Samuel’s feet pounded against the road as sweat prickled at his nape and slid between his shoulders despite the chill of November.

He would find that girl.

By the time he reached the Halverson Hotel, both his anger and his lungs burned. He barreled past the doorman without so much as a cursory greeting and slapped his hand on the receiving desk. “Which room is occupied by the Misses Mapleton and Avery?”

The clerk, a spindly fellow with a sallow complexion, lifted his eyes from the desk. “And you are?”

“Mr. Samuel Flynn, friend and employer of Miss Mapleton.”

He pushed his spectacles up on his pointy nose. “Hmm. And are the ladies expecting you?”

The way the fellow eyed him with suspicion made Samuel aware of his state of disarray. He squared his shoulders. “Sir, I’m a training physician at the Washington Infirmary. Both young ladies work as volunteers there, and it is urgent I speak to Miss Avery.”

The man bobbed his head. “Oh, yes, sir. I’ve heard them speak of their work there.” He ran his finger down the ledger. “Ah, room sixteen…”

He’d but spouted the room number before Samuel spun away and took the stairs two at a time. A brass knocker with an engraved number decorated the door, but Samuel opted to pound his fist on it instead. “Miss Avery!”

No reply. Clenching his teeth, Samuel pounded harder. Two doors down, a woman opened her door and peeked out, her wide eyes telling him he best soften his ways or the frightened girl would never open the door.

“Please, Miss Avery. It is of great importance.” His words strained. “They have taken my little girl, and I must get her back.”

No response.

He slammed his hand against the door and hurried back down the stairs to the reception desk. “Is Miss Avery here?”

The clerk sniffed. “You ran off before I had the chance to say so earlier. She and Miss Mapleton left early this morning.”

He clenched his hands. The man might have led with that information. He dipped his chin. “My apologies. If you see her, would you kindly ask that she call upon my place of residence?”

“Certainly, sir,” the clerk said dryly, handing Samuel a pencil and pad.

Samuel scribbled the address and returned the pad, then ducked back out the door. Where would he find her now? The hotel and the hospital were the only locations he knew.

Except for the Greenman residence, but why would she go there? He hesitated on the street, willing his mind to slow and put together the pieces. Evelyn had gone with Miss Avery to the prison. Something had happened with the widow Greenman, and Evelyn had come to his house. For what? Help?

Guilt scurried across his nerves, but he pushed it aside. There would be time for explanation and forgiveness later. Evelyn had left his house and gone to the hospital, claiming to be looking for Alice. But why would Miss Avery be at the hospital? If Mrs. Greenman was a spy, and Alice had plans as Evelyn claimed, then why…?

The realization exploded upon his senses, and he bolted down the street. Startled pedestrians scrambled out of his way, and he called apology as he sprinted past. How could he have been such a dimwit? He’d allowed two women of questionable loyalty to care for Confederate soldiers, knowing they had been in contact with a woman arrested for spying and treason.

He sucked a lungful of air, the usual putrid scents of the city grazing across his senses. He’d grown used to them—the press of people, the waste of livestock, the hints of smoke in the air as it wafted from chimneys. All of it common enough to ignore.

Something seemed different, but in light of the circumstances it hardly mattered. He kept running. But the farther he made it down Fourth Street, the more the scent of burning wood and smoke thickened the air. He coughed, not remembering when the chimneys had seemed this strong.

A niggling fear erupted. Something must be on fire.

As though in answer to his thoughts, the fervent toll of a bell sounded behind him, accompanied by the pounding of hooves. He didn’t need to glance over his shoulder to know the fire engine would soon pass him. It hurtled down the cobblestones, men shouting as the conveyance made a hard turn. His spine tingled. They were heading the same direction as he.

As Samuel rounded the corner onto East Street, his fear blossomed into panic.

No!

Flames licked the walls of the infirmary, sprouting out of the windows like hellish fiends. The fire wagon jerked to a halt, and men leapt out, shouting directions. They operated the pump, but Samuel knew it would not be enough. Though already at a full run, he forced his legs to move faster.

