Page 167 of Down Knot Out
“Stay here.” Dominic’s grip remains unyielding. “You can’t help him with Quinn.”
Quinn sobs into my neck, her tears leaving cool tracks on my smoke-stained skin. I stumble backward as Dominic guides us away from the house, my bare feet crunching over gravel.
“Sprinkles,” Quinn cries, her voice muffled by my shoulder. “He’s scared of fire.”
The heat surges even from here, waves of it pulsing off the siding, the air shimmering. Quinn sobs in my arms.
“He’ll find Sprinkles.” I stroke her hair, trying to convince myself as much as her. “He will.”
The house groans. A section of the roof over the north wing slumps inward with a crash, sending sparks into the air. The sprinklers continue spraying, keeping the central and southern parts of the Homestead damp. Water hisses where it hits glowing embers.
Blake and Nathaniel sprint across the lawn toward the maintenance shed, calling back about getting hoses and extinguishers as they disappear into the shadows.
“We need to move farther back.” Dominic’s hand at the small of my back guides me toward the tree line. “The propane tank could blow.”
The reality of those words slices through me. Holden is still inside. My legs falter, but Dominic steadies me with a firm grip.
“He’ll find a way out,” he says, reading the terror on my face. “Holden knows what he’s doing.”
Grady shuffles after us, his cane nowhere in sight as he clutches a first aid kit in his arms. Hisblond hair sticks up in all directions, face pale in the firelight.
He shakes out a blanket and wraps it around my shoulders, careful not to disturb Quinn’s grip on me, and offers a water bottle. “Here. Small sips.”
I take it with trembling fingers and help Quinn drink first. She coughs after each swallow, her small body still shaking.
“The fire department?” I scan the dark road that leads to the dock.
“Called them.” Dominic clutches a phone in his hand. “ETA fifteen minutes. Nathaniel called Sheriff Miller, too. Someone shut off our water supply before setting this fire.”
“Quinn needs air,” Grady murmurs. “You all do.”
I sink onto the damp grass, clutching her to me. Her breaths are uneven, but she’s awake and alert.
Blake and Nathaniel return, dragging lengths of hose from the shed, their faces grim as they take in the deteriorating structure.
“We can’t do much for the fire here.” Blake’s hands clench with anger. “But we can put out any more fires that start.”
Nathaniel drops the hose and moves to my side, his hand finding mine. “Any sign of Holden?”
I shake my head, unable to speak past the knot in my throat.
An anxious whine escapes Quinn. “What if Uncle Holden can’t find Sprinkles? He always hides when there’s thunder.”
“I know, princess.” I hold her close. “Holden knows that, too.”
Seconds stretch, and the fire groans, crackles, shifts. More of the roof gives way, but not all of it. The damage is contained mostly to the north wing. Smoke blackens the beams, and windows burst in showers of glass. But the fire isn’t jumping. The sprinklers and soaked structure are holding the line.
“The propane tank.” Grady pulls me back to my feet and moves us another ten feet back. “We’re too close if it blows.”
I resist, unable to turn away from the door where Holden disappeared. “We can’t leave him.”
“We’re not leaving anyone,” Dominic says, his hand trembling on my back. “But we need to stay safe for him to find us.”
Quinn lifts her head from my shoulder, tear tracks on her cheeks. “Uncle Holden will find Sprinkles, right?” Her lip wobbles. “They’ll come back?”
The question hangs in the air between us. I meetDominic’s gaze over her head, fear thrumming through our bond.
“Your Uncle Holden is very brave.” I stroke her tangled hair. “He’ll do everything he can.”
