Welcome to Harmony

by Jodi Thomas

  “Right now, Alex, we’ve got a fire to fight, but when this is over,” he whispered as Trooper Davis started toward them, “we’ve got unfinished business.” He took a deep breath, loving the way she smelled. “And believe me, we will have time one day.”

  She didn’t say a word, but her body brushing his was enough to make him hotter than the fire ever had.

  Brad flipped on the bar of lights on top of the Dodge. Hank moved away from her and began folding up the ropes.

  “Thanks for pulling me up,” he said. “Remind me to teach you to use the slower speed.”

  She stared at Brad, figuring out where the problem must have been in Hank’s plan. “How about I shoot one of your volunteers?”

  “No need. He knows he’s now an ex-volunteer.” Hank tossed gear in the bed of the pickup. “How’d you know I was here?”

  “Andy patched me through when the state parks service started asking questions. He told me about where he thought you were, and I headed this way while I talked.” She looked at the rim of the canyon, glowing now as if dawn were just beginning to break. “What did you find?”

  “It’s growing, feeding off dried trees and brush. I’m guessing, but I think it’ll break the rim before dawn, and then we’ll have a full fight on our hands.”

  “Worst ever?”

  He met her eyes. “Worst ever. You up for it?”

  She nodded, and he realized he loved this wild, wonderful, brave woman.

  Chapter 40

  TYLER WRIGHT SAT IN THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE. HE’D ALREADY tried the door. It was locked. At first he’d heard yelling and phones ringing, but then it grew quiet. The thought crossed his mind that everyone had left him behind, but he knew that would be too much to hope for.

  He’d been worried for the first hour, eaten all the old candy in the sheriff’s candy bowl the second hour, and finally slept a while in her chair with his feet on her desk. Which wasn’t comfortable at all.

  Tyler thought of trying to contact Katherine on Alex’s computer, but doubted he could get logged on, and if he did he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave a trace to Katherine on the sheriff’s files. If he was in trouble, he might somehow pull Katherine in, and Tyler would face a firing squad before he’d tell them about his hazel-eyed friend. They had this private world no one else would ever know about.

  He groaned at his own imagination. He had no idea why the law was keeping him, but he doubted he’d be shot for speeding. Hank had said they needed his help, but something didn’t feel right about that. The sheriff, or rather that angry highway patrolman, wouldn’t lock him up if they wanted his help. Davis had given him a look that said he’d already convicted him of something terrible and was just waiting around until some judge pronounced sentence.

  Bored and nervous, Tyler began walking around the sheriff’s office, examining everything. He discovered a closed vent over the door that when opened allowed him to hear conversations going on at the dispatch office across the hall.

  He could hear the dispatcher calling in firemen for duty and giving directions to a meet-up spot a few miles north of the Matheson ranch.

  Tyler moved a cell phone aside and unfolded a map sitting on the round table. He had no trouble finding the spot where the dispatcher was sending people.

  The markings on the map interested him far more than the dispatcher’s conversations. He pulled up a chair and tried to figure out what all the Xs and circles meant on the state map.

  With his knowledge, it didn’t take him long, and the meaning frightened him more than Trooper Davis ever could.

  The Xs were burn sites . . . fires . . . each marked with a date. And—he held his breath—they were moving in a circle around Harmony.

  The fires must have been set. Nature would never play such a game.

  Another hour passed as Tyler read the details of every report as if it were the world’s best mystery novel. He guessed the sheriff hadn’t left it for any outsider’s eyes, but Tyler considered it like magazines in a doctor’s office. If it was there, he could read it.

  Hard fear settled in his stomach. Whoever was setting the fires wasn’t some kid playing with matches. He reminded Tyler of a hunter circling his prey. Two, maybe three more fires and the circle would be complete. What would the madman with his weapon of fire do then?

