Kitabı oku: «Cowboy Sanctuary», sayfa 3

The light died in her eyes and her lips thinned into a straight line. “Tell me about it.”

Molly returned with a glass of water and they sat on the brown leather chairs around the stone fireplace. For the next twenty minutes Cameron told them what he’d told the Wards.

“Wow. It’s all kinda scary. Do you really think we’re in danger?” Molly asked, a frown mixing the freckles on her brow.

Cameron nodded, his gaze focused on his mother’s worried, dust-streaked face. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I know you wouldn’t have come out to tell us if you didn’t mean it.” His mother patted his hand. “I’m just sorry it has to be bad news that brings you out.” She sighed. “Now, all we have to do is convince the men. I’m going to clean up for dinner. Your father will be in at any moment. Logan’s probably clued him in that you’re here.”

As soon as his mother left the room, Molly pounced on him with questions of her own. “How was Jennie? I haven’t seen her in so long. Are you two going to start seeing each other again? I think this whole feud mess is just stupid and we should tell Dad to just get over it.”

“Tell Dad to get over what?” The deep, rich timbre of Tom Morgan’s voice filled the room all the way to the exposed rough-hewn timbers in the cathedral ceiling.

Cameron rose from the chair and almost laughed out loud at his sister.

Molly’s eyes widened and she gulped. She stood and hooked Cameron’s arm, turning him to face his father. “Dad, look who’s here.”

His father dipped his head. “Son.” No hug, no smile. Just one word and it was as cold as a blue norther screaming down off the slopes. What did it take to melt the mountain of ice around his father’s heart? Would he ever forgive him for making his own choices and meet him halfway?

“Hi, Dad.” Not for the first time, Cameron regretted the loss of the closeness they’d shared in his teens. Cameron had never understood the rift between Tom Morgan and Hank Ward, and his father hadn’t bothered to enlighten him. The feud resulting from the rift had been the major reason he’d left everything he loved behind—the Bar M Ranch, his family and Jennie.

Logan entered behind his father and stood beside him.

“What brings you out of the big city?” His father slapped his hat against his thigh, a thin cloud of dust rising from the denim.

Cameron knew better than to sugarcoat anything for his father. “Trouble.”

Logan snorted. “Figures.”

“What kind of trouble?” his father asked.

“I think someone might be out to hurt either the Morgans or the Wards. Maybe both. I just came over from the Flying W. Someone took a shot at Hank Ward.”

“Good, the old man probably deserves it,” Logan said.

But his father didn’t respond immediately. His jaw tightened and his brown eyes burned. “You went to the Flying W instead of telling your own family first?”

He should have expected his father to react that way. Nevertheless the older man’s words rubbed Cameron wrong. Jennie had been his sweetheart, his first love.

Tom Morgan had never reconciled himself to Cameron seeing Jennie and viewed his association as defection to the other side.

Cameron opened his mouth to explain his reasoning and thought better of it. “Yes. I stopped at the Flying W.”

“You always were the black sheep. I never could get it through your head that Morgans and Wards don’t mix.”

Molly blew out a loud sigh and let go of Cameron’s arm. “While you men are conducting your pissing contest, I’ll put fresh sheets on the bed in your old room.”

“Don’t bother, Molly.” Cameron’s gaze met his father’s. “I’ll be staying at the Flying W.”

Chapter Four

Cameron held his breath, maintaining a poker face as his father’s chest filled like an overextended balloon. Instead of the explosive tirade Cameron fully expected, Tom Morgan spun on his booted heel and left the house, the door slamming behind him.

Logan shot an intense glare at Cameron and followed his father out the door, leaving Cameron and the women standing in their wake.

Cameron’s mother expelled a long breath and forced a smile. “Well, that went over well, now didn’t it?” She clapped her hands together. “What can I get you? Do you want to take your saddle? You might need it over there.”

“If you still have it, that would be great.” Cameron crossed the room and stood in front of his mother. “I’m sorry if I’ve made things uncomfortable for you and Molly.”

“And I’m sorry your father is so bullheaded.” She smiled up at him and touched a hand to his cheek. “I’m glad to see you, son. Don’t let your father’s attitude make you think any differently.”

He touched a hand to hers, pressing her cool, dry fingers to his heated skin. “You understand why I have to go to the Flying W, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Molly stepped up beside him. “Me, too.”

