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As the firefighters lifted Sam up and overturned the rubble, Magdalene’s eyes caught the glimpse of the crushed Vacheron disappearing under the smoldering redwood and she closed her eyes. Despite the bloody wrist, the torn up knuckles and burned fingertips, Magdalene felt lighter, her shoulders free of the weight of the thirty-year-old handcuff. The sight of Sam’s chest rising and falling as she was carried out of the building that was collapsing in on itself behind them, was something to hold on to, as was Willoughby now purring in her arms as she slowly crossed the old, worn-out threshold of the Main Hall for the last time.

26

OF SINGED FINGERS & MAJESTIC SUNRISES

There were times when men had their uses. And then there were times when men were just… there.

As Magdalene made her way out of the crumbling ruins—the Main Hall now completely engulfed by flames, Willoughby in her grip—she hurried after the stretcher carrying Sam to the clearing on the far side of the grounds, close to where the cliffs opened up towards the ocean to wait for the arrival of the town doctor. The firefighter who looked like he at least had the basic idea of what he was doing gave Sam a thorough once-over, checking her vitals and nodded at Magdalene before leaving them alone. As she dropped to her knees by Sam, a familiar figure ran up to her, limping.

Stanton Alden’s face was just as ashen as his eyes, and those were leaking moisture that Magdalene suspected had nothing to do with the sting of the smoke surrounding them.

“Nox, I asked for one goddamn thing! I demanded that you keep her safe!”

Magdalene bit her lip and didn’t even try to pretend her own tears were from the grime of the fire. She hadn’t kept Sam safe. And if she had harbored any doubts about her earlier conclusions regarding the relationship between Alden and Sam, his glaring indifference towards the ruin before him and his sole concern for the woman who was clearly more to him than a teacher at a school he cared nothing about, would have certainly shattered any such uncertainty.

She ignored him and his labored breathing and kept watching the still-unconscious Sam on the ground. The frenzy of her pursuit of Sam and her desperation to dig her out of the rubble were replaced with concern about her well-being, the bloody and ragged wound just below her temple, closer to the cheekbone, tearing at Magdalene’s heart.

Still, Sam was breathing deeply and steadily, and the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, heart beating strong, fluttering as butterfly wings under the skin of her neck, were all calming Magdalene’s anxiety for her lover.

She had enough presence of mind to set the cat down by the stretcher, and he, perhaps sensing the gravity of the situation and already having proven his protectiveness of Sam, cuddled up to her side and hissed at Alden who had finally reached them, groaning his way up the uneven ground on unsteady legs.

Magdalene reached for Sam’s face, her wounded hands smearing blood on the sooty forehead. She knew she was making a bigger mess, but she couldn’t stop touching Sam. The warm skin under her fingertips reassured her Sam lived, and the image of her being buried under the stone and timber would hopefully someday be erased from Magdalene’s mind.

Next to her, Alden extended his fingers, but one look from Magdalene stopped him dead in his tracks. Nobody would touch Sam without consent or permission. He balled his hands in his lap and sat there by her side, tears falling down his thin face.

“I left her…” He hiccuped and did not make any endeavor to wipe his tear-stained cheeks. “I left her as a baby on the steps of the chapel. Running for office and my Edward had just been born. And I couldn’t take her…” He actually wailed and Magdalene wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Stanton, where is Franz?”

As much as she wanted to put faith in the firefighters giving them the thumbs up before they departed, Magdalene desperately wished the doctor was here already. Franz wasn’t a good man, far from it, but he was a damn good physician when all was said and done.

And shereallydidn’t have any desire to hear Alden’s foolish confessions. He should focus on important things, like maybe getting Sam a boat if Franz deemed that she needed to be transported urgently to the mainland.

Instead, he was a complete mess and on his way to make an even bigger one. Absolution would not come from her, and if she knew anything about Sam, there would be none, anyway. She wouldn’t blame her lover. Stanton was an utterly useless man. As his face contorted into yet another sob, Magdalene noted absently that he was an ugly crier. Suited him. He was a lot of ugly things. Thankfully, Sam was nothing like him. Nothing at all.

She was about to tell him to cut out the pointless self-flagellation, that it was thirty years too late, when Sam’s lips trembled and her body tensed, throat working up and down, struggling to swallow, followed by a coughing fit. Magdalene was up in a split-second, placing Sam on her side, trying to ease her discomfort and make sure she didn’t choke.

Once Sam’s cough subsided, Magdalene could finally make out the word that Sam kept repeating and the tears she had tried to hide sprung up again.

Sam was calling her name. She could barely speak. She had almost died and here she was, calling for her. Magdalene swallowed around the lump in her throat and placed her hand back on Sam’s forehead.

“Shhh, darling, you’re okay. I’m right here. I’m here.”

Sam’s eyes fluttered open and Magdalene wanted to sob out loud. So much love was contained in that gray light once they focused on her. A trickle of blood ran down Sam’s cheek, and she lifted a hand in an attempt to wipe at it, clearly deciding that it was Magdalene who was injured, her gaze full of concern and fear.

“I’m fine, it’s your blood. A part of the staircase collapsed, Sam.” Magdalene’s head bobbed, and a sob escaped after all. “I couldn’t get to you, I had Lily and Amanda, and the splintered wood from that massive banister was so heavy and I couldn’t get to you…”

She hiccuped and gulped noisily, trying but failing to suppress another sob.

“Plus, my cat was in there, so clearly I had to get the animal.”

“Oh, now he’s not a stray anymore, but your cat?” Sam’s voice was hoarse, impacted by smoke inhalation. Magdalene looked around to see where Franz was and what was taking him so long. She would tear him to shreds the moment he got here.

When she turned back to Sam, she blinked away the tears at the love still staring up at her, and gentled her voice once again.

“He’s nothing but trouble, but he led us out of that hallway, so he’s the one man in this life who has a claim on my heart. Don’t worry, it’s your blood, you reckless creature.”

As Joanne approached and chatted on and off, distracting Sam from the pain she must be feeling, Sam drifted off, and Magdalene finally wiped away her tears.