Distant Mountains, page 24
Thumping the arm holding the weapon he ran toward the hut, calling, “Sara!” Rem reached the porch as Ravenbrook yelled something. Rem wasn’t sure if it was a blasphemy or order. He knew Ravenbrook wouldn’t risk killing him and losing everything. He was mad but not that stupid.
“Sara, it’s Remy.” He pounded on the door, scrabbling at the board held fast across it. “Damn.” Frantically he looked about and then jumped off the porch. He needed a tool of some sort. When he found a sizeable rock, he began to knock the board out of the way. It didn’t take long to shift it. Then he thumped the door back on its hinges, ignoring Ravenbrook, now close behind him.
Sara was slumped in the middle of the dwelling, her arms secure about the upright post. “Sara!” His throat constricted as he went to her side, touching her face. Her skin was as hot as a stovetop. “Can you hear me?” Fear and the heat lodged the spittle in his throat. Her eyelids flickered, a mere wisp of movement, but it was enough to make him say a heartfelt prayer. “Sweet Jesus, speak to me,” he pleaded, working to untie her bonds.
“Remy?” His name came from her sweet lips on a breath of sound.
Rem tossed the rope aside and dragged her limp body into his arms before she could topple sideways. “Yes, my love, it’s me.” He sat on the floor, cradling her in his arms, rocking backward and forward, his hands going up and down her arms and upper body.
“I thought you’d never come,” she whispered hoarsely, burying her face against his shirt.
“How could you think such a thing?” Rem drew back so he could look into her eyes. Pushing her hair back tenderly he said, “I would follow you to the ends of the earth, don’t you know that.” It was getting as dark as a cellar in the hut, and if possible, hotter. A loud crackling and then a crash like thunder rent the air. “We have to get out of here,” he said against her ear. “The fire is closing in on us.”
Ravenbrook stood by the door, the pistol still aimed at Rem. “You bastard,” Rem roared, pushing himself up. Without thought, he rushed at the man who had done this to his love. “You would have left her here to perish. You’ll die for this.”
Ravenbrook fired the weapon as Rem threw himself at his legs. The bullet whizzed by his ear, going upwards into the roof as he grabbed Ravenbrook about the ankles. They rolled over in the debris littering the porch and then fell onto the dusty ground. For a moment, Rem was winded. He looked up and realized the pistol had flown out of Ravenbrook’s hand. He had to get it. On hands and knees, he reached for it, landing a punch on Ravenbrook’s head when he tried to pull him back. They were both breathing heavily. As Rem reached for the pistol a cloud of dirt hit him squarely in the eyes, momentarily blinding him.
Rubbing at his eyes, he went onto his knees. Ravenbrook kicked him in the chest, sending him reeling backward. With a roar, Rem reared up, throwing himself at Ravenbrook. They grappled, rolling over and over. Rem felt as if he was in a dream, surrounded by heat, noise and dust. Then suddenly Ravenbrook was gone. Rem shook his head and rubbed his eyes again. Through slitted lids, he saw that Ravenbrook had mounted Rem’s horse. The animal reared and spun, baulking at the rough treatment of Ravenbrook’s hands on the reins.
The animal refused to move forward, and Ravenbrook slapped it across the neck, yelling, calling the horse vile names as it backed and sidestepped, eyes rolling, head tossing.
“You’ll not get out of this,” Rem shouted, but it was possible Ravenbrook didn’t hear him over the howling through the trees and the roar of what Rem guessed was the encroaching flames. The din was horrendous as trees died and crashed about them.
He could barely discern the horse now, and heard Ravenbrook’s cursing before the horse let out a loud scream and then danced in a circle, fighting the man forcing it to move into the darkness.
Shreds of what looked like black leaves blew into his face, and Rem realized it was particles of ash. Good God, the wind was blowing the fire their way. The horse finally got its way, unseating his rider, and careening toward Rem. Fearful the horse would bolt, leaving them stranded in the midst of the fire, Rem whistled shrilly. It skidded to a stop, and although still jumpy and glancing nervously about, stood his ground, one front hoof pounding in the dust. Rem said a silent prayer and staggered to the gelding’s side.
