“You have me, too. You’re a good friend. If you need me for anything, I’ll be there,” he said.
“Thanks.” She kept her condition to herself for now. She wasn’t ready to share.
“Night.” Preston ended the call, and Sophie stretched to place the cell phone on the antique nightstand. It sounded like her old friend was saying good-bye. Sadness at what might have been slid through her before she rolled over to count sheep.
She reached the two hundredth white fluffy animal before an odd smell tickled her nose. She lifted her head to survey the air. Hazy beams of light filtered through the gauzy curtains and lent an ethereal glow to the old-fashioned room. Brass glinted off bedrails, and shadows hummed along the edges to settle into the corners.
The smell grew stronger.
Smoke. Oh God, it was smoke.
Gasping, Sophie jumped out of bed and leaned one hand on the night table as the world spun around her. Several deep breaths had the room righting itself so she could hurry to the door and pull it open. Smoke billowed up from the stairway. Flames licked the wooden handrail.
Panic shot through her.
She slammed the door closed and grabbed her sweatshirt off the flowered chair to cover the space under the door. Thank goodness Mrs. Shiller was out of town. She grabbed her cell and dialed 911, giving the address to the operator before yanking on jeans, a sweater, and her boots. Then she ran to the window and pushed it all the way open before turning back to the room. The solid door kept too much smoke from entering, and she figured she had a few minutes to figure out the safest way down.
She threw out her suitcase and pencils, watching as they bounced two stories down onto the thick grass and counting how long it took for them to hit the ground. Too long. She didn’t know the exact distance, but she’d definitely break some bones if she fell out of the tree. Smoke wafted out the front of the house to cover the ground in a fine haze.
From a distance, sirens pierced the night.
Sophie finally swung one leg over the ledge of the window. “We can do this, baby,” she said, eyeing the nearby thick branches of the statuesque bull pine. She’d never climbed a tree but had studied gravity in a physics class. Gravity would win over wishful hopes any day. She reached for the closest branch, her plan formulating as she moved.
Flashing blue and red lights stopped her mid-reach as the sheriff’s truck slammed to a stop and both Jake and Quinn jumped out. More shrill sirens sounded in the night.
“Sophie!” Jake yelled as he barreled across the grass to look up at the window, Quinn on his heels.
“I’m fine, Jake,” Sophie called down, her white knuckles on the window frame starting to ache. “Catch these, would you?” She tossed down her sketchbooks, which Jake snatched out of the air and placed near the base of the tree.
Quinn said something into a big black radio just as a red fire truck screeched to a stop and men in full gear scrambled off.
Jake’s eyes held Sophie’s captive as he murmured something to his brother, who nodded and turned to direct the crew. Then Jake jogged to the tree and jumped to clasp the bottom branch before swinging his legs up over his head toward another branch, crossing his ankles and levering himself into the tree.
Sophie held her breath as Jake easily climbed branch after branch and sent leaves and bark cascading down to the ground.
Suddenly, he stood even with the window. “You ever climb a tree, Sunshine?”
Chapter Twenty
Sophie shook her head, tears surprising her as they slid down her face.
Scratches marred Jake’s hands and bark wove through his hair, yet his grin was genuine. “Okay. You’re going to reach out to that branch”—he pointed to the branch she had been aiming for—“and inch along until you get even with my hands.” He nodded to the spot. “Then, when I touch your wrists, you get ready to move quickly, okay?” His voice stayed soft, soothing.
Sophie jumped as her door crackled into fire. Smoke filled the area behind her.
“Now,” Jake coaxed as he shifted his weight on a straining branch.
Quinn took up a position directly below Sophie as she leaned forward and grasped the branch with both hands.
Following Jake’s directions, she inched her hands and arms farther toward the trunk of the tree until her knees sat on the windowsill. She couldn’t go any farther without putting all of her weight on the branch.
