Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Phillip turned and went after her but damn, she was lightning-fast. When he reached the front door, she was gone. Nowhere in sight. The heat of the day blistered down and he didn’t even see puffs of dust indicating where she had headed.
“Fire! Fire! The fields are burning!”
The chilling cry reached him and he was moving to his horse right away. He rode toward the cries and found a smaller farm on the other side of the town from his property had a burning field.
He hopped off his mount and jumped in to help try to save what they could. As he got into the motion of the shoveling, he thought about Fyre’s concerns and realized she’d had a valid point. Something he hadn’t even considered.
Where he lived held some harsh memories for a lot of the people on the island. And she was an anomaly, an amazing one, but for a woman doing the work she did, again, he’d looked beyond what doing those things would be like for her.
Christ, he was an idiot.
Add into that a sneaky bastard dropping these lines in her ear about how he was just trying to build up his empire no matter the cost. Apparently that could mean sleeping with her while he was supposed to want a woman like Miss Asherford.
And while that couldn’t be further from the truth, he couldn’t deny how Fyre could see things. He had some damage control to take care of, after this.
* * * *
It wasn’t until later in the afternoon, when they were good with the containment of the blaze, that he stopped working with those who’d come help fight the fire. It was Mr. Colton, a Black man who he had not had at his party but realized he needed to include in the alliance. This island could be a force to be reckoned with if they worked together. Accepting the ladle of water offered, Phillip thought about how he was going to do another gathering, with everyone this time.
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Glad we got it stopped and you are welcome. When you have some time next week, I would love the chance to speak with you about your farm.”
“I am not selling, my lord. I know there was a fire, but this is all my family has.”
He understood the mistrust. “I am not looking to buy you out, Mr. Colton. I want to discuss with you what I have talked to others about. Choice is yours of course. I have to get home. Let me know if you need anything.”
Phillip found his horse had been looked after as well. He swung up into the saddle and wiped off his forehead before he touched his heels to his gelding and moved out.
As he reached town again, he saw James bent at the waist, sucking in air.
“James?”
“My lord.” He gestured around. “Bad. Very bad.”
Phillip looked around and shrugged, not quite sure what James was talking about. Off in the distance, he saw dark clouds gathering, but the rain was too far away to be of use in dousing the heat they were suffering from.
“Are you okay, James?”
“Yes, my lord. I will be. Running messages.”
“What kind of messages?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. I do not read them, I just run them.”
“Who are you running them for?”
“Mr. Olden.”
Shifting in the saddle, Phillip didn’t look in the direction of the man’s sweet shop. “To whom?”
“A shack. I do not know who. I leave them and pick up the message that is waiting.”
Alarm bells rang in his head.
“Where is the shack?”
James’ description of the location was close to where he had been and he figured it may be the same place. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out some coins and tossed them to the boy. “Get a drink.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
He didn’t move until the boy had headed off again. Around him wind swirled, reminding him that it was still hot and dry out.
With a groan and an exhausted body, he nudged his mount toward home. Even so, he still swung by Fyre’s, needing to see her and talk to her again. He had to explain his comment at Caulfield’s to her. But the place was empty, no sign of her at all.
Phillip frowned as the acrid scent of smoke reached his nose on the winds that had been steadily increasing. While there were storm clouds in view, there were all out to sea.
It was dry and crops were suffering. So were the people. His horse snorted and sidestepped.
Without much conscious thought, he brought his mount back under control. He gazed around, unease skipping up his spine.
Something was wrong.
Setting his heels to his gelding, he thundered up the road, and realized as he got closer to Hawk’s Cove that the smoke grew infinitely worse.
Keating stood on the porch, issuing orders to all as people worried about.