Pine Haven, Texas
January 1881
The sound of shattering glass snatched Lily Warren awake. She bolted upright in bed with a gasp, only to feel her lungs fill with acrid smoke. Coughing uncontrollably, she threw the quilt back and tugged on her dressing gown.
Unfamiliar with her surroundings, she fumbled about in the darkness, searching for the doorway to the stairs that led to her new shop.
Heavy footsteps pounded on the staircase outside her room. Lily turned toward the sound, desperate for fresh air. The coughing racked her chest, and she was getting dizzy.
She cried out between coughs. “Help!”
The door burst open, and the orange glow of flames gave her enough light to stumble toward her rescuer.
Her landlord, Edward Stone, came into the room with an arm across his face in an apparent effort to keep from breathing in the smoke. “Do you have something to wrap up in? A blanket?” His voice was intense.
She reached for her mother’s quilt on the bed, though the coughing hindered her movements.
He snatched it up and, before she knew what he was going to do, wrapped it around her shoulders and picked her up like a child.
She stiffened and argued, “I can walk.”
“Try to keep your mouth closed until I get you outside.” He kicked the doorway open wider and started down the stairs.
“What?” Pressed against his chest, she couldn’t hear over the roar of the growing fire.
“Quiet! The smoke.” He reached the bottom of the stairs and turned toward the back door.
She could see the flames licking up the side of the back wall and climbing across her workbench. All the beautiful hats she’d made for her shop were being consumed by the hungry fire.
Kicking and squirming against Edward, she screamed, “My stock!”
He tightened his hold on her and reversed his direction to take her out the front door. He turned back to face the building and lowered her to stand in front of him.
The church bell rang from the opposite end of the street.
She tried to move away from him, but her hair was tangled in the buckle on his suspenders. She cried out in pain as it pulled.
“Hold still.” He spoke close to her ear. “I’ll try not to hurt you, but I’ve got to put the fire out.” He tugged at the knotted curls.
A voice barked behind them. “Stone! Is anyone still inside?” The sheriff came running up the street.
With a final and painful pull, Lily was free of him. She turned to see what must be most of the town’s population coming from every direction.
Edward shot around her and hollered his answer to the sheriff as he went back through the front door of her shop. “No one else was here. I think it’s contained in the workroom in the back. There’s a rain barrel in the alley behind the back door.” The sheriff ran toward the rear of the shop.
Lily stumbled on the ends of her mother’s quilt when she started up the steps. A man she hadn’t met in the two days since her arrival in Pine Haven restrained her. “You can’t go in there, miss,” he said.
“My stock is inside!” She turned to plead with him to let her go. He wasn’t tall or large, but was strong for his size, and she couldn’t break free. “Everything I own is in there.”
The lady from the general store came up beside them. “Miss Warren, you mustn’t resist. The men need to put out the fire so it doesn’t spread to the rest of town.” Mrs. Croft put an arm around her shoulders. “Doc Willis, I’ve got her. Help them! Please!”
Smoke boiled through the open front door now. Lily could see Edward’s shape through the haze as he swung his coat to beat back the flames. Every available man and woman scurried to form a line and pass buckets filled from the water troughs and barrels near the surrounding buildings.
Lily shrugged off Mrs. Croft’s confining arm. “I’ve got to help at least.” She let the quilt drop to the dirt and ran to fill a wide place in the line of townsfolk fighting to help their newest resident.
It had only been minutes, but seemed like hours, when Edward appeared in the front doorway with his charred coat lifted high in one hand. “It’s out! We did it!”
Cheers went up from the crowd, and the line fell away. Everyone gathered near the steps of her shop.
Lily pushed her way through the people and stopped at the open front door. Water covered the floors she’d polished on her first day. Mud tracked through to the workroom. She leaned against the jamb.
She turned to look at Edward. “How bad is it?” Water ran in tiny rivulets through the soot on his face.
“I’m afraid your stock is ruined. What didn’t burn will be damaged by the smoke and water.” He dragged an arm across his forehead and smeared the soot away from his eyes.
Mrs. Croft came through the crowd at the bottom of the steps. “Miss Warren, please.” The woman held Lily’s quilt up by the corners. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, and her eyes darted toward the people gathered behind her. “You need to cover yourself.”
Lily gasped and looked down at herself. The tie to her dressing gown had loosened while she passed one bucket of water after another. The lace of her nightgown peeked out where the robe gaped open. She snatched the quilt from Mrs. Croft and wrapped it around her shoulders, clenching it tight, high against her neck. The heat climbing up her throat let her know she was turning as pink as the nightgown everyone in town had just seen.
“Thank you, Mrs. Croft.” The mortification she experienced at the woman’s condemning stare almost dwarfed the loss of her belongings. Almost.
She turned back to Edward. “Thank you for saving me.” She remembered the feel of his arms around her as he carried her from the building. Strong, determined, protecting.
“You don’t owe me any thanks. I’m just sorry we couldn’t save your merchandise.” As her landlord, he’d want Lily’s Millinery and Finery to be a success. How could it be now, with nothing to sell?
Mrs. Croft’s tinny voice broke into their conversation. “How did you see the fire, Mr. Stone?” Her lips were pinched tight, and her eyes narrowed.
“I was on my porch and saw the glow through the shop windows.” He seemed at ease explaining what happened, but Lily’s stomach sank and pressure built behind her eyes when she looked at Mrs. Croft and knew the woman was making an accusation.
The busybody confirmed Lily’s suspicions with her next words. “But your porch faces in the opposite direction.” A hum of low conversations ran through the people who’d only just put out the fire. Now the woman from the general store was trying to start another one. The kind that could destroy Lily’s reputation. The potential damage could forever ruin her business before it opened.
Several of the people gathered looked over their shoulders in the direction of the blacksmith’s shop and home. His porch faced a lane that ran perpendicular to Main Street. Lily held her breath.
Edward’s tone was clipped. “I was leaning on the corner post and