Nurses and patients littered the street as people shouted in panic. Sick and wounded men were propped against neighboring buildings and trees, and those who could maneuver themselves did their best to help the others. Dr. Porter shouted orders, and his words broke through the clamor.

“That’s the last of them!” he called to the firemen.

Samuel pushed through the crowd, ignoring the fingers that clung to his coat. Nurses called his name, but his mind had singled in on only one thought. Where was she? Surely someone had let her out. His heart constricted as he spun around, frantically scanning every face. But his Wildwood Queen was nowhere to be seen.

Disregarding the shouts of both the firefighters and hospital staff, he charged into the building, the heat hitting him like a furnace. Air smothered in smoke burned paths down his nose and throat.

Evelyn!

Hades engulfed the ward, gobbling up beds and smearing ash across the walls. Samuel leapt over a heap of blankets that had succumb to the flames and headed for the door at the back of the ward. Fire scurried along the walls, and a curtain of heat shot out of the entrance to the back hall. He held his breath and jumped, praying he would not land in flames on the other side of the smoke darkened doorway.

Pain seared through his arm, and his shirt caught flame. He beat against it with his palm as he sprinted down the hall to the supply closet.

The key!

Samuel thrust his hand into his pocket. “Evelyn! I’m coming!” Where was that key? His fingers fumbled, grasping in panic, until he finally wrapped them around the tiny shard of metal. He grabbed the doorknob, pain rushing up his hand. He released it with a shout. The metal had grown too hot! He plunged the key into the lock and turned it, using it to push the door in.

“Evelyn!”

Smoke billowed into the small room from behind him as though it had been waiting for him to give it entrance.

Thank you, God.

The flames had not reached the room, and only the smoke that had managed to work its way under the door tainted the air prior to his entrance. But where was Evelyn?

A shadow shifted, and he lunged forward, finding her in a heap on the floor. “Evelyn!”

She groaned as he turned her over, her beautiful face red and smeared with sweat. He drew her up against his chest and buried his face in her hair.

“My love, forgive me.”

He gathered her in his arms and pushed to his feet. Her head lolled back over his arm. Her breath wheezed, and was far too shallow. How long had she inhaled the smoke?

Samuel coughed and ran down the hall. The fire had now wrapped through the doorway from the ward and plumed along the ceiling, a great mass of red and orange.

He would not get through the ward the way he had come.

He spun the other way, running past the room where they had kept the Confederate soldiers. He nearly left them to their fate, but his conscious would not allow it. Sending up a prayer for help, he stuck his head through the door.

Empty.

He whirled back around, heading for the rear door of the hospital. With a thrust of his foot, Samuel kicked the door open, and a wave of air sweeter and cooler than any he had ever breathed washed over him.

Evelyn stirred in his arms, groaning.

He pressed a kiss to her saturated hair. “Stay with me, darling.”

Evelyn turned her face against his chest as he ran down the steps and into the cool of the gathering dusk. Shouts drew his attention, and there, in the flickering light of the flames, stood a small woman with wild hair. She was flanked by two men.

She froze, staring at Samuel. Then she waved her arms wildly at the men. “Go!”

The men bolted, one in each direction. The woman hesitated, giving him time to register her shadowed features. Alice. Then she spun around and darted after one of the men. Rage burned in his chest. He could not leave Evelyn to chase her, but he was loathe to let her escape.

Evelyn coughed, rough and ragged, against him. Narrowing his eyes, he watched the traitors disappear. He would have to get Evelyn to safety. His mind now numbed to the panic, his feet found the familiar path back home seemingly of their own accord. Never had he been so glad to see the small townhome draped in evening’s shadows.

“Open the door.” he rasped as he neared. “Mrs. Tooley!” Samuel coughed and tried again. “Open.”

He tromped up the steps, Evelyn’s weight leaden in his arms. He rammed his shoulder into the door, and pain scorched up his arm. “Mrs. Tooley!”

The door flung open, and Samuel stumbled inside.

Mother gasped. “Oh! Heavens. What’s happened?”

