Grace be a Lady (Love & War in Johnson County Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

Raney swooped up a bucket sitting on the ground, and dipped it in
the water at the head of the trough. Deftly, she exchanged her bucket with a
young man, who handed off his empty vessel, and then she dipped again. Another
man, older, graying, his eyes wild and round, grabbed the bucket from the man
in his line. They exchanged containers and he spun on his heels toward the
fire, all in a blur of motion. The frenzied ballet went on and on and on as the
inferno roared and belched hellfire. The two bucket brigades dipped and threw
water with a furious beauty. Grace pumped till her arms burned like the fire
was in her veins, and then she pumped some more. The inferno hissed and
screamed. The heat blazed.
    And
then the roof collapsed in a cacophony of growling flames and snapping timbers.
    Shielding
their faces from the heat, the makeshift firemen backed away, lowered their
buckets, and stared hopelessly at a lost cause. Exhausted, Grace leaned on the
pump for support. Tears threatened but she fought them back. She sensed someone
here had lost more than a house.
    Raney
walked over to the man who had been fighting with real fear in his eyes, a
short, stocky, middle-aged man, now covered in soot and dirt. She placed her
hand on his shoulder. The look that passed between them broke Grace’s heart.
The man shook his head and swallowed. Raney sagged.
    After
a long silence, one of the young men slogged back to the trough and dipped his
bucket. His movements were slow, as though his arms weighed a thousand pounds.
He acknowledged Grace with a somber nod then attacked the fire once more. Raney
and the others joined in as well, but with the same weary speed.
    Grace
pumped the handle twice more and, as water flowed, stepped over and took a
bucket, dipped it, and had it ready for the hand-off. The group worked with no
sense of urgency. Grace knew a funeral procession when she saw one.
     

CHAPTER SIX
     
     

    After
nearly two hours of dousing the doorway and entrance with more water, the young
man at the head of the line dropped his bucket in the trough and left it to
sink. “I think I can get in there.” His solemn tone betrayed his hopelessness.
“I’ll go take a gander.”
    Raney
and the others stopped their brigade and waited.
    He
trudged up the steps and Grace flinched against the thud his boots made on the
three small steps, like the sound of the Grim Reaper entering a bedroom at
midnight. He skirted a flaming beam, turned sideways to navigate some hot
debris, and then paused. The man next to Raney stiffened, clenched and
unclenched his fists. Raney clutched his shoulders, as if she might need to
stop him from collapsing.
    The
man in the house knelt and disappeared behind a glowing section of the roof.
Cords of grief knotted in Grace’s stomach. She kept thinking how horrible it
would be to die that way, with the hellish heat and choking smoke. She heard the
tall, lanky cowboy beside her swallow, as if steeling himself against the
discovery.
    Momentarily,
the man reappeared and worked his way out of the house. He walked down the
steps, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Bill,” his voice broke. “She’s by the
stove.”
    Bill
tried valiantly to hold his composure, but the instant tears plowed through the
soot on his cheeks, he gave in to the grief. The cowboys, all in mournful
unity, removed their hats. Bill put his head in his hands and wailed. Raney
locked him in a hug. For a few seconds he accepted it, then something in him
snapped. He broke away with a heart-crushing sob, and rushed towards the house.
    The
young man blocked his path, latching on to his arm with a vice-like grip.
“Bill, I can’t let you see her this way.” Raney stepped up and tried to put Bill
back in that bear hug as the two men scuffled. The younger man shook him. “No!”
And then he shook him harder. “Bill, get hold of yourself. You don’t want to
see her like that!”
    Bill
stopped. Tears ran down Grace’s cheeks as she watched the man accept