  Tyler knew the roads, even ones not marked on any map. He could see the arsonist’s pattern. Finally, he stood and moved to stare out into the midnight sky. His eyes burned from reading, but he still smiled. He knew why they must have called him in. He could help. He could show them the back roads the man setting the fires would have most likely taken. Maybe for them the police could find a clue, like tire tracks or maybe even footprints.

  Tyler wished he’d watched more of those detective shows and fewer dancing shows.

  Some of the fire points of origin were close to roads, but others were well off even the known unpaved roads. Whoever was setting them knew the area well. Maybe he’d grown up around here, or maybe he’d studied detailed maps like only the police and fire departments usually saw.

  “Or maybe,” Tyler said out loud, “he was like me. Collecting maps, studying roads, exploring.”

  Tyler didn’t like the idea that any part of him could be like someone who would cause damage for no reason, but he felt he might be able to see inside a tiny part of the arsonist’s mind and, in so doing, help in the capture of such a man.

  The cell phone on the table began to vibrate. Tyler hesitated. He knew it was Hank’s phone. He also knew the chief had forgotten it.

  Slowly, he picked it up, deciding it was probably Hank on the line wondering where he’d left his phone. In all the excitement of the fire, he might not have had time to notice it was gone until now.

  “Hello,” Tyler answered.

  “Uncle Hank?” came a small voice.

  “No, dear, this is Tyler Wright.” The caller had to be Saralynn. “Your uncle left his phone with me.”

  “Sir Knight,” she whispered, sounding like she might cry. “I’m afraid.”

  Tyler forgot all about his problems. The little princess needed him. “What’s frightened you, dear?” He glanced up at the clock and noticed it was almost two in the morning. Far too late for a four-year-old to be up.

  “A man called and told my gram that we all have to leave our house by dawn. He said there may be a fire coming our way.”

  Tyler looked at the map. He wished he could lie and tell her everything was going to be all right, but if the wind was out of the north, it looked like the fire might just blow straight over the Matheson ranch.

  “Is that true?” she whispered.

  “It could be, child. But don’t you worry, your mom and grandmother and aunts will get you out, and you will all be safe.” Tyler knew Hank was out on the rim of the canyon right now with more than twenty men watching, waiting, ready. “If the fire does come, it will go around your house, but the smoke will make your eyes water and a princess’s eyes should never water, so they’ll take you somewhere to wait until everything is all right.”

  He heard a sniffle.

  “Mom told me to go to bed, she’d come get me when it’s time to leave, but I can’t sleep. I can hear them all moving around the house.” She sounded as if she might cry again. “Will you talk to me, Sir Knight? I don’t want to be alone.”

  Tyler moved to a chair. “For as long as you like, Princess.”

  Suddenly Tyler wasn’t tired and there was nowhere he wanted to go. He was right where he needed to be.

  Chapter 41

  ALEXANDRA WATCHED THE STATE TEAMS STORM HER OFFICE just before dawn. Cars and vans full of them. The county offices of Harmony were beginning to sound like a crowd at the state fair.

  Highway patrol cars to handle traffic if smoke from the fires blocked the roads.

  The state parks service officers, whose only worry was state lands already on fire.

  A high-powered arson specialist from federal named Major Cummings, who worked o
ut of Austin. She’d flown into Amarillo, rented a car, and driven to Harmony just to make sure she’d be in place before dawn.

  Alex couldn’t even count the endless reporters asking questions and wanting to be allowed at the site to take pictures.

  The main office was packed with people, and Alex knew these were nothing compared to the numbers at the site near the canyon. She tried to make room for all of them and offer office space and chairs for all federal and state people. The place was a working beehive. Irene had come in early to pass out cups of coffee and pencils provided by the chamber of commerce.

  Andy, who’d spent the predawn hours watching for fire, was back in his chair at the phones. He jumped up from the dispatch desk and rushed toward her. Some men look good with a few days of stubble on their face. Andy Daily wasn’t one of them. He also looked like he could use one of those washers he owned. Maybe he could find a big one and just climb in, washing clothes and body at the same time.

