Revenge (22 page)

Hillary, chubby fingers tight around the reins, was riding a small mare. Dani was in the paddock with her, instructing the little girl in keeping her balance and using the leather straps attached to the bridle to communicate with the horse. Though Dani had the horse on a lead, Hillary was issuing commands, trying to make the mare move more quickly.

Max, hearing the Mustang's engine, turned to glance over his shoulder, and his pleasant expression turned instantly hard and menacing.

Skye's stomach turned over. This wasn't going to be easy. From his harsh expression, it was obvious it was going to be hell making any attempts at conversation.

Great.

Refusing to lose her nerve, she walked up and took a position near him, her eyes focused on horse and rider, her heart thudding so loudly she wondered if he could hear it. He smelled of sweat and musk, the scents lingering in the air tinged with the faint smell of smoke.

“Dr. Donahue,” he drawled. “Well, surprise, surprise. What is this, a house call?”

Her temper simmered but she held her tongue. “I thought we needed to talk.”

“Oh, so this isn't a professional visit.”

“Knock it off, Max.” She saw Dani staring at her, and Skye, forcing a smile she didn't feel, waved to her sister.

“Didn't we say everything we had to?”

You knew he wouldn't let you off easy,
she reminded herself, but she hadn't expected the glacial coldness in his eyes, the angry set of his jaw, the stern censure of his stance. “You don't have to make this harder than it already is.”

“I'm busy.”

She touched his sleeve and he jerked away, the lines around the corners of his mouth deepening.

“Fine. You want to talk,” he said, as the wind seemed to rise and tug at Skye's hair, “I'm listening.”

It's now or never. The moment you've been waiting for.
“It would be better done in private.”

Eyes narrowing at her, he hesitated. “In private,” he said suspiciously, an impatient tic developing near his jawline. “Well, why not? How about in the barn? That private enough?”

“It'll have to be.”

With a wave to Hillary, he started across the yard, his boots crunching on the gravel. “I don't have much time,” he said, checking his watch. “The lesson's over in less than ten minutes. Hillary and I always go out to dinner—”

“You don't have to be a bastard, you know.”

He whirled to face her, and for the first time she saw beneath his anger to a glimmer of other, harder-to-define emotions hidden deep in his eyes. He grabbed her forearms, his fingers digging deep into the soft flesh. “I'm just not ready for you to start playing your mind games with me, Skye.”

Jenner walked out of the house at that moment. His lips curled into a smug smile and Max didn't waste any time. He propelled Skye to the barn and kicked open the door, strode through and yanked it shut with one hand.

They were alone.

The barn was dark and warm. The smells of dry hay and dust, oil and leather permeated the air. As strong as a manacle, one of Max's hands still clenched her arm in anger. “What is it you want, Skye?” he asked, his voice low.

“I want us to be civil to each other.”

“Civil? After what we've been through?” He glared at her as if she'd lost her mind. “What is this, Skye, some kind of game?”

“You should know by now that I don't play games.”

“Is that so?” His eyes had turned dark in the half light of the barn. “Funny. I'd say that's all you've ever done. Say one thing, do another.”

“I didn't come here to be insulted.”

“Then why are you here, huh? Just wanted to see if I was still holding up? Well, I'm doing great, Skye, and believe it or not, I think I'll manage to live without you just fine.”

She nearly gasped at the asperity in his words.

He hooked a thumb at his chest and growled, “Hillary and I did okay for a long time without you. It won't be such a loss.”

She felt as if she'd been slapped, but then what had she expected? “We can't do this to each other.”

“Do what?”

“Keep trying to hurt each other.”

“Listen to me,
Doctor,”
he snarled, grabbing her shoulders roughly. His skin stretched taut across his cheekbones and his eyes blazed with fury. “We aren't doing anything to each other anymore.” The words were harsh, but she noticed the torment in his gaze as he glared down at her.

