The Ladies of Sweetwater Lake

What am I doing? Darcy thought. I have no business thinking about Joshua Markham in any terms other than a firefighter and an acquaintance.

She started to switch on the engine and leave before anyone knew they were at the firehouse. Too late. Joshua waved from the door and strode toward her and her son.

“See, he’s expecting us,” Sean said.

Darcy wanted to hide. She felt the heat suffuse her cheeks as the man walked to the truck, a smile of greeting on his face. The first thing she thought about was the dusty jeans she wore and the old, worn shirt. Why hadn’t she changed before coming into town? And why did she care?

Joshua stopped on her side of the truck, his face framed in the window, only a few inches from her. She rolled down the window and forced a smile to her lips. “Is this a bad time to visit?”

Please let it be, she silently added, responding to his heart-melting grin. Her pulse accelerated.

THE LADIES OF SWEETWATER LAKE:

Like a wedding ring, this circle of friends is neverending.

GOLD IN THE FIRE (LI #273)

A MOTHER FOR CINDY (LI #283)

LIGHT IN THE STORM (LI #297)

MARGARET DALEY

feels she has been blessed. She has been married for thirty-three years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun, who married his high school sweetheart in June 2002.

Margaret has been writing for many years and loves to tell a story. When she was a little girl, she would play with her dolls and make up stories about their lives. Now she writes these stories down. She especially enjoys weaving stories about families and how faith in God can sustain a person when things get tough. When she isn’t writing, she is fortunate to be a teacher for students with special needs. Margaret has taught for over twenty years and loves working with her students. She has also been a Special Olympics coach and has participated in many sports with her students.

Gold in the Fire

Margaret Daley

MILLS & BOON

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These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.

—1 Peter 1:7

To Laura Marie Altom, a friend who helped me find where I belonged as a writer.

Thank you.

To Paige Wheeler, my agent, who has been a great support.

Thank you.

To Ann Leslie Tuttle and Diane Dietz, my two editors at Love Inspired, who have believed in me.

Thank you.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Chapter One

Darcy O’Brien’s hands shook as she brushed her hair behind her ears. She stared down at her fingers, covered with soot, the black reminding her of the charred remains of the barn only yards away. The heat from the fire chased away the early-morning chill. Smoke curled upward from the darkened boards to disappear in the fog that had rolled in to encase her in a gray cocoon. But there was nothing protective and safe about her surroundings.

Eerie. Unearthly. Darcy shivered and hugged her arms to her.

“Ma’am?”

The sound of a deep, husky voice floated to her from the swirls of smoke and fog. Her eyes stung as she searched the yard. Emerging from the shroud of gray a man appeared, dressed in a black jacket with yellow strips and black pants. He removed his fire helmet and cradled it under his arm. Dark brown hair, damp from sweat, lay at odd angles. Black smudges highlighted the hard angles of his face and emphasized the blueness of his eyes. For just a moment Darcy thought of a warrior striding purposefully toward her.

“Yes, may I help you?” she asked, pushing away her fantasy.

“That man over there said you’re the one in charge.” The firefighter tossed his head in the direction of Jake, one of the grooms.

The idea that she was in charge weighed heavily on her shoulders, even though it was only for a few months. She straightened, ignoring the exhaustion that cleaved to every part of her. “Yes, I am.”

The firefighter stuck his hand out. “I’m Joshua Markham. I conduct the arson investigations for the department.”

“Arson?”

The strong feel of his handshake reassured her. For a few seconds she forgot the past couple of hours. Then she remembered pulling the frightened horses to safety, watching the barn go up in flames, the scent of burned wood heavy in the air. But mostly she remembered trying to persuade her father to return to the main house before he collapsed. That had been the hardest task of all.

“Yes, ma’am, it’s definitely a possibility. This is the third barn fire in the past few weeks.”

“Please call me Darcy. ‘Ma’am’ reminds me of my students.”

He moved away from the pile of blackened rubble. Darcy followed. When she looked back toward the barn, all she saw was the swirls of fog. The stench of smoke clung to the air.

“When it’s safe, I’ll bring in my dog. I’ll know more after I can take some samples and check the area out more thoroughly.”

“Dog?” Her mind refused to grasp the implication of what he was saying.

“He’ll be able to locate where the fire originated. We’ll pinpoint what the accelerant was. If it matches the other fires, we’ll know we have a serial arsonist on our hands.”

“Serial arsonist? But why here?”

Joshua shrugged. “There are countless reasons why someone sets a fire. Most are for some kind of personal gain, but occasionally we find a person who just likes to set fires and watch them burn.”

Darcy shuddered. Sweetwater was always such a quiet town, not like where she lived now. Even though there were nearly fifteen thousand people in Sweetwater, she still thought of it as a small, close-knit community.

