Chapter 3
“Ma!” Blaze cried.
She gasped, her hand pressed against the sudden dark bloom spreading across her chest. Her eyes darted toward Blaze and Rachel, wide with pain but still fierce.
“Stay . . . with your sister,” she whispered, the words breaking apart like dry sticks.
Rachel screamed, shrill and broken. “No! Mama!”
She lurched forward, but Blaze caught her, arms tight around her waist. He dragged her back even as his own legs shook. His throat burned. His mother swayed, her back hitting the wall. Then she slumped to the floor.
“No!” Blaze’s cry tore from deep in his chest. His knees nearly gave out, but he held Rachel, who was thrashing against him.
Wilder sat tall in his saddle, his silver tooth glinting as he spun his Smith & Wesson Model 3 revolver on his finger.
“Told her plain,” he said. “Give it over, or lose somethin’ dear. Guess she made her choice.”
“You killed her!” Blaze shouted, his voice ragged.
“Sharp boy,” Wilder said, grinning. “Got yourself eyes.”
“Monster!” Rachel shrieked. Her face was wet with tears, her fists pounding against Blaze’s arms as though she could break free and charge at Wilder herself.
“She was nothin’ but a mouthy widow,” Wilder said. He cocked his head, mock-thoughtful. “But a pretty one once, I’ll grant. Shame.”
“You shut your mouth!” Blaze cried. His hand trembled around his Colt. His vision blurred with hot tears.
“Careful, pup,” Wilder said, his grin sharpening. “Drawin’ on me won’t bring her back.”
“You’ll pay for this,” Blaze said, his words barely more than a whisper, pulled raw from somewhere deeper than fear.
“Hear that, boys?” Wilder called, turning to his men. “The pup thinks he can bite.”
The Riders laughed, a cruel chorus. One of them spat into the dirt.
“We’ll make him yelp when he tries!” another said.
Rachel pressed her face into Blaze’s shirt, sobbing so hard her body shook. Blaze held her close, but his own tears flowed freely. He couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t stop anything.
“You’re cowards!” Blaze spat at the Riders. “All of you! Grown men against one woman . . . against a little girl!”
“Careful with your tongue, son,” Wilder said, his voice cold now. “Or I’ll see if that little girl of yours screams louder than her mama.”
Rachel stiffened, clutching Blaze tighter.
“Don’t let them, Blaze,” she whispered frantically. “Don’t let them touch me.”
“They won’t,” Blaze said quickly, though his voice cracked. He swallowed hard, wiping his sleeve across his eyes. “I won’t let ’em.”
“Big promises,” Wilder mocked. “Just like your pa. He thought he could stand tall. Look where that got him.”
“You killed him too,” Blaze said, his voice shaking. “And you lied about gold to cover your sins.”
“Gold’s no lie,” Wilder snapped, momentarily losing his smooth drawl. “I’ll dig it out yet, and no brat or corpse will stop me.”
Rachel lifted her tear-streaked face, trembling. “You’ll never find it. Because it don’t exist.”
The Riders barked laughter again. Wilder leaned on his saddle horn, his gaze fixed on her through the curtains.
“Oh, I’ll find it. If not here, then somewhere nearby. But I reckon you two know more than you let on. And if you don’t, well, I can make you useful another way.”
“Stay away from us!” Blaze shouted. He dragged Rachel back a step, his whole body taut as a bowstring. His eyes burned from crying, but his gaze never left Wilder. “You can’t scare me!” Blaze yelled, though his voice cracked in the middle. “You hear me? You don’t scare me!”
Wilder’s grin returned, that silver tooth flashing like a knife. “Boy, you’re already scared. I can smell it on you.”
Rachel sobbed, clutching Blaze’s shirt.
“I want Mama,” she whispered. “I want her back.”
Blaze squeezed her, his chest aching so badly he thought he’d break.
Wilder holstered his pistol slowly. “We’ll give ’em time, boys. Let the brats sit with her body a while. Maybe then they’ll remember where that gold is.”
“You’ll rot in hell,” Blaze spat.
“I’ll take that ride when I’m ready,” Wilder said, tipping his hat mockingly. “Till then, I’ll ride Nevada.”