The barn seemed to grow hot, and inside that forbidden part of her heart, she felt an unlikely jab of hope, like a faint ray of sunlight piercing through the fog. “Aren't we?” she whispered.

“What do you want from me?”

Desperation tore at her soul. “I just don't want you to hate me,” she said, and her throat was suddenly clogged with tears and something else, something choking.

Smoke.

The terrified scream of a horse cut through the silence.

“What the hell?” Max's head snapped up, and that's when Skye felt the searing heat, heard the ominous roar of fire. “My God,” Max whispered, released her and started running. On the windows of the barn, she saw the reflections of flames, bloodred and shooting upward. “Hillary!” He was out of the barn in an instant, and Skye ran after him, her heart thudding in fear, panic streaming through her blood.

Men shouted. Horses squealed.

“Fire!” a ranch hand yelled, rushing toward the stables. Horses in the pastures were neighing and galloping toward the hills, their eyes crazed in terror.

Windows cracked in the stables and black smoke billowed into the sky. Flames, fanned by the hot dry wind, crackled upward, licking greedily at the roof and siding, causing the paint to peel. And the heat—such intense, lung-scorching heat.

Heart in her throat, Skye scanned the paddock where, only a few minutes before, Dani and Hillary had been working with the little mare.

“Hillary!” Max yelled just as the foreman caught up with him.

“I think she and the trainer are in the stables,” Chester gasped, racing to the stables and throwing open one of the doors. Panicked horses, whinnying, hooves flaying, sweat lathering their hides, raced into the paddock.

“Oh, God, no,” Skye moaned, but Max didn't break stride, just rushed at the inferno. “Max, don't—” But she cut herself off, for she, too, would fight the flames of hell to save his daughter and her sister.

A wail went up from the front porch as Virginia looked on the scene with horror. Kiki and Casey were with her. Max glanced over his shoulder and hesitated for a second. “For the love of God,” he pleaded, then screamed at his mother, “call 911! Now! Get the fire department.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” Virginia cried, wringing her hands. “Where's—”

“Just do it!”

Skye, from the corner of her eye, saw Casey dash back into the house.

Horses screamed in terror.

Ranch hands began to battle the blaze with pitchforks and hoses.

“They can't be inside,” Skye said, searching the surrounding fields, but there was no sign of Hillary or Dani or the mare. “Oh, God, they can't be.” She watched in horror as the first ghastly flames tore through the roof, spraying hellish sparks into the black sky.

The fire roared, a huge, hungry beast. Max raced toward the open door of the stables. Skye was dogging his heels, trying to keep up with him.

“Stay back!” he yelled at her.

“You can't tell me what to do.”

“For God's sake, woman, use your head!”

“Your daughter and my sister are inside. Now let's go!”

Black smoke billowed through the open door. A few more horses escaped, neighing in sheer terror, running wild-eyed through the paddock, trying to flee the deadly flames.

Max threw himself inside the inferno, his eyes watering from the thickening smoke, the roar of the flames deafening. “Hillary!” he yelled. “Hillary!”

“Dani!” Skye shouted, coughing against the searing smoke, her eyes blurring, the heat blasting her.

“Get the hell out of here!” Max growled at her, then again screamed, “Hillary!”

Please, God, keep them safe. Keep that precious little girl and Dani safe!
Skye silently prayed as she squinted against the intense heat and ducked away from flames that reached out for her with hungry fingers.

Skye started coughing and couldn't quit. Max's arm was suddenly around her and jerked her back against him as the floor of the haymow gave way and burning boards tumbled downward.

“Over here!” Jenner's voice thundered from the direction of the stalls. “Max! For God's sake, get over here!”

Blinded, Max plunged through the smell of death. “I'm coming!”
God, help me!
He tripped on a water bucket and stumbled, his one hand on Skye. Fear clutched his throat, fear for Hillary and Skye.

With a roar from the flames, the roof started to give way.

“Max!” Jenner called.

“Over here!” Skye was leading him now.