“There’s another man from the agency, Jack Sanders, who is due to come out to stay with you and provide you with protection. I told him to give it a day before he came.” He sighed. “See what you can do to convince him.” Cameron jerked his head in the direction his father had gone.

“I will. If nothing else, we’ll keep Jack around the house for Molly and me.”

“Not that you can’t handle a gun or horse better than any man in the county. Of that I have no doubt. But it helps to have another pair of eyes looking out for you, especially while you’re working.”

“Thanks, Cam.” His mother pushed her hair back off her dirty face and smiled. “You better get that saddle and hightail it back to the Ward’s place. Hate to think of Hank being laid up and Jennie fending for herself.”

Cameron turned to go and thought again. “Mom, what happened to make Dad hate Hank Ward so much? No one’s ever bothered to tell us.”

His mother drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s a touchy subject.”

“Considering what’s going on, now might be the time to tell me about it.”

She glanced toward the windows, her face drawn and looking far older than a moment earlier. “I’m not sure I want to dredge up the past. Some things are best left alone. But, let me think about it.” Then she gave him a weak smile.

“Fair enough.” Disappointed, Cameron knew he couldn’t push for the information. He’d planted the seed, now he’d stand back and wait to see if it grew into enough trust that his mother would tell him what he’d always wanted to know.

Molly grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the door. “I’ll help you find the saddle. I’ve reorganized the tack room in the barn. Come on.”

“See you soon?” Cameron waved a hand toward his mother.

She nodded. “Count on it.”

When Molly had him outside, she dropped his arm. “I thought I’d never get you out of the house. Mom doesn’t like to talk about the feud and the Wards. There’s a lot of bad water under that bridge.”

“Why? Do you know anything about it?”

“All I know is that I heard Mom and Dad arguing one night when I was little. I remember hearing Dad shouting something about Hank and Louise and him being wrong about something.”

Cameron planted his heels in the dirt and turned to Molly. “Wrong about what?”

His sister shrugged. “I don’t know. I was too little to understand, I just remembered the names.”

“It would help to know what’s gone on between them to create such a rift they haven’t talked in over thirty years.”

“I’ll dig around and see what I can find out.”

With a crooked finger, Cameron chucked his sister beneath her chin. “In the meantime, watch out for yourself. Never go out alone.”

Her lips twisted. “Give me a break. I can take care of myself.”

He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look him in the eye. “Promise me.” His words weren’t a request.

For a moment, she hesitated, a stubborn frown marring her freckled forehead. Her face softened and she nodded. “Okay, I’ll be careful and never go out on my own. There, does that make you feel better?”

He loosened his grip and let her go. “Yes.”

A blond-haired cowboy Cameron didn’t recognize led a bay gelding out of the barn and stopped to adjust the cinch strap. When he looked up, he swept the straw cowboy hat from his head and smiled. “Hi, Miss Molly.”

Molly’s face transformed from serious to all smiles. “Hi, Brad.” Her cheeks turned an attractive shade of pink and she clutched at Cameron’s arm, dragging him forward. “Cameron, meet Brad Carter. He’s one of the new hands Dad hired a couple weeks ago to help out while Ty’s out of commission. Brad, this is my brother, Cameron.”

Brad held out a hand and shook Cameron’s. “Molly’s told me all about you. Said you were in the army.”

“That’s right.” Cameron’s gaze raked over the man from his crisp blue chambray shirt down to his ostrich skin boots. “You been a ranch hand before?”

Brad laughed. “I did some ranching out in Montana, then tried my hand in Denver real estate. Found out I liked working with animals better than people. It had been a while since I’d been on a horse, but your father gave me the benefit of the doubt. I’ve been here ever since.”

“Don’t let him fool you. He’s great on a horse and good with cattle.”

“You staying in Ty’s quarters?” Cameron asked.

“No, I have a room over Mrs. Green’s garage in Dry Wash.”

Cameron nodded, suspicious of any stranger, but not yet alarmed. “Nice to meet you.”

“If you’ll pardon me. I have a fence to mend out on the south border.” He glanced at the sun angling toward the horizon. “I’d better get going if I want to get back before dark.” Brad swung up into the saddle, tipped his cowboy hat at Molly and touched his heels to the horse’s flanks.

“What happened to Ty?” Cameron and Ty Masters had played football at the same high school and dated some of the same girls. When Cameron left to join the army, his father had hired Ty to shoulder the workload Cameron’s departure left.

