Page 91 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"Don't...do anything stupid or heroic, you hear me?" he said, looking me over. "If you get killed doing something stupid?—"

"You'll what...go back to your law-breaking days?"

"I'll head east and rob as many banks as I can, pillage a couple of towns, and set myself up as the meanest, cruelest leader of an outlaw gang this country has ever heard of."

Despite the utter disaster going on around us, a laugh burst from my lips, and I reached out to grip his arm. What I wanted to do was to pull him close and give him what I hoped was a comforting kiss. Except I knew it wasn't possible. Even with all the chaos surrounding us, the two of us locking lips wouldn't go unnoticed. Maybe it wouldn't stop everyone dead in their tracks, but there would definitely be questions later.

"If you're saying what I think you're trying to say, then...me too, and you don't have to worry about me doing anything stupid. I'm not the noble one around here," he said, laying his hand over mine to squeeze it briefly before pulling away. There was a flash of something tender and longing on his face before it was replaced by the focus I’d seen moments before. He gave a jerk of his head. “Now get going. We'll meet up once we've got them together. Priority on preventing the fire from spreading and then worry about trying to put it out."

"Ya got it," I said, drawing my arm away.

Even though I managed to turn away from him with the same determination he'd shown, it still took more effort than anything else. Everything in my life was in danger right now, and I realized that Samuel had become one of those things. Now I was sending him off, already injured and not at his best, to go do a job I couldn't manage on my own. It made sense logically, a decision I had to make despite everything in me screaming that I shouldn't because I needed him close, even though utilizing him right now was exactly what I should do.

I suppose such a cold, calculating decision was the sort of thing my father would have approved of if he could ever bring himself to say anything.

It was a bittersweet, heavy on the bitter, thought and I shoved it aside. There were larger concerns than the turmoil in my heart, and if I wanted to save the ranch and its people, then I needed to focus, which meant finding Walter because he was holding things together while I’d been blissfully unaware of the doom approaching.

Considering he had been the one handing out orders to put out the fire, it probably meant he was the one nearest the fire. Only the newest men would look at Walter and think the laidback, jovial man couldn't be taken seriously. Anyone who had been around long enough knew full well that if my father or I weren't around, it was Walter that you turned to when things got messy or you needed someone to lead the charge.

I weaved my way through the buildings, heading toward the wall of flames in the distance. More men were running around, some of them trying to steer the horses away, while others had buckets and even large bowls filled with water. Not that it was going to make much difference considering the strength of the blaze, but I listened closely for the most yelling and shouting.

Then I heard a familiar voice calling out over the din and let out a sigh of relief as I ran toward the source. Walter looked worn down already, his shirt torn and singed in places, and he had apparently lost a boot at some point. Yet even with soot on his face, he was standing tall and giving orders like he was born to do it. There were a few men near him, keeping a respectful distance from the fire, but I would bet Walter was keeping an eye on it.

A crack ripped through the air, and my eyes widened as one of the roofs buckled, giving way with a harsh sound that cut through the air. The men all jerked toward the sound as wood exploded from the building as the structure gave way and sent debris scattering everywhere. Walter dropped to the ground, dragging a man with him as another also had the sense to drop.I had only a moment to see that the third wasn't quite as quick. I tasted gritty dirt as I slammed into the ground, wincing as I heard a scream of unmistakable pain.

I picked myself up, quickly brushing a piece of flaming wood off my shirt as I stood, eyes sweeping to survey the damage. It had made a mess, but most of the men had seen it getting ready to collapse and had taken cover or had gotten out of the path in case there was any debris or flames flung everywhere. I could see one man picking a chunk of wood out of his arm with a wince, but the worst was the man screaming on the ground beside Walter.

Walter clambered over to him, holding him still. “Hey, stick with me now. It's not as bad as it feels."

That might be true, but it was as bad as it looked as wood stuck out from the man's gut, blood leaking around it as the embers flickered and faded at the top of the spike lodged in him. I didn't need one of his screams to be interrupted by a gush of blood from his mouth to tell me it had hit something vital, and I definitely didn't need the gurgle he made when he tried to give another cry.

Walter's face never lost its composure or the assured smile as he bent to say something I couldn't make out among the chaos and the sounds of the flames crackling ferociously. Whatever it was, it stopped the man from trying to cry out, his terrified gaze locked on Walter's face, riveted by him. I was again not surprised when I watched his face tense once more and then relax, his head slumping back, and a trickle of blood left his mouth as his body went still.

"Hey," I said as I approached. Walter reached up and closed his eyes gently, murmuring. "Walter, we?—"

"I know," he said with a sigh, pushing himself up and gesturing to the men nearest to him. "Y'all got empty hands? Gethim out of here, and somewhere there isn't gonna be any more done to him."

I was grateful none of them thought to look at me for confirmation. It was only when they moved him that the flames caught the cleaner side of his face, and I let out a heavy sigh. His name had been Peter, and he'd only joined us at the ranch a few months back. He'd heard that the West was a place for people to make good money through honest work if they knew where to work. He'd told me once he had a wife and a couple of kids back home that he was hoping to bring out west once he'd saved up enough money, probably to Rapture if the ranch turned out to be as great as it seemed.

"Christ above," I muttered, wiping my face and wondering what I was going to put in the letter I was inevitably going to have to send to his widow.

"It's in His arms that he goes now," Walter said quietly. It wasn'tquitean admonishment against my slight blasphemy, but it was as close as it would get when it came to Walter. The man was deeply but quietly religious, and I figured it had been a prayer he had said to the man and whispered over his body after he'd passed.

It was safer and more important that I moved on from the subject. “We need to get the men focused on preventin' the fire. Not trynna put it out. That's a lost cause."

Walter turned to stare at the fire as it spread to another building and grimaced. “S'pose you're right on that one. Kept trynna focus on gettin' everything put out, didn't even think about that."

"What kind of hell are we lookin' at?"

"Whole North side is gone, or will be soon. You're right. If we don't get it under control, we're gonna lose a lot more than that."

"Then let's get on it. I got Samuel spreadin' the word that we need to contain this, not fight it. Let's hope they listen."

"They will," Walter said with complete confidence. "They got no reason to ignore 'em. He's one of us, even if he don't know it."

I let that idea roll through my head before gesturing. “Then let's get movin'. Anything we can soak and spread over the ground and some of the other buildin's in its path is gonna be our goal. Don't care if it's sheets, shirts, or anything. Spread it out. If we need to, we can tear down some things to make it harder for the bastard to catch more."

"You got it," Walter said, immediately turning to relay my words.

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