  She backed into a corner, away from the others as Andy Daily reached her. She hoped for a little privacy, fearing what he was about to say. “You need to get some sleep,” she said, knowing she’d need to pull all the part-time people in if she could get him to surrender his headset.

  He leaned in, ignoring her comment. He was too excited to whisper. “Fire’s climbed the walls in three places. It’s into tall grass on the north side and short in two places on the south wall. We’ve got a full crisis on our hands. It’s going to take a lot more than our fire department to handle this one.”

  Alex raised her eyes to the crowd, who all seemed to breathe in at the same time. For a second the room was silent. She saw a world of different emotions in their eyes. Some frightened. Some nervous. Some excited. For the firemen, it would be a fight. For the reporters, it would be a great story.

  One woman—middle-aged, slightly overweight, with intelligent hazel eyes—caught her gaze. Alex saw wisdom in those eyes and, more important, experience that had taught her not to overreact in times like these.

  Alex nodded slightly, and the woman walked toward her. She’d been told that Major Cummings, the military’s top arson expert in the area, was good, but this lady hadn’t made a grand entrance, she’d simply walked in and gone to work on one of the break room tables. If Alex had to trust someone, this one woman would be it.

  “Can we talk in my office, Major?” Alex motioned toward her door.

  The woman picked up her briefcase. She was letting Alex take the lead, not trying to run over her authority simply because she was older. Just by the way she followed a few steps behind told Alex that she was there to help.

  Alex forgot she’d locked Tyler in hours ago. She’d unlocked the door and stepped in before she remembered.

  The major walked past her as Alex looked everywhere for the undertaker. He seemed to have vanished. Trooper Davis couldn’t have taken him to lockup. First, he didn’t have a key to her office, and second, Davis was at the site. Tyler Wright didn’t seem the type who could pick a lock, but then, he was gone.

  “I’m here to help,” Major Cummings announced. “I’ll never leak information and I’ll never sugarcoat the truth. In return, all I ask is honesty and the opportunity to help when I can.”

  Alex accepted the woman’s hand. She had bigger things to worry about than how Tyler got out of her office, plus she had a feeling that if he’d escaped, he’d probably gone home. “Thank you.” Alex met the woman’s honest stare. “I’ll do the same, Major Cummings.”

  The major smiled. “Then let’s go to work.”

  Alex quickly spread out Hank’s marked map and showed her the area.

  The major needed only a quick look to see the problem.

  As Alex closed the open window, Major Cummings stuffed the map in her case and marched toward the door, “Call me Katherine, Sheriff, and I think it’s time we head toward this fire.”

  “I’m Alex.”

  There was no more time for introductions. They had a fire to fight.

  Chapter 42

  HANK HADN’T SLEPT FOR TWENTY-FOUR HOURS, BUT HE was pumped on coffee and adrenaline. The fire came over the edge of the canyon like a warrior charging into battle. Dry grass and wind were its allies as smoke breathed out a war cry.

  He’d had word that other trucks from surrounding areas were coming in, but the fire came first. He hardly noticed the dawn as he fought through smoke and dust. His men, even those he feared would never stand in trouble, fought beside him. What they lacked in training, they made up for in spirit.

  Hank yelled orders and the men moved in with every weapon they had.

  And still, the fire spread. Twisting along the uneven edge of the canyon where they couldn’t get water. Jumping in the wind. Flames three and four feet high in the tall grass. The heat made it seem like the hottest day of the year, and the smoke seeped through the equipment.

  Half the team circled to the north to fight on the opposite rim, leaving Hank with less than half the men he needed. Trooper Davis kept yelling into the radio that more fire trucks were coming, but the fire was crawling sideways across the battle line, growing, raging, every minute.

  By the time Hank saw the first truck bouncing across the field, he already needed two more. To his horror, vans from the TV stations nearby bumped along behind the fire truck.

  “I thought I said no press!” Hank yelled at Davis.

  Davis shrugged, as if he had no control over free press.

