Page 2 of One Wild Texas Night
Jake could feel the heat and hear the roar of the fire and the constant snap and crackle behind them as cedars exploded, consumed by flames.
Sweat ran down his face and back from the fire’s heat. It was the middle of February with warm Texas winds blowing, spreading the fire and fanning the flames. Trees ignited and burned instantly while the dry winter grass fueled the intense fire.
At the fence, he held the dogs closer against his chest and then he jumped the wire. Carrying the pups in a bandanna, Claire slipped between fence strands and caught up with him.
In minutes he had the mother dog and pups in the back of his pickup on a blanket.
“I’ll ride with them,” Claire said, turning to climb into the back. He took her arm, and the minute he touched her, she looked up at him. For an instant he was lost in big, thickly lashed green eyes that made him forget danger, fire, circumstances, everything except his neighbor and worst enemy only inches away with her wide eyes focused on him. A tree crashed and shook him into awareness of his surroundings again.
“She’s fine. Get inside,” he ordered. “Hurry.” He dashed around to get in, starting the engine as she climbed in beside him. He turned his pickup away from the fire that was only yards behind them now. When the wind changed direction, the fire had begun to fan out. The blaze picked up force, and more cedars burst into flames behind them.
She twisted to look back and shivered. “You saved us. If you hadn’t yelled, I wouldn’t have made it out. The dogs wouldn’t have, either.”
Jake glanced in his rearview mirror. Thank heavens he had almost every cedar on his place dug up. Some had gone to businesses and places in town that wanted them. Others had just been cut up for posts or firewood.
He glanced at her; she wrapped her arms around herself as if she trembled. It shocked him that she had been so oblivious to the fire, because she ran her ranch by herself and he’d always thought of her as competent. It also shocked him that he had just saved her life—his biggest enemy. Actually, her family and her no-good brothers were the really bad ones. But she was blood kin to them and had grown up with them, so she was bound to be just like them. Even if it had been her rotten brothers in danger, he couldn’t have gone off and let them burn. He was glad they’d saved the dog and pups, too. He couldn’t have left them, either.
While he drove swiftly away from her property, the pickup bounced roughly. He didn’t care. All he wanted to do was get more distance between them and the fire that was traveling with lightning speed now. He knew how easily they could get trapped in a ring of flames.
“Are you okay?” he asked after a few more minutes when he finally felt he could slow down.
“No. I’m not okay,” she snapped. “I know what I’m losing,” she answered, but he was relieved that her voice was firm, and she didn’t sound on the verge of losing her composure. “I really let down my guard. I made a major mistake by not watching the fire and getting out of there sooner. It really shakes me up when I pull some bonehead stunt running this ranch. This time, if not for you, my mistake would have been my last.”
She looked back over her shoulder. “I’m still worried about the dogs bouncing around back there. They don’t know they’re being rescued.”
“Don’t worry about the dogs. They’ll be fine, and we’re getting them to safety with us. And you did cut it too close, but we all make mistakes. Don’t ever turn your back on a wildfire except to get away from it.”
Her phone buzzed, and she answered. At the same time, he received a call. It took only seconds for his call. When he finished, he saw her call had ended.
“That was the sheriff,” he said. “They’re telling everyone to evacuate this area. I need to get all my hands out,” he said, calling his foreman.
“Just before you appeared, I had the same call from one of the deputies. My place is in the fire’s path. I’ve already told all my people to get out, but I’m checking anyway.” She made a call.
When the fire had started, Jake had had the foresight to get his livestock moved. Now that the wind had shifted out of the north, driving the fire across her ranch and more of his, he was glad he’d done that and relieved his house was far to the east and out of the fire’s path, though some of his acreage was sure to burn.
“I’m sorry you’re taking a direct hit. That fire’s going right across your place.”
