Army Ranger Redemption (7 page)

“I remember a little about that.”

“Well, I remember a lot. We were forbidden from discussing the case. It was all hush-hush.”

“Maybe the elders didn’t want to frighten the kids on the reservation.”

She snorted. “They scared us all the time with those old stories, mostly to keep us in line. This was different. Any time the older kids talked about the kidnappings, they were shushed. The parents wouldn’t even discuss it. It was all strange, and Granny wanted no part of it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Granny is a more powerful shaman than I am, or at least she was. With children missing, I would’ve thought she’d offer her services to the sheriff’s department, even if they ended up scoffing at her, but she wanted to distance herself from that case.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t even know, but I’d be happy if the case were solved and everyone could put their demons to rest.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to solve the case, Scarlett. I just want to understand my part in it, my father’s part in it.”

As she hung on the door, he stepped into the glow of light on the porch. “Just be careful. I’ll stop by tomorrow to install those new locks for you.”

“After lunch is a good time for me.”

“See you then, and thanks for...everything.”

She watched him disappear into the trees surrounding her cabin and listened for the growl of his Harley’s engine. Then she closed the door and rested her forehead against it.

What was it about this damned case that it kept haunting her, insinuating itself into her life? Now she had an even greater reason for seeing it solved—because Jim Kennedy would never be available until it was.

She banged her head against the door—not that she needed him to be available. She didn’t need a complicated man like Jim in her life. She didn’t need to take care of him or rescue him. She was done rescuing men—most didn’t want it and ended up dragging her down with them, anyway.

She returned to the kitchen, corked the rest of the wine and washed out her glass. If Jim abstained from drinking, maybe he was an alcoholic. Even if he was in recovery, she didn’t want to go down that road again.

After cleaning up, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Despite that second glass of wine, she couldn’t get to sleep. Jim’s story haunted her. How did anyone survive something like that without cracking up? Death had been hanging over his head on a daily basis. No wonder peeling back the bandage on his painful childhood didn’t scare him. What would?

A relationship with someone. She could see that in his eyes, too. She didn’t even need her special powers for that.

A yellow glow peeped in from the curtains, and she looked at the clock radio beside her bed. How long had she been lying awake? The sun did not rise at three in the morning. Even if it did, the cloudy sky rarely allowed it to shine through like this.

She caught her breath and stumbled out of bed, yanking the curtains back from the window.

Her eyes widened at the view—flames danced among the trees outside her cabin, sending a cloud of black smoke into the air.

With her heart pounding, she ran into the living room and grabbed her purse and yanked her phone off the charger. Jim had been right. She needed to make this call now but had to run out to the road to call 911.

She rushed to the front door and threw it open. Tripping to a stop, she smacked a hand over her mouth.

The blaze had spread to the trees in front of the cabin, too. She jumped off the porch and turned in a circle. Fire licked at the entire copse of trees surrounding her place.

She was trapped—and someone had made sure of it.

Chapter Eight

The pounding in his head drove Jim outside. He should’ve never spilled his guts to Scarlett. He needed to keep his demons to himself. He’d seen the horror and the pity in her eyes...and something else. Maybe it was that something else that kept drawing him to her.

As he headed into the clearing around his cabin, he sniffed the air. The acrid smell of smoke permeated the mist.

Tilting his head back, he scanned the dark sky. An orange glow appeared over the top of the tree line—in the direction of Scarlett’s cabin.

He scrambled back inside, grabbed his jacket and keys and jumped onto his bike. The smoke grew thicker and he could see dark clouds of it billowing up to the sky the closer he got to Scarlett’s place.

He roared past her mailbox onto the access road leading to her cabin and stopped well behind the ring of trees that encircled her property. The ring of trees that was burning up like kindling in a fireplace.

The flames could easily jump from the trees to her cabin given their proximity to each other.

