Page 71 of Taming Lady Temperance

Mr. Freeman glared at her, but Noreen held his gaze without flinching.

“Fine. But stay well away from the building. I don’t want any injured women on my conscience.” He waved at Connor. “Go with her, Reed.” He shot another glare at Noreen as he started working the pump again. “He’s in charge. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Now was not the time to argue about a woman’s capability. If having a man at least five years her junior taking charge allowed her to help James and the rest of the town, she’d accept those terms.

Spotting Mrs. Winslow among the women spectating in front of the carpentry shop, Noreen hurried over to her. “We’re going to bring water from the hotel cistern to protect the rear of the saloon. Connor and a few of the boys will help with wet blankets, but if we can dampen the back of the building, we can keep the fire from spreading.”

Mrs. Winslow gave a sharp nod. “I’ll get some of the maids to help and pull extra ice buckets from the pantry. They’re a little smaller and will be easier to carry.”

Martha came up alongside Noreen and held up the bucket and empty coal scuttle she carried. “I’ve got a couple vessels we can use as well.”

“Wonderful.” Noreen smiled at Martha, then turned to the other ladies relegated to the role of spectator. “Anyone who wishes to help will be welcome. Those who wish to stay here can spread the word to others who come later.”

Noreen didn’t wait to count volunteers, she just headed off to the hotel, dropped her bucket by the cistern, and started working the hand pump.

“Here.” Connor Reed shooed her away from the pump. “I’ll fill the buckets, you set up the line.”

“I don’t know that we’ll have enough to stretch all the way to the saloon from here.” She met Connor’s gaze. He looked about as confident as she felt, which was not at all, but somehow it helped having an ally.

“Just space ’em out at first,” he said, “then when more people come, they’ll fill in the gaps.” He shrugged. “That’s what Mr. Freeman did, at least.”

As sound a plan as any, she supposed. Noreen surrendered the pump to Connor’s greater strength and turned to survey her troops. More than she’d expected. At least fifteen women stood nearby awaiting instructions. And Mrs. Winslow would bring more from the hotel.

“All right, ladies. Leave your buckets here at the cistern, then follow me to form a line to the saloon. We’ll likely have to cart the water between each checkpoint, but we’ll get it there. That’s what matters.”

“Ain’t no differ’nt than totin’ water on wash day,” one woman called from the back.

“Or carryin’ a mop bucket from room to room.”

Noreen’s chest expanded. “Exactly right. We’re more than capable of stopping that fire in its tracks.” She turned to Martha. “Will you oversee things on this end while I take a group down toward the saloon?”

Martha nodded. “Of course.”

Purpose vibrated in Noreen’s veins as she waved to her crew. “Let’s get to work, ladies!”

They had the line in place in mere minutes and buckets passing soon after. Connor left his position at the pump to take charge of the water toss at the end of the line, insisting Noreen stay a good ten feet away from the saloon’s back door. A pile of crates filled with liquor bottles, a handful of chairs, two framed pieces of questionable art, and a lockbox of some kind sat in a heap at the edge of the field. No doubt Mr. Taggert had attempted to salvage what he could of his inventory and belongings before help arrived.

The two teen boys they’d recruited darted through the field, squelching small fires and stomping on embers before they had the chance to ignite. They’d not be able to stay ahead for long if the fire spread to the exterior or the roof.

“We have to keep the blaze contained,” she shouted to Connor over the snapping and crackling that filled the air. “We should focus the water on the building, not the field. At least for now. Do you agree?”

He nodded, and his first bucketful splashed over the doorframe of the rear exit. They worked in tandem without words after that. She fed him bucket after bucket, trading empty for full until her arms ached from the strain. Connor grew braver with each toss, venturing up to the open doorway and tossing the water inside. Flames drew back with a steamy hiss, but like a relentless army, they returned to encroach from another side.

Noreen pulled her handkerchief from her skirt pocket and dunked it in her bucket before striding forward to meet Connor. “Here,” she said. “Tie this around your face. It will help with the smoke.”

“Thanks.” He knotted the corners behind his neck, then pulled the fabric up over his nose. He reached for the bucket.

She relinquished it but placed her hand on his arm. “Don’t go too far inside, Connor. It’s dangerous.”

His face took on a mulish cast that didn’t bode well. “I can hear the others when I’m in the storeroom, ma’am. On the other side of the wall. We’re close to puttin’ this monster down. The dogie’s in the chute, and I ain’t gonna let him squeeze past me.”

He pulled away and headed back into the fight. Knowing she couldn’t stop him, Noreen did the only thing she could to help—hurried back to the line to collect the next bucket.

Before she made it back to her designated handoff point, though, the deep groan of weakening lumber echoed through the night.

Her gaze locked onto the doorway, but she saw no evidence of Connor. Her stomach spasmed.