  “Well, at least make them stay out of the way and far back.” When this was over, Hank promised himself he would have a very long, very private talk with Davis. The trooper thought he knew everything, even ordering the firemen around. In truth, he couldn’t handle his own job. He was a man who talked a good story, but didn’t walk it.

  Davis gave a mock salute as Hank cussed the man’s incompetence. The highway patrolman directed the camera crew over to Willie, the only one of the volunteers not black and sweaty.

  Closing his eyes, Hank swore under his breath, putting the pieces together. He’d already guessed that the trooper and Willie were probably related, and now he knew that Davis had brought the press in to take Willie’s picture.

  Hank had made the boy stay back for safety’s sake. He had the least training and judgment, but now it looked like he’d be the hero on the news tonight. Hank couldn’t help but wonder if Davis hadn’t planned it that way to highlight his kin. In the past few days he’d seen the two men talking several times.

  It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the fire.

  As the sun rose, Hank ordered his men to pull back a hundred yards and try again to make a stand. With shovels on shoulders, they all moved back. They were on land owned by a corporation. It had never been farmed and probably not grazed for years. There had also been no fire breaks cut . . . ever.

  While they waited for the fire to crawl toward them, they all gulped down water and rested aching muscles. Hank took inventory. They’d been fighting the fire for three hours. Two men were hurt. Three looked like they couldn’t go much longer. The fire was burning hotter, moving faster than he’d ever seen grass fires move.

  He glanced at Bob McNabb manning the radio and first-aid station. There was no need for him to yell the same questions he’d asked a dozen times. No need for Bob to report the fire still raging across the canyon. Bob just shook his head, and Hank nodded once in thanks.

  As soon as he got reinforcements, he’d order his men to rest at least two hours. If he didn’t, Hank knew he’d be dealing with more injuries than a few burns. The EMTs from the hospital were about half a mile back, working as hard as the firemen.

  Alex pulled up behind the fire truck and stepped out with a squatty woman at her side. They both marched right toward him.

  Alex did a quick introduction of the major, then asked what they could do. He didn’t miss the fact that Alexandra’s gaze never left his face. She seemed to be reassuring herself that he was all right.

  Hank described everything that had happened, but
he noticed that Major Cummings was barely listening. She began walking the grass, bending now and then as if smelling invisible flowers.

  “What’s with her?” Hank asked, too tired to be polite.

  “Federal government,” Alex answered, as if that explained everything. “Where’s this heading?”

  “Unless the wind changes, right toward my ranch. The good news is we’ve got a great deal of open range to fight it first. No houses or herds to have to deal with. The bad news is we have open range. No roads, no breaks.” He didn’t sound upset. His mind had already thought every option through. He’d have to wait until the cards were dealt before he could play the hand.

  Alex stared out at the black cloud on the ground crawling toward them. She looked like she wanted to empty her Colt into the wall of black smoke.

  “One thing you don’t have to worry about.” He fought the urge to touch her. “Looks like it’ll miss your place.”

  “What about your mother, the aunts—”

  He didn’t give her time to make the list of women at his ranch. “They’re all out, and I’ve got the house protected. If it gets all the way to me, I’ll probably lose the old barn my father built, but other than smoke damage, we’ll survive. I knew the women would panic if they saw the wall of smoke coming, so I told them to get out before dawn. They’ve been in town for over an hour.”

  “Your stock?”

  “I’ve got men moving cattle onto your land as we speak. Figured you wouldn’t mind.” He grinned.

  “They’ll eat all my grass.”

  “At least you got grass.” He would have bet that she’d complain. He also bet she wouldn’t care if his cattle ate every blade of her grass.

  Alex reached out and almost touched him. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine. My biggest worry right now is Jeremiah’s place, just beyond mine.” He didn’t say more. He couldn’t. Hank might lose grassland for a season and fence posts, but Jeremiah stood to lose everything. The old man didn’t have enough life left to rebuild.