She twisted in the seat to look behind her. “I’m going to lose my house and everything in it,” she said so softly he barely heard her, and this time he noticed the waver in her voice. He glanced in his rearview mirror to determine they were leaving the fire behind. Then he slowed and stopped, letting the motor run. She was turned away from him, her shoulders slightly hunched.
“Well, this is a first for more than a century—a Reed and a Blake together without fighting,” he said, more to himself than her. “I’m sorry about your ranch. That’s a tough one,” he said, meaning it. He didn’t like her or her family. He didn’t know her, but he knew her rotten brothers and had fought the older two in schoolyard fights, played against them in football and witnessed their hijinks enough to know he really didn’t like them or their dad.
She turned to look at him and he gazed into those big emerald-green eyes again, with long, dark brown lashes that needed no makeup to be beautiful. That thought shocked him. Her skin was flawless. She was tan from being outside. Her dark red hair was in a thick braid that hung down her back. Her lips were full, red and appealing. Her mouth looked soft, kissable. With a jolt, he realized where his thoughts were going. Of all the women on the earth, this was the one he did not want to find highly appealing or start fantasizing about. Then he remembered the fire and how she was going to lose her home and her belongings.
“I know we’ve been enemies all our lives and have never even said a civil word to each other before, but I’m sorry you’re going to lose your house,” he said, surprised at himself, because he had had some bitter courtroom fights with her over ranch disagreements. “That’s tough.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, looking down and turning her head slightly. “It hurts.” She was silent a moment, and so was he.
“You may not really know much about me,” she said in a low voice and then hesitated. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything else, but then she started again. “Long ago, I lost everything important to me except the ranch,” she said softly. “My maternal grandfather owned the ranch, as you know. My dad and my brothers never liked it, and my grandfather gave it to me. Now I’m going to lose my home, and then all I’ll have is the land and my livestock. Sometimes a person needs more than land and livestock,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, but this has been tough, and I don’t see any improvement looming.”
She ran her fingers lightly across her eyes. He felt sorry for her because her father and brothers never came back to the area, and her mother had died years earlier. She had a sister, but she and Jake’s brother had been a closed chapter since the year they had married and run away. For a moment he thought of the secrets he knew about her family, the ones she didn’t know. And never would know. He wondered if she had friends or anybody who cared about her.
Impulsively he put his arm around her shoulders, the gesture shocking him that he could feel sorry for someone he had disliked for a lifetime. An even bigger shock—she was soft, appealing. He put that out of his mind quickly.
“Sorry. Right now, there’s no easy way to stop that damn fire,” he said. “That’s part of the hazard we face in living out here,” he added. The moment he slipped his arm around her and drew her closer, letting her lean against him, awareness of her shook him. She was soft and smelled sweet in spite of being outside and caring for the dogs. She placed one hand against his chest as if to push him away. Only she didn’t push in the slightest.
She looked up at him, and he felt enveloped in those big green eyes that stopped his breathing and made his heart pound. A silent protest flitted through his thoughts that he couldn’t possibly feel this response to her. He absolutely didn’t want to discover that this was the one woman who could make his heart race just by looking at him. All the common sense, caution, generations of fighting between their families, having little more than a dozen civil words spoken between them in their entire lifetimes and those words they’d said in the past few minutes—it all dissipated when he looked into her eyes. He did not want to feel one iota of attraction to her. But he did. And he was absolutely sure that feeling was mutual.
There was no woman in his life right now, but he needed to get one fast if he was having this kind of reaction to a Blake. They both came from families that hadn’t spoken for generations, over a century of animosity, bitter battles from the tales of early-day relatives. At least his relatives had told him plenty. He knew things she didn’t. From stories handed down, they each had a legacy of feuding families, with hangings, stabbings, shootings, cattle rustling—all kinds of robberies and torn fences. And now, in his own lifetime, there were still secrets. He wondered about her and her life. She was a neighbor who lived a solitary life. He didn’t think she ever went out with anyone or partied or had any social life.