Was she even awake? He called 911 on his phone for the second time in three days. The emergency operator assured him that the fire engines would be on their way in minutes.

Scarlett didn’t have minutes.

He edged around the fire to see if he could get in around the side, but the wall of flames continued around her entire property.

How the hell had that happened?

He scoured the ground and found a long stick. Then he covered his head with his leather jacket and beat a path through the fire.

He stumbled into the clearing and dragged in a smoky breath.

As he peered at the front door of the cabin, it burst open and Scarlett appeared on the porch like a ghost, a white T-shirt floating around her.

He yelled, “Scarlett, you need to get out of here.”

“Oh, my God. The fire’s everywhere. I couldn’t breathe outside anymore. How did you get through?”

“Very carefully.” He charged past her into the cabin. “We could use some wet towels. The fire department is on its way.”

She grabbed three towels from the floor and held them up as they dripped water. “I already thought of that. I was going to put these against the doors.”

“We’re going to use them to get through the burning copse instead. As the tree branches burn and break away, it’s actually creating some space.” He grabbed one of the sopping wet towels from her. “Put this over your head. Wrap the other one around your arms. I’ll lead you out.”

“What about you?”

“This wet towel is more than I had coming in. I’ll be fine.”

When they got to the line of fire, Jim draped the towels over Scarlett’s head and face. “Just hang on to me and I’ll get you through the fire.”

He tucked the other towel around her arms and hands and created a tent over his head with the third towel.

Using his stick again, he beat out a swath through the smoldering areas of brush with Scarlett clinging to his back.

They broke free to the clearing just as the fire engines came wailing up the road.

“Move to the road, Scarlett. I’m going to back my bike out of here.”

“What about my car?”

“Leave it. You won’t be able to get it past the fire trucks.”

Scarlett ran toward her mailbox as the first fire truck careened to a stop. It backed up and then rolled up the access road, stirring up the gravel and breaking branches as it squeezed through.

Jim pushed his bike up the road, and Scarlett followed him. A second fire engine rolled onto the scene, followed by a cop car.

Deputy Stevens jumped from the car almost before he parked it.

“Everyone okay? Ambulance on the way.”

Jim squeezed the back of Scarlett’s neck. “How’s your breathing, Scarlett?”

She coughed. “It’s been better.”

“I’m fine. EMTs should see to her first.”

Scarlett pointed to his arm. “You got burned.”

“It’s nothing. Just a few embers hit me. You?”

She brushed her hand down her bare leg below her knee. “Same. Feels like a few hot spots, but nothing major.”

“We’ll let the EMTs decide that.” Stevens jerked his chin toward the oncoming ambulance.

Jim asked, “Is Sheriff Musgrove coming?”

Stevens shook his head. “The sheriff’s out of town today—on business. Let’s get Scarlett to the ambulance.”

Taking Scarlett’s hand, Jim led her to the ambulance and waved at the EMT exiting the vehicle. “She needs assistance. Possible smoke inhalation and burns.”

The EMT opened the back of the ambulance. “Anyone else injured?”

“No.”

Scarlett tugged on his shirt. “Check him out, too.”

“Have a seat, ma’am.”

Scarlett sat inside the van on the edge, while the other EMT pulled out some equipment.

Jim eyed Scarlett’s flimsy T-shirt, now soaking wet from the towels. “Can you get her a blanket?”

Once Scarlett had a blanket draped around her shoulders, Jim touched her knee. “Are you okay here? I’m going to have a look at the fire.”

“Go. Let me know if it reached the cabin. All my work is in there.”

As Jim loped back to the fire engines, he tilted his head back. A helicopter had swooped into the area and dumped its flame retardant material onto the tree line behind Scarlett’s cabin. They wouldn’t want this fire to spread to the rest of the forest.

He approached the firefighter giving orders. “How’s it going? Is the residence safe?”

