Wildfire (4 page)

“Not everything. I remember coming up on a sharp curve in the road, and suddenly found a moose crossing the road. I don’t remember if I actually hit it, or if I just swerved and left the road.”

“You’re sure it was an animal?” Michael frowned. “Not another vehicle?”

“When you look death in the face, time seems to stand still.” Josh closed his eyes, thinking back. Envisioned the moment when he’d taken that corner. “I don’t have any doubt. Why?”

Michael jotted a few notes on the clipboard, then looked up. “We’ve had some problems around here lately, and that same afternoon there was a break-in at a cabin not far from there. It wouldn’t be a surprise if the suspects were in a big hurry to leave.”

Josh settled back against the pillow, suddenly tired. And unsettled, because if a simple conversation wore him out, what on earth was he going to do when the hospital discharged him?

“What you’ve said confirms what I heard from the Bassetts…a couple of guys who happened to be fishing in the area. They mentioned seeing a moose near the highway in that vicinity, too.” Michael studied him intently for a few moments. “You’re a very lucky man,” he said finally. “I hear you wouldn’t have made it if Tessa hadn’t found you when she did.”

“It was a toss-up, I guess. Internal bleeding or a bear.”

“And I understand you don’t have relatives here. Have you made arrangements to go home?”

Home.
A mostly empty condominium on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. A place he landed rarely, between photo assignments abroad. Two flights of stairs. No elevator.

He didn’t even want to think about the indignity of trying to manage those steps with a cast and crutches, much less trying to make the trip up and down with groceries and other supplies.

“I’m not sure where I’ll go, or how I’ll get there. I understand my Harley is totaled.”

“We hauled it up to a dealer over in Jackson. He says it can be fixed, if you’re interested.” Michael pulled a business card out of his uniform shirt pocket. “I’m not sure what your insurance deductible is, but he says the repairs are possible, and I know that people around here are generally happy with his work.” He smiled. “Then again, maybe you’d rather fly or rent a car to make your trip home a little easier.”

Josh shook his head. “I’ve had that bike since college. It belonged to my late uncle, and I’d do just about anything to rebuild it. I’ll stick around these parts until it’s ready to roll.”

“You probably won’t find any lodging. The resorts around here fill up months in advance.”

The sheriff was right. Josh had been checking into rental property in the area—the seasonal lodges and cabins, as well as the long-term lease situations. Not only was everything exorbitantly priced, but it had all been spoken for months ago—even Snow Canyon Lodge and Cabins, which he’d learned was operated by the sheriff and his new wife.

“I’d be careful, if I were you.” Michael paused, as if debating about how much to say. “Did Tessa tell you that someone shot at her a couple weeks ago?”

“What?”

“She was on a trail close to one of the break-ins. Someone in a dark pickup shot her in the leg, but she managed to make it home all right. I brought in the state police to help process the crime scene at the cabin.”

Josh had felt uneasy before, but now a sick feeling worked through his stomach. “Someone
shot
at her? Do you have any suspects?”

“Not yet. We’re not sure if it was accidental, a warning shot gone wrong, or someone taking intentional aim. I just wish I knew if it was one of the cabin thieves who have been hitting the area. If the guy recognized her and thought she saw something incriminating, he could decide to go after her again.”

“But she has ranch hands at her place for protection, right? Other employees?”

“Just one old man, and a young guide who goes out there whenever he has a pack trip.” Michael sighed. “I think she needs to stay with someone until this is settled, but my wife and I offered, and she refused. She’s just too stubborn for her own good.”

A career as a photojournalist had drawn Josh to hot spots around the globe; and more dangerous situations than most people ever encountered. But the thought of Tessa at a remote ranch, alone and defenseless against some unseen enemy, filled him with more fear than he’d felt in a long, long time.

He knew she wasn’t happy about him turning up in her life again—she’d made that crystal clear. But
someone
needed to be out there, protecting her.

Michael pocketed his pen and dropped his clipboard to his side. “I’d better leave. You look stressed out—like you could use a nap.”

“And that’s just so sad, isn’t it? I haven’t taken naps since I was three,” Josh retorted dryly. “Believe me, I can’t wait to get back on my feet.”