Ravenbrook struggled to his feet, one hand raised as if to curse them. The heat suddenly intensified; then with a roar a tree to Ravenbrook’s back went up in a ball of fire. Ravenbrook looked behind him, and began to run forward. He stumbled and fell. The tree plummeted down, and Rem winced as flames engulfed his enemy.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rem secured the reins to a post then hurried back to Sara. He picked up his precious load and staggered to the door. The air was thick and stung his lungs. Putting her down he bent to tear a strip off her petticoat. Securing it over her mouth and nose, he then pulled his kerchief over his lower face. With difficulty he hoisted her into the saddle, where she slumped forward, mumbling incoherently. Vaulting up, he pulled her against his chest. Suddenly about ten kangaroos stampeded out of the blackness and bounded past, running blind in their terror. Rem managed to grab the reins before his horse took off after the creatures. It pranced about, squealing in terror.
“Right boy, take us to the river,” Rem shouted and gave the gelding his head.
How they lived through that ride Rem would never know. The horse careened through the blackness, while Rem held onto his mane, clutching his precious woman as clouds of ash, leaves and dust bombarded them.
Rem didn’t see the river until suddenly they splashed through the shallows, and the horse was up to his withers in water. Rem slithered down its side as they came to an abrupt halt, catching at Sara before she could sink beneath the surface. She spluttered and coughed and it was the best sound he’d ever heard.
“Sara.” He moved nearer the bank until the water reached their chests. “We’re safe now.” He pulled her close and dragged their masks down so he could place kisses over her soot-blackened face. His laugh echoed across the water as she opened her eyes, smiling weakly.
“Rem? Why am I all wet?” she mumbled before slumping against him.
Rem pushed her hair back with a shaking hand. The trees on the far bank began to crackle then burn, some falling with a crash into the water. The horse stood a few feet away warily eying the fire on the far bank. Rem whistled, and when it came, Rem caught the reins. They would need a mount when this holocaust had passed, and he didn’t want to risk losing his horse now.
“Good boy.” He patted the sweating neck.
The fire roared on over on the far bank. He couldn’t tell how near it came to their side of the river—it was too dark for him to see more than a few feet in front of him. It was like being inside a huge, filthy, billowing black cloud. It was a blessing the river was flowing well and hadn’t dried up during the past hot spell of weather.
Now and then animals blundered wild-eyed from the inferno, swimming down-river when they found humans had invaded their retreat. A snake swam perilously close, and Rem held his breath as it drifted by, more intent on saving itself than attacking them.
“Remy?”
He blinked. He hadn’t realized his eyes had drifted shut. Sara was looking at him.
“You’re awake.” He brushed wet tendrils of hair off her dirty face, grinning as she wrinkled her nose. “Do I look as big a mess as you?” he asked, tenderly cupping her face. She now stood on her own without his aid. Rem wriggled aching shoulders and stretched his arms wide.
“Have I been asleep?” she asked. He nodded, kissing her lightly on the lips. “You do look rather awful, and I guess I look just as bad.” She reached to touch a strand of her bedraggled hair, grimacing when her hand came away covered in ash. “How long have we been in the water?”
“A while. I’ve lost track of time.”
She glanced about. “Where’s Clive? Did he leave us to perish?”
“He’s dead.” Rem glanced to the bank, where to his relief the sounds of the fire seemed to have lessened. Not so much of the deadly ash billowed their way and the trees lining the far bank were just smoldering now. The worst seemed to have passed on this side of the river.
“What happened?” She put a hand on the horse’s wither to steady herself. “I vaguely remember you carrying me from that smelly hut, but the rest is a blur.”
“This old fellow bucked Ravenbrook off.” Rem rubbed the horse’s blackened face. “A falling tree landed on him.”
She shuddered. “Oh Remy! I know he was hateful, and I wished him dead many times; but that was an awful way to die.”
