Wildfire (6 page)

“Whatever you say.” But his voice was troubled as he turned back to finish the chores. He absently rubbed a hand over his heart. “Maybe…you can take Claire for a drive this week instead of coming here?”

But they both knew that she lived for the afternoons when she could come back to her old home at the ranch…and that it was almost impossible to stand in the way of Claire McAllister.

The whole county probably knew how dangerous that could be.

T
essa pulled up to a stop in front of the Snow Canyon Lodge and rested her wrists at the top of the steering wheel, trying to ignore the nervous little tap dance in her stomach.

Her sister Janna stepped out onto the wide, covered porch of the building and waved, so it wasn’t possible to just slip away. With a sigh, Tessa climbed out of the truck and started up the long flagstone walk.

It was only fair that all three sisters help with their mother, and Tessa had always done her share. Until last year, Claire had been able to continue living down at the ranch with her. But gradually, dementia had been taking its toll, and now she needed better supervision than Tessa could provide 24/7, given her long hours of ranch work and the overnight pack trips.

Claire had been living at the lodge for almost a year, and she still wasn’t happy about her loss of independence.

Janna, her strawberry blond ponytail swinging with each step, came down to meet Tessa halfway. She looked over her shoulder at the lodge, then bit her lower lip.

“I’ve been talking all morning about the new calves and foals at the ranch,” she said in a low voice. “Maybe you can keep her entertained with checking them all out, then take her to lunch in town.”

“I hope so. There’s no sense in getting her upset.” Tessa sighed. “Though there’s no way that I’ll be able to keep her away from the home place for the next four weeks, either. And even if she doesn’t see Josh, sooner or later, she’s going to notice that someone new is living in the old bunkhouse.”

“Maybe she’ll surprise us. Surely after all these years, even she can find some forgiveness in her heart.”

“We’re talking about Claire McAllister here. There are people in this town who say she doesn’t even have one.”

Though even as she spoke those words, Tessa felt a twinge of guilt at her own failings in that department. Josh had been at the ranch for four days now, and she’d tried to avoid him as much as possible.

Janna rested a hand on Tessa’s forearm, her eyes sad and filled with concern. “I know it’s been hard for you, living at the ranch all these years. She probably ran it—and you—with an iron hand.” Janna looked across the lawn to where her ten-year-old daughter Riley was playing fetch with Maggie, her fluffy little white dog. “We’ve had a taste of that while she’s been living with us.”

“I’m sure,” Tessa said dryly. “After Leigh and Cole get married at the end of June, maybe we can all take turns at having her stay with us for a week or so at a time.”

“Actually, I’ve read that it’s better to have a quiet, consistent environment with Alzheimer’s patients, so it’s probably best for her to stay here…until it’s no longer possible.”

“I hope that day’s long in coming. I think it would kill her if she had to be moved into a nursing home.”

“Are…you okay, with Josh being there?”

“It doesn’t matter. He means nothing to me anymore. I just stay clear and Sofia takes him his meals.”

“But—”

The front door of the lodge opened, and Claire stepped outside. Slender, angular, with the no-nonsense stride and sun-cured skin of a lifelong rancher, she strode toward them. “You’re
late.
”

Janna met Tessa’s eyes, her mouth twitching, as a flash of complete understanding passed between them.

“I had to wait for the farrier,” Tessa said briskly. “Ready to go? I figure we’ll drive out into some of the pastures to check on the mares and foals, then we can go to the upper range and take a look at the cow-calf herd. I need your advice on which ones we should cull. After that, I need to pick up some horse liniment at Leigh’s vet clinic, so I’ll take you to lunch at that new café next door. Maybe she can even join us.”

With a short nod, Claire continued on toward the Snow Canyon Ranch pickup and climbed in the passenger side.

Janna gave Tessa a thumbs-up. “You handled that well.”

“For once, anyway. Actually, I do need to haul a load of cattle to a sale barn. Soon.” Tessa hesitated, still feeling awkward over their closer relationship after years of estrangement. “There’s a note due at the bank, and the loan officer refused to even consider an extension.”