“Good job. Now this is a thirty-year-old tree, very sturdy, very safe. But that branch you’re holding won’t hold your entire weight for very long. Do you see the branch about three feet below it? The really thick one?” Jake pointed.
“Yes.” Smoke filled her nose, and she coughed, her eyes watering from the sting.
“Good.” Jake encircled both her wrists with his hands, balancing his weight while standing on two bowing branches. “So sweetheart,” he said, speaking with confidence as more smoke spilled out from the window, “you need to hold this branch and swing your feet onto the lower one. It’ll hold you all day. Ready?”
Sophie turned panicked eyes on Jake and tried to pull her hands back.
Jake shook his head. “The fire’s behind you, Soph. You have to move—now.”
“It’s okay,” Quinn called up from the ground. “I’m right under you. If worse comes to worse, you’ll land on me.”
Jake tightened his grip as the firemen slammed through the front door armed with axes and an uncoiled hose. “Now, Sophie.”
“Jake, the baby.” Sophie clenched the branch with a quick look down. Way down to where Quinn stood patiently.
“Babies don’t like smoke.” Jake’s voice lowered. “Besides, ours would love to flatten Uncle Quinn, I’m sure.”
Sophie tried to breathe shallowly and not take in too much smoke. With a quick prayer, she seized the branch and swung from the safety of the window, her heart all but beating out of her rib cage.
Her feet hit the lower branch and slid off, her boots scraping for purchase.
Panic squashed the breath from her lungs.
Sophie cried out as her legs dangled, and the sound of a branch snapping in two filled the air. It disintegrated in clumps of bark between her hands. Jake’s hands tightened on her wrists as he held her in midair before he swung her so her feet could again find purchase. She caught the lower branch and pressed her legs forward until it balanced in the center of her feet.
She stood for a second, her feet on the branch, her wrists in Jake’s broad hands, before he tugged her toward the trunk and wrapped her arms around the tree.
Sophie rested her head against the scratchy bark and her knees began to tremble.
“Okay, almost done now,” Jake whispered into her ear as he positioned his body behind hers. “See that branch to the right, about a foot down from you?”
Sophie twisted her head to look. “Yes.”
“Hold onto the trunk and just step one foot down to it.” Jake pressed even closer. “I’ve got you, I promise.”
Sophie stepped down, her palms scraping the bark as she fought for balance. Then she sighed in relief as she lowered her other foot. The crackle of fire and shattering glass boomed around them. The process continued until they both stood on bottom branches, about seven feet from the ground. At Jake’s quiet order, Sophie sat, her hands gripping the trunk while he jumped to the grass.
“Grab my arms and jump.” Jake reached up with both hands.
Sophie reached down, clasped broad arms, and let gravity have its way. Her feet met wet grass for a mere second before Jake scooped her in his arms and strode for the paramedic van on the street.
Sophie coughed lightly into his neck, her stomach heaving as Jake lowered her on the tailgate of his truck and a uniformed paramedic placed oxygen over her nose and mouth. Thunder crackled in the distance, and a light rain peppered the ground. Jake pushed Sophie farther into the back of the
truck, into dryness.
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, the scratches on her hands searing. Red and blue lights swirled as the firefighters rolled up their hose and the stench of burned wood filled the air. She began to shake violently, her teeth chattering behind the mask.
“The fire’s out,” Jake said, his eyes on Quinn and a sooty firefighter as they surveyed the damage from the porch. He shifted so he stood directly between the smoldering walls and Sophie, and she wondered if it were intentional or instinctive. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. I don’t think I inhaled much of the smoke. The baby should be fine,” she gasped.
“I was worried about you.” Jake didn’t turn as he spoke.
“How did you get here so fast?” she asked.
Jake straightened as his brother approached. “Poker night at Hawk’s. I was there when Quinn got the call.”
“The fire was intentional.” Quinn didn’t waste any words as he reached Jake and cast a concerned gaze toward Sophie. “Most people know Mrs. Shiller is out of town.”
“You sure?” Jake lowered his voice.