But when he did, he wouldn’t be setting up camp out in the woods. He needed to figure out a way to wrangle an invitation to Snow Canyon Ranch, because Tessa needed help, and an injured guy on crutches was better than no one at all.

T
essa took a deep breath, unclenched her fists, then walked into the hospital with a determined smile fixed on her face.

This was the last place she wanted to be. It had taken her ten minutes of slow, concentrated breathing to walk in the door of the building. But after Michael’s phone call this morning, she knew it was the right thing to do—even if it made her heart pound and her palms sweat.
I can do this. I can handle Josh for a few weeks.

She knocked on Josh’s door and stepped just inside, one hand on the door frame. He rolled his head on the pillow and looked at her, his eyes widening in surprise. The bruises and cuts on his face still made him look as if he’d been in a fight and lost, and her heart softened…just a little.

“I understand you’ll be released tomorrow,” she said. “Though Michael says you plan to stay in town until your Harley is fixed so you can ride it home.”

“True.” A hint of amusement glimmered in Josh’s eyes, undoubtedly at her obvious discomfort. “And now that a deputy found my billfold, I can actually pay for it.”

“It’s probably almost impossible to find lodging around here, this time of year.”

“After making endless phone calls, I know that’s true.” His expression grew forlorn. “I guess I’ll have to stay in my tent—if it’s still where I left it.”

“Sounds like a perfect place, what with those surgical sutures and a cast to keep clean.” She drew in a steadying breath. “The nurses tell me that you’re using a wheelchair for now, but that you’ll graduate to crutches before discharge.”

“Lucky me,” he said with a dry laugh.

“I talked to my housekeeper Sofia, and we figure the bunkhouse at the ranch would work, if we could get you up the porch steps. We made it into a rustic sort of cabin duplex years ago, and she and Gus live in the bigger unit at the east end—but the other side is empty.”

“Really?”

She tried for a believable smile. “We can even bring you your meals.”

“You’re sure you won’t mind having me around?”

“Look, we were…friends, once. We broke up. End of story. But since I’m probably the only person you know around here, I can certainly help you out.”

He hesitated. “It’s kind of you, but…”

“What other options do you have? You need a place to stay, and I have the room. Claire—my mother—stays with my sister Janna and her husband Michael, and I’m not around the home place all that much. But Sofia will be close by, so she can watch over you, and help with anything you need if I’m not there.”

He studied her face for a long moment, as if reading her thoughts. “Thanks,” he said finally. “I understand I also need to thank you for saving my life. I don’t remember much about that night, but if you hadn’t come looking for me—if you hadn’t persisted—I wouldn’t be here today.”

“Thank Danny for noticing the skid marks on the highway, and the doctor who came in for your emergency surgery, not me.” She knew she sounded ungracious, but this was the most awkward situation she’d faced in a long time. “I’ll be here tomorrow at noon to pick you up.”

“I’ll repay you,” he said quietly. “I promise you that.”

“No need, just heal well and get better.” She managed a smile and excused herself, then left the hospital as quickly as possible.

It was the right thing to do. Her sister Leigh, a veterinarian in town, lived in a small apartment at the back of her vet clinic and had no space for a guest. Janna and Michael’s resort was fully booked—and even if they had room, Claire lived there. If she even caught wind of the fact that Josh was in town, there was no telling what she would do, but it certainly wouldn’t be pretty.

On the long drive back to the ranch, Tessa found herself talking to God again. A gentle warmth seemed to spread through her as she spoke from her heart.

Please—let this all work out without anyone being hurt. And please, help me keep my secrets safe.

“Quite a place,” Josh said, tilting a glance at Tessa as she drove up the mile-long lane leading to the home place of Snow Canyon Ranch.

After leaving the highway, the road dropped into a broad valley sectioned into pastures of horses and ghost-white Charlois cattle, then wound back up into the foothills, through heavy stands of pine and aspen. Now, the roofs of the house and barns were just visible over the next rise.

The rugged, snow-frosted peaks of the Rockies formed a stunning backdrop as far to the north and south as the eye could see.