“For your outfitting business?”

“Breeding stock for the ranch. With everything else that happened this year, money is tight. But if I don’t come up with the twelve grand in time, I have a feeling the bank will be happy to collect the collateral and ruin our credit rating.”

“One of the perks of being a McAllister in this county—where all too many people still resent us.”

“Or Claire. But none of that was our fault.
Ever.
”

It had been Claire, always Claire, and her callous disregard for anyone who stood in her way. She’d always driven a hard bargain. Evicted tenants experiencing tough times. Some said she’d even used her influence with her old cronies at the local bank, to see that several struggling ranchers were foreclosed, so she could snap up their property.

Janna bit her lower lip. “I wish I had the money to give you. But this will be our first full tourist season here, and I invested everything I had into refurbishing this place.”

“I wasn’t asking, but thanks anyway. I’ll figure it out.” Tessa pulled her truck keys out of her pocket. “Barring any trouble, I’ll have her home by six.”

Tessa turned to leave, then sniffed the air and stopped. “Do you smell that?”

Janna glanced to the west, and Tessa followed her gaze.

From here, the faint, silvery-blue plumes of smoke were barely visible—belying the fact that hundreds of acres of tinder-dry forest land were now reduced to cinders.

“There were lightning strikes up in the mountains last night, and also down by Salt Creek,” Janna said somberly. “I heard the crews are fighting a half-dozen new fires.”

“It’s way too early for the fire season to start. What’s it going to be like when we get to the beginning of August?”

They looked at each other, and then at the towering pines surrounding the log-framed lodge and the row of rustic guest cabins that trailed over the hill. Every part of the resort was highly vulnerable, and the ranch was, too.

With just one bolt of lightning—or a careless camper’s cigarette—everything they’d worked for could go up in smoke.

If he spent another minute indoors, he’d go mad. And if he had to wear this cast much longer, it would probably drive him over the edge, too.

Josh grabbed one of his crutches and hobbled to the door, pulled it open and hopped over to the Adirondack-style chairs on the front porch.

He awkwardly maneuvered into one and propped his foot on the seat of the other, then looked across the broad parking area toward the barns where Danny was talking to a group of middle-aged tourists.

One by one, he helped each person mount a horse and re-checked the girths, then he climbed onto his own rangy buckskin and led them down the road, with a single pack horse in tow indicating that this would be a supper cook-out ride. A cloud of dust boiled up behind them, then they turned off the road and disappeared into the trees.

Tessa had left in her pickup hours before, and Sofia had taken off soon afterward. From the pastures behind the barns came the occasional whinny, and somewhere in the trees above, a woodpecker was jackhammering its way into a tree. But otherwise the solitude was almost deafening—a surreal contrast to Josh’s life up until this point.

He had only to close his eyes and he was back.

Back to that arid, dusty and desolate land where roadside bombs threatened the most innocuous trips. Where one could die in a split second if caught in the crosshairs of the sniper’s rifle or in the vicinity of someone willing to blow themselves up for their cause.

And with that, came the nightmares—desperate people running. Panic. The staccato fire of an M-16.

And Lara—always, he saw Lara, her beautiful face broken and bleeding. He should’ve been able to drag her to safety before the second explosion. He could’ve saved her life.

But he’d been injured. Disoriented. And because he failed her, she died on a rocky, desolate road outside of Bagdad, her eyes filled with terror and his name on her lips…

Something damp and cool probed at his hand.

Opening his eyes, he found himself looking into the warm, sympathetic face of Elvis—the Border collie that followed Gus everywhere. The dog nudged his hand again and whined.

Josh swallowed hard and shoved away the images of violence that still plagued him, absurdly thankful for the dog’s presence. “Did you get left behind too, sport?”

But Elvis didn’t lean into him for attention. He shoved his nose under Josh’s wrist and bumped it, hard—then he jumped off the porch and loped a few yards away before stopping and looking over his shoulder.