“Yes. Typical Molotov cocktail through the front window.” Both men turned to study her—twin sets of deep onyx eyes with different expressions. Quinn was all cop, curious and hard. Jake’s expression spoke of something dark, something heated.
Yet one thing remained the same—both were pissed.
“What?” Sophie scooted to the edge of the vehicle, letting rain splatter against her legs. “You think this was on purpose?”
Quinn nodded. “I know it was. Have you noticed anything odd, anyone following you while you’ve been here?”
“I haven’t seen anyone following me. But…” She took a deep breath. “Somebody has left notes on the Jeep window for me.”
Quinn placed a restraining hand on his brother’s arm as Jake’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Notes?” he asked.
“Um, yeah. Basically saying that the development was a bad idea,” she said.
“And?” Jake growled it.
The notes had seemed silly and not threatening. “And that I should get out of town,” she said. “They were more goofy than scary. Well, mostly.”
Jake swore under his breath while Quinn cast a glance around at the milling spectators on the street and nearby lawns.
“I don’t understand, I mean, the commissioners denied the application.” Sophie’s temper stirred. “There won’t be a golf course.”
Quinn shook his head. “The tribe has hired you to build a golf course.”
Sophie shrugged, wary of the fury on Jake’s face. This wasn’t her fault. She turned her attention to Quinn. “I still have the notes. They’re over in the suitcase I threw out the window.” The muscle ticking in Jake’s sooty jaw captured her gaze.
“Stay with her, Jake. Let me do my job.” Quinn stepped around his brother and headed for the still smoldering house.
“I want to see them,” Jake called to Quinn’s retreating back.
“I know,” Quinn tossed back over his shoulder, his legs eating the distance to the pile under the bull pine.
Jake’s eyes bored holes in her as his arms slowly crossed over his broad chest.
“I didn’t think it was a big deal.” Sophie answered his unasked question, snapping the words out.
The muscle in his jaw swelled. “How many notes?”
“Three,” she admitted.
“When?” he snapped.
Sophie was saved from answering when Quinn returned with her suitcase in one hand, the other pulling papers from beneath his jacket. Two dark, masculine heads dipped to read the notes in the muted light of the paramedic’s vehicle. Sophie shivered at the looks on their faces once they finished reading.
Quinn nodded at her. “Get her home. I’ll follow up with questions in the morning.”
Jake reached for her.
“No.” Sophie moved farther into the vehicle as lightning ripped across the sky.
“You’re coming with me.” Jake hauled her out of the vehicle and carried her to his truck, where a deputy finished loading her possessions into the backseat.
“Damn it, Jake.” Sophie fought the urge to kick him. Hard.
Jake didn’t reply as he started the ignition and pulled past the emergency vehicles onto the rain-drenched road. Sophie pouted in her seat, determined to ignore him. He drove several miles in silence before speaking. “If you weren’t pregnant, you’d absolutely be wearing my handprint on your ass right now.”
Her butt actually clenched. “Good thing you knocked me up, then.”
His dark gaze set a fluttering in her stomach. “Remind me to Google if spanking will hurt a pregnant woman.”
“You don’t scare me.” Which was a complete freakin’ lie. The guy was kind of scary…but he’d never hurt her.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the notes?” he asked.
“They weren’t really threats,” Sophie huffed back.
“So it wasn’t a big deal.” Sarcasm wove through his every word.
Her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the storm wage outside the truck. “Right. Frankly, I didn’t even think to tell you.”
“Really,” he drawled.
“Yes, really.” Heat rose to her face. “This was just a quick fling, remember? A couple of weeks, then I was gone. Out of your life.”
As they reached his home, Jake slammed the truck into park and turned off the ignition with a sharp twist of his wrist. “Once you discovered you were pregnant? You didn’t think to let me know someone was threatening you?”
Sophie jumped out of the truck and headed for the house. She called over her shoulder, “They weren’t threats.” Yeah, she felt foolish for not reporting them to Quinn. No way would she admit it.
