by Cora Seton
Remembering what she knew about fires, Jo dropped to her knees and crawled, keeping as low to the floor as she could. She knew this building like the back of her own hand. She didn’t need to see—just needed to get to the stalls. Which should be right—
Here.
Her hand hit the corner of the first stall and she felt the reverberation of Priscilla’s hoofs clattering against the door. She wouldn’t need to guide the mare out. All she needed to do was open the door.
Which meant she had to stand up. Jo held her breath and did so, her eyes watering in the acrid smoke. It took two tries to force the bolt open, but as soon as she did, Priscilla flung past Jo and raced for the stable door.
Jo didn’t hesitate. The next stall’s door was off its hinges, but the following one was bolted tight and she struggled to open it, her chest constricted in the heavy smoke, dizzy and light-headed from breathing it in. When she finally got it open, River hesitated, unhappy with the dark conditions. Jo had to feel her way in, keep from being stepped on and slap River’s rear several times to get him going. Luckily he bolted for the door when he got going.
Two more.
A creak above her head made Jo look up. The entire roof was on fire. Conditions were getting dangerous; she had to work fast. Flames crawled up three walls, and if she wasn’t quick, the thick beams supporting the building could give way. She moved as quickly as she could to the next stall, feeling her way, and got that bolt open, too.
“Come on, Bright Star,” she cried. “Time to go.”
Bright Star seemed to agree. She danced and sidestepped a moment before racing past in the right direction, snorting and whinnying in distress.
Only Atlas was left. Lena’s stallion. She could do this.
Jo dropped to her knees and rested a second, winded. Her chest burned. Eyes stung and watered so badly she could barely open them. She knew she had to push forward, but the heat and lack of oxygen were getting to her. She needed to rest.
When her head snapped forward and she nearly fell over, Jo realized she was about to make a deadly mistake. She couldn’t rest. Couldn’t slide into unconsciousness.
Another groan from the timbers above her gave her the impetus she needed to push to her knees, reach up, feel for the bolt on the last door and pull herself up. She tried to slide it open, but unlike the others, this one always caught. You had to push against the door before it moved correctly. Jo leaned into it, pushed against the door—
And screamed as a beam gave way above her, crashed down, glanced off her shoulder and knocked her to the ground.
Jo writhed around in an agony of pain. Her shoulder felt as if it had exploded. She realized it had been knocked out of its socket. Every movement hurt enough to nearly push her into unconsciousness.
Dislocated shoulder. Dislocated shoulder…
Jo tried to remember what she knew of such an injury. She had to shove it back in or she’d be useless; no way she could get the stall open without two hands.
Forcing herself to her knees, wavering there, then forcing herself to her feet, Jo tried to orient herself. She found the nearest solid post, stepped back, turned sideways, braced herself—
And slammed against it with all her might.
Her shoulder popped into place as Jo staggered around, her mouth open but no sound coming out. She sobbed, the pain nearly toppling her again.
Horse. Atlas. She had to get him out. She couldn’t let Lena down; her sister loved that stallion. It meant everything to her.
Where was everyone? Hadn’t they heard her?
As if on cue, a shout came from outside, and Jo blinked, coming to herself.
Looked around her.
Nearly slid to her knees in shock. She was inside an inferno—
Flames crawled over every surface, on all sides, above her, too—as if she inhabited a cinder, the glow and snap and heat everywhere she looked.
No one could help her in here.
Atlas threw himself against the door of his stall, rattling it, bringing Jo back to action. She reached for the bolt. Burned herself. Wrapped her hand in her shirt and tried again, bracing her good shoulder against the door and pushing hard.
It sprung free—just as Atlas slammed his weight against it again—and knocked Jo to the floor. Atlas crashed right over her as he raced toward the stable entrance.
Jo heard a man shout—fought against the darkness closing in on all sides.
Lost.
Hunter was in the back of a cab when his phone buzzed. Finally—it must be Jo, who hadn’t acknowledged his texts that his plane was delayed. Was she pissed? He worried she might be; he’d tried to keep her in the loop, but watching over Marlon had been a full-time job.