He nearly stumbled into Jenner who was carrying Hillary in his arms. His grim face was black, fear etched in his features.

“Daddy!” The little girl was sobbing and choking, coughing against the smoke. Max grabbed for his daughter, tucking her trembling body against his. “Let's get out of here!” He turned toward the door, but Jenner and Skye didn't follow. “Come on,” he yelled, the stench and acrid taste of smoke unbearable. His lungs screamed at the lack of air.

“I can't. Dani's trying to save the damned horses!” Jenner yelled.

“We have to save her!” Skye started forward, but Max caught her arm.

“You can't go back there.”

“But Dani—”

“I'll get her!” Jenner rushed back into the heart of the blaze as Max carried his daughter and pulled the woman he loved back to the safety of the yard. Sirens screamed and people scurried around wildly as the first fire truck, lights flashing eerily, roared up the driveway. Men jumped from the truck before it stopped moving and long hoses were dragged toward the flames.

“Don't let it spread,” the fire chief yelled. “Hook up to the pump and use the lake if we have to!”

Choking, lungs burning, Max, Skye and Hillary escaped, but the beast raged on, and huge embers, swept by the wind, landed on the roof of the barn and the house.

“Oh, baby!” Virginia rushed off the porch and took a whimpering Hillary from Max's arms. Casey, hair billowing, ran after her.

“Watch the house! Kiki!” But the housekeeper, too, had started running away from the buildings.

“We're gonna have to evacuate!” the chief yelled. “Get these people out of here. Move it. Now!”

“Jenner and Dani are still inside,” Max said, and turned back to the stables.

“I'm going with you!” Skye was chasing him again.

Max swept down on her like an avenging angel. “Like hell you are! The best thing for you to do,
Doctor,
is to stay out here until the ambulance arrives and take care of the injured. His face was black with soot and sweat and he glared at her, begging her to listen. ”I'll find Dani and Jenner. You take care of my daughter.”

Skye clutched him. “No,” she cried, afraid that she would lose him forever, afraid that he was racing to a certain death. God, how she loved him and he'd never know. She'd never be able to tell him how much she cared. A horrible ache filled her heart and she tried to chase after him but the ranch foreman held her back. “No, no, no!” Skye knew the horror of watching the man she loved plunge toward an agonizing death.

“You have to help out here,” Chester said, and as she saw Max disappear into the maw of the burning beast, she knew he was right. No matter what her own personal tragedy encompassed, she had to help those injured, if necessary, save lives.
Oh, please, God, be with him. Don't let him die. Don't let any of them die.
In her mind's eye, she saw Max, as well as Dani and Jenner, fighting the flames, fighting the heat, the deadly smoke. She'd been in enough burn wards to know the pain and suffering, the pure agony of trying to heal after the ravages of a fire. But she would help them. Each and every one. In her heart, it didn't matter if Max was burned beyond recognition. She would always love him.

“Come here,” she said to Hillary, holding the trembling, crying child close to her breast.

“Daddy!”

“Shh, honey. Daddy will be fine,” Skye said, her worried gaze finding Virginia's. No matter what were her own private fears, she would be strong for Max's daughter. Cradling his baby close, she silently sent up a prayer just as the first huge jets of water were pumped against the rising flames and charred shingles of the stables.

A second fire truck ground to a stop. Gravel sprayed and more volunteers began working, connecting hoses and listening to instructions from the fire chief.

Time seemed to drag on forever and the flames still reached for the heavens.

“Damn it, the toolshed's going!” Chester said. He was right. The wind had caught a spark and dropped it on the tinder-dry shingles of the toolshed.

Several hoses began pumping water on the house and barn and remaining buildings. A third truck screeched to a halt in front of an ambulance as the powerful streams of water continued cascading over the burning stables.

“Daddy,” Hillary whimpered as Skye met with the fire chief.

“There are people inside. Three at least, maybe more,” she said. “Three that we know of...and the horses...”

“Okay, men, we've got some people inside. Let's go.”