“He was thrown by his horse and broke his leg pretty bad. Pretty freak accident. Said his horse stumbled coming down a hill he’d ridden more times that he can remember and never had a problem with before. If Mom hadn’t been out riding, he’d have been there awhile. He’s been laid up for three weeks and has another three to go before he gets out of the cast. Dad thinks it’ll take him another month or so before he’s up to riding. Maybe longer. That’s why he hired Brad.”

Cameron’s brows dipped. “How come I haven’t heard about Ty?”

“Must have slipped my mind during all my finals at school.” She swatted at his arm. “If you’d wanted to know, you could have called Mom for your personal news service. I’m only here on vacation now.”

“I keep forgetting you’re a college student. I still think of you as that gawky girl with the ponytail always following me around.”

“I haven’t been that for a while now.”

“I noticed.” Cameron stared out at the pastures and surrounding hills, speckled with evergreens and aspens. The clean, fresh air lightly scented with the distinctive aroma of spruce filled his lungs. Topped with sparkling blue skies, the scenery tugged at his heart. He’d always loved the ranch, loved working with the animals and probably would have stayed on the way his brother Logan did, had he not fallen in love with the neighbor girl and stirred up a hornets’ nest of hatred.

“So, how’s Jennie?” Molly might as well have been reading his mind.

Her question jolted him back to the present and his purpose for being there. “She’s good.” Beautiful as ever and just as stubborn as he remembered. If not for the dark smudges beneath her eyes, he’d say she hadn’t changed a bit.

Molly hooked her thumbs in her belt loops as she walked. “She’s had a tough time of it.”

“How so?”

“Stuck out on that ranch, not dating. I hope she wises up and gets a life before she’s too old to enjoy it.”

“It’s her choice.”

“Maybe so.” Molly ambled toward the barn, kicking at the gravel with her dingo boots. “From what I understand, she’s pretty bitter about marriage and men in general.”

Despite his resolve to stay out of Jennie’s business, he couldn’t help asking, “Why?”

Molly glanced up at him, her eyes wide. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Gosh, that’s such old news I thought for sure you’d have heard it long before I did. I was only eleven at the time.”

Cameron stopped outside the barn door and grasped Molly’s arms, his patience for guessing at an end. “What are you talking about? Why is Jennie down on men and marriage?”

“Her ex-husband. I thought you knew.”

Cameron knew Jennie had married shortly after he left. Hurt by how quickly she’d got over him, he’d cut ties and moved on with his life in the military.

Molly shook off her brother’s hands. “He abused her. Slapped her around mentally and physically. That’s why she filed for divorce.” Molly’s lips twisted. “The bastard really messed her up. He deserved to die.”

“What do you mean?”

“Vance Franklin died in a car wreck after Jennie filed for divorce.”

Cameron withheld comment, holding back the string of curses he wanted to let loose. How could any man be cruel enough to hit a woman? And to hit Jennie, that was unconscionable. If Vance were still alive, he’d take the man out. He agreed with his sister, the man deserved to die.

Had he only known Jennie was in trouble back then…

He knew she was in trouble now and he’d do everything in his power to keep her safe.

MEN DIDN’T MAKE good patients—especially hardworking ranch owners who didn’t know the meaning of downtime. For most of the afternoon, Jennie helped Ms. Blainey fetch and carry for her cranky father. Unused to being trapped indoors, Hank groused and hollered over every little thing.

By dusk, Jennie was fit to be tied. If she didn’t get out of the house soon, she’d go nuts. The horses needed feed and Lady needed her dressing changed.

Cameron had told her to stay inside until he returned, but the sun tipped toward the horizon and he still wasn’t back. Unwilling to stay indoors a moment longer, she took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. A quick glance around had her laughing at herself. What did she expect? The bogeyman?

Shaking her shoulders loose of the tension building there all day, Jennie strode toward the barn, a trip she’d made a million times since the day she was born. Why should today be any different?

Because someone had taken a potshot at her father? Or because Cameron Morgan might show up at any time? What was she more frightened of? The unknown threat or the known?

Ten years had passed since she’d seen Cameron. The years had hardened him into a man, not the teenager she’d fallen in love with. Had she made a mistake taking him on as a bodyguard? Did she still harbor feelings toward this man?