Exactly how some dog in a kids’ movie would telegraph a call for help, only those things didn’t happen in real life. Maybe he just wanted to play catch.

Elvis came back in a flash and stood just out of reach—then started to bark, the volume increasing exponentially until he was bouncing on his front feet with each effort.

“Okay, okay,” Josh muttered. “I’ll take your word for it. But this better be good.”

He painstakingly limped inside to retrieve his other crutch, then awkwardly eased down the three porch steps, praying that he wouldn’t fall flat on his face. Elvis ran ahead and came back a dozen times, each circuit taking him to the wide open door of the barn, while Josh made his way across the parking area.

By the time he made it to the door, he knew the dog’s agitation was for real. And the second he stepped into cool shadows of the building, he knew way.

Halfway down the aisle, Gus was sprawled on the concrete, face down.

And he wasn’t moving.

“I swear, she’s gone—and so’s the old lady. I saw them both leave. We gotta get movin’ while we can.” The man hung back in the shadows of the tall pines near the house. “You in, or are you out?”

“What about the old guy? What if
he’s
in there?”

“He don’t go in the big house ’cept to eat, and it ain’t dinnertime. He and the old lady live in the east end of the bunkhouse. He’s probably nappin’, with the boss gone.”

The smaller man fidgeted. “But what if—”

“Have I been wrong yet?”

“And that new guy—the one on crutches. What if—”

“You think I can’t take out someone on
crutches?
Anyways he hasn’t come outside in two days, far as I can tell.”

“Maybe we oughta move to that side of the house—so we can keep an eye out for him.”

“And risk being seen? What are you, stupid?” Swearing under his breath, the bigger man crouched down and reached behind him to adjust the gun and holster hidden at the small of his back. “We’ll be in and out in three minutes, tops. Now
shut up
.”

Swiftly scanning the clearing, he ran to the back of the house, tested the screen door, then pulled out a knife and sliced the screen. He reached inside and unlocked the door.

Listened.

Then moved inside, with his companion right behind him. “You know what we gotta do. Right?”

Without looking over his shoulder, the bigger man crept into the depths of the house until he found the first floor office. Signaling his buddy, he then tore into the desk. The file drawers. Checked behind the pictures on the wall.

He found what he needed in the depths of a closet, behind a stack of boxes. “Got it,” he said. “Now let’s get outta here—”

They both froze.

The faint, discordant sound of sirens drifted through the house—and they were coming
closer.

“You said there wasn’t no security in this place,” the shorter man snarled. “Guess you ain’t so smart after all.”

“Really?” Reaching for the holster at his back, the tall one debated. Then he dropped his hand and turned away.
Later, my friend. Later.

He took a last look around and savored a surge of victory. Of vindication.

And then he followed his buddy out of the house at a dead run.

J
osh had trained as an EMT during college, something that had come in handy more than once during his years as a photojournalist in war-torn countries in the Middle East.

But that training had been almost fifteen years ago, he’d only kept up on CPR since then, and he’d certainly never tried to provide emergency medical care with an awkward cast on his leg and thirty sutures on his own belly.

By the time the ambulance and patrol cars arrived, Gus was still unconscious and his heart beat was erratic, but at least he was breathing.

Now, in the starkly lit emergency room of the tiny Wolf Creek Hospital—a place that was becoming entirely too familiar—he looked up at the sound of hurried footsteps and saw Tessa come around the corner, followed by an older woman with short-cropped silver hair.

Tessa’s eyes widened at the sight of him, and he could’ve sworn that he caught a flash of fear in her expression. She hesitated, then set her jaw and dropped into the seat next to him. “How is Gus? Is—is he all right?”

“They can’t really tell me anything. I’m not family. But Sofia got here a few minutes ago, and she’s with him right now. If a nurse comes by, maybe you can send a message back there.”

“How did you get here?”

“I…” He ducked his head. “Sort of borrowed Gus’s truck.”

“You drove? In that cast?”

“Lucky for me, it’s on my left leg, and the truck has an automatic transmission. I figured I’d better follow the ambulance, so someone would be here for him until his wife came.”