The fireman tipped back his helmet. “Cabin is safe. We have the fire mostly contained in the front here and the helicopter should take care of the back. We’ll be here for another few hours, though, and investigators are going to want to come in the morning. Do you live in the cabin?”

“My friend does—the woman.”

“Is she okay?”

“Getting treatment now.”

“She should find another place to bunk tonight—or at least for the rest of the morning. She’s not getting back inside for the time being.”

“She can stay at my place down the road. Do you need us for anything?”

“You can leave.” He pointed to Deputy Stevens standing by his patrol car. “Check with the deputy over there so he can get your name and number. The investigators will want to talk to you tomorrow.”

Jim dipped his head and waited until Stevens got off the phone. “I’m going to take Scarlett to my cabin. She doesn’t have her phone or anything, so you can send the arson investigators to me tomorrow when they want to talk to her.”

“Arson?” Stevens pocketed his phone. “Who said anything about arson?”

“I just did. Did you see that fire? It didn’t hop over from the forest. It didn’t start on one side of the cabin and burn in a line. Somebody set fire along the line of trees ringing Scarlett’s cabin. I don’t know if that person wanted this to look like a natural occurrence, but he failed.”

“If that’s true, the investigators will figure it out.” Stevens jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Is Scarlett okay?”

“I’m gonna go find out right now.”

Scarlett hopped off the back of the ambulance when he approached, tugging the blanket around her body. “Did my cabin burn?”

“Nope. Did you notice that helicopter? It’s keeping the flames at bay in the back. The fire chief told me your cabin was safe.”

“Thank God.” She covered her eyes with one hand. “Can I go back inside? I’m assuming I can’t stay.”

“You can’t stay and you can’t go back inside.”

“My purse. I left my purse, my phone—” she plucked the wet T-shirt away from her body “—my clothes.”

“It’s not safe, Scarlett. What did the EMT say?”

“I’m fine. They want to have a look at you.” She held out her arms and the blanket slid to the ground. “They put some ointment on my burns, but they’re not serious.”

One of the EMTs came around from the front of his vehicle. “Sir, we’d like to test your lung capacity and treat your burns.”

Jim shrugged out of his leather jacket. “Here, Scarlett. Put this on and wrap that blanket around your waist.”

Not that he didn’t enjoy the view through the wet T-shirt clinging to her body, but the fire had done nothing to heat up the gray skies and cool temps of the early morning.

Jim followed the EMT’s instructions but stopped short of allowing him to dab ointment on his burns. “I can do that.”

The EMT dropped a sample tube of the burn ointment into Jim’s palm. “You two are lucky you got through the fire line, but you probably could’ve waited it out in the cabin until the fire department arrived.”

Jim jumped off the ambulance. “I don’t like leaving my fate in the hands of others. Any follow-up treatment recommended for Scarlett?”

“Just watch those burns for any signs of infection, take some ibuprofen for the pain, if necessary, and report any breathing problems immediately.”

“That sounds easy enough.” Scarlett joined them, hugging his leather jacket around her body.

Looked a lot better on her than it did on him.

Jim held up the ointment. “Did you get one of these?”

She shook her head, and Jim tossed the tube to her. “Stick that in the pocket of the jacket and let’s get out of here.”

“Not many places I can go looking like this.” She spread her arms wide and the jacket opened. He kept his gaze pinned to her face, even though the wet T-shirt molded to her breasts.

“My place. Didn’t I make that clear before? I’ll take you back to my cabin—as long as you’re not expecting some kind of art gallery like you have.”

She dropped the blanket back inside the ambulance. “I’m expecting a quick shower and a warm bed.”

He couldn’t tell if her red cheeks were a result of embarrassment at what she’d just implied or the lights still spinning on top of the emergency vehicles.

“I’ve got both.” He dragged the keys to his bike out of the pocket of his jeans. “I came over here without a helmet, so hold on tight.”

He swung one leg over his motorcycle and cranked on the engine. Then he tipped the bike to the side for Scarlett to climb on.