Jennie jerked open the barn door and entered its dark interior. Stan, Doug and Rudy were out working the fences. They would be back at dark, hungry and tired—too tired to deal with the stabled horses. All the more reason for her to feed, water and apply first aid where needed. When Jennie flipped the light switch, nothing happened.

At first, Jennie thought nothing of it. The wiring was old and occasionally a breaker tripped. The near dark didn’t bother her. She knew the barn like the back of her hand and her eyes were beginning to adjust to the dim interior.

Lady whinnied from her corner stall, the sound high-pitched and accompanied by a hoof slammed against the wooden sides of her stall.

“What’s wrong, girl? Didn’t I get out here soon enough for your liking?” As Jennie made her way through the shadowy barn, she talked to the horse in a soft, reassuring voice. When she reached out to open the large trash can housing the grain she fed the horses, she waited a moment before sticking her hand inside, remembering the surprise snake her father had found a few days prior. Just as she reached for the feed bucket, something moved at the corner of her peripheral vision, and it wasn’t a horse.

Before she could shout or even turn, something hard hit the back of her head.

Pain knifed through her, she crumpled to her knees, and her world went fuzzy around the edges.

Jennie fell to the ground, her brain working, albeit not well. If the attacker thought she was unconscious, perhaps he’d leave her alone. She lay still, her head pounding, fighting back the inky blackness threatening to engulf her.

Footsteps sounded on the hard-packed earth, headed for the front entrance to the barn.

Crawling low behind the feed bin, Jennie pulled herself to her knees and waited for her attacker’s return. She heard the sound of the large wooden door closing with a click. Had he gone? Was it safe to come out?

Then footsteps ran across the floor in front of the feed barrel. Jennie hunkered low, ready to jump out and face the menace. She strained to see in the near dark, only managing to catch a glimpse of the shadowy figure racing for the back door. Something flashed in the dark. A spark?

The scent of sulfur and smoke filled the air as if a whole book of matches had been lit.

Jennie jumped up and ran after the man, her head swimming, making her progress wobbly at best. She had to stop him from dropping the fire inside the barn. The place would burn so fast there wouldn’t be time for the Dry Wash’s Volunteer Fire Department to respond.

The burning bundle flew toward the corner where stacked hay bales sat. The man hustled through the door and out of the barn so fast Jennie didn’t have a chance to catch up to him. As she reached for the back door, the sound of a horse’s hooves pounding against the dirt let her know he’d gotten away, but maybe she could see who it was.

She tried the door. It didn’t budge.

Flames rose behind her, dancing dangerously close to her back. Jennie leaped out of the way and grabbed for a horse blanket. Using the blanket, she beat at the flames, trying to put out the fire now firmly entrenched in the straw bales. As smoke filled the interior, Jennie realized she couldn’t put the fire out on her own. She had to get Lady out and go for help.

As she ran for Lady’s stall, dry, scorching heat flared behind her, smoke rose choking off her air.

Inside the horse’s stall, Lady screamed and reared, slamming against the wooden walls.

Jennie slid open the gate and grabbed for the horse’s halter. Smoke filled her lungs and she gave in to a bout of coughing. Then, pulling her shirt over her mouth, she ran for the front door, dragging the frantic horse behind her. She had to get her out, quickly, before the smoke overcame them both.

With her arm stretched out in front of her, she felt her way through the smoke. Once she located the door, she pushed the latch and leaned her weight into the heavy wood. It still wouldn’t budge. She pushed again, putting all her strength into the effort.

The front and back doors didn’t move. It had been locked with her inside.

The stack of hay became a towering inferno shooting flames up the beams into the dry wooden flooring of the loft, also full of dry hay bales.

With heat scorching her skin and lungs, Jennie sank to her knees, trying to get as low as possible. She pulled hard on Lady’s head to move the horse’s nostrils closer to the ground and away from the rising smoke.

With the back entrance blocked by flame, all Jennie could do was beat against the door, screaming until her voice cracked and her lungs were raw and scratchy from smoke.

Chapter Five

Molly’s revelation about Jennie’s marriage roiled around in Cameron’s thoughts as he traveled the road between the Morgan and the Ward ranches. How could Jennie put up with the abuse? She’d been a firebrand when he’d known her—full of confidence and a strong sense of family. How had he missed this piece of news? Molly had always kept him up to date on the goings-on in the small community of Dry Wash. Had she been too young to understand Jennie’s plight at the time?