He’d finally turned his friend over to the Franks, who’d already started smoothing things over with the Navy. Hunter had no idea how that would play out. He could only hope there’d be leniency for a man with only weeks to go in his term of service.
It wasn’t Jo calling, though; it was Cab, and when he answered, the sheriff was gruff.
“You in town yet?”
“Almost home.”
“Glad to hear you remembered your mission.”
Hunter wondered what bug the man had up his ass. “I remember my mission.”
“Then get home. I just got a call from Two Willows—that ranch you’re supposed to be protecting? There’s a fire there. Thought you’d want to know.”
“Fire?” Hunter dropped the phone. Leaned forward to yell at the cab driver. “Hit the gas. Now! Two Willows is on fire!”
The cabbie hit the gas, throwing Hunter back against the seat, and all he could do was hold on for the last few miles before they reached the ranch.
Hadn’t anyone been keeping watch? What the hell was Brian thinking? He wanted to kick himself for ever leaving Jo, wanted to pound his fists together for having taken a chance and gone after Marlon. But he needed to save his strength. He needed to be ready for whatever came next.
It took forever to reach Two Willows, the country highway twice as long as it had ever been before, but at last they turned the corner into the lane that led to the house. All the lights were on, but he saw no signs of smoke, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The fire must’ve been small.
“Maybe they put it out already,” the cabbie said.
“Wait—”
A flash of orange caught his eye as the cabbie pulled around to the back of the house, slowed to park the truck, then gunned the gas again, swerving onto the track that led to the outbuildings. Was that the barn? No, the stables.
Engulfed in flames.
“Hurry!” But the cabbie already had the pedal to the floor.
There were figures moving around in front of the fire. Female figures. Cass, Alice, Lena—
Where was Jo?
The cabbie brought the car as close as he could to the stables, and Hunter jumped out of the truck before the engine died.
A stallion charged out of the door. Lena lunged to grab it, but it flew past her, nearly knocking her to the dirt.
As Hunter sprinted toward them, Cass shouted, “She’s in there! Jo’s in there!”
Hunter didn’t stop to think. He snatched the robe Alice had wrapped loosely around her shoulders, dashed to a horse trough, where he dunked it under the surface of the water and pulled it out again. He wrapped the soaking cloth around his neck, pulled it up over his nose—and ran straight into the burning stables.
He heard Lena’s shout as he ran by, thought she might’ve reached out to grab him to prevent him from entering, but Hunter moved past her so fast she didn’t stand a chance. Inside, the stables were an inferno, and Hunter knew his chances of finding Jo alive were slim.
That didn’t matter—he had to try. He had to find her; couldn’t leave her in here. As he battered his way through the flames, the rafters overhead groaned and he spared a glance upward, cursing when he took in the woven flames that made up the roof.
“Jo?” He coughed, the smoke choking him throu
gh the cloth he’d wrapped around his face, making his eyes water, making it impossible to see. “Jo!”
He couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the fire. He was risking immolating himself by staying here. It was too late—he’d arrived far too late. Everything was on fire. Soon he’d burn, too.
Something collapsed ahead of him; the wall of one of the horse stalls. He made his way toward it. Jo would’ve come to save the horses. If she was in here, she had to be somewhere nearby.
“Jo!” Where was she?
He stumbled forward a few more feet, knowing that soon the heat, smoke and lack of oxygen would bring him low. He was going to die in here if he didn’t get out soon.
He couldn’t leave without Jo.
He stumbled over something, crashed to his knees, felt around himself, his hands bumping into something lumpy, not quite solid—
Flesh and bone.
“Jo?”
A groan answered him. It had to be her. Hunter didn’t waste any time trying to figure out her condition. He scooped her up, her feminine curves reassuring him he’d found what he was looking for. He had to get her out of here, now. The building was going to come down on them any moment.