“If it’s arson, there’ll be a thorough investigation.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll be looking into all the reasons why someone would set a fire. That includes personal gain.”

For a moment her mind went blank. Stunned, she couldn’t think of a reply.

“Just thought I’d let you know.”

“Why?”

“I know your father had a heart attack a few weeks ago. Shamus Flanaghan is a respected member of our community. I don’t think he had anything to do with this, but I still have to check out the possibility.”

“And you want me to cushion the blow?”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “Yes, ma—Darcy. I would appreciate it.”

“So in other words, you want me to help you with your investigation.”

Joshua plowed his hand through his damp hair. “Well, not exactly. I just don’t want to be responsible for causing your father further grief. But questions will have to be asked—and answered.”

“Then you can ask me. As of last week, I’m acting as the manager of this farm until my father gets back on his feet.” If she said it enough times, perhaps it would be true.

“I’ll be back later with my camera and Arnold. I’ll know more after I take a look around.” He put his helmet on. “Good day.”

Frustration churned in her stomach as she watched the firefighter walk away, the thick fog and smoke swallowing him until all she saw was a gray wall. Another shiver rippled down her spine. What in the world had she gotten herself into? A serial arsonist?

Normally this was her favorite time of day, when the sun was just peeking over the horizon, the sky lit with color, the birds chirping in the nearby trees. Even when it was foggy, there was a certain appeal to dawn, a mystery waiting to be uncovered. But now there was a real mystery. Who would want to set fires to barns filled with horses?

A pounding behind her eyes hammered at her temples. Her father raised jumpers and hunters. People from all over the country came to him. His reputation as a breeder had always been paramount to him—at times to the exclusion of even his family.

Darcy closed her eyes for a few seconds and tried to compose her shattered nerves. There was so much she had to do. She didn’t know where to begin. Finally she decided she had to check on her father first, to make sure he was following his doctor’s orders, before she could even take the time to assimilate this latest news.

She started up the road that led to the main house, white painted fences on either side of the asphalt. Somewhere out in those fields were some of their prize brood-mares. But the fog that adhered to the ground obscured her view. She would need to make sure all the horses were accounted for—after she saw her father and reassured herself that he was all right.

She entered the house through the back door. Lizzy Johnson, the petite housekeeper, stood at the stove, shaking her head while she prepared French toast. A strand of gray hair fell forward on her forehead. With a heavy sigh, she brushed it back in place.

“What’s wrong, Lizzy?”

“One thing. Shamus. He insists on eating a proper breakfast. He wanted eggs, bacon and toast. He’s getting French toast. I figure that’s better than a plate full of cholesterol-high eggs fried in bacon grease.”

The frustration in Lizzy’s voice matched her own feelings. Darcy knew how difficult her father could be. He didn’t like change, and the new diet his doctor wanted him on was definitely a change.

“I’ll have a word with Dad. Is he in his room resting?”

Lizzy arched a brow. “Resting? No, he’s dressed and ready to go back down to the barn.”

“But he promised me—” Darcy swallowed the rest of her sentence. It was hopeless. Her father didn’t know how to take it easy or to follow orders. Why had she thought she would be able to help her father recover when he had never slowed down for anything in the past, not even when her mother had died? He’d put in almost a full day of work the day of the funeral.

“Child, he’s in the dining room drinking his coffee. Praise the Lord, decaf. But it was a battle to get him to drink that instead of regular coffee. I’m surprised you didn’t hear it down at the barn.” Lizzy flipped over the pieces of bread, her gaze clouding. “How bad is it?”

“Bad. The barn is completely gone. Thankfully no one was hurt, but we lost one mare in foal. The rest of the horses we managed to save. Now I have to handle finding places to stable seventeen mares until we can rebuild the barn.” Darcy thought back to what Joshua Markham had said about a serial arsonist. What if the other barns were in danger?

“And a father who won’t listen to his doctor’s advice.”

“Yes, that, too.”

“Here, I suspect you could use some of this. Just keep it away from your father.” Lizzy passed her a glass pot full of a dark brown brew. “This has lots of caffeine.”

“Thanks. I can always count on you, Lizzy,” Darcy murmured as she made her way into the dining room.

Pausing halfway down the long, cherry-wood table that seated twelve, she put the pot on a thick place mat. Then, instead of sitting, she gripped the back of a brocade-covered chair, leaning into it for support.

Her father glanced up from reading the newspaper. “I thought you were Lizzy with the breakfast she insists I eat. What’s taking her so long? Never mind—I’m sure she’s not hurrying because she doesn’t think I should go down to the barn.”

“You shouldn’t, Dad. I can take care of everything. Did you rest at all?”

He frowned. “Rest when one of my barns is burning? What do you think?”

“When did you come back to the house?”

