Wildfire (13 page)

J
osh unsaddled Jasper and turned him out into the pasture. Six months ago, the idea of spending seven hours in the saddle to count cattle and verify their good health was as far from his thoughts as flying to the moon. Yet here he was, dusty, tired, saddle sore, and he couldn’t remember when he’d felt more fulfilled, or happier.

Though maybe that feeling had more to do with Tessa than a couple hundred head of cattle.

Which made his next task more daunting, more difficult than anything he’d done in a long while. When he got back to his cabin, he was going to pack, load up his motorcycle, and leave this ranch behind.

He wanted nothing more than to stay, but Tessa deserved better. A man worthy of her, who hadn’t messed up his personal life over and over. A man who could truly love her without reservation. After Lara, he wasn’t sure if he could ever fully commit to someone again. And how fair was that?

What had he ever done, but leave heartbreak in his wake?

“Y-you’re leaving? Tonight?” Tessa glanced between the Harley and Josh. The lids on the big fiberglass saddlebags were open, filled to the brim with his clothes. His helmet was resting on the seat, on top of a red and black leather bomber jacket.

She’d been hurt and angry and ready for a confrontation when he returned this evening. She hadn’t expected to find him packed and ready to go, without a word.

Then again, it shouldn’t be a surprise.

He’d kept his reasons for being here a secret, and now his article was done. Why would he stay another minute? It didn’t matter to him that its publication would do her irreparable harm. It didn’t matter that she’d come to care for him once again.

She held out the faxes. “These came for you this afternoon. Your
editor
said she tried calling your cell phone, then looked up our ranch number on the Internet when you didn’t return her calls. Imagine my surprise when she thanked me for helping you with your
article
—something I didn’t even know existed, because you only admitted to taking photographs—and promised you would be providing a fair and honest view.”

He hesitated for a split second, then accepted the documents without looking at them. “I don’t blame you for being upset.”

“‘Upset’ isn’t quite the right word. Surprised. Betrayed. Used. Wait a minute—
devastated
works best. I’m not exactly sure how I ‘helped’ you, by the way. Did you just need a place to stay, or was it something more?” She threw her hands up in disgust. “Have you been ferreting out bits of information all along, to support your theories? Watching, and waiting to catch us doing something wrong?”

He flinched. “I always try to make local contacts who can help with information for an article, that’s all. For
both
sides of the issue. But that wasn’t how I ended up at your ranch.”

“You just picked our place out of the blue?” she asked, incredulous.

“You rescued
me,
Tessa. Remember? You brought me home from the hospital.”

“It seems mighty convenient that you
happened
to come to this precise part of the Rockies.”

“Sylvia wanted me to do a photo essay on the effects of domestic animals on fragile government land.” A faint smile touched his lips, though his eyes were filled with sadness. “I did decide on this part of the mountains because of you. You used to talk about the Wolf Creek area, and after doing some research, I figured it would be perfect. But I figured you’d graduated from college and gone on to a career. Even after I learned you had a business here, I thought you probably had someone else running it.”

“Right.”

“I never meant to hurt you, Tessa. This was my last assignment, and I just wanted to get it done and be free of my contract—the sooner the better.”

“Why?” The sudden shadows in his eyes made her wish she hadn’t asked.

“I saw too much death. Our own soldiers. Innocent civilians. The…” He closed his eyes briefly. “The children. Suffering that never seemed to end. And for what? Did the losses make a difference—or weren’t they just a needless tragedy?” He swallowed hard. “Then our own Humvee was hit, just days before we were to leave for the States—and Lara became one of those statistics. I tried to pull her free in time, but the whole vehicle exploded in a ball of flame. I…saw her die.”

“Oh, Josh.” Tessa fought the impulse to enfold him in a comforting embrace.

“I plan to donate the money from this Wyoming assignment to Lara’s memorial, and then I’ll leave that type of photojournalism behind. I just can’t face covering any more violence, for a while, so now I’m considering a teaching position at a college in Boston. Though,” he smiled, “after the motorcycle accident, and having a chance to spend time with you, I haven’t been in a rush to go back east. But now, it’s time.”

“Well, it sure looks like you’re in a hurry now.” She glanced at his motorcycle, wondering how she could’ve ever imagined he might stay, then she stepped back. “By all means, don’t let me stand in your way.”