“It surely was. But the man was a monster. I doubt he had time to suffer; it happened so quickly, which is a more merciful end than the one you would have endured if I hadn’t found you when I did. And he took a shot at me. If I’d died then so would you have, with no one to help you.”
Another shudder rippled through her, and Rem wrapped her in his arms. “Are you cold?” he asked when she began to shiver wildly. Despite the heat from the fire, the water was cold. Rem glanced about as her teeth chattered.
“No,” she said, but he knew she lied. She was suffering from shock. Lord, if they didn’t get out of this water soon she would catch a fever for sure. “What time do you think it is, Remy?”
“I’m not sure. It’s hard to tell. If we could see the sun, I’d have more idea. It’ll probably be getting near twilight soon.” He had to get her out of this water and head back to town before night came down, and the temperature dropped.
“I think we’ll chance heading out now,” he decided. “If the worst comes to the worst we can always head back to the river if we meet up with the fire again.” He took a deep breath, looking about.
Fewer animals had passed by since she’d revived, and the wind had dropped to a dull bluster. “Come on, we’ll give it a try.” Holding her hand Rem tugged on the reins with the other. Their feet had sunk in the mud, and Sara’s skirts weighed her down. This combined to make their progress to the bank slow and unwieldy.
“I think this old fellow wouldn’t be so eager to get out of the river if the fire was still about,” he said as they dragged themselves up the bank and sat down side by side on the charred ground to empty the water from their boots.
“I must look a mess,” she grumbled as he took clumps of her skirts and twisted the worst of the water out.
He took off his shirt to wring that out. “My darling, you’ve never looked more beautiful.”
She laughed, and Rem laughed too—joyously. They were alive!
“The smoke must have made you temporarily short-sighted,” she said.
“Not me, love.” Rem pulled her into his arms and murmured against her tangled hair, “I thought I’d lost you.”
“Oh Rem, and I thought I would never see you or my children again. Ravenbrook must have been insane.” She choked back a sob.
“He surely was. If he’d only come and asked for all my gold at any time, it would have been his. I’d give anything to keep you safe.”
Their lips met for long moments in a celebration of everlasting love.
“We’d better get going,” Rem said when they drew apart to look into each other’s eyes. It was still intensely hot, each breath burning the lungs. “Here, let me pull this up.” Rem gently eased the cloth about her mouth and nose. He had no idea how long it would take to reach town—or even if they would get there before nightfall. “I wish we had a container to fill with water.”
One thing was certain; they couldn’t spend the night here. Sara had to get out of her wet clothes. He cupped his hands, assisting her into the saddle; then hoisted himself up behind her, taking her precious weight in his arms.
For the first mile or so Rem began to wonder if they should have stayed where it was comparatively safe. There wasn’t as much smoke now, although small patches of undergrowth still burned. He was careful to guide his horse around the worst places.
After a while, it started to clear so they could see more than a few feet in front of them. Dead birds littered the ground where they had fallen out of the skies. Many creatures lay burned before they could escape the path of the fire. Now and then Rem dismounted to put a badly burned survivor out of its misery—a sickening task.
His idea to keep the river on his left proved difficult. It twisted and turned, and they had to cross small inlets and creeks. Without the sun to guide them, he had no way of knowing if he was heading in the right direction. Once he could see further ahead, he put the river behind them, heading south, praying his instincts were right and they would hit the Parramatta Road eventually. The air was pungent with the stench of dead animals, smoke, and smoldering undergrowth and trees.
When it grew darker, Rem feared they might be going around in circles. He gave his horse his head, trusting in the animal’s instincts rather than his own. Sara fell asleep, and although he relished holding her in his arms, they ached fit to drop off with the effort of keeping her from falling out of the saddle. Every part of him throbbed with fatigue and soreness; every muscle cried out with pain. His head ached and his eyes were so bleary he had trouble keeping them open.
Suddenly the gelding’s ears pricked and Rem peered into the dimness. A shout came from ahead and then a horse whinnied loudly. His mount answered the call and picked up his pace. Shapes loomed ahead, and then took on the forms of men, women, children and horses. The people waved, and Rem waved back, saying a silent prayer.
