Her sisters and Grandma Pauline looked at her with no small amount of pity.
“I assume you mean Dev,” Rachel offered, expertly taping off another corner of shiny red wrapping paper.
“Yes, I mean Dev.” Sarah winced as a contraction started—but the doctor had said as long as she could speak through them, she was fine. Fine. “One of these times he’s not going to come back because...” She had to stop and take a breath—but that wasn’t the same as not being able to speak through them. Right? “He’s off doing something stupid trying to end this all by himself.”
“I’m sorry, girl, but stopping a Wyatt boy from doing something stupid is like stopping the Earth from spinning,” Grandma Pauline said, curling ribbon with a pair of scissors. Then she looked up at where Sarah was standing, one hand pressing on her belly, desperately trying to arrange her face in something other than a grimace of pain.
“Are you having contractions?” Grandma Pauline demanded.
“Not...really.”
“Not really?” Liza shrieked, leaping to her feet.
“Just here and there. Very far apart.”
“Lord almighty,” Grandma Pauline said as all the women started to get to their feet.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“You have to get to the hospital.”
“I can’t! We can’t. It’s not time. You’re not supposed to go until the contractions are closer together. Besides, Santa has to come. You have to finish.”
“Your contractions might be close together by the time we brave the roads to get to town,” Liza said, helping Grandma Pauline to her feet. “Don’t be stubborn, Sarah.”
“It is not time yet,” Sarah repeated, ready to fight them off. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not on Christmas Eve. Not with Dev out...doing whatever he was about to do that she was just certain was going to get him hurt.
“Sarah.” Grandma Pauline’s voice was gentle, which had tears welling in Sarah’s eyes. “I know you’re scared. That’s all right. But we need to go.”
Sarah wanted to argue more, but Grandma being gentle with her made her feel...small. Silly. Like maybe all this fixation on Dev doing something stupid was just an attempt to take her mind off the fact that she was in labor. When she didn’t know how on earth she was going to push a baby out of her.
Before Sarah could say anything, acquiesce or argue more—because she really didn’t know which to do—the door to the kitchen slammed open and footsteps thundered toward them.
“Fire.” Tucker stumbled in, panting. “Stables are on fire. Called 911, but—”
Sarah looked around at the women in the room. She could see her sisters were reluctant to go because of her. But the stables weren’t just housing the horses for the Reaves ranch right now. They had all the Knight horses too.
She couldn’t stand the thought of anything but everyone working to get them safe. “Go. Please. Take care of this first. I promise you, there’s time on my end.”
Felicity and Nina exchanged a look, Sarah supposed because they’d both given birth. Felicity gave a little nod. But they didn’t rush out of the room. “We have to think this could be a trap.”
“The horses are in the stables,” Sarah said desperately. “And the hoses will be frozen. It’ll take forever for the fire department to get out here. If you let the men take care of it, they’ll do something extra stupid.”
“That’s true,” Nina agreed, but she looked at Sarah’s stomach with some trepidation.
“Nina, stay here and watch the girls with Cecilia,” Liza ordered, already heading for the door. “Grandma Pauline, you’re on Sarah duty. You’ll have Cee and Nina if things get hairy on the labor front.”
“I don’t need—”
But Liza, Rachel and Felicity were already gone, following Tucker out into the kitchen, which would lead them back outside. There wasn’t time to talk it over. Time was of the essence.
Grandma Pauline looked at Nina. “Grab a gun and go guard the girls’ rooms with Cecilia. Sarah and I will get the rifles and sit tight on this level.”
Rifles. Sarah pressed a hand to her tightening stomach. “He isn’t after us. He’s after the boys.”
Grandma Pauline sighed. “That doesn’t mean he won’t come after us to get to them.”
DEV DIDN’T THINK anyone was under the assumption the fire was just a fire. Jamison had instructed everyone to stay with a partner—one to be part of the bucket brigade, and one to stay close to watch out for any attacks.
Because no one could argue with the fact they had to get the horses out of the stables before the fire consumed them.
There was no way to get hoses working in the subzero temperatures, so they’d had to start a bucket brigade, passing buckets of water from the one spigot that wasn’t frozen. They’d never be able to put out the fire in its entirety. They just needed a space to get the horses out.
He could hear their worried whinnies, but it looked like the fire had started from the outside. If that was the case, he could still save them.
Jamison was stationed closest to the blaze, determining where to throw the buckets of water.
“I’ve got to go in,” Dev said over the sounds of the howling wind and the crackling blaze. Snow was falling but not at a rapid enough pace to extinguish the man-made fire. The smell of gasoline was almost overwhelming.
It had been set. To get them out here, but the women in the house were armed. Capable of fending off an attack. Every group of people was taking precautions. Though Dev didn’t think Anth was going for the house. No, he wanted him out here. Outside where there was less protection, less cohesiveness.
They’d been drawn out to be targets. Dev was sure of that. Once he saved his horses, he’d be whatever target Anth wanted. It was time to end this.
“It’s still too dangerous,” Jamison said.
Dev shook his head. “Too much longer and we lose the horses. Just water down my coat. It’ll only take