Disoriented, Hunter searched for the door in the dim light, through the thick smoke. He couldn’t see anything except flames. He staggered forward not knowing if he was heading in the right direction, trying to rely on instincts that had become confused by the circumstances and his fall.
“Hunter!”
Hunter didn’t answer Lena’s call, he simply followed the sound of her voice gratefully. He had to be close to the exit—nearly outside.
“Hunter, watch out!”
Lena’s warning was almost lost in the bone-grindingly loud sound of the stables collapsing. Hunter threw himself forward, trying to cradle Jo on the way down, but he landed heavily on her, the two of them tumbling from the impact. Behind them, the stables caved in with a crash that shook the ground. Someone screamed. Hunter tried to get up but found he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. His wrists ached as if he’d broken them.
And Jo, on the ground next to him, lay perfectly still.
Chapter Twelve
‡
“I don’t think you’ll do that again,” Amelia said.
As she lay between the crisp, starched sheets of her childhood bed, the sun streaming in a nearby window, Jo gazed at her mother. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed an ashtray, and she stifled the urge to cough, still not wanting to admit what she’d done.
Caught smoking. No one at Two Willows smoked. She was in for it.
“I’m not angry,” her mother went on. “Some lessons you have to learn for yourself. Some infractions have their own punishments.”
“Will I have to stay home from the fair?” she croaked.
Her mother was right; she’d hated the taste of the cigarettes the minute Katie Hemley had handed her one, but she’d gone on smoking it because the other girls had said she couldn’t hang out with them if she didn’t.
“All you Reeds, so high and mighty, barely leaving your ranch,” Katie had said. “If you’re one of us, act like it.”
She’d smoked that cigarette, and she’d smoked three more, even though she realized now everyone else had made their first ones last quite a bit longer. They’d tried to make her sick intentionally. Her mother was right; some transgressions had their own punishments.
Now she’d ruined everything. Her father was coming home from USSOCOM for the weekend and taking them all to the fair. She didn’t want to miss that.
“I’ll never smoke again,” Jo promised. “And I’ll never do anything with those stupid girls again. I’ll stay at home. Forever. I don’t need friends.”
“Just because you chose unwisely once doesn’t mean you should give up on everyone.” Amelia laughed. “I’m sure there are other girls who’ll help you make good choices. And of course you’ll go to the fair. In this family we stick together. No one gets left behind.”
Jo only half heard her. She was looking down at the bed she was tucked into. At the sheets.
Sheets imprinted with hundreds of tiny horses. Sheets she hadn’t slept between since she was eleven.
She wasn’t eleven. She was twenty-one. And her mother—
Her mother was—
Amelia squeezed her hand again. Leaned forward to brush a kiss against Jo’s brow. “Remember, no one gets left behind. I love you. Always.”
“Don’t go,” Jo said. “Mom!” Panic filled her lungs.
“I’ll never be far away. Open your eyes, Jo. It’s time to wake up.”
“Mom—”
Jo opened her eyes. She was lying in bed, between crisp clean sheets, but they were stark white, not dotted with horses. Sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over, holding her hand, staring down with worried eyes, was Cass, not her mother.
“Mom?” Jo whispered.
Cass’s eyes shone with tears. “I’m sorry, honey. She’s not here.”
Jo tried to sit up, but Cass urged her to stay lying down. “I saw her,” Jo said. “She said—she said she loved me.”
“Of course she loves you. She always will.” Cass smoothed Jo’s hair away from her brow. “We all love you.”
Jo looked around. Pushed up on her elbows. “The fire—”
She hadn’t been smoking. That was an old memory. She’d run to the fire—the stables—the horses—
“What about the others?”
“Lena and Alice are fine. The horses all got out. You saved all of them, Jo. Brian’s furious with himself for being fooled by the men whole stole your house. Alice is in the waiting room. Lena’s at home, of course.”
Of course. One of the Reed women always had to be on the ranch. Even at the worst of times they’d follow Amelia’s precedent. Their mother had made that bargain with God to keep the General safe, and despite everything they’d keep it—for her sake.