“You made the river?” one of the men called as he neared. “Praise be to God, so did we.”
Rem slid from the saddle, easing Sara down, and gently settling her on the ground.
“Remy?” She opened her eyes, clinging to him.
“Yes, love, I’m here.”
“Are we home?” she looked about.
“Not quite. But we’re on the road; we’ll be home in no time at all. I just have to go and meet these people.”
Hand outstretched, Rem approached the man who had spoken to him.
“Have you any idea how far from town we are?” Rem asked.
“I’d say a few miles. This is my wife, and these are my children.” He gestured to three boys and two girls, all grime streaked, their clothes filthy and torn. “We lost our house, barn, and most of our stock.”
“I’m so sorry.” What more could he say.
Rem went back to help Sara onto the horse, mounted, and then lifted one of the smaller boys up behind him.
The slow, weary procession headed past the Turnpike Gate late into the night.
* * *
The clock in the hallway chimed three when Rem carried Sara into their home. Hilda and Maisie came running from the kitchen, Tim behind them.
“Oh Ma’am, thank the Lord! Are you all right?” Maisie cried, anxiously following Rem as he carried Sara up the stairs.
“Yes, Maisie, I’m fine now. But I had a few desperate hours. What are you doing out of bed, Tim?” Sara asked as Tim trailed them into the bedroom.
“I couldn’t sleep, Aunt Sara, until I knew you were safe. We’ve been so worried.” The scamp looked as if he’d been through the mill, his blond mane tousled and his eyes red.
“I’m safe now, thanks to your uncle here.” She smiled up at Rem and then frowned as he made to lay her on the bed. “No, I must get out of these filthy garments first, Remy,” she scolded. “I need a bath.”
“I’ll fix it, Ma’am.” Maisie bustled out.
“I’ll help with the water.” Tim came and put his arms about Sara, saying, “Thank goodness you’re safe. We were really frightened, you know.”
Sara put a grimy hand on his cheek. “I have to say we had a few frightening moments too, Tim. But everything’s all right now. Everything will be perfect from now on, just you wait and see.”
Tim grinned; then hurried out.
“Let me help you out of those clothes,” Rem said huskily once the door closed. He fetched her robe and tenderly undressed her, wrapping her in the robe. By the time he’d discarded his own filthy coverings the tub filled with hot water sat in their bedroom.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t send for the doctor.” Maisie fussed about and tested the scented water’s temperature with a finger.
“I’m perfectly all right now, Maisie. There’s nothing wrong with me that a nice long soak in the tub won’t cure, believe me.”
Rem gently ushered a doubtful Maisie from the room, saying, “Now off you go to bed, Maisie. I’ll look after your mistress, don’t fear. If I think she needs doctoring then we’ll send for the doctor immediately. For now all she needs is some tender loving care.” He closed the door after the maid and the housekeeper and turned to Sara. “And I intend to give her plenty of that,” he vowed, helping Sara out of her robe and into the bath.
Rem washed Sara’s hair; then with some of the promised tender care, he soaped every inch of her.
He joined her in the tub and scrubbed at his own skin. By the time he toweled her dry and slipped her nightgown over her head she was asleep.
Despite his fatigue, it was hours before Rem slept. All he could see in his mind’s eye was Sara tied to that post in the hut. Rem knew he would have nightmares all his days thinking what would have happened if he hadn’t found the hut where Ravenbrook took her; if he hadn’t arrived before Ravenbrook left. Knowing the man’s evil streak it was odds on he would willingly have left her there to perish once he got his hands on the gold. It was probable he would have killed Rem too once he was of no use to him.
Wicked such thoughts might be, but he couldn’t harbor a shred of remorse at the bastard’s horrendous end.
“Remy.”
He blinked his eyes open. His love was watching him, her eyes dreamy and her cheeks flushed.
“My darling. How are you feeling?” He pulled her close and kissed her gently.
“I’m fine now.” She caressed the scars on his back. “I was thinking. We will be able to get my baby back, won’t we?”