“Get Father.” Samuel staggered into the parlor, past the detective he’d tied to the chair by the mantel, and gently lowered Evelyn to the settee.

He pushed the hair back from her face and lowered his head to listen to the ragged draw of her breath. “Forgive me,” he whispered.

“It seems you found a way to capture the trollop after all.” The detective’s snide voice scraped jagged nails down his frayed nerves, and Samuel whirled on him.

The fellow’s eyes widened, and he tried to scoot back in his chair. “Oh, now…wait!”

Arms wrapped around Samuel’s middle and jerked him back before he could find the satisfaction of splintering the man’s nose.

“Samuel. The patient.” His father’s voice crashed through his rage, and he paused long enough to regain his senses.

“We tried to question him,” Father said. “He wouldn’t give Emily’s location, but insists she is well.” He gripped Samuel’s shoulder. “Let’s first tend the patient.” Father swung his gaze to the detective, fire glinting in his blue eyes. “Then I’ll clean up whatever mess you make of this one’s face.”

Samuel gave a curt nod.

Father released him and dropped to Evelyn’s side. “What are the injuries?”

“Fire.” Samuel knelt next to her. “She was trapped inside. I think she breathed too much smoke.”

Dr. Flynn, the best physician Samuel could hope for to attend to Evelyn, had, by God’s grace, arrived with Mother this day, which had been the only reason he’d been home when Emily had been taken. Father gave him a reassuring smile and then tilted Evelyn’s head back to further open her airways. “Do you know how long she was in there?”

“Too long.” His chest constricted, and he gripped the collar of his shirt as though he could dispel the guilt that lodged there.

Father checked over her, noting a burn on her palm that matched the one on Samuel’s own. He clenched his jaw. She must have tried to break out. How panicked she must have been.

“The burn is not severe and should heal fine with a little salve.” Father pushed her damp hair off her face and put his fingers on the pulse under her neck. “She seems otherwise uninjured. I suggest she receive plenty of rest and fresh air.” Father rose and turned to Samuel. “As for you, I shall need to see to your arm.”

Samuel shook his head. “It can wait.”

Father seemed dubious, but stepped back. He put his hands in the pockets of his wool trousers, his expressive eyes assessing Samuel with customary calm.

Mother, however, could not be contained. “Samuel! You must have your father see to that. Why, it looks right awful!”

He made a low noise in his throat that silenced her, and he turned toward the captive detective. “I have come from the Washington Infirmary, where I saw Miss Alice Avery aid two Confederate soldiers escape the fire. There was a third, but I didn’t see him with her. Were I to guess, I would say that fire wasn’t an accident. It would seem to me Miss Avery is the lady you’d wish to question. Not this one.”

His hawkish face twisted. “You are sure of this?”

Samuel took a step closer and flung his arm at Evelyn. “Evelyn also informed me she was coerced into going to the prison today, where she was then used as a distraction for something Miss Avery and Mrs. Greenman planned. After being searched, she went looking for help. That’s why you saw her here.”

The detective glanced back at Evelyn, his features conflicted.

“As you can see,” Samuel continued, “the lady has suffered from breathing smoke, and I myself have a wound from the fire. Do you think I would inflict such injuries merely to deceive you?”

The man’s features softened, and…was that a slight pang of regret that crossed his face? “No, I can see you are not the type of man to do so.” The detective’s shoulders lifted with a long inhalation. “I fear this plan has gone terribly awry. I intended to intercept Miss Mapleton and question her. Then we saw the child talking to her, and my subordinate, well, he is an impulsive fellow.”

The muscles in Samuel’s jaw twitched.

“I’m Detective Fredrick Mallow, by the way. I’m sure you’ll want to speak to my superiors.”

“Undoubtedly,” Father said. He smoothed the thinning hair on the top of his head, then took hold of Mother’s hand.

Detective Mallow cleared his throat. “Anyway, he took the girl to question her about what she might know.”

“That’s asinine!”