She shrugged. “It’s a working ranch. Nothing fancy like those horse farms out East. But I don’t think there’s any place else as pretty as this.” She spared him a quick look. “Are you doing okay?”

“Great.” He used both hands to readjust the position of his left leg, though in the confines of the truck cab he was able to gain just a few inches at best.

At the hospital he’d been in bed or in a wheelchair, with his cast elevated, and after twenty-five miles of rough, twisting mountain road—much of it potholed or cobbled together with patches of asphalt—his throbbing leg felt painfully tight inside the cast.

If he’d had his hunting knife on his belt, he might’ve been tempted to start carving away the hard fiberglass, just to gain some relief.

After negotiating a tight turn, Tessa glanced at him again. The corner of her mouth lifted briefly before settling back into a grim line. “I can well imagine how great you feel. If I had a car, I would’ve driven it instead. Might’ve been smoother.”

“I’m just thankful for a place to stay.”
And for more reasons than you know.

He’d been careful to avoid sounding too relieved over her offer of a place to recuperate. In truth, it had been an answer to his prayers. He’d been mulling over a dozen different ways to finagle a way to stay at her ranch, and none of them had seemed plausible enough to broach.

“I know this isn’t exactly convenient for you,” he added.

“Like I said at the hospital, it’s no problem. Ray, my other ranch hand, quit last week, so his side of the bunkhouse is empty.”

“You aren’t hiring someone else?”

She snorted under her breath. “Take a look. A good look. What do you see?”

He surveyed the panorama of ranch land unfolding as they topped the last rise. “Cattle. Horses. Trees—lots of trees. A big ranch house and set of outbuildings. Nice place, by the way.”

She gestured impatiently. “Look
closer.
”

Despite the deep green blanket of trees cloaking the lower half of the mountains, the grass at either side of the ranch land was pale gold, and looked dry enough to shatter in a stiff breeze. He caught a faint, acrid scent of smoke coming in through the truck windows—probably from the forest fires that had been escalating to the north and west.

The effect of the drought was worse here than any place he’d seen yet.

“I suppose all of the ranchers around here are hurting.”

“For five years and counting.” She nodded toward the cattle. “Last summer we got just one cutting of hay instead of three, and I had to buy several loads out of Nebraska. If it weren’t for our government grazing rights on the higher ranges, we’d have had to ship our entire herd by now. As much as I need another cowhand, not paying those extra wages for a few weeks has been a blessing.”

He studied the tall, rangy cattle closest to the fence. They didn’t bother looking back at the truck. “Doesn’t look like they have much grass.”

“I need to move them up into their summer range as soon as possible, assuming I can find someone to help.”

“You run this entire ranch with
one
employee?”

Again, that faint flicker of a smile that made him wish he could bring back the beautiful smile he remembered from their college days. “Yep.”

She drove across the wide, graveled parking area between the barns and the fenced yard surrounding the main house, and pulled to a stop next to a log building set back in a stand of pines. It was a good fifty feet long, with porches at both ends and cheerful red curtains at all eight of the multipaned windows facing the road. “Cabin One” and “Cabin Two” had been carved into small wooden signs hung at either end of the building.

“You’ve met Danny—he’s our seasonal guide. He only takes pack trips as scheduled, so he doesn’t live here. Otherwise, it’s just Gus, Sofia and me.”

A grizzled old man hobbled out onto the porch of Cabin Two, at the east end of the bunkhouse, shielding his eyes against the cool, late May sunshine. His faded jeans looked as old as he did; his bright purple Colorado Rockies T-shirt an incongruent contrast to his battered western straw hat and dusty boots.

“That’s
him?
”

Tessa nodded as she opened her door and stepped out of the truck. “Gus worked for my mother before I was born.”

Levering himself out of the truck cab, Josh collected his crutches and shoved the door shut. He held his breath as Gus tentatively navigated the stairs of the porch one halting step at a time. “How old
is
he?”

“He won’t tell.” She watched Gus with obvious affection. “Now and then Sofia and I try to convince him to retire, but he won’t do that either, so he mostly helps here at the home place. He usually moves better than that, but his horse fell on him yesterday.”

