Pat Tracy - Cade's Justice

The older woman sobbed into her handkerchief, as heartbroken as if listing the names of her own children who had perished in the fire.

Her nephew remained coolly unaffected. “Come now, Loutitia, the insurance will cover our losses. And, as the French haven’t stopped making furniture, I’ll see you get another ostentatious bed to take to when a fit of the vapors strikes.”

Miss Loutitia raised her damp face from the hankie. “And a new armoire, too? Do you promise?”

“Whatever you want,” he said negligently. Emma noticed that his wavy brown hair was neatly combed. The only indication that he’d dressed in haste was his open shirt collar.

Loutitia blew her nose. “Oh, I don’t know how you can be so inhumanly calm.”

“Practice, dear Aunt, practice.”

“That and the fact you didn’t lose anything in the blaze,” she sniffed. “Goodness, you planned on tearing down the building to make room for that new hotel you’ve been talking about ever since you informed me Hempshire Academy could no longer remain in business.” Loutitia took a hiccupy breath as she turned her attention to Emma. “We were afraid you didn’t make it out alive. I guess I shouldn’t chide Lyman for always being so calm. He certainly wasn’t, my dear, when it appeared you’d been trapped inside.”

Emma was aware of Lyman Thornton’s regard. During the few weeks she worked for his aunt, she’d wondered what she’d done to spark his curiosity. Much to her consternation, he’d developed the unsettling habit of standing in the background and observing her. Rarely did he take the opportunity to engage her in conversation. He seemed content just to watch her. She didn’t know what to make of him. Because he was wealthy, smoothly handsome and a pillar of the community, she knew his interest wasn’t of a personal nature.

“As you can see, I’m fine.” Emma looked toward the fire. It amazed her that in a matter of minutes it could recede from an inferno to the smoldering hiss of dying flames. The morning sun came out, banishing the fog. As the smoke settled, a blackened ruin stood in place of the academy. “Did everyone make it out safely?”

It was a question she should have asked sooner. She visualized the faces of her students and co-workers, realizing she’d delayed voicing it because she didn’t know if she could bear the answer.

A look of despair welled up in Loutitia’s puffy eyes. “I’m afraid we lost the Cade girl….”

“Courtney’s all right,” Emma said quickly, wanting to spare Loutitia an extra moment of grief. “She’s at her uncle’s house.”

“Thank God!” More tears streamed from the headmistress. “Of all the students to have lost…I was terrified when Mr. Cade found out, he would…Well, there’s no telling what a man like that might do.”

It was at that juncture that Emma saw Gideon Cade standing behind the older woman. Flames every bit as deadly as those that had lapped at the academy smoldered in his angry gaze.

“It was horrible to be awakened by the shouting and screaming,” Loutitia continued. “Smoke was everywhere. I thought I was going to die. It was…” She dissolved into more sobs.

“Come, it’s time I take you home,” Thornton said.

“My home’s burned to the ground!” she cried pitifully.

“You were planning on living with me after the academy closed,” her nephew reminded her.

She sighed. “I know, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Just a moment, Miss Hempshire.”

Emma watched Jayne Stoneworthy, Loutitia and Lyman Thornton turn in unison toward Gideon Cade. That he towered above the women, and even Loutitia’s nephew, was probably something Cade took for granted.

“Uh, yes, Mr. Cade?” Loutitia inquired timidly.

“Are you certain everyone is accounted for?”

She nodded. “Yes, Miss Stoneworthy and I tallied the number of teachers and students before they left for the various hotels that agreed to take them in for the night. Everyone made it out safely.”

“Do you know how the fire started?”

Her plump hands fluttered uselessly. “I have no idea.”

“We’ll probably never find out,” Lyman Thornton interjected. “A candle could have been set too close to the draperies, a log in one of the fireplaces could have shot a spark that caught, a lamp could have tipped over—any number of things could have happened.”

“I’m just grateful no lives were lost.” Loutitia wiped her eyes with the twisted handkerchief. “It’s bad enough my armoire was destroyed.”

“Yes, Aunt, tonight has been a terrible ordeal for you.”

“I’m really not sure I’m going to be able to recover.” Loutitia looked helplessly at her nephew.

“I’ll take you home now.” He glanced at Emma. “Naturally, you’ll be joining us.”

Until that very moment, Emma had given no thought about where she would sleep. Nevertheless, his assumption startled her. “It’s very kind of you to offer, but I imagine I’ll stay with the other teachers at one of the hotels.”

It was only as she spoke that the dire nature of her plight struck Emma. She had no money, no clothes, and nowhere to go. A trunk being dropped on her head couldn’t have struck with greater impact.

At the age of twenty-four, she was stranded in a strange city where she’d lived a few weeks, out of work and destitute.

Emma Step brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. Throughout their early-morning encounter, Gideon had watched a myriad of emotions cross the schoolmistress’s mobile features. For the first time since he’d met her, fear touched her gaze. Her vulnerability aroused protective instincts he was chagrined to discover he possessed.

“Don’t worry about imposing upon us,” Lyman Thornton persisted. “Having you in our home is the least we can do. Right, Aunt Loutitia?”

“Certainly you’re welcome to stay the night, dear.”

“It’s already morning,” Lyman corrected. “You’ll be more comfortable with us than at one of the hotels. It’s bound to take time to reestablish yourself here, Miss Step. You’re welcome to remain our guest for as long as you wish,” he added persuasively.

Gideon had never cared for Lyman Thornton. Like the majority of Denver residents, he was an eastern transplant. They’d never conducted any business transactions, but their paths had crossed more than once socially. The man projected a snobbish attitude that grated on Gideon’s nerves. The irony didn’t escape him that Emma had charged him with the same fault. Thornton’s suggestion that she stay in his home indefinitely pushed Gideon’s passive dislike to active hostility.

He had no intention of letting Thornton stampede her into moving in with him. Especially when, considering Loutitia Hempshire’s flightiness, the older woman would be a washout as a chaperone. Judging from Miss Step’s pallor, and the way she stood huddled in her shabby cloak, she was in no condition to make decisions for herself.

It shouldn’t have mattered to Gideon what happened to Courtney’s teacher. He frowned. Since the academy no longer existed, the woman was his niece’s former teacher. Not even the flimsiest connection existed between them. No argument could be put forth that she was his responsibility.

And yet, he found himself unable to abandon her to Thornton’s suspect hospitality. Something had passed between the queerly appealing woman and himself. Her earnest, prickly, damnably intriguing manner had nudged him to a peculiar awareness that wouldn’t let him walk away from her.

“Miss Step appreciates your offer, Thornton.” Complications… Knowing he was inviting a swarm of them into his organized household wasn’t enough to nail his lips shut “But she’s decided to stay with my niece and me.” ’Miss Step’s head came up. Some of the dullness faded from her eyes. “I certainly have—”