Her Patchwork Family by Lyn Cote

Author:Lyn Cote
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2009-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

Felicity woke suddenly in the dark.

“Help! Help!”

She bolted from her bed.

She heard the sound of someone falling downstairs, loud bumping and grunts and groans.

“Stop!” a voice yelled. And then a yelp of pain. A little girl screamed. A crash and glass breaking.

Hand trembling, Felicity lit a candle and ran barefoot into the dark hall. Now she recognized the shouting. It was Tucker’s voice. She ran down the stairs toward the sounds.

“What’s happening?” she called out.

“Miss Felicity! Help!” Camie shrieked.

Felicity raced into the dining room. A man, his face covered with a cloth bag, was swinging a chair at the cracked bow window. Tucker gripped the back of the man’s jacket. The intruder swung around and hit Tucker in the head with the chair. The boy fell.

Felicity screamed.

The man swung the chair at her, hitting her on the side of the head, knocking the candle from her hand. She bumped against the walnut buffet. And then fell hard onto the oak floor.

More glass breaking. The candle rolled against the long sheers at the bow window. They burst into flame, lighting the room suddenly. The intruder scrambled out the shattered bow window.

Tucker jumped up. At the window, he yelled, “Abel! Get your gun! Abel!”

Felicity rolled to her feet. Dazed, she looked around for something to fight the fire with. She ran into the hall, picked up the needlepoint rug and raced to the burning wall. She began beating the flames with the rug.

“The children! Tucker! Go get the children and Midge out of their beds!” she ordered. “Get them outside! Fire!” she shrieked out the window. “Fire!”

A gun discharged. A man cursed. Another gunshot.

Felicity beat at the fire. The wallpaper burst into red-orange flames. Sparks and ash flew around her head. Then Vista was there beside her beating the flames, too. Outside, people began appearing at the bow window. The cry of “Fire! Fire!” burst out from everywhere, echoing, echoing.

Felicity began coughing with the smoke. Then Vista turned and struck her back with a rug. Felicity dropped to the floor, coughing, coughing. The front door burst open. Felicity could feel the pounding of feet through the floor. She tried to speak, but only coughed violently, retching.

“Get Miss Felicity outside!” Vista shouted. “She’s been burned!” Then Vista began coughing, too, staggering forward.

Light-headed, Felicity felt herself being dragged by her wrists. She wanted to get up, but the hands dragging her were stronger than she. When the hands dropped her, she lay on the chill dew-dampened grass. By the light of the fire, she saw that a man was working the pump in the backyard. A bucket brigade had been formed. She lay gasping for air.

“Are you all right?”

Felicity looked up and recognized Mrs. Partridge. “Chil…dren! Children?” She tried to get up.

Mrs. Partridge pushed her down. “The children and their nurse all got out safely. I counted them. See?” The woman pointed toward the sidewalk, where the children stood huddled around Midge and Vista. “The big boy got them all down the stairs. He carried the littlest one.

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