Josh winced, imagining those lean, brittle old bones crushed beneath twelve-hundred pounds of horseflesh.

“Before you say it—no, I didn’t think he should be putting in a day on horseback. But Gus has a mind of his own, and he won’t give an inch when it comes to avoiding something because of his age.”

When Gus finally reached Tessa’s truck, the razor sharp glitter in his narrowed eyes certainly didn’t reflect any desire for sympathy. “So, you brought him here, after all.”

“Just as we discussed,” she said evenly. “He won’t be in the way. We’ll just set an extra plate.”

Gus snorted, holding Josh’s gaze with a fierce, protective expression for a long moment—a clear masculine challenge—before turning to grab Josh’s duffel bag out of the back of the truck.

He limped his way up the steps at the west end of the building. “Changed the sheets. Brought towels. Ain’t a resort, but it oughta do.”

Josh awkwardly ascended the steps with his crutches, hopping on one foot, all too aware that Tessa was right behind him in case he fell.

That alone forced him on, even after his cast rapped sharply against the edge of the top step, sending waves of pain ricocheting up his leg.

From the open doorway, Gus watched his approach with his arms clamped over his chest, and Josh had the distinct feeling that Gus would enjoy seeing him end up in a heap in the dirt—and would be even happier if Josh simply packed up and left.

Odd behavior, for a man he’d never met until today. But then, he hadn’t exactly felt friendly vibes from Tessa, either.

“You know,” he said as he finally made it up to the porch. “This probably wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe I should just—”

The porch started to tilt. Dark spots swam in front of his eyes…

And then the bright sunshine turned to black.

Please, God, help me get through this.

Tessa’s silent prayer probably didn’t surprise God, but it certainly surprised her. After a decade of stony silence on her part, she needed help—and needed it from a Higher Source. Fast.

And it was all because of the man stretched out on the rustic, pine-framed sofa in Cabin One, who was now regarding her with troubled eyes.

“I
never
pass out,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

“Of course not.”

“I—” Confusion flashed in his eyes. “I…”

“You fainted dead away on the stairs a few minutes ago. Gus and I hauled you in here, and we’re both hoping you’ll agree to stay horizontal.”

He reached up to touch the back of his head and his frown deepened. “But…”

“I caught you, but—hey, what are you now, six-two, two hundred plus? We went down like a felled tree. It could’ve been much worse, but you’ll probably have a bump on the back of your head tomorrow.”

So would she, along with bruises on her back and shoulder after trying to cushion his fall, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Sorry.” He shook his head sharply as if to clear his thoughts, then winced.

“I called the ER a minute ago. They said they told you to avoid stairs for the next ten days and to be really quiet, given the type of surgery you had. Also, they told me that they gave you some prescription pain meds before you left, and those can make you foggy.” She leaned forward in her chair and tapped the patient instruction sheets laying on the pine coffee table. “I found these on the floor of my truck. You should’ve told me before we tried getting you in here.”

“I think those meds must’ve hit on the way out here. I…” He frowned. “I usually don’t take anything stronger than Tylenol.”

A corner of his mouth lifted in a woozy smile, and with that boyish lock of dark hair tipping over his forehead and those dark, thick eyelashes, she could imagine him as a child. One who’d probably been able to charm himself out of trouble every time.

Maybe that charm had worked on her back in college, but it would have no impact on her now.
None.
She was going to get through these next weeks just fine, and then happily wave goodbye.

She leaned back in her chair. “Gus went to feed the livestock. Now that you aren’t looking quite as groggy, I need to go help him. You’ll be okay?”

He nodded.

“You’ll stay put? On this sofa until I get back?”

His weak smile widened. “You betcha.”

A laugh escaped before she could catch it. “You betcha? Where’ve you been all these years, Minnesota?”

“Middle East, mos’ly,” he mumbled. The flash of humor in his eyes faded. “My Lara was from Minnesota. Fiancée…til she died.”

Fiancée?
And the poor woman had
died?

Tessa had been angry at him for years over his blissful ignorance of what had happened to her, but apparently he’d encountered sorrow, too.