He looked away, busying himself with taking several sips of his coffee.

“Dad?”

“Thirty minutes ago.” His sharp eyes returned to her face. “Did you really think I would go back to the house and sleep? I thought you knew me better than that.”

Darcy took in the tired lines etched into his weathered face, an ashen cast to it. She noticed the slump to his shoulders and the slight trembling as he brought the cup to his lips. He was barely holding himself together, and she didn’t know how to make him stop and rest before he— She wouldn’t think about what could happen to him if he didn’t do what the doctor said. Their relationship might not be a strong one, but he was her father and she cared.

“Dad, there isn’t anything you can do now. I can take care of stabling the mares and seeing to the mess. That’s why I came home to help you.”

“When I agreed to you coming home to help, it wasn’t for something like this. I could have lost a third of my breeding stock last night.”

Her grip on the chair tightened until pain shot up her arms. “I’m capable of handling it.”

“This is my life.” He thumped his chest. “I need to see to it.”

Darcy pulled out the chair and sat before she collapsed. The long night was finally catching up with her, and she felt the lack of sleep in every fiber of her being.

“If you don’t take care of yourself and follow the doctor’s orders, there will be no life to see to.”

“You don’t mince words.”

“You’ve always taught me to tell it like it is. You’ve been home from the hospital only a few days. You aren’t supposed to deal with anything stressful, especially something like what happened last night.”

He leaned forward, clasping the edge of the table. “Don’t you understand, not knowing is more stressful than seeing to my job.”

“I came up here to check on you, then I intend to return to make sure everything is taken care of. I’ll report back to you as soon as I deal with stabling the mares. I’ll keep you informed as if you’re right there.” The tightness in her throat threatened to cut off her words. She swallowed several times and continued. “Please let me do this for you.” Please, for once in your life, need me.

For several moments he stared at her. Then suddenly he slumped back in the chair and dropped his head. “You win. This time. But I don’t intend to stay in my room for long. Just as soon as I feel a little better, I’ll be down at the barn.”

The weak thread to his words, the fact that he’d backed down, underscored how sick her father really was. He would never admit more than he had, but she knew he was definitely feeling the effects of being up most of the night.

“Then you’ll go rest and wait for me to come see you?”

He nodded.

Darcy poured herself some coffee, her hands trembling as much as her father’s had. She didn’t particularly like the bitter taste, but she needed a lot of caffeine to keep herself going. She decided to tell her father later about what Joshua Markham had said concerning the fire probably being the work of an arsonist. Until Joshua confirmed it, she didn’t want to upset her father any more than he already was. But if there was someone going around setting fire to barns, the next few months would be more difficult than she had anticipated. Somehow she had to protect her father, even though he would fight her every inch of the way. Maybe then she would live up to what he expected.

From the paddock Darcy saw Joshua with a big black dog exploring the pile of burned rubble that had once been the broodmare barn. This afternoon was so different from earlier, when smoke had lingered in the air and the sun had been obscured. Now the sun’s rays touched her face and warmed her skin. The sweet smell of freshly mowed grass peppered the air, almost wiping away the memory of the fire, the smell of charred wood—until she looked at the destruction the flames had caused.

With a sigh, she made her way toward Joshua, who ducked under the yellow tape that cordoned off the area. He strode toward his pickup with his dog on a leash and holding two metal cans.

“Did you find anything?” she asked, catching herself staring at the man, dressed in his navy-blue firefighter’s uniform, his badge glittering in the sunlight. She forced herself to look down at the dog at his side before he found her staring at him.

He stored the metal cans alongside some others in the back of his truck, then secured a tarpaulin over them. “Not sure until the lab report comes back, but Arnold was very interested in several spots. I took some samples.”

“He’s a beauty.” She rubbed the black Labrador retriever behind his ears. “How long have you had him?”

“Three years. He’s garnishing quite a reputation in the state.”

“Reputation?”

“He’s ninety-to ninety-five-percent accurate when pinpointing the accelerant in a fire. Much better than the machine we used to have.” Joshua opened the cab door and indicated to the dog to jump inside. “So when there’s a questionable fire, Arnold and I get called out.”

“Does that keep you busy?”

“Sometimes.”

Arnold poked his head out the open window and prodded Darcy with his nose. She laughed and scratched him behind his ears some more.

“He likes you.”

“I love animals.”

The blue gleam in his eyes dimmed. “I’m sorry about the horse you lost in the fire.”

“She was in foal. My son took it quite hard.”

“Son? Was that the young man down here when I came?”

“Probably. Red hair, freckles, eight?”

“Yep. He had a few questions to ask me.”

“Just a few?”

“Well, more like twenty.” Joshua leaned against the cab of the truck, folding his arms across his chest.

“You got off easy. His curiosity will get him into trouble one day. I’m surprised he isn’t still here.”