Jake followed close behind, his long strides putting her between him and the house. He pulled her to a stop, a feral glimmer in his eyes.
The fury of the storm was no match for the tempest rising inside her. “I didn’t think to tell you. This was never going to be permanent.”
“It is now,” he said.
The rain smashed her hair against her face. “Wrong. We’re exactly like this storm, Jake. Fiery, hot, even crazy. But you know what? You know the problem with sizzling summer storms?”
“No, what?” Even through the rain, his voice carried the hint of danger. Of wildness that outdid Mother Nature.
“They blow over. You settle back to enjoy the lightning show, the clap of thunder, and poof, they’re gone.” She yelled above the rising wind. “Blue sky follows along meekly, too quickly.”
“We can’t have blue sky?” His white shirt plastered against tanned muscle.
“Us? No way.” The wind almost toppled her over. “You need to let me go, Jake.”
The wind whipped his hair around his face, giving him a formidable, almost primitive look. His ancestry blazed in full force as he stood tall and firm against the gale. “Let you go? I think that’s your fucking problem, Sophie.”
“Meaning?” Her boots sunk into the mud as she struggled to keep her footing.
“Too many people have let you go.” A quick swoop and she was in his arms, struggling against him with all her might as his strong body blocked the driving wind. “Your father, the bastard, left you. The second your mother married, she dumped you in some school. Didn’t she?”
Sophie’s battle against the strong arms shielding her from the wind was in vain.
“Even Preston. Mr. Golden Boy with the Rolex. He left you here for me,” Jake said grimly.
She fought a shiver at the warm breath against her ear.
One broad boot kicked the door open. He dropped her to her feet and slammed the door against the storm, and his furious face lowered to within an inch of hers. “I’m not letting you go. What’s more, you don’t want me t
o.” Male outrage blazed through his eyes.
They stood staring at each other, dripping rain onto the stone floor and panting in uneven breaths.
“You are overbearing,” Sophie gritted out, fighting a shiver, fighting exhaustion.
“You’re an independent pain in the ass.” Jake ran a frustrated hand through his sopping hair, obviously trying to control his temper. He took a deep breath.
She glared at him.
His voice softened. “One who has been through an ordeal and needs a hot shower and comfortable bed.” He held out a hand. “Truce? At least for the night?” His words contrasted with the hard glint in his eye. He was raring for a fight.
Sophie slowly took his hand, her energy gone. She wasn’t up to a fight. At least not right now. “All right. Just for the night.”
Chapter Twenty-one
The low hum of male voices awoke Sophie the next morning. The night was a blur. She had taken a shower and then fallen asleep in Jake’s big bed before her head even hit the pillow. With a moan, she snuggled farther into the bed and tried to go back to sleep.
“It’s time to get up.” Jake suddenly filled the doorway. “I know you’re awake.”
“No.” The pillow muffled her voice.
Jake moved into the room. “Yes.”
“I need sleep,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed.
“It seems we’ve had this discussion before.” Jake chuckled. “Quinn is here and has questions for you. Get dressed and come on out.”
Sophie groaned.
“Unless you want him to interview you in here,” Jake offered.
Sophie glared through one slightly opened eyelid. “Fine. Just give me a minute.”
“I will. Get up, sweetheart. We have a lot to talk about.” He retraced his steps out of the room.
Sophie sighed and opened both eyes to muted tones of navy and tan and sensual paintings. Her possessions perched against the far wall. Jake must’ve brought them in earlier. She rolled herself to a sitting position before gingerly standing. The room spun and then settled. She headed for the attached bath.
A warm shower brought some life to her limbs, and she felt marginally better after dressing in comfortable jeans and her favorite green T-shirt. She yanked her curls into a ponytail and ran pink lip gloss over her lips before heading out to face the men waiting for her. All three of them.
Montana Mavericks: a hot cowboy collection Page 16