“Who is this, Tessa?” The older woman’s voice was sharp, suspicious. “And why is he here?”

Tessa drew in a slow breath. “Claire, this is…Josh Bryant. He’s a guest out at the ranch. And Josh, this is my mother, Claire McAllister.”

Claire’s gaze dropped pointedly to Josh’s leg. “He certainly can’t be going on any pack trips like that.”

Tessa’s shoulders relaxed, almost imperceptibly. “He was in an accident not far from the ranch, so he just needed a place to recuperate for a while. We put him in Ray’s old cabin.”

“Humph.” The woman took a chair on the opposite side of the room, her narrowed eyes never leaving Josh’s face. “There’s something familiar about you.”

“Well,” Tessa exclaimed. “Does anyone need some coffee? Soda?”

Josh shifted in his chair, retrieved his billfold from the back pocket of his jeans, and pulled out a five. “It’s on me, if you don’t mind getting me a Coke.”

She wavered, glancing between him and her mother, as if uncertain about whether or not she could leave them alone together.

“I understand Gus has worked for you a long time,” he ventured after Tessa disappeared down the hall.

“Over forty years.” Claire fixed him with a piercing look, as if trying to read his thoughts. “Where are you from?”

“Born in Texas, but I spent most of my years out East.”

“Doing what?”

“Photographer, mostly. Scenic stuff, these days. Travel and nature magazines, human interest topics.”

She frowned, clearly searching for some memory of him. But he knew they’d never met, and Tessa had certainly skirted the fact that she’d known him back in college. Why?

“Good thing you were around to help Gus,” she said finally, settling back in her chair. “Couldn’t have been easy with that leg of yours.”

Tessa appeared with a Coke and two coffees, and glanced between them, her face pale. “Any word yet?”

“Stupid system,” Claire muttered. “Gus is like a brother to me. Those fool doctors ought to be able to come out and tell us something.”

A few minutes later, Sofia came through the double doors leading back to the ER, her eyes red and a crumpled tissue clutched in one hand. Her stride faltered when she looked between Claire and Josh, then she walked into Tessa’s welcoming embrace.

“Tell us,” Tessa whispered. “Is he all right?”

“H-heart attack.”

“Is he—”

“They just ran more tests. They already gave him a drug to break the clot, and they’ve had to defibrillate him twice since he got here. I-I’m waiting to talk to the doctor.”

Tessa guided Sofia to a chair and sat down next to her, still holding her hand. “I’ve been praying for him, and for you.”

“And I haven’t stopped praying since I got the call.” Sofia gave Josh a watery smile. “How did you find my cell phone number?”

“It was on the tack room bulletin board, in the barn.”

“The doctors say you saved my husband’s life.” She reached out to grasp his hand between both of hers. “If there’s ever
anything
I can do for you, just say the word. I can’t ever express how thankful I am.”

“The EMTs are the ones who really did their job right.” Josh started to rise, then drew in a sharp breath at a sudden stab of pain. Wobbled.

Tessa was across the room in a flash, grabbing his arm. She pushed him back into his chair. “Sit. Don’t move. Understand?”

“I’m fine, Tess—”

“No, you’re not. Sofia?”

The other woman hurried over to stand next to him, while Tessa disappeared through the double doors of the ER, calling for a nurse.

And it was only then that he looked down—and found his shirt was soaked in blood.

It was after midnight by the time Tessa dropped her mother off at Janna’s place and got Josh back to his cabin.

“I couldn’t be more thankful about you helping Gus the way you did,” she said as she bustled around, pulling shades and turning on lamps. “But you remember what the doctor said, right? No heavy lifting. Take it
really
easy. Frankly, he seemed surprised that anyone could tear open his sutures like that. You must’ve worked on Gus with CPR for a long time.”

“I really didn’t have much choice.” He gave her a weary smile. “And I’d do it all over again in a minute.”

“I know.” She hovered as he made his way across the room to the couch, then reached for his crutches when he set them aside. “And I’m thankful.”