Rem hated the tremor of fear in her voice. “Of course. The child is yours. There can be no magistrate in the land who will deny you the right to your son, love.”
“Sara, it’s Remy.” He pounded on the door, scrabbling at the board held fast across it. “Damn.” Frantically he looked about and then jumped off the porch. He needed a tool of some sort. When he found a sizeable rock, he began to knock the board out of the way. It didn’t take long to shift it. Then he thumped the door back on its hinges, ignoring Ravenbrook, now close behind him.
Sara was slumped in the middle of the dwelling, her arms secure about the upright post. “Sara!” His throat constricted as he went to her side, touching her face. Her skin was as hot as a stovetop. “Can you hear me?” Fear and the heat lodged the spittle in his throat. Her eyelids flickered, a mere wisp of movement, but it was enough to make him say a heartfelt prayer. “Sweet Jesus, speak to me,” he pleaded, working to untie her bonds.
“Remy?” His name came from her sweet lips on a breath of sound.
Rem tossed the rope aside and dragged her limp body into his arms before she could topple sideways. “Yes, my love, it’s me.” He sat on the floor, cradling her in his arms, rocking backward and forward, his hands going up and down her arms and upper body.
“I thought you’d never come,” she whispered hoarsely, burying her face against his shirt.
“How could you think such a thing?” Rem drew back so he could look into her eyes. Pushing her hair back tenderly he said, “I would follow you to the ends of the earth, don’t you know that.” It was getting as dark as a cellar in the hut, and if possible, hotter. A loud crackling and then a crash like thunder rent the air. “We have to get out of here,” he said against her ear. “The fire is closing in on us.”
Ravenbrook stood by the door, the pistol still aimed at Rem. “You bastard,” Rem roared, pushing himself up. Without thought, he rushed at the man who had done this to his love. “You would have left her here to perish. You’ll die for this.”
Ravenbrook fired the weapon as Rem threw himself at his legs. The bullet whizzed by his ear, going upwards into the roof as he grabbed Ravenbrook about the ankles. They rolled over in the debris littering the porch and then fell onto the dusty ground. For a moment, Rem was winded. He looked up and realized the pistol had flown out of Ravenbrook’s hand. He had to get it. On hands and knees, he reached for it, landing a punch on Ravenbrook’s head when he tried to pull him back. They were both breathing heavily. As Rem reached for the pistol a cloud of dirt hit him squarely in the eyes, momentarily blinding him.
Rubbing at his eyes, he went onto his knees. Ravenbrook kicked him in the chest, sending him reeling backward. With a roar, Rem reared up, throwing himself at Ravenbrook. They grappled, rolling over and over. Rem felt as if he was in a dream, surrounded by heat, noise and dust. Then suddenly Ravenbrook was gone. Rem shook his head and rubbed his eyes again. Through slitted lids, he saw that Ravenbrook had mounted Rem’s horse. The animal reared and spun, baulking at the rough treatment of Ravenbrook’s hands on the reins.
The animal refused to move forward, and Ravenbrook slapped it across the neck, yelling, calling the horse vile names as it backed and sidestepped, eyes rolling, head tossing.
“You’ll not get out of this,” Rem shouted, but it was possible Ravenbrook didn’t hear him over the howling through the trees and the roar of what Rem guessed was the encroaching flames. The din was horrendous as trees died and crashed about them.
He could barely discern the horse now, and heard Ravenbrook’s cursing before the horse let out a loud scream and then danced in a circle, fighting the man forcing it to move into the darkness.
Shreds of what looked like black leaves blew into his face, and Rem realized it was particles of ash. Good God, the wind was blowing the fire their way. The horse finally got its way, unseating his rider, and careening toward Rem. Fearful the horse would bolt, leaving them stranded in the midst of the fire, Rem whistled shrilly. It skidded to a stop, and although still jumpy and glancing nervously about, stood his ground, one front hoof pounding in the dust. Rem said a silent prayer and staggered to the gelding’s side.
