by Cindy Dees
* * *
Chloe had a rough day. She was exhausted from the day before and Sloane wasn’t about to take any chances with the child’s still-fragile health. She insisted on keeping Little Bug at home and quiet all day, which turned out to be a gigantic undertaking.
It was approaching 10:00 p.m. before Chloe finally fell asleep on top of Sloane in the big armchair in the living room. Exhausted herself, Sloane wasn’t about to risk waking Chloe by carrying her back to her bed. She would let the kiddo sleep here for a while, let her get good and unconscious, before tucking her into bed.
No surprise, Sloane’s eyelids got heavy immediately, too. She would just take a little catnap while cuddling with Chloe...
Sloane jerked awake as Chloe coughed on top of her.
She remembered abruptly where she was. Chloe coughed once more. Oh, Lord. Please let her not be getting sick again. The last thing either of them needed was a relapse with that awful virus—
Sloane frowned. Why did her ceiling look so black? And why was it so warm in here?
She sat up carefully, shifting Chloe’s head to her shoulder as she kicked down the footrest and sat up.
Ohmigod. That was smoke.
Had she left the oven on, or a pot of something on the stove? God knew, she’d been absentminded recently, what with Chloe’s illness and Bill Gunther spying on her. She stood up, and realized a pall of smoke, several inches deep, hung near the ceiling. Cripes. How long had she been asleep in the chair with Chloe?
What was that noise? It sounded like the furnace fan was running too loudly. Which might explain why it was so hot in the house. Maybe the thermostat had broken?
She padded into the kitchen in search of the scorched, forgotten food, but the stove was turned off. Frowning, she backed out of the kitchen and headed for the utility closet in the hall between Chloe’s bedroom and hers. What was going on with the furnace?
As she approached the utility room door, she halted, staring in shock. The smoke was coming from her bedroom, seeping around the door in thick black ribbons. They rolled up from the floor and crept around the sides of the wood panel, and a sheet of smoke poured down from the top of the door frame like an ethereal waterfall, and then rose to join the pall of smoke hanging even more thickly in the hallway.
She reached for the door and her palm touched the doorknob. Searing pain ripped through her hand and she jerked back in shock. Her palm was bright red and burning like fire.
Fire.
Ohmigod. FIRE!
She ran down the hallway with Chloe, as the ceiling burst into flames over her head all at once. A thousand tongues of fire licked at the smoke, orange chrysanthemum petals of flame, layered one on top of the other, devouring the ceiling in a gout of heat almost too hot to stand.
Sloane ran like she’d never run in her life, flying toward the front door, the flames right on her heels. A puff of violent wind hit her in her face. It whooshed behind her, and a deafening explosion ripped through her house. It was accompanied by a flash of heat at her back that felt as if it charred the skin off her body.
Chloe began to cough and cry, the keening of a child’s terror.
Another thunderous sound deafened her, this time the tearing of wood and the scream of metal warping, as if the entire back end of her house had ripped apart. She looked over her shoulder frantically, and the crackling, hissing, breathing fire consumed her hallway and roared into her living room like a furious dragon.
She tore open the front door, heedless of the pain in her hand, and flew down the front steps. The next-door neighbor to her right was already outside, talking urgently on his cell phone.
The neighbor hurried over to her. “The fire department is on its way. Is there anyone else inside?”
“No!” Sloane cried over the unbelievable noise of her house burning.
“Let me get you some shoes and a coat. You two must be freezing.”
Only then did it dawn on Sloane that she was barefoot in the snow, and that she and Chloe were wearing only their pajamas. She hugged Chloe tight and turned so her daughter couldn’t see their home being destroyed.
Chloe was crying in earnest now, and Sloane realized tears were streaming down her face as well. She would never forget that explosion of flames over her head and the fear that her baby was going to die. She hadn’t feared for herself, but shock was starting to set in, and she was shivering so hard she could barely hold Chloe.
The neighbor came out with a pair of rubber boots that were way too big for Sloane. But they were dry and lined with fleece. The guy draped a thick wool blanket around her and Chloe. It staved off the cold, but it didn’t do a thing to slow down her shivering.
A wail of sirens, a lot of them, split the night, and in a matter of seconds chaos reigned in the street. Four fire trucks pulled up, two ambulances and a bunch of police cars. Sloane searched the crowd for Liam’s face but didn’t see it.
Someone led her and Chloe over to the back of an ambulance and checked them both over. A medic spread salve on her hand and wrapped a rayon bandage around it, then taped gauze over that.
Chloe was given a few puffs of oxygen from a tank, but she threw a screaming fit at the mask over her face, and the medic, laughing, declared Chloe’s lungs just fine.
A fireman came over to ask her what had happened, and Sloane quickly relayed the terrifying chain of events that had transpired upon awakening to discover her bedroom was on fire.
The fireman nodded tersely and talked quickly into a radio, something about rollover fires and the back bedroom as the origin point. He warned about a flashover fire and then moved away from her.
Sloane was just about to stand up and go see how bad the fire was when a large shape loomed in front of her and strong arms went around both her and Chloe.
“Thank God you’re alive,” Liam rasped. “Are you two okay?”