She placed one bare foot on the footrest and hoisted herself on top of the bike behind him.

From his position, he had no idea what she looked like on the back of his bike wearing nothing but a knee-length T-shirt and a motorcycle jacket, but the vision he conjured in his head made him hard.

Twisting his head over his shoulder, he shouted, “Hang on.”

Then, as she curled her arms around his waist and pressed her body against his back, he got even harder.

This was gonna be the longest mile of his life.

He aimed his bike down the road, taking it slow, assuring himself it was for safety reasons and not to prolong the sensation of Scarlett wrapped around him, cheek against his back, knees digging into his hips.

He rolled up at his cabin and took the bike around the side. Before he parked it, he leaned it to the left. “Can you get off okay?”

“Yeah.”

The leather of his jacket creaked as she peeled herself away from him and then managed a little hop onto the ground. Her T-shirt hiked up, exposing a flash of her shapely thigh.

He parked the motorcycle and jingled the keys in his hand as he walked to the porch of the cabin. “Shower first?”

“Please.” She fluffed her hair with her hands. “I smell like smoke.”

“Excuse the mess.” He pushed open the front door. “I haven’t done much cleaning up since I got here.”

Folding her arms, she edged into the room, turning her head from side to side. “It’s not too bad.”

“Yeah, biker chic.” He strode to the hallway and plucked a clean towel from the stack in the cupboard. Then he pushed open the bathroom door and hung the towel over the rack. “Do you want a washcloth?”

She came up behind him, framed by the bathroom door. “No, as long as you have some shampoo in there.”

“Generic.”

“I’m not picky.” She tugged at the hem of the still-damp T-shirt.

He made a gun with his fingers, pointing at her. “I can get you a clean T-shirt, maybe a pair of sweats. Anything else of mine you’d be swimming in it.”

“A T-shirt’s fine.”

“Okay, then. I’ll leave you to it.” They did a little dance as he squeezed past her at the door. She did smell smoky...but still sweet.

He closed the door and as she cranked on the shower, he headed for the bedroom. She’d have to sleep in the bedroom he’d been occupying. The other bedroom still had a bunch of junk in it and no sheets on the bed. At least he’d washed his sheets two days ago.

He’d crash on the couch in the living room. He didn’t sleep much, anyway.

His gaze darted around the room, making sure he hadn’t left anything embarrassing out in the open. He smoothed a hand over the bedspread and fluffed the pillow as if he was a preparing a hotel bed for a guest.

He pawed through the T-shirts hanging in his closet and grabbed an extra-long black one so she wouldn’t suspect him of wanting to see any more of her body—which is exactly what he did want.

He shook out the shirt and placed it on the bed. Leaving the bedroom door open, he grabbed a blanket from the closet and dumped it onto the couch.

“Jim?”

“Yeah?” He looked down the short hall.

She’d poked her towel-wrapped head out of the bathroom door. “Do you have that T-shirt?”

“Comin’ right up.” He returned to the bedroom and snatched the shirt from the bed. He tapped on the bathroom door. “Got it.”

She stuck her hand out the door. “Thanks. Can I use the hair dryer in here?”

“Yeah, of course, if it still works. It was my old man’s.” He backed up from the door. “You can sleep in the room across the hall. Bed’s all ready for you.”

The roar of the hair dryer drowned out his words, and he shrugged.

He sat on the edge of the couch and pulled off his boots and then his socks. Had he really been at the sheriff’s station tonight suspected of murdering Rusty? It seemed like a hundred years ago.

Why had someone set that fire? And why not set the whole cabin on fire with Scarlett in it? The singed hair on his arms stood up. He had to convince her to go back to San Francisco, even if that meant moving back in with her ex-boyfriend.

He took off his flannel shirt and pulled his T-shirt over his head. He smelled like smoke, too. He yanked off his jeans and tossed everything in a pile near the fireplace.