threats have been going on for some time, but this is the first time they’ve actually done anything. He’s worried.”
“And you have to deal with it.” I really didn’t want to sound bitter, but an edge crept in.
“For now.” He pulled me into a close embrace and rubbed my back. “Want to come along? We could get some dinner in town afterward.”
I gave him a quick kiss and went to look for my shoes.
The trip to the airport, moving both craft into a hangar—supervised by Fergus, who ‘yes mum’d’ me a lot—and dinner at a decent seafood place took hours, and it was nearly ten o’clock as we approached Dunworthy. Rounding a bend in the road I caught sight of flames leaping high into the air. My heart sped into high gear.
“The castle! Drake, turn in at their lane.”
Chapter 9
The tires squealed as Drake made a hard left turn into the lane. I lost sight of the flames as the heavy canopy of trees closed in, but an orange glow to our right peered through at intervals. We followed the winding lane until we came into the open area at the front of the castle. The flames were still to our right.
“It’s not the castle, thank goodness,” I said as Drake brought the car to a halt beside the family Bentley.
“It’s in the direction of our cottage,” he replied tersely.
We both took off running at the same instant. A fruit orchard covered a couple of acres, beyond which Sarah had told me there were a number of small cottages and a few old buildings from ancient times. We stumbled between the apple and cherry trees, the glow becoming brighter and the heat from the fire already warming the air around us. We emerged into a small clearing past the orchard and saw the flaming structure.
The thatch roof of a small building was completely ablaze, with flames shooting twenty or thirty feet into the air. Its stone walls stood invincible, while several people raced around not accomplishing much of anything. I spotted Sarah Dunbar off to one side, wrestling with a fire extinguisher.
“Sarah!” I shouted.
She didn’t hear me. I nudged Drake and we headed toward her.
“Can Drake help with that?” I asked.
“Oh, Charlie! I’m so glad to see you. Yes, please,” she said, handing the extinguisher over to Drake.
His look told me he knew the small extinguisher would be useless, but he took it and ran to join the others, pulling the pin from the canister as he went.
“What happened?” I shouted above the roaring fire and the shouts of the people.
“I don’t know. We just discovered it,” she said. “Robert’s trying to get the pumper out here.”
At that moment a garden tractor appeared, with Robert driving, pulling an antique contraption of some kind. It jounced over ruts and onto the unmown turf surrounding the little hut. Men ran over to help him and they were soon unwinding a hose and cranking up a generator. Water pumped from the hose, in fitful spurts at first, then as a steady stream which was at least wet, if not forceful.
“What kind of building is that?” I asked Sarah.
“Oh, it’s a crofter’s hut,” she said. “Dreadfully old. Hasn’t been occupied for two or three hundred years, I’m sure. Old thatch ceiling must have been like a candle wick, you know.”
I guess I gave a puzzled look.
“They burned peat fires in those huts, fire ring on the floor, meat hanging from the ceiling to cure. Interiors of those places were coated in grease an inch thick.”
“Well, I can see how that would burn easily,” I said. “Maybe I should see if I can lend a hand.”
The men worked their way around the sides of the crofter’s cottage, dampening the flames on one side, just to have them flare up on another. I joined Drake, who’d set the fire extinguisher aside the minute the pumper showed up. We helped unwind some extra lengths of hose and then to bear its weight as it filled with water. At last, it looked like we were making some headway. The roaring flames had settled into
“And you have to deal with it.” I really didn’t want to sound bitter, but an edge crept in.
“For now.” He pulled me into a close embrace and rubbed my back. “Want to come along? We could get some dinner in town afterward.”
I gave him a quick kiss and went to look for my shoes.
The trip to the airport, moving both craft into a hangar—supervised by Fergus, who ‘yes mum’d’ me a lot—and dinner at a decent seafood place took hours, and it was nearly ten o’clock as we approached Dunworthy. Rounding a bend in the road I caught sight of flames leaping high into the air. My heart sped into high gear.
“The castle! Drake, turn in at their lane.”
Chapter 9
The tires squealed as Drake made a hard left turn into the lane. I lost sight of the flames as the heavy canopy of trees closed in, but an orange glow to our right peered through at intervals. We followed the winding lane until we came into the open area at the front of the castle. The flames were still to our right.
“It’s not the castle, thank goodness,” I said as Drake brought the car to a halt beside the family Bentley.
“It’s in the direction of our cottage,” he replied tersely.
We both took off running at the same instant. A fruit orchard covered a couple of acres, beyond which Sarah had told me there were a number of small cottages and a few old buildings from ancient times. We stumbled between the apple and cherry trees, the glow becoming brighter and the heat from the fire already warming the air around us. We emerged into a small clearing past the orchard and saw the flaming structure.
The thatch roof of a small building was completely ablaze, with flames shooting twenty or thirty feet into the air. Its stone walls stood invincible, while several people raced around not accomplishing much of anything. I spotted Sarah Dunbar off to one side, wrestling with a fire extinguisher.
“Sarah!” I shouted.
She didn’t hear me. I nudged Drake and we headed toward her.
“Can Drake help with that?” I asked.
“Oh, Charlie! I’m so glad to see you. Yes, please,” she said, handing the extinguisher over to Drake.
His look told me he knew the small extinguisher would be useless, but he took it and ran to join the others, pulling the pin from the canister as he went.
“What happened?” I shouted above the roaring fire and the shouts of the people.
“I don’t know. We just discovered it,” she said. “Robert’s trying to get the pumper out here.”
At that moment a garden tractor appeared, with Robert driving, pulling an antique contraption of some kind. It jounced over ruts and onto the unmown turf surrounding the little hut. Men ran over to help him and they were soon unwinding a hose and cranking up a generator. Water pumped from the hose, in fitful spurts at first, then as a steady stream which was at least wet, if not forceful.
“What kind of building is that?” I asked Sarah.
“Oh, it’s a crofter’s hut,” she said. “Dreadfully old. Hasn’t been occupied for two or three hundred years, I’m sure. Old thatch ceiling must have been like a candle wick, you know.”
I guess I gave a puzzled look.
“They burned peat fires in those huts, fire ring on the floor, meat hanging from the ceiling to cure. Interiors of those places were coated in grease an inch thick.”
“Well, I can see how that would burn easily,” I said. “Maybe I should see if I can lend a hand.”
The men worked their way around the sides of the crofter’s cottage, dampening the flames on one side, just to have them flare up on another. I joined Drake, who’d set the fire extinguisher aside the minute the pumper showed up. We helped unwind some extra lengths of hose and then to bear its weight as it filled with water. At last, it looked like we were making some headway. The roaring flames had settled into
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