“I burned my hand a little, but that’s it.”
“When I heard the address of a major house fire over my police scanner, my heart stopped. I got here as fast as I could,” Liam murmured into her hair.
His heart was actually pounding like a jackhammer beneath Sloane’s ear.
“Let’s get you out of here,” he said grimly. “There’s nothing more you can do here tonight.”
“But my house. Shouldn’t I check on it or something?”
“The fire department won’t let you near it, and when the fire burns out, I’ve already told the fire chief I want a full arson investigation.”
“Arson?” She leaned back to stare up at him.
“C’mon. Let’s get Chloe inside where it’s warm. The cold can’t be good for her.”
That motivated Sloane to move. Liam looped a protective arm around her shoulders and guided her out of the maze of fire hoses, vehicles and people. She made the mistake of looking back over her shoulder and gaped in dismay.
Her entire house was engulfed in flames that shot up into the night like a gigantic bonfire.
“My home!” she gasped.
Liam gently but firmly turned her away from the blaze and urged her into motion once more. “It’s just stuff. You and Chloe are safe and unharmed. Nothing else matters. Nothing.”
He was no doubt right, but that was her entire life back there. And it was gone. All of it. She had nothing left. Just Chloe. Her shock deepened until a blanket of numbness enveloped her.
Only one thought stood out in stark relief against the shock. Thank God Chloe is safe. She hugged her daughter close, abjectly grateful that the two of them had been in the living room when the fire started.
What if she’d been asleep in her bedroom? Would she have been overcome by smoke? Unable to get to Chloe and get her out before the fire reached Chloe’s room?
She’d been so lucky not to be asleep in her bed...
The house was brand-new. How on earth had it caught on
fire like that? And why her bedroom? Was it a wiring problem? The furnace? Or something else...
“I don’t understand,” she mumbled as Liam helped her into his truck.
“I’m afraid I do,” he responded tightly as he climbed in his seat.
“What do you mean?”
“Later,” he bit out. “Let’s get you and Chloe someplace safe. Do you two have any clothes out at your brother’s place?”
“Chloe does. She stays with Wyatt and Bailey fairly often, and we ended up leaving a few things out there for her.”
“Perfect.”
Sloane looked over at Liam in confusion. He sounded angry. Enough so that she reflexively retreated into her emotional shell. She’d spent too many years around Ivan and his temper, apparently.
The drive was silent, and Chloe actually fell asleep in her arms before they arrived at the ranch. Liam was back to his usual calm self by the time they pulled into the Crooked C and parked by the main house. He told her to stay in the warm truck while he woke up someone.
He banged on the door for a while, and she watched dully as lights came on in the ranch house and the front door opened. She recognized Wyatt’s tall figure in the doorway. He and Liam exchanged brief words, and then Wyatt disappeared. More lights turned on as Liam came to get her and Chloe.
Liam lifted Chloe out of Sloane’s arms and carried the toddler into the house. Sloane went first, leading him to a guest room and turning down the blankets and sheets in the bed. Gently, Liam laid Chloe down.
The toddler half woke and reached up to hug Liam. He hugged her back and kissed her forehead before pulling up the blankets and tucking them around her chin. Sloane fought back an urge to cry at the sight. Ivan had never tucked Chloe in, let alone hugged and kissed her.
“I scared of monsters,” Chloe announced.
“I’m a policeman. I catch monsters and put them in jail. No monsters will come around while I’m here. Okay?”
“’Kay. ’Night, Lee-Mum,” Chloe mumbled.
“Good night, Squirt. Sweet dreams.”
As Liam straightened, smiling down fondly at Chloe, Sloane wrapped her arm around his waist in silent gratitude. He looped an arm over her shoulder as they waited beside Chloe’s bed for a minute to make sure she went back to sleep. When it was clear the toddler had, indeed, crashed, Liam guided Sloane from the room and closed the door behind them.
“Snuffles!” Sloane wailed under her breath. “He was in Chloe’s bedroom. She’s going to be devastated if she loses him!”
“I’ll take her to a toy store and buy her a new stuffed toy in the morning,” Liam promised.
“Is it possible Snuffles survived the fire?” Sloane asked hopefully. Her mind knew what she’d seen, but her heart was having a hard time accepting that everything she owned—everything—was gone.
Liam didn’t answer. He merely gathered her into his arms for a long hug. As if he knew exactly what she needed, he stood there with her in the hallway until she began to cry.
It hit her all again. She and Chloe had nearly died. It had been sheer dumb luck that she wasn’t asleep in her bedroom when it went up in flames.
Yes. She’d lost everything. But she had good insurance and stuff could be replaced. Thank God she’d spent much of her free time last year scanning and uploading all her family photographs to an internet storage site. Her important legal documents were in a safety deposit box at a bank.
The rest of what she’d lost was memories. And she could make new ones. But having to rebuild her life from scratch was overwhelming right now, coming hard on the heels of a bad scare.
She sobbed on Liam’s chest until he scooped her up, carried her into the living room and sat down on the sofa with her in his lap. She was aware of Wyatt and Bailey peeking into the room, but they prudently left her and Liam alone. She would have to remember to thank them later.