The Riders whooped and laughed, dust rising in the moonlight as their horses circled.
“Cover the house from the porch to the barn,” Wilder called out. “Don’t leave a corner dry!”
Blaze’s stomach twisted as he saw the Riders dragging barrels of kerosene and oil across the yard. They poured it along the wooden siding, the porch, and the edges of the barn. Sparks from their matches danced dangerously near the liquid, and Blaze felt bile rise in his throat.
“Light it,” Wilder ordered, his silver tooth flashing as he grinned.
A match hissed against the soaked boards. The flames surged instantly, hungry and bright, licking upward along the siding and the dry porch. Smoke billowed into the night, thick and black, curling like a living thing.
“Rachel!” Blaze shouted, yanking her close. “We have to move! Now!”
“I . . . I can’t leave!” she cried. “Everything . . .”
“Stay with me! Just stay with me!” Blaze yelled, dragging her toward the side of the house. Smoke stung their eyes and burned their lungs. He ripped a scrap of cloth from his jacket, pressing it over her mouth and nose, then did the same for himself. “Breathe slow! In and out!”
The fire roared louder, a living monster hungrily devouring the house. The barn behind them groaned and splintered, beams cracking under the heat.
Horses kicked and screamed in the corral, hooves pounding sparks from the dry ground. Blaze’s stomach twisted at the panic around him . . . at the helplessness of it all.
“They’re going to burn everything!” Rachel wailed, pressing into him.
“I know!” Blaze shouted, though his voice was hoarse. “We can’t stop it! We have to get out of the smoke. Come on!”
He pulled her toward a small dip in the yard, just beyond the worst of the flames. They stumbled over rocks and brush, coughing through the smoke. Blaze could feel the heat pressing against his back, threatening to pull him down.
“Blaze . . . it’s so hot . . .” Rachel sobbed, her tiny hands clutching his shirt.
“I know. Just a little farther!” he said, forcing his legs to keep moving. A plank from the porch fell with a sharp crack, sparks flying as it hit the ground near them. Blaze ducked instinctively, dragging Rachel down with him.
The fire had consumed the barn entirely now, a collapsing skeleton of smoldering beams and glowing embers. The house’s front wall was blackened and warped, the windows shattered, and flames poured from the upper story. Sparks shot high into the night sky.
“They’re going to burn it all,” Rachel whimpered, pressing tighter against him.
“I know,” Blaze said, his voice breaking. “But we’re alive. That’s what matters. We’re safe . . . for now.”
From the shadows beyond the yard, Wilder called out, his voice carrying easily over the roar of the fire.
“Better get yourselves to a good spot to watch! Don’t want to miss the finale!”
Blaze’s stomach churned. The silver tooth in Wilder’s grin reflected the flames, making him look monstrous in the firelight.
“They’re . . . they’re still here,” Rachel whimpered.
“I know,” he said, pressing a hand to her back. “Stay with me. Just stay low.”
They crawled through a patch of sagebrush to a small rise just beyond the fence. It was close enough to see the full destruction but distant enough to avoid the worst of the heat.
They both sank to their knees.
The house was fully alight now, flames surging through the roof. The barn behind them was reduced to a heap of glowing embers, sparks dancing up into the wind.
“They’re . . . they’re watching it burn,” Rachel whispered.
Blaze pressed a hand over her shoulders. He didn’t know what to say.
No words could have made any of this better.
The Riders lingered at the edge of the yard, shouting and whooping. They were taking in the fire from a safe distance. Blaze saw Wilder dismount, standing with his hands on his hips, watching the flames consume the house with a satisfaction that made Blaze’s blood boil.
“Look at it!” one of the men shouted. “All hers, all gone!”
“Don’t get too close,” Wilder said. “Enjoy the view, then mount up. Nothing left here now but ashes.”
Blaze’s eyes burned with tears and smoke. He pressed himself against Rachel, trying to shield her as best he could behind a small bush.
“It’s not over,” he whispered. “We’ve got to stay alive. They’re still out there. But we’ll find a way.”
They stayed there, watching as the Buckeye home and barn were consumed by fire. The heat pressed against their faces. Sparks rose high, carried by the wind, fading into the darkness above the desert.