke shouted again, this time closer.

Squinting through the hazy smoke, she covered her mouth with the edge of the blanket. She needed to stay low to get out of the room, but crawling across the glass would cut her to shreds. Better bleeding than dead, she told herself. Inching across the floor, she gripped the blanket for protection. Halfway across the room, she could make out the doorway enough to see the floor and doorframe were ablaze.

A shadow darkened the doorway and strong arms lifted her off the ground.

“Cover your face,” Luke pulled her tight against his chest. “We’re gonna have to go through the fire.”

She did as she was told, ducking under the cover of the blanket. He carried her along the hallway and down the stairs. Around her, timbers and walls crashed as the fire tore through the home. Luke barreled through the front door and gasped for breath. Outside, he set her down on the ground some distance from the house.

Fire roared through the house. Flames engulfed the entire home from the porch to the roof. The men tried for several minutes to try to put the fire out with hoses and buckets, but all of them stood back now.

“It’s too late,” Rachel murmured. “It’s all gone.”

She had a vague awareness of Luke running his hands over her.

“Are you hurt?”

Was she hurt? Her body felt numb. “I don’t know.”

“Did you pass out?”

“No. My ears are ringing a little.” The world spun and she tightened her hold on Luke, willing it to stop. Her stomach knotted. “You came for me.”

His eyes darkened. “Of course, I came for you.”

She set her hand on his jaw and stared in disbelief. “The house was on fire and you came for me.”

He clasped her hand and kissed the palm. “I did, baby.”

She turned to watch the fire. Flames licked the roof. Heat curled the shingles as the fire intensified. Hissing and popping noises filled the air. Distantly, horses neighed in fright.

Luke got up and strode to the gathered men. “Keep the hoses running. I want the ground as wet as possible. Watch for embers. I’m taking Rachel to my cabin. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Luke carried her to his cabin and set her on the edge of his bed. Sometime later, sirens pierced the evening air. Luke entered the cabin with a paramedic. She wasn’t injured, she assured both of them. Nothing hurt and she had no wounds.

“We really should have a doc check you out,” the paramedic urged.

“I fell to the floor when the blast happened, but I didn’t fall hard.”

It took some convincing, but finally she managed to persuade both men that she was fine. Just shocked by the events of the evening.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” she asked Luke after the paramedic had packed up and left.

Luke crouched down in front of her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. The house is old, was old. The wiring, the plumbing, nothing’s been replaced since it was built years ago. The firemen are out there now, keeping the fire from spreading, but they said it’s going to be a total loss.

“A total loss…” she said softly.

“It doesn’t matter, Rachel.” His gaze was tender yet determined. “The most important thing is that you’re out of there. And safe.”

She was taken aback by the intensity of his words and how much they affected her. Trembling, she bit her lip and tried to think of what to say.

“I don’t want you to come out while the firemen work on keeping the fire under control. You’ve had a big shock and you’re not going to like the way the house looks.”

“It’s gone…”

“Pretty much,” he said softly. “We’ll build another one.”

He helped her get into his bed and drew the covers around her. Before he left, he kissed her on her head. She’d never felt so forlorn or pitiful and the small gesture, the kiss he gave her, made her eyes sting with tears.

In her dreams her mother chided her for her silly ideas of holding on to the farm. How she’d tied herself to a man she didn’t know just so she could own a dusty patch of ground that once belonged to a man who cared nothing for her.

You’re no better than me. Marrying for reasons that have nothing to do with love…

She tossed and turned, slamming into a wall of hard muscle sometime in the night.

“Rach. Rachel, you having a bad dream?” Luke’s whisper against her ear sent shivers of need down her body.

He turned her to face him and scattered kisses down the side of her neck. There was no urgency, just sweet kisses. His hand rested lightly on her hip. The offer wasn’t seduction, only comfort, and she let him hold her and tease her with soft, playful kisses.

“I owned the house for less than a day and I blew it up, Luke.”

He paused and his hand tightened around her hip. “Half of that house was mine. Remember?”

She could hear the smile in his voice and felt the curve of his lips against her neck.

 “Luke…” Her words trailed off because she had no idea what to say. The overwhelming feelings robbed her of a response.

“Listen to me, Rachel.” His playful tone had vanished, replaced with a stern note. “I walked into that room and saw you huddled on the floor, bleeding and terrified. I knew the whole fucking tinderbox was coming down any minute. It was the worst feeling. Like my heart was outside of my chest, only it wasn’t my heart. It was you. Lying right there in the glass and smoke.”

She swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. “Thank you…Luke.”

His response was a deep rumble that came from the depths of his chest. Gathering her close, his hand slipped under the hem of her shirt. She pulled it away.

“Now what?” he muttered.

“I don’t want you to touch my back.”

“Why not?”

“I have scars on my back. They’re ugly, and I don’t want you to see them or touch them.”

“Darling, there’s nothing ugly about you. That I know for sure. How’d you get them?”

“I was in car wreck when I was nine. My mother and her husband were having a fight and he ran a red light. I got cut up pretty badly. The scars are so ugly. I hate them.

 He lay back and gathered her close. For a few moments, he didn’t say anything and when he spoke, his voice was gentle. “I’ve got more scars than you can shake a stick at. You’re fine. You’re perfect. The bad thing is that in the morning, you’re going to feel like you got run over by a herd of mules.”

“I am?”

“You are. Getting tossed around like that isn’t going to feel good. Trust me. I’ve been pitched off a horse dozens of times. So, I’m sorry but we’ll have to hold off on that fine, wedding night sex you’ve been thinking about all day.”

She laughed softly. “I haven’t been thinking about wedding night sex.”

“Oh come on. I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me all day. And I know how women are. Even my own mother… she got pregnant with me on her wedding night.”

“Your mother actually told you that?”

He nuzzled her neck. His erection pressed against her, sending a flash of alarm across her thoughts.

“She didn’t. I figured it out. Not all that hard, ya know.” He tugged her deeper into his embrace and groaned. “We’ll build a house with a nursery. Lots of bedrooms for the kids.”

His deep, gruff voice, and his hard body sent undeniable arousal through her body. Her breasts ached. Desire pooled in her core. She arched in his embrace, a movement she hadn’t intended. Her heart thudded against her sternum as she waited for a response from him. Would he accuse her of toying with him? Being a tease?

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “I want it too.”

Mortification burned her skin. “I’m not on the pill,” she blurted. “I should… probably take care of that.”

Her embarrassment spiked with that simple admission. She’d as much as told him she wanted him.

He growled, a deep rumble in his chest that she both felt and heard.

“Don’t,” he murmured.

Alarm threaded down her spine. “What?”

He sighed. “Good night, Mrs. Hardeman.”