“Said something about helping with a foal.”

Darcy peered toward the second broodmare barn a paddock away. “Yes, we had one born last night. That’s where I was when the fire broke out.”

“It seems last night was an eventful night for you.”

“And one I don’t want to repeat anytime soon.”

“I need to talk with your father. When would be a good time?”

“He’s resting right now. I’d rather not disturb him. He didn’t get any sleep last night.”

“Did you?”

The probe of Joshua’s gaze caused her to blush. She must look a sight—with circles under her eyes and some soot from the fire probably still on her face. She hadn’t even taken the time to clean up properly. She raised her hand to wipe at her cheeks as if that would erase any evidence of the night before.

“No, not for thirty-six hours. I tried to take a nap a few hours ago, but when I closed my eyes, all I saw were flames.”

“That sounds like one of my dreams. One of the hazards of being a firefighter, I guess.” He pushed away from the truck. “I need to ask you some questions too. I’ve already interviewed the others who were here last night.”

A shiver shimmered down her length when she thought back to the night before. “I’m not sure I can be of much help. All I was thinking about was getting the horses to safety.” The memory of the one mare she hadn’t been able to save pierced through her armor. The horse’s cries would haunt her for a long time.

“I need to drop these samples off, then I’ll take Arnold home. After that, I’ll be back to talk to you and your father.” Joshua started past her, stopped and twisted back around. “I wish we had met under better circumstances.”

“So do I.”

“I know this can’t be easy coming home to all this.”

That was definitely an understatement, she thought. But she never shared her worries with others. She’d learned a long time ago to keep her concerns to herself. She was about to make a light comment when her son appeared in the yard, yelling to get their attention. He raced toward them, skidding to a halt next to her.

Sean smiled up at Joshua. “Oh, good. You haven’t left yet. Mom, did you meet Arnold? Isn’t he neat? He has the best nose in the state. When something smells wrong, he’ll sit.”

Darcy laughed. “This chatterbox is my son, Sean O’Brien, just in case he forgot to tell you his name before.”

“How’s the foal?” Joshua asked, coiling the dog leash in his hand.

“She’s a filly. She’s all legs.”

“Sorta like you, sweetie.” Darcy hugged Sean to her, rubbing his head. “He’s going through another one of his growth spurts.”

“Aw, Mom.” He squirmed from her embrace, a red tint to his cheeks that made his freckles stand out. “Do you wanna see the filly? You can pet her.”

“I wish I could, but I have to finish my job first. Can I take a rain check on that offer?” Joshua tossed the leash into the truck.

“Sure. Just let me know. I know Grandpa won’t mind.”

“Speaking of Grandpa, did you finish mucking out those stalls you promised him you would do each day?”

Sean dropped his head, his chin on his chest.

“Just as I suspected, young man. You know he’ll ask you about that when he gets up from his nap.”

“I’ve got one done.” Sean began to run toward the broodmare barn, came to a stop and glanced back at Joshua. “Don’t forget about the filly.”

“I won’t. I’ll be back out here later. Maybe you can show me then.”

Beaming, Sean shouted, “Yes,” and continued toward the far barn.

“Thank you.”

Joshua’s eyebrows rose. “For what?”

“For taking some time out of your busy schedule to see the filly.” For not rejecting my son’s interest, she added silently, thinking about all the times her husband had dismissed Sean’s enthusiasm, never having any time for him.

“I’m not that busy that I can’t take a little time to see an animal.”

The smile that accompanied his words melted defenses that she had erected over the years. “I must warn you, if you allow him Sean will whittle his way into your life.”

“I know several nice boys his age that go to my church. I would be glad to introduce him to them.”

“I’m sure he’d like that. He’s always in the thick of things back home.”

“I understand that your father used to go to my church. From what I hear he was quite active at one time. His attendance has been spotty these past few years.”

“Don’t you mean nonexistent?”

Joshua kneaded the back of his neck. “Well, now that you put it that way, yes. He hasn’t been in quite some time.”

“More than likely thirteen or fourteen years.”

“Maybe this Sunday you can get your father to attend again.”

“No one can get him to do anything he doesn’t want to.”

“I understand.” He grinned. “I need to go. I’ll be back later.” Joshua walked around the front of his truck and got in.

As the red pickup drove away, Darcy turned toward the burned barn. Yellow tape marked off the area, preserving the charred structure for Joshua’s investigation. Scanning the pile of rubble, she couldn’t imagine any evidence being left. The fire had consumed most of the barn with nothing untouched by its flames. They would have to raze the building and start over—much as she had after Clay’s death.

“That must be Joshua Markham.” Darcy rose from the couch when she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle.

Sean hopped up. “I’ll get it.”

Her father watched him race from the room. “Where does he get all that energy? I could use some.”