Tessa prowled through the house, unable to settle down with a book or a movie or the endless paperwork waiting on her desk. It was too early for bed. She knew sleep would elude her anyway.

A dozen thoughts started spinning through her brain in dizzying succession.

Where was Josh now? Had he made it to Rock Springs? Was he already on the interstate going east?

Mrs. Sawyer’s comments on Tessa’s list of suspects had matched what she’d discovered already. But of more interest was the fact that the Bassetts were still living in the area…and the uncomfortable reminder about the Farleys, who’d had four little redheads who were made homeless by Claire’s greed.

There could be many other suspects, too, once Tessa had a chance to delve further into the past. But who could’ve been hurt badly enough to want retribution so many years later? And why had they waited this long?

And then she remembered the jeers of classmates when she was in third grade. The stiff greetings of shopkeepers in town, and the whispers that were always just loud enough for her to hear.

And the family photos in the bank that had inexplicably disappeared.

And suddenly it all made sense.

The lane out to the highway was a mile long; the longest mile of Josh’s life.

It was right to leave.

It felt terribly wrong.

And only sheer strength of will kept him from turning back.

At the highway, he slipped off his helmet to adjust the strap and caught the acrid smell of smoke. Faint at first, then stronger, riding on the fitful wind.

He looked over his shoulder toward the ranch and saw it a quarter-mile back—the pulsing, threatening glow of fire speeding through the tinder-dry underbrush. It engulfed one pine tree after another, racing up the trunks and exploding, raining fire and ash, and sending flames in every direction.

And the wind was all wrong—heading straight for the ranch.

Tessa.

He made a sharp u-turn. Paused long enough to dial 911 on his cell phone. Then he roared back to the ranch and prayed every inch of the way.

O
ne minute, the deepening dusk was soft and quiet, save for the distant bawling of a mother cow. The next, the windows of the house reflected an eerie, orange glow sweeping across the horizon.

Fire.

Tessa jerked on her boots, grabbed her truck keys, and raced out onto the porch, cell phone in hand. A wall of fire glowed through the trees, menacing and powerful.

With a cry, she raced for the barn and opened the back door, then began opening the stall doors and chasing the horses out into the pasture. Smoke rolled down the aisle, sending them into a panic as they shoved past each other and escaped, whinnying and snorting.

Hobo and Elvis appeared out of nowhere, nipping at their heels and instinctively herding them along. When the last horse was freed, Tessa spun around and raced into the roiling smoke to the next building over, where there were four training horses. Her eyes were watering and her lungs were burning, burning, burning with every breath as she and the dogs drove those horses out into the pasture, too.

In the final building, she’d just made it halfway to the first stall when an odd sound made her turn around.

Her heart lodged in her throat at the sight of a tall, dark silhouette of a man standing in the doorway, backlit by the flickering orange and red sky.

And then another man joined him.

Shorter. Stocky. With a coil of rope held at his side.

“If it ain’t Ms. McAllister,” the taller one sneered.

The voice was deeper than she remembered. But she knew exactly who they were.

Trace and Lonnie Bassett.

“Please, help me. There’s horses in here, and we’ve got to stop that fire!”

“Stop it? It’s too late for that,” Lonnie snickered. “That fancy house of yours will be cinders in no time, and these barns will be next. You ain’t getting help anytime soon.”

Horrified, she started backing up as they advanced on her, one slow step after another, as if they were stalking prey. “Y-you started the fire?
Why?
”

“It’s business.” Lonnie’s voice was smug. “It’s just a real shame that you had to be in the way.”

Another fifteen feet back and she’d be up against the far door. Trapped without a weapon. And she could only imagine what they intended to do.

“W-we went to school together, remember? Same classes. And the senior prom—remember that? My date and I gave your truck a jumpstart.” She scrambled desperately for any shared experiences she could think of—anything to personalize herself and make them pause. “And remember the rodeo—”

“Shut up! This ain’t about you. It never was.”

“But—”

Past their shoulders she caught a swift movement—someone crouched low and moving toward Lonnie and Trace, heading into the barn. Lonnie started to turn around.

She screamed to distract him as she darted to one side of the aisle and ducked into a feed room. She grabbed a gallon of fly spray and twisted off the wide lid, then held it down at her side, hidden behind her thigh.
It’s not much, Lord, but please, please, make it work.

