Page 125 of The Highlander's Irish Bride

“What if the fire reaches the casks?” Kathleen asked, seeming to read his thoughts.

“I’ll get them out before it does.”

If even one cask caught fire, the building could go up like a torch. And if fumes were left in the stills . . .

Grant reined in before the gate to the distillery. Kathleen pushed herself off the horse, all but tumbling down into the dirt.

“Dammit, lass,” he barked as he pulled the panicking horse away from her.

Ignoring him, she scrambled up and pelted down the path toward the distillery. Grant swung his leg over the saddle, slid to the ground, and took off after her. Her dark cloak streamed behind her as she raced for the front door, and Grant had to lengthen his stride to catch her.

When he did, he pulled her to a halt just as her hand reached out for the door handle.

Kathleen struggled in his arms. “Let me go!”

He pulled her tight against his body, where he could feel the frantic beat of her heart.

“You can’t touch the handle. You’ll burn your hand.”

She wriggled like a worm on a hook. “I don’t care! I have to get to her.”

Grant put steel into his voice. “Not by running straight into the fire, you won’t. We’ll all end up dead.”

She froze in his arms, her breathing erratic. “We have to do something,” she managed.

“I know. I’m going to—”

“Kath!” cried Jeannie’s voice from above.

Her sister leaned out the window, the cat clutched to her chest.

Kathleen sagged in Grant’s arms. “Are you all right, love?” she called out.

A grizzled head poked out of the window beside Jeannie.

“Aye, we’re fine,” Adams said. “But it’s getting’ smoky up here.”

“And very hot,” Jeannie added in a tearful voice.

“Darling, we’re going to get you down right now,” Kathleen replied. “Just stay calm.”

“Adams, take Jeannie and go to the north end of the building, the part closest to the stream,” Grant ordered.

Every distillery had a source of water close by. At Lochnagar, it was a deep, swift-moving stream that drained into a nearby loch. At the far end of the building, the stream ran right beneath the windows, kept in its course by bulkheads. Jeannie and Adams could always jump for it, if everything else failed, though it was not a good option.

Adams nodded, clearly taking Grant’s meaning. “Come along, lass,” he said to Jeannie.

“I don’t want to leave Kath,” she tearfully replied.

As Kathleen persuaded her sister to go with Adams, Grant took a quick look into the closest window. There was a hell of a lot of smoke, and flames were visible at the back of the building, around the stairs, and close to the still chimneys. Fortunately, Graeme never left the peat fires burning at night unless a full crew was working. And most of the casks were stored by damn good luck against the wall closest to the office, thus away from the fire.

But the stairswerebloody well blocked, as fire licked its way up the staircase and the wall behind.

Kathleen joined him at the window. “What can you see?”

“The stairs are on fire.”

She pressed a hand to her mouth.

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