Ravenbrook struggled to his feet, one hand raised as if to curse them. The heat suddenly intensified; then with a roar a tree to Ravenbrook’s back went up in a ball of fire. Ravenbrook looked behind him, and began to run forward. He stumbled and fell. The tree plummeted down, and Rem winced as flames engulfed his enemy.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rem secured the reins to a post then hurried back to Sara. He picked up his precious load and staggered to the door. The air was thick and stung his lungs. Putting her down he bent to tear a strip off her petticoat. Securing it over her mouth and nose, he then pulled his kerchief over his lower face. With difficulty he hoisted her into the saddle, where she slumped forward, mumbling incoherently. Vaulting up, he pulled her against his chest. Suddenly about ten kangaroos stampeded out of the blackness and bounded past, running blind in their terror. Rem managed to grab the reins before his horse took off after the creatures. It pranced about, squealing in terror.
“Right boy, take us to the river,” Rem shouted and gave the gelding his head.
How they lived through that ride Rem would never know. The horse careened through the blackness, while Rem held onto his mane, clutching his precious woman as clouds of ash, leaves and dust bombarded them.
Rem didn’t see the river until suddenly they splashed through the shallows, and the horse was up to his withers in water. Rem slithered down its side as they came to an abrupt halt, catching at Sara before she could sink beneath the surface. She spluttered and coughed and it was the best sound he’d ever heard.
“Sara.” He moved nearer the bank until the water reached their chests. “We’re safe now.” He pulled her close and dragged their masks down so he could place kisses over her soot-blackened face. His laugh echoed across the water as she opened her eyes, smiling weakly.
“Rem? Why am I all wet?” she mumbled before slumping against him.
Rem pushed her hair back with a shaking hand. The trees on the far bank began to crackle then burn, some falling with a crash into the water. The horse stood a few feet away warily eying the fire on the far bank. Rem whistled, and when it came, Rem caught the reins. They would need a mount when this holocaust had passed, and he didn’t want to risk losing his horse now.
“Good boy.” He patted the sweating neck.
The fire roared on over on the far bank. He couldn’t tell how near it came to their side of the river—it was too dark for him to see more than a few feet in front of him. It was like being inside a huge, filthy, billowing black cloud. It was a blessing the river was flowing well and hadn’t dried up during the past hot spell of weather.
Now and then animals blundered wild-eyed from the inferno, swimming down-river when they found humans had invaded their retreat. A snake swam perilously close, and Rem held his breath as it drifted by, more intent on saving itself than attacking them.
“Remy?”
He blinked. He hadn’t realized his eyes had drifted shut. Sara was looking at him.
“You’re awake.” He brushed wet tendrils of hair off her dirty face, grinning as she wrinkled her nose. “Do I look as big a mess as you?” he asked, tenderly cupping her face. She now stood on her own without his aid. Rem wriggled aching shoulders and stretched his arms wide.
“Have I been asleep?” she asked. He nodded, kissing her lightly on the lips. “You do look rather awful, and I guess I look just as bad.” She reached to touch a strand of her bedraggled hair, grimacing when her hand came away covered in ash. “How long have we been in the water?”
“A while. I’ve lost track of time.”
She glanced about. “Where’s Clive? Did he leave us to perish?”
“He’s dead.” Rem glanced to the bank, where to his relief the sounds of the fire seemed to have lessened. Not so much of the deadly ash billowed their way and the trees lining the far bank were just smoldering now. The worst seemed to have passed on this side of the river.
“What happened?” She put a hand on the horse’s wither to steady herself. “I vaguely remember you carrying me from that smelly hut, but the rest is a blur.”
“This old fellow bucked Ravenbrook off.” Rem rubbed the horse’s blackened face. “A falling tree landed on him.”
She shuddered. “Oh Remy! I know he was hateful, and I wished him dead many times; but that was an awful way to die.”
“It surely was. But the man was a monster. I doubt he had time to suffer; it happened so quickly, which is a more merciful end than the one you would have endured if I hadn’t found you when I did. And he took a shot at me. If I’d died then so would you have, with no one to help you.”