When she’d cried the worst of her shock and grief out, Liam silently offered her a handkerchief.
“Who still carries a hankie in this day and age?” she hiccuped.
“Call me old-fashioned,” Liam murmured. “It came in handy tonight, though, didn’t it?”
She smiled up at him as she dabbed at her face. She had no doubt she looked like a wreck but didn’t much care as long as Liam wasn’t frightened off. And he didn’t seem to be as he gazed at her, relief shining in his eyes.
“Can you handle a little serious conversation?” he asked.
“I think so.”
“I heard you tell the fire chief how the fire started. It was in your bedroom, correct?”
“As far as I can tell.”
“The first firefighters on scene said it was burning like an accelerant had been poured on the floor and lit.”
“Accelerant?”
“Something like gasoline or kerosene.”
“You’re saying the fire was set intentionally?” Sloane gasped. As soon as she said the words aloud, she knew them to be true. She didn’t need to see Liam’s sober nod to know it.
“Who?” she managed to choke out. “Gunther wouldn’t...would he?”
“I highly doubt it. He bragged about not doing any rough stuff as a private investigator. Complained about how much more money he could make if he did. I’ll have the Denver PD pick him up and find out where he was tonight, though.”
“If not him, then who?” Sloane asked.
She stared at Liam, and he stared back.
Someone was trying to kill her.
She said in a hush, “I’m starting to think the SUV that jumped the curb and nearly hit us in Denver wasn’t an accident.”
“I never thought it was,” Liam replied. “I always thought that SUV was targeting you.”
“Why me?”
“That’s what I plan to find out. I’m going to catch whoever’s doing this and put him away for a long, long time. I promise you that, Sloane.”
The grim undertone in his voice didn’t bode well for her would-be killer. She threw her arms around Liam’s neck and held on tightly. Eventually, she whispered, “I don’t deserve you. I’m so thankful you came into my life.”
“Stop with the not deserving me stuff, already.”
She turned him loose enough to lean back and look into his eyes. “You’re always there for me when I need you. You always have been.”
“And I always will be,” he added.
Did he—? Did that mean—?
“Hey, you two. I’ve got some food heated up if you’re hungry. My mother always said there was nothing in the world her homemade chili couldn’t fix.”
Sloane looked up at Bailey and smiled a little. “What would I do without you?”
“Well, you’d be a whole lot skinnier, for one thing,” Bailey retorted and said to Liam, “Bring your woman into the kitchen so I can feed her. I’ll ladle up a bowl of chili for you, too, if you’re hungry.”
His woman? Sloane started to mentally protest, but then stopped. She actually loved the idea of being Liam’s woman. He was the kind of man who would never ask her to be less than who she was. He wouldn’t care if she was strong and independent most of the time, wouldn’t be threatened by her having a career and being darned good at it. Plus, Chloe adored him, and he seemed to adore Chloe back.
Liam stood up and set Sloane on her feet. Her body slid down the length of his, and as always, she responded to him like a flower to sunlight, with warmth unfolding inside her, making her feel safe and alive. He held her long enough to drop a quick kiss on her lips.
She captured his mouth with hers, though, and asked for more. Her arms went around his neck and she leaned into him hungrily, needing the affirmation that she had really survived the fire and come out the other side. He readily gave it to her, turning the kiss into a deep, drugging melding of hearts and souls that thoroughly reminded her she was, indeed, alive.
> Sexual tension filled Liam, flowing into her. Hot, molten need tightened her belly all of a sudden, and the kiss changed tenor completely, becoming urgent, a slashing of tongues and deep, hungry explorations.
Liam broke the kiss, breathing hard. “In the first place, we don’t have a room here that I can drag you off to. In the second place, Bailey will be back soon to see why we didn’t follow her to the kitchen. In the third place, I can’t think when you kiss me like that. And I need to fire on all cylinders mentally for a little while longer.”
“Why?”
“I need to formally interview you.”
“Sounds fun,” she flirted, need still riding her hard.
“Stop that,” he chided her. “This is serious.”
Her moment of levity faded. “I know,” she sighed.
Fox burst into the house just then. “Sis, are you okay? And Chloe?”
“We’re both fine. My house is a total loss, though.”
“I don’t care about that as long as you two are safe.” He wrapped her up in a relieved hug.
“Do you want to stay at my place while you figure out what you’re doing next?” Fox offered.
Slone smiled at him in gratitude. “For tonight, I’ve already got Chloe down in the guest room here. I’d hate to move her again. I honestly haven’t given any thought to what comes next. Can I get back to you on that?”
“Of course. Just know I’m here for you.”
Thank goodness for all her family. What would she do without them?
Using his cell phone app, Liam recorded her statement as she described the evening’s events again in detail. He questioned her about the timeline of when she fell asleep—what time it was when she woke up, how long it took her to check the kitchen and make her way to her bedroom door, and how long it took the first fire truck to arrive.
Fox, Wyatt and Bailey listened in horror as Liam questioned her about who might be trying to kill her. She declined to guess, citing that anyone she named would be pure speculation on her part.