Jo collapsed back on her pillow with relief, but it was short-lived. Someone had rescued her. Someone strong. Someone—
She scrambled up again. “Hunter—”
Cass pushed her gently down again, arranged the sheets to cover her. “Hunter’s fine, too. I don’t think you’ll have to wait long to see him.”
“I’m fine,” Hunter growled for the third time and pushed away the oxygen mask the nurse was trying to refasten over his mouth and nose. “I don’t need that and I don’t need to be in bed.”
“Doctor’s orders,” the nurse said sternly. She was obviously losing her patience. “You need to rest, and you need to give your lungs a break. You put them through quite a workout.”
The door opened, and Alice poked her head in. “Jo’s awake. She’s doing just fine. I thought you’d want to know.”
Hunter threw off the covers, lurched out of the bed and was out the door before the nurse could stop him. Hardly aware of the hospital gown flapping where its ties were loose behind him, he strode off down the corridor before Alice yelled after him, “Wrong way, sailor.”
She was grinning when he turned on his heel and moved to follow her, and Hunter relaxed a little. Alice wouldn’t smile if Jo was in any danger. When they got to Jo’s room, he waited for Alice to open the door, then pushed past her and crossed to Jo’s bed. Without a thought for her bumps and bruises, he gathered her up in his arms and kissed her.
“Ouch!” She did her best to kiss him back, wincing and laughing.
Hunter pulled back and tried to be gentler. “I thought I’d lost you. When I saw the flames—heard the horses—”
“Not yet. It’ll take more than a burning stable and a couple of unruly horses to get rid of me.”
She looked pale, though. Her hands and feet were wrapped in gauze and her hair singed. There were bandages on several other parts of her, too. She’d taken such a risk saving the horses. He really could have lost her.
Hunter’s chest tightened, and this time he hugged her far more gently. He couldn’t do without this woman, and it left him br
eathless to think he might have had to.
How could he have gone on with his life knowing what he’d lost? No woman had ever touched his heart like she had. He didn’t think he could ever feel about someone else the way he felt about Jo.
He had to let her know that right now. Hospital be damned. Maybe it wasn’t the most romantic setting, but he couldn’t wait another moment.
“I don’t want to get rid of you. I want you with me always. I want to share your life. Jo Reed, will you marry me?”
Jo gaped at him, and Hunter couldn’t blame her. His question must seem to her to come out of nowhere. They’d never discussed marriage at all. But the events of the preceding night had cut through any doubts that tangled in his mind. This was the woman he wanted, and he wanted her now. Forever.
“Say yes,” Alice stage-whispered.
Hunter watched Jo’s gaze rest first on Alice and then Cass before coming back to him. “Yes,” she said hoarsely, cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Hunter pulled her into another embrace and never wanted to let her go. “You won’t regret this. I swear.”
Jo pressed her cheek against his. “I’ve never regretted a minute I’ve spent with you.”
Several days later, Hunter and Brian sat across the kitchen table from Cab Johnson at Two Willows. Max had parked himself by Hunter’s feet. Tabitha sat on top of the refrigerator where Alice liked to perch.
“We got lucky,” Cab told them. “We caught the thieves heading for Bozeman. Idiots were still trailing the house. If they’d ditched it, we would’ve never found them. I don’t know if they planned to sell it or wanted it for a garden shed.”
“Who were they?” Hunter demanded.
“Couple of local small-time criminals from Bozeman. They work as bouncers at a club there and hire their muscle out for other, more lucrative jobs, apparently. Not the sharpest tools in the shed, though. They were paid well to provide a distraction while Ramsey set the fire. They were supposed to take their money, head back to Bozeman and lay low for a while. They got greedy. Took one look at that beautiful little house the two of you were building and decided they could probably sell it for a pretty penny if they carted it off. It slowed them down. Took a bit of work but we got them to talk. They spilled everything they knew. Unfortunately, that’s not much.”