Another shudder rippled through her, and Rem wrapped her in his arms. “Are you cold?” he asked when she began to shiver wildly. Despite the heat from the fire, the water was cold. Rem glanced about as her teeth chattered.
“No,” she said, but he knew she lied. She was suffering from shock. Lord, if they didn’t get out of this water soon she would catch a fever for sure. “What time do you think it is, Remy?”
“I’m not sure. It’s hard to tell. If we could see the sun, I’d have more idea. It’ll probably be getting near twilight soon.” He had to get her out of this water and head back to town before night came down, and the temperature dropped.
“I think we’ll chance heading out now,” he decided. “If the worst comes to the worst we can always head back to the river if we meet up with the fire again.” He took a deep breath, looking about.
Fewer animals had passed by since she’d revived, and the wind had dropped to a dull bluster. “Come on, we’ll give it a try.” Holding her hand Rem tugged on the reins with the other. Their feet had sunk in the mud, and Sara’s skirts weighed her down. This combined to make their progress to the bank slow and unwieldy.
“I think this old fellow wouldn’t be so eager to get out of the river if the fire was still about,” he said as they dragged themselves up the bank and sat down side by side on the charred ground to empty the water from their boots.
“I must look a mess,” she grumbled as he took clumps of her skirts and twisted the worst of the water out.
He took off his shirt to wring that out. “My darling, you’ve never looked more beautiful.”
She laughed, and Rem laughed too—joyously. They were alive!
“The smoke must have made you temporarily short-sighted,” she said.
“Not me, love.” Rem pulled her into his arms and murmured against her tangled hair, “I thought I’d lost you.”
“Oh Rem, and I thought I would never see you or my children again. Ravenbrook must have been insane.” She choked back a sob.
“He surely was. If he’d only come and asked for all my gold at any time, it would have been his. I’d give anything to keep you safe.”
Their lips met for long moments in a celebration of everlasting love.
“We’d better get going,” Rem said when they drew apart to look into each other’s eyes. It was still intensely hot, each breath burning the lungs. “Here, let me pull this up.” Rem gently eased the cloth about her mouth and nose. He had no idea how long it would take to reach town—or even if they would get there before nightfall. “I wish we had a container to fill with water.”
One thing was certain; they couldn’t spend the night here. Sara had to get out of her wet clothes. He cupped his hands, assisting her into the saddle; then hoisted himself up behind her, taking her precious weight in his arms.
For the first mile or so Rem began to wonder if they should have stayed where it was comparatively safe. There wasn’t as much smoke now, although small patches of undergrowth still burned. He was careful to guide his horse around the worst places.
After a while, it started to clear so they could see more than a few feet in front of them. Dead birds littered the ground where they had fallen out of the skies. Many creatures lay burned before they could escape the path of the fire. Now and then Rem dismounted to put a badly burned survivor out of its misery—a sickening task.
His idea to keep the river on his left proved difficult. It twisted and turned, and they had to cross small inlets and creeks. Without the sun to guide them, he had no way of knowing if he was heading in the right direction. Once he could see further ahead, he put the river behind them, heading south, praying his instincts were right and they would hit the Parramatta Road eventually. The air was pungent with the stench of dead animals, smoke, and smoldering undergrowth and trees.
When it grew darker, Rem feared they might be going around in circles. He gave his horse his head, trusting in the animal’s instincts rather than his own. Sara fell asleep, and although he relished holding her in his arms, they ached fit to drop off with the effort of keeping her from falling out of the saddle. Every part of him throbbed with fatigue and soreness; every muscle cried out with pain. His head ached and his eyes were so bleary he had trouble keeping them open.
Suddenly the gelding’s ears pricked and Rem peered into the dimness. A shout came from ahead and then a horse whinnied loudly. His mount answered the call and picked up his pace. Shapes loomed ahead, and then took on the forms of men, women, children and horses. The people waved, and Rem waved back, saying a silent prayer.
“You made the river?” one of the men called as he neared. “Praise be to God, so did we.”
