Standoff At Christmas. Margaret Daley

to take the chance.” Then he started for the car in the bay area in the back.

      He pushed his SUV as much as he could without ending up in a ditch. The unsettled feeling in his gut wouldn’t go away. In fact, it grew stronger the closer he got to Betty’s house.

      His heartbeat kicked up several notches when he spied a plume of smoke billowing in the cloudy sky in the direction where he was heading. He pressed down the accelerator.

      * * *

      “Aunt Linda,” Rachel screamed over the crackling of the fire as she raced back to the second bedroom. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

      Her aunt rushed out of the darkroom, her eyes round like the full moon a few nights ago. “Why?”

      “The living room is on fire.”

      Aunt Linda hurried past Rachel, and when she reached the end of the hallway, smoke invaded the corridor. Putting her hand over her mouth, her aunt stopped and peered into the living room, a thick gray cloud filling the whole area.

      “We can’t get out the front door,” Rachel said as the fire consumed that part of the house. She swiveled her attention toward the kitchen and noticed smoke mushrooming through the doorway. Grabbing her aunt’s arm, she tugged her away. “We can’t get out that way, either. We’ll climb out a window.” But when she hastened into the first bedroom, her gaze fixed on the high windows that allowed sunlight inside but would be hard to climb out of.

      “There’s a bigger one in the bathroom. The other bedroom is just like this—a set of high, narrow windows.” Aunt Linda pivoted and raced to the bathroom.

      When Rachel rushed inside behind her, she nearly ran into her aunt, who stood still in front of the frosted pane. “It’s smaller than I thought, and the glass is thicker than normal.”

      Aunt Linda whirled around, looking for anything to break the window. Nothing. Rachel hurried back to Betty’s bedroom to find something while her aunt checked the second one. In the midst of the clutter on the floor, Rachel didn’t see anything that would break the glass.

      Smoke snaked into the room. Rachel pulled her turtleneck over her mouth and continued her search. Her gaze fell on a metal flashlight that might work. She had to try it. She snatched it up and raced back to the bathroom. After putting the toilet seat down, she climbed on top of it and swung the flashlight toward the thick, frosted glass. It bounced off, not even cracking the window.

      * * *

      Jake pulled into the long driveway to Betty’s house, spying Rachel’s Jeep. Flames mixed with blackened smoke shot up from the roof of the cabin. He pulled out his cell phone and prayed he had reception. A dead zone. His throat tightened with the thought of what Rachel and Linda must be going through—if they were even still alive. The idea of not seeing Rachel again stole his breath.

      That’s not going to happen if I can help it.

      He slammed his SUV into park and jumped from it. The front door blazed as fire ate at the wood around it. He raced to the side of the house, then the back entrance. The same sight greeted him as though someone started the fire at the points of entry. He hurried to the left where the bedrooms were. When his gaze latched on to the long, slender windows at the top of the bedroom, the thundering of his heartbeat vied with the roar of the fire. Then he remembered the other bedroom was the same.

      He moved toward the bathroom, trying to imagine what the window was like. Frosted and thick, but he could see movement behind the pane. Someone was still alive. It would be hard, but he thought both Rachel and Linda could fit through the opening.

      He swept around, trying to find something to break the glass with. He ran to the shed and found a sledgehammer in the tool closet. When he hurried back to the house, he stood near and shouted, “Get back. I’m going to break the glass.”

      He lifted the sledgehammer onto his shoulder, praying that whoever was in the bathroom had moved back, but he had no choice. Getting cut was better than dying in a fire. He swung the tool toward the window with all the strength he could muster.

      * * *

      Rachel had tried several more times with the flashlight, then discarded it. Needing something else she climbed down from the toilet. Fingers of smoke crept into the room.

      Coughing, her aunt scurried into the bathroom with a shotgun and gave it to Rachel. Then Aunt Linda closed the door and stuffed some towels under it. “We don’t have much time. Maybe we could use the gun like a bat or shoot at the glass.”

      Rachel checked to see if the weapon was loaded. “If shooting doesn’t work, we can try the other way.” She lifted the shotgun and aimed. Her ears pounded with the beating of her heart. With the noise of the crackling fire coming down the hallway, she put her finger on the trigger.

      “Wait. Listen.” Aunt Linda grabbed Rachel’s arm. “That sounds like Jake.”

      Something slammed into the window. Her aunt shoved her into the bathtub as the glass exploded into the room. The backs of her legs hit the edge of the tub, and Rachel tumbled backward, her aunt following her. A few shards pierced Rachel’s arm as she put it up to block her face. Her body crashed against the hard white acrylic, knocking the breath from her.

      “Rachel. Linda,” Jake shouted as he appeared in the smashed window.

      Aunt Linda rolled off Rachel and replied, “We’re okay.”

      With a sledgehammer, Jake began knocking the rest of the glass out of the frame. “Grab some towels to lay on the ledge. You need to hurry. The fire is working its way to this side.”

      Her aunt scrambled from the bathtub and held her hand out for Rachel to take. Still trying to catch a decent breath, she gripped her aunt’s hand and let her haul her to her feet. Aunt Linda helped her out of the tub and removed the towels from under the door. Smoke poured into the room from every crack around the door seal. It tickled Rachel’s throat, and she coughed. She pulled her turtleneck over her month again, but the smoke stung her watering eyes.

      “Ready?” Jake took the towels that Aunt Linda gave him and placed them on the ledge. “I’ll help you from this side.”

      “You go first.” Rachel helped her aunt up onto the closed toilet seat. She couldn’t lose her other aunt. Please, Lord.

      The cuts on Rachel’s arms hurt, and blood dripped onto the tile floor. She took a washcloth to help stem the flow while Aunt Linda leaned into the window. Rachel helped her out the hole. Her aunt was petite, and she barely made it.

      A loud boom shook the house. Rachel glanced back at the door.

      “Hurry, Rachel. The fire is spreading over the roof.” Urgency filled Jake’s voice.

      The sound of his voice calmed the fear rising in her even as she climbed onto her perch, leaped to the window and grabbed Jake’s hands to hold tight. Her legs dangled in midair in the bathroom. She wriggled her body, trying to move forward, while Jake pulled her toward him. Her side rubbed against the frame, and something sharp scraped her.

      She groaned.

      “Okay?”

      “There must be some glass on my right, but don’t stop.”

      “Sorry, I thought I got all the glass out of the frame.”

      “Pull harder. My shoulders are barely through, but my hips are bigger.”

      “Scoot as much to the left as you can. I’ll find something to put between you and the frame on the right.”

      Another crash sounded behind her. Time was running out.

      Rachel managed to shift a tad bit while Jake said, “I’ll be right back. I remember a piece of flashing in the shed.” Jake raced toward the small building.

      Without Jake to block the wind, it bombarded Rachel with cold and the scent of smoke and burning wood. Coughs racked her while Jake rushed back. He took the flashing and