She peered around the corner, and at that instant, Josh barreled into Trace’s back, throwing him off balance. They crashed to the concrete floor in a tangle of arms and legs, with the sound of fists hitting flesh.

Lonnie hovered for a split second, then he turned to zero in on her, his eyes glittering and his breathing harsh. “Looks like it’s me and you. This oughta be fun,” he growled.

He closed the distance between them in four strides, the rope still in his hand. She could smell his breath, his sweat. He bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile—

With one swift movement she swung the gallon jug, spun, and sent the bitter, pungent liquid into his face.

He screamed, then sputtered and coughed, clawing at his eyes. Staggering blindly against the stall doors, he fell halfway to his knees with a guttural moan, then stumbled toward the barn door.

She turned to see Trace face down on the concrete floor, one arm wrenched up high behind his back as Josh knelt next to him.

“Tessa,” he said. “Hurry—get me some baling twine.”

She spun around and grabbed some twine from the feed room, then helped Josh securely bind Trace’s hands behind his back.

They found Lonnie out at the water tank, scrubbing frantically at his face. Josh secured his wrists in front, so he could still splash water at the caustic residue.

Multiple sirens sounded in the distance, a nightmarish, discordant sound that promised help was on the way.

“I called 911 about the fire, so they should be sending a number of units in,” Josh said. “There’s not much we can do alone.”

Towering flames shot into the sky as more pine trees were consumed. “Maybe you should stay with these guys, but that fire is getting too close,” she cried. “Just an ember could burn the house down. I’ve got to do
something!
”

Grabbing a water hose from the barn, she ran for the hydrant at the side of the house closest to the flames, and started spraying the exterior walls and roof.

Acrid smoke billowed across the yard coupled with waves of intense heat. But now, a half-dozen fire trucks and emergency vehicles were pulling in, plus several patrol cars.

And Tessa bowed her head in thanks.

Three days later, the smell of wet cinders still hung in the air, but luckily the firefighters had been able to contain the blaze to a little over fifty acres.

“Guess its time for me to go,” Josh said, surveying the blackened landscape on the hillside above the barns and house. “Are you going to be all right?”

Tessa nodded. “I still can’t believe Lonnie and Trace came after us like that. I know they’ve been in a lot of trouble over the years, but we’ve all known each other since school. How could they do that?”

“Greed. They were promised more money than Ellen Miller ever could’ve paid.” Josh gave her a wry smile. “I suppose she figured they could hardly sue her for the difference.”

“I can’t imagine her dwelling on revenge for all these years. It must’ve poisoned everything else in her life.”

“Michael said she was in fourth grade when Claire evicted her family from their rental house. The family ended up homeless for a long while, and then her parents split up. Since they hadn’t lived in Wolf Creek for very long no one recognized Ellen when she moved back as an adult.”

“So she was here, quietly waiting for her big chance—and she got it.”

“She undoubtedly hoped you’d default on that loan, but she was also behind your other troubles at the ranch, according to Michael. She probably figured Trace was the perfect partner, because no one would look any farther than his own checkered past if he was ever caught. He and Lonnie have your missing cattle, by the way. They were planning to ship them later on, once people weren’t watching for them any longer.”

“Lonnie and Trace had their own reasons to see the McAllisters suffer,” Tessa said sadly. “Not that it excuses what they did, but my mother had some sort of influence on the foreclosure of their ranch when they were kids.”

“Which is probably why all three focused on your mother’s ranch—and you because you run it. They wanted vengeance.”

“What about the cabin burglaries? And Edward’s death?”

“Michael thinks Trace has been breaking into cabins for a good year, and has been making quite a haul. A deputy found a big stash of stolen property at his place. His fingerprints matched those found at the murder scene, too. No word yet on a confession, but my guess is that Edward surprised him during a burglary, and Trace panicked.”

“And Danny?”

“The judge has already released him.”

Her heart lifted, despite the enormity of everything that had happened. “Thank goodness.” She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat as she looked up at Josh. “You were wonderful, the night of the fire. I can’t thank you enough for all you did.”

“I’m just glad I came back in time.” He climbed on his Harley and started the motor, regarding her with troubled eyes. “I…do owe you an apology about that magazine article. I finally read through it, and saw why you were so upset. The magazine used my photos with someone else’s text, Tess. I guess mine didn’t quite represent the magazine’s world view.”