All Cameron had heard was that she’d married shortly after he’d left for the military.

Shadows thickened as he rounded the curve in the road leading to the Flying W ranch house. Nearing the ranch, he caught a glimpse of flames and black smoke billowing above the treetops.

What the hell? His foot slammed the accelerator to the floorboard and the truck leaped forward, eating up the remaining distance.

By the amount of smoke filling the sky, the fire must be big and it appeared to be coming from the back side of the house. Cameron’s chest squeezed. Jennie was in the house with her father. Had the same person who’d taken a shot at Hank come back to finish the job?

Cameron slammed a palm to the steering wheel. Why had he thought it all right to leave the Wards without his protection? These criminals had already killed two people and probably others he didn’t know about.

As he skidded around the side of the house, he noted that it wasn’t the house on fire, but the barn. For a moment, Cameron breathed a sigh of relief. Jennie was given strict instructions to stay in the house with her father.

When Ms. Blainey burst out of the kitchen door and headed toward the burning barn, Cameron knew instinctively that Jennie hadn’t followed instructions.

Gunning the accelerator, Cameron raced the truck toward the inferno, reaching the barn a couple yards ahead of Ms. Blainey. He dropped out of the driver’s seat and ran for the barn door. “Anyone in there?” he called out to the woman behind him.

“Jennie!” Ms. Blainey kept running until she skidded to a halt in front of the barn door. “Jennie came outside a few minutes ago to take care of the horses. Oh God! She’s in there!”

“Help!” A faint cry sounded through the thick wooden door, followed by a horse’s panicked scream.

Cameron reached for the handle on the barn door and pulled. It didn’t budge. Something was keeping the door from opening. Flames rose from the rooftop and timbers crashed downward. He didn’t have time to waste. “Stand back from the door, Jennie.”

A hacking cough preceded her answer. “Okay.”

“What are you going to do? We can’t leave her in there.” Ms. Blainey reached for the door and jiggled the handle.

Cameron didn’t take time to respond. He raced for his truck, swung up into the driver’s seat and shoved the gear into drive. “Call 9-1-1!” he yelled through the open window.

Ms. Blainey’s eyes widened and she ran for the house.

Sending a silent prayer heavenward that Jennie managed to get herself and the horse out of the way, Cameron goosed the engine. Then, jamming his foot to the accelerator, he sent the truck barreling forward, ramming through the heavy doors, creating a truck-sized hole through splintered wood.

As quickly as he burst into the barn, Cameron slammed the gears into reverse and pulled out to the screeching sound of wood on metal. Smoke billowed out of the new opening, the flames rising higher into the sky.

Before he could open his door, a horse leaped out of the raging inferno through the jagged gap in the barn door, narrowly missing the truck.

Cameron wrenched his door open and leaped to the ground running. Jennie was still in there. Pulling his shirt up over his mouth and nose, he ducked low and entered the burning shell. Heat seared his skin and the smoke stung his eyes to tears. He held his breath, reluctant to breathe in the dense smoke filling the structure. Dropping to a low crouch, he felt his way to the left of the barn door.

Behind the battered remains of the entrance, he found Jennie, slumped against the hard-packed dirt floor. When he tapped her shoulder, she didn’t respond. Was he too late? Had she been claimed by smoke inhalation? Cameron didn’t take the time to check. As heat and flame crept closer, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of the blaze. He ran until he was back at the house.

Once on the porch, he laid her down and crouched next to her.

“Is she…all right?” Ms. Blainey collapsed against a porch rail, gasping from her race to the house.

Cameron ignored her question and pressed a hand to Jennie’s throat, searching for a pulse. Several long seconds passed before he felt the steady rhythm of blood circulating through her carotid artery.

Until that moment, he hadn’t let the full impact hit him. Staring out over the yard toward the flaming structure in the distance, Cameron’s chest tightened. The roof of the barn shuddered and then collapsed, sending a flurry of sparks into the air and fresh fuel into the fire. Flames licked the sky as the walls of the structure crumpled inward.

As he watched, the thought that Jennie had been in there roiled through his mind like a message on continuous replay. Cameron’s stomach clenched and bile rose in his throat. If he hadn’t gotten there in time…

“Lady?” Jennie struggled to sit up, coughing and hacking, her face covered in a thick layer of black soot. “Where’s Lady?”

With a hand against her shoulder, Cameron held her down. “Relax, sweetheart. The horse made it out just fine.”