Rem slid from the saddle, easing Sara down, and gently settling her on the ground.
“Remy?” She opened her eyes, clinging to him.
“Yes, love, I’m here.”
“Are we home?” she looked about.
“Not quite. But we’re on the road; we’ll be home in no time at all. I just have to go and meet these people.”
Hand outstretched, Rem approached the man who had spoken to him.
“Have you any idea how far from town we are?” Rem asked.
“I’d say a few miles. This is my wife, and these are my children.” He gestured to three boys and two girls, all grime streaked, their clothes filthy and torn. “We lost our house, barn, and most of our stock.”
“I’m so sorry.” What more could he say.
Rem went back to help Sara onto the horse, mounted, and then lifted one of the smaller boys up behind him.
The slow, weary procession headed past the Turnpike Gate late into the night.
* * *
The clock in the hallway chimed three when Rem carried Sara into their home. Hilda and Maisie came running from the kitchen, Tim behind them.
“Oh Ma’am, thank the Lord! Are you all right?” Maisie cried, anxiously following Rem as he carried Sara up the stairs.
“Yes, Maisie, I’m fine now. But I had a few desperate hours. What are you doing out of bed, Tim?” Sara asked as Tim trailed them into the bedroom.
“I couldn’t sleep, Aunt Sara, until I knew you were safe. We’ve been so worried.” The scamp looked as if he’d been through the mill, his blond mane tousled and his eyes red.
“I’m safe now, thanks to your uncle here.” She smiled up at Rem and then frowned as he made to lay her on the bed. “No, I must get out of these filthy garments first, Remy,” she scolded. “I need a bath.”
“I’ll fix it, Ma’am.” Maisie bustled out.
“I’ll help with the water.” Tim came and put his arms about Sara, saying, “Thank goodness you’re safe. We were really frightened, you know.”
Sara put a grimy hand on his cheek. “I have to say we had a few frightening moments too, Tim. But everything’s all right now. Everything will be perfect from now on, just you wait and see.”
Tim grinned; then hurried out.
“Let me help you out of those clothes,” Rem said huskily once the door closed. He fetched her robe and tenderly undressed her, wrapping her in the robe. By the time he’d discarded his own filthy coverings the tub filled with hot water sat in their bedroom.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t send for the doctor.” Maisie fussed about and tested the scented water’s temperature with a finger.
“I’m perfectly all right now, Maisie. There’s nothing wrong with me that a nice long soak in the tub won’t cure, believe me.”
Rem gently ushered a doubtful Maisie from the room, saying, “Now off you go to bed, Maisie. I’ll look after your mistress, don’t fear. If I think she needs doctoring then we’ll send for the doctor immediately. For now all she needs is some tender loving care.” He closed the door after the maid and the housekeeper and turned to Sara. “And I intend to give her plenty of that,” he vowed, helping Sara out of her robe and into the bath.
Rem washed Sara’s hair; then with some of the promised tender care, he soaped every inch of her.
He joined her in the tub and scrubbed at his own skin. By the time he toweled her dry and slipped her nightgown over her head she was asleep.
Despite his fatigue, it was hours before Rem slept. All he could see in his mind’s eye was Sara tied to that post in the hut. Rem knew he would have nightmares all his days thinking what would have happened if he hadn’t found the hut where Ravenbrook took her; if he hadn’t arrived before Ravenbrook left. Knowing the man’s evil streak it was odds on he would willingly have left her there to perish once he got his hands on the gold. It was probable he would have killed Rem too once he was of no use to him.
Wicked such thoughts might be, but he couldn’t harbor a shred of remorse at the bastard’s horrendous end.
“Remy.”
He blinked his eyes open. His love was watching him, her eyes dreamy and her cheeks flushed.
“My darling. How are you feeling?” He pulled her close and kissed her gently.
“I’m fine now.” She caressed the scars on his back. “I was thinking. We will be able to get my baby back, won’t we?”
Rem hated the tremor of fear in her voice. “Of course. The child is yours. There can be no magistrate in the land who will deny you the right to your son, love.”