“But your name was on that draft—and mine.”

“I asked that they be removed.” His wry smile reappeared. “The other writer gladly agreed.”

“Thanks.” She studied the gleaming chrome on his Harley to avoid meeting his eyes again. “That article would’ve put me in an awkward position with the other ranchers here, and it doesn’t represent what I believe. But did you lose all the money, then?”

“Nope…and I’ve already sent it on to Lara’s family, toward a memorial scholarship in her name. That’s all I really cared about, not the byline.”

She nodded, touched by his thoughtful gesture, but unable to find the words that would make things right. Knowing. With grim certainty, that he wouldn’t have packed his things if he didn’t want to finally escape Wyoming…and her.

“I won’t forget you, Tess. I prayed so hard, when I saw you facing down Lonnie and Trace—I couldn’t imagine this world without you in it…even if you and I are a continent apart.”

She smiled sadly at that. “I was praying, too, believe me. But you really came through for me. If you hadn’t been there—” She shuddered, trying not to imagine what could’ve happened.

“At least this time, I was able to make a difference.” He sighed heavily, the expression in his eyes far away. “Second chance…different outcome. I’ll always thank the Lord for that.”

She looked up at him, wanting to wrap her arms around him and never let him go; realizing that such a gesture would just make this moment all the more awkward. “Thank you. For everything. I’ll never forget what you did for me.”

Their gazes met, locked for a long moment. Then he smiled in farewell and revved the engine before roaring down the lane in a cloud of dust.

Leaving her feeling…empty. Alone.

But, life would go on. Danny was back, and two new ranch hands would be starting next week. There would be pack trips, and chores, and all of the endless jobs at the ranch to keep her busy. She really wouldn’t have time to miss him at all.

With a sigh, she headed for the tack room in the main barn. She stopped just inside the door…and blinked.

A saddle stand had been pulled into the center of the room. It held a blanket-covered saddle—probably one of the older ones that Danny was helping her restore.

But oddly enough, there was some sort of ribbon tied to the saddle horn, and an envelope lay on top of the blanket. Bemused, she moved closer and found her name on the envelope. She slid a finger under the flap and withdrew the handwritten letter.

She gently lifted the blanket away, and there was her beautiful, custom made saddle—its silver polished and gleaming, the leather buffed.

Only now it wasn’t just a beloved gift from Uncle Gray, but it would always be a link to Josh, who’d managed to steal her heart…twice.

She closed her eyes. In so many ways, she was a strong, take-charge woman, who let nothing stand in her way.

So why had she let him walk out of her life?

He’d left once before and made it just to the highway before turning back. This time, he wasn’t stopping until he hit I-80 and was well on his way out East.

Miles. It would just take lots and lots of miles, and he’d be over Tessa McAllister for good. He wouldn’t think about her smile, or her beautiful eyes, or her inner strength. He wouldn’t think about how she made him feel, or the way he felt whole just being with her.

He wasn’t going to think about her at all.

A half hour south of Wolf Creek, he started to slow down…just for safety.

An hour south, he started looking in his rearview mirror, as if he could catch a glimpse of her face.

After one more mile, he gave up. Turning around, he pushed the bike up to sixty-five.

Anything worth keeping was worth fighting for, and he was going to fight for Tessa. If it took years, he was going to prove to her that she could count on him, no matter what.

He hadn’t seen another vehicle on this desolate highway in over an hour. Ahead, just a speck of dust on the horizon, he could see one now.

It drew closer.

His heart did a flip-flop in his chest when he realized it was a truck from Snow Canyon Ranch, and Tessa was behind the wheel.

They both pulled off to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by sagebrush and sand, with the jagged peaks of the Rockies off to the west.

“I made a mistake,” she said simply. “I’ve spent too much of my life second-guessing decisions, analyzing things to death. Imagining that I’m in control. I’m finally realizing that maybe it isn’t all about me. Maybe it’s time to take a leap of faith, and trust in God for what He has in store for us.”

He cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Tess. I think I always have, only it took nearly losing you to make me realize just how much. Before we mess this up one more time, I need to ask you—will you consider marrying me?”

She smiled and moved into his embrace, her head against his chest. “I love you, too, and believe me, you don’t need to ask me twice.”