Their fingertips brushed, just a brief contact, but she felt her cheeks heat and she quickly turned away, embarrassed at her reaction.

“So now—” Her voice sounded breathless even to her own ears, and she swallowed hard. “Now, you need to take good care of yourself or that incision isn’t going to heal. They said you were really lucky that you didn’t do any internal damage.”

“Tess.” His voice was low, husky. Gently mocking. “I can take care of myself, but you probably need to get up to the house and get some sleep. It’s been a long day for you, too.”

“Right.” She’d always been attracted to his dark, good looks. His intelligence and his sense of humor. But now, after what he’d done for Gus despite his own injuries, she felt more drawn to him than ever.

She backed toward the door, then turned and let herself out into the dark night.

She’d loved the solitude here…the complete absence of city lights, the blanket of stars at night. The discordant chorus of coyotes that filled the silence. It had always been exactly right, being here with just Gus and Sofia tucked in their private lodgings, and no one else to get in the way.

But now, as she walked to the house and let herself in the front door, she felt oddly lonely. Bereft. From the shock of nearly losing her old friend, probably.

But Sofia was most likely already on her way back to the ranch by now, as Gus had stabilized, and he’d insisted that she go home for a decent night’s sleep. He would be home soon, too—the doctor had predicted that he’d have a four or five day stay in the hospital, and then up to thirty days in cardiac rehab at a skilled care center after that.

Thank you, Lord, for your mercy. For the life of my friend. For keeping him with us. Please, let him recover well and be strong, so he can enjoy retirement…

Locking the front door, she headed on through the house to the back hall leading to her office and two main floor bedrooms, then took a detour to the kitchen to lock that door as well. Until the string of cabin break-ins in the area, she’d rarely locked up at night. But now—

She cocked her head, studying the back door, then fumbled for a light switch.

The heavy oak door was open, as usual, but the screen door was wide open, too. The screen itself was torn from top to bottom, and hung limp and useless.

She blinked, not believing what she saw, then moved closer.

This didn’t appear to be the work of a raccoon trying to come in after food, or a larger animal that might’ve blundered into it. The screen looked as if it had been cut by a laser-sharp knife.

Her pulse stumbled as she spun on her heel, scanning the kitchen. Nothing was out of place. Not the pretty little potted ivy that still sat dead center on the round oak claw-foot table.

Not the neat stack of mail on the counter, or the orderly row of boots by the door. Even the cookie jar was untouched—a prime target for ’coons—and the old fishbowl by the phone was still full of the coins she tossed in whenever emptying her pockets before doing laundry.

Still scanning the room, she backed over to the entryway closet and retrieved Claire’s old shotgun and a box of shells from the locked gun cabinet inside. Stood quiet and still for several long minutes, listening for sounds in the house.

The house felt empty—with that hollow, vacant aura of total silence. She wavered about calling the sheriff’s office, then started a slow, methodical search of the main floor, flipping on the lights in the dining and living room as she went, then the hallway and bedroom lights.

Everything was pristine…the bedding neatly draped, the dresser drawers closed. No sign of someone pawing through her possessions in search of jewelry.

Calmer now, she reached the door to her office. She kept no cash here. All important documents were kept in a safe deposit box at the bank. So what could anyone find? Old receipts and livestock records, mostly. Anything more sensitive was safely filed away or shredded.

She flipped on the light, drew in a sharp breath, then jerked her cell phone from its case and tried to speed dial with shaking fingers. After two false starts, she managed to make the call, then leaned against the door frame and fought back her rising nausea.

Desk drawers hung askew. Boxes had been pulled out of the closet and thrown across the room. And covering every flat surface was a blizzard of papers that had once been neatly filed.

Someone had been here, but he—or she—hadn’t grabbed the heirloom jewelry in her dresser. The twenties laying on her bureau. The Nikon camera that still sat on top of one of the file cabinets.

So what on earth had they been after?

Lost in thought, she sorted through the wreckage, feeling violated and angry—

And then, she heard footsteps coming down the hall.