Ms. Blainey’s shaky laugh had an almost hysterical quality. “She almost dies in the fire and she’s more worried about her horse.”

“That’s my Jennie.” Cameron smoothed the sooty hair from her forehead.

She reached up and captured his fingers, her grip tight for all that she was weak. “I didn’t see him until too late.” In normal circumstances Jennie’s voice was low and gravelly, like a sexy cat’s purr. Her words now came out as though they’d been scraped over sandpaper. She clapped a hand to her mouth and coughed, her shoulders rolling and shaking with the force.

When the fit passed and she lay back, Cameron asked, “Him?”

“He hit me in the back of the head. By the time I came to my senses, he’d jammed the front door, tossed flames at the hay and ran out the back.” Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. “I swear I heard the sound of horse’s hooves.”

Fear for her clutched at his chest and Cameron gripped her forearms. “Someone did this on purpose?”

Her nod was almost imperceptible, but it reaffirmed the nightmare.

“Any idea who? Did you see his face?”

She shook her head and winced, a hand going up to the knot forming at the base of her skull. “Too dark. I tried to get out.”

Ms. Blainey scurried toward the door. “I’ll check on that ambulance.”

“What the hell’s going on out there?” Hank Ward’s surly voice carried from the living room through the open doorway. “Why do I smell smoke? Where the hell did everyone go? Rachel? Jennie? Will someone answer?”

“He’s not going to be happy.” Rachel cast a look back at Jennie and Cameron before she ducked in. “Keep your shirt on, Hank Ward.” She hurried inside.

Finally alone with Jennie, Cameron’s guard slipped and a tremor shook him from head to toe. He reached out and pulled Jennie into his arms. “God, when I saw that fire and heard your voice inside the barn…” He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the acrid scent of smoke, grounding himself in the wonder of her physical reality after nearly losing her.

A long time had passed since he’d held her in his arms.

His hand caressed the side of her face and smoothed the soot-laden locks from her forehead. “Jesus, Jennie, you could have died.”

“But I didn’t.” Her fingers knotted in his shirt and she pulled him closer, pressing her face against his shirt.

“I should have been here.”

“You can’t be everywhere,” Jennie croaked. “I didn’t do like you said and stay in the house. It was my fault.”

She could stay forever in the circle of his arms, he wouldn’t mind in the least. Then a cough racked her lungs and Cameron backed away, giving her room to force the ash and soot from her chest.

After a minute of coughing, she collapsed back against his arms, her eyes closed. “I need to sit up.”

“You might have a concussion. Are you sure you should sit up?”

“Yes. I can breathe better that way.”

He helped her to her feet. When she wobbled, he swooped her legs out from under her, carrying her to the porch swing.

As he settled her onto the cushioned seat, three horses burst over the top of the closest hill, racing toward the fire.

Jennie leaned forward, attempting to stand. “That’ll be the guys. I need to help them put the fire out.” The effort of those few words had her doubled over coughing once again.

“Like hell. You’re suffering from a concussion and smoke inhalation. The last thing you need is to be close to that fire.” He pushed her back against the cushions. “As soon as Ms. Blainey comes out, I’ll go help. You stay here until the ambulance arrives.” He leaned across to peer into her face. “Are you going to be okay?”

Her eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with black, not her best look, but she was still beautiful to Cameron beneath the smudges of ash.

Jennie forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

Cameron stood, a wry smile twisting his lips. “Sure.”

Ms. Blainey stepped back through the doorway. “The emergency medical folks will be here in fifteen minutes.” She smiled at Jennie. “They’re sending the helicopter.” In her hand, she carried a tall glass of iced water. “Thought you might need this.”

Ms. Blainey’s arrival was Cameron’s cue to leave. If he stuck around, he might be tempted to kiss Jennie and he had no right to do that. Yet the urge was so powerful, Cameron hustled toward the stairs leading down and away from the house. He’d rather face a fiery blaze than his feelings for Jennie Ward.

JENNIE TOOK THE GLASS, her gaze following Cameron as he hurried down the steps and loped across the yard toward the barn.

Stan, Doug and Rudy were dragging water hoses toward the blaze, dampening the ground surrounding the huge fire.

Ms. Blainey cast a worried glance at the burning embers drifting toward the house. “Let’s hope the wind doesn’t pick up or we’ll have a wildfire on our hands, as well.”