“I fear I must agree with you. I was rather surprised myself and had to leave my position to go after him. Unfortunately, that put me in your path instead. In that moment, I decided to mislead you. I thought I could get enough distance to come up with a plan.” He nodded to the rope around his wrists. “That didn’t go well.”

Samuel glared at him.

“But, please, believe I had no intention of the situation coming to this. In the brief exchange I shared with my associate, I improvised and told him to take her away, but not far. I merely thought we could use the threat to get information that has thus far been exceedingly frustrating to obtain.”

Father snorted. “What sort of immoral man takes a child for his own purposes?” Mother clung to him, her rounded form in sharp contrast to Father’s lean one.

Samuel stepped closer to his captive, his words coming out in clipped measure and tainted with the unrestraint that would usually be unbefitting a physician. “Where. Is. Emily?”

The fellow darted his gaze from Father to Samuel and then to Evelyn draped across the settee. “He took her to the eatery around the corner. He is not to go any other place without my say.”

As though such a statement were adequate assurance! With one last glance at Evelyn, Samuel bolted out the door. There could be only one eatery the man referred to, and he wasted no time reaching it and barreling inside.

At this hour, patrons filled the tables, and their chatter clamored over his ears.

There!

Against the wall, his little Emily sat perched on her chair, primly eating a bowl of ice cream. Across from her, a young man of no more than seventeen years wore a rather perplexed expression. Samuel wove through the crowd, trying to contain his emotions lest they scare her.

Emily grinned. “Hey!”

Relief surged through him as thick as molasses, and he dropped to one knee. Emily scrambled down and launched herself into his arms.

“Are you all right, little one?”

Emily nodded and then frowned at the young detective. “This strange man made me come here and asked me lots of funny questions. I was mad about it at first, ‘cause I wanted to see Miss Evelyn.” She lifted her shoulders. “But he gave me lots of ice cream, too, so I guess I don’t mind too much.” She scrunched her little face. “Mrs. Tooley don’t let me have many sweets.”

He’d never heard Emily string together that many words at once in all the time he’d known her. He shifted his gaze to the nervous young detective. The fellow fiddled with his cravat and rose from his place.

Samuel stood with his daughter safely in his arms. “Do not think to leave so easily,” he said with a growl.

The young man paled.

Emily giggled. “Oh, Papa, don’t be cross at him. He didn’t mean to frighten me. He said so. And he did seem right sorry about it.” She gave the fellow a little wave. “And thank you for my ice cream.”

The boy bobbed his head. “Please, sir. I meant no harm.”

Had Emily called him Papa? The shock of it melted some of his fury. He pointed a finger at the boy. “This matter is not settled. I will be certain your superiors and the law are made aware of what occurred today. And you should expect word from my family’s solicitor.”

The fellow squeaked a reply and bolted out the door. Samuel watched him go and hugged Emily. “I was sorely worried about you.”

She smiled sweetly and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Papa.”

His heart constricted. He’d not mistaken. “For what? I lost you, and it took me a long time to find you. I don’t think that makes me a very good guardian…or father.”

Emily wrapped her arm around his neck as they made their way back through the restaurant. “But you came looking for me and got me back. You didn’t forget me or leave me. That makes you the best Papa.”

The back of his throat constricted, and he didn’t trust himself to speak.

“Did you find Miss Evelyn? She was outside with me.” Emily frowned. “Did they take her for ice cream, too?”

Samuel stepped out into the cool night air and turned toward home. “I did find her.” He measured his words carefully. “She’s a little hurt, but will be fine with rest.”

“That’s good. I like her.”

Samuel couldn’t help but chuckle. “I do, too.”

Emily’s giggle felt like a balm to his raw nerves. “I told Benjamin she should be our new Mama.”

His heart skittered. “You think so?”

She bobbed her little head emphatically and snuggled closer in his arms. “Of course. She’s perfect.”

Samuel mounted the steps to the house, realizing nearly everyone he loved was encased inside. “Do you think Benjamin will agree?”

“Sure. He likes her too. He just don’t want to admit it.”

He chuckled and opened the door. “Then I guess that only leaves one person to ask.”