Chapter Twenty-Two
The barn was quiet now. There was nothing but a heap of charred rubble and a little smoke left.
It had taken hours to burn down.
Seth hated that he had to let the fires run their course until there was nothing left for him to burn.
He didn’t have a choice. All the way out in the middle of the ranch, there was nothing around.
No ranch hands, either. No help. There was no way he could have saved it.
The most he could do was soak the earth in a wide circle around the barn and pray that the flames wouldn’t skip over the line to rush through the rest of his property, destroying everything he’d built.
He sighed, looking out into the field at his horses.
He’d saved almost all of them, but one horse hadn’t made it… and one of his cows had succumbed, too. Its injuries were far too extensive to treat. He’d had to put both animals down.
He clenched his jaw, fury and sorrow swarming him in equal measure. But the most coherent thought he could formulate came out as cynicism.
As if there isn’t enough to do around here—and now he was going to have to process a whole milk cow so it didn’t spoil.
He kicked angrily at the ashes on the ground in front of him.
The animals were all skittish. He couldn’t blame them. He was skittish himself. Sighing he ran a hand down the back of his neck before walking over to Skip. “Hey there, boy,” he said, as soothingly as he could manage.
First, the loose horse, and now this? A fire?
Whoever was behind this had crossed far too many lines, and Seth intended to find out exactly who it was.
Whoever had done it should thank their lucky stars that it didn’t spread to his house. The smoke still hung heavily in the air, though. He coughed, the wheels in his mind churning.
Turner had been arrested for doing this very thing to Jack’s store. It had to be one of his men. Besides, Turner was the only person that Seth had issues with.
It has to be him.
Seth’s gaze drifted toward the road that led to town, hazy in the distance. Where is June?
She’d said she was getting Henry and Jack, and maybe that was a good idea, but he doubted they’d be able to get any materials down here today to help rebuild. And even if they could, the remains of the barn were too hot to try and tear down without starting another fire.
He sighed. I should get to town myself. Get to the bottom of this. Look Billy Fredricks in the eye and ask him if he had anything to do with this, since Turner was already in jail.
Just the thought of Fredricks’ smug face was enough to spark him into action. No bridles or reins for tying a horse, so he went to the shed in the back and pulled out a length of rope. Then he whistled Skip over, mounted bareback, and rode off to town.
***
By the time he reached the weathered saloon, the midday sun was already high overhead, and the porch was cast in shade. It seemed almost abandoned without Turner around, with the exception of the few drunkards who hung around outside all the time.
Seth dismounted and used the rope he’d brought to tie Skip to the post. Then he stormed across the porch and pushed the door open. He stepped inside, his boots thumping heavily against the wood floor.
Fredricks was one of Turner’s most loyal men. He had to be at the saloon—and sure enough, there he was. Hunched over the bar, nursing a drink.
He turned to look at Seth as soon as he came in, and his face flushed with anger. He seemed to mutter something under his breath, something Seth didn’t quite catch, but the scowl on his face wasn’t lost on Seth in the slightest.
“What do you want?” Fredricks snapped.
Anger rose in Seth’s chest, but he kept it controlled. “Answers,” he shot back harshly. “I’ve had enough of this. First, my horses are let loose, and now there’s a fire in town. If you or Turner had anything to do with it, I suggest you come clean. Now.”
Fredricks straightened, his lip curling in disdain. “Turner didn’t start that fire, and neither did I. But what does it matter? This whole town’s gone to hell in a handbasket.”
“That so?” Seth replied quietly, daring Fredricks to cross a line. He was itching for the man to say something that would give him an excuse to let loose with his anger. “All I’ve seen from Turner is trouble. If he wasn’t behind the fire, who was?”
Fredricks’ eyes darted toward the door of the saloon, but he said nothing. His lips were pursed, and there was a tension in his shoulders that Seth couldn’t place.
Before Seth could press further, the door creaked open, and Hazel stepped inside.
Her hand was loosely linked with a man Seth didn’t recognize.
That in itself wasn’t unusual—she was a saloon girl.
But this seemed a little different. Not only was it the way Fredricks looked at them both and bit the inside of his cheek, but it was the way Hazel looked at Fredricks—almost longingly. Like she cared for the man.
Then Hazel’s eyes met Seth’s, and her eyes widened. “Seth,” she said, looking surprised. “What’s going on here?”
“Someone’s been messing with my ranch,” he said, his eyes flicking to Hazel’s companion. The man was tall and clean-cut and held a look about him that didn’t sit right with Seth. He seemed too proper. Too… quiet. “And now there’s two fires and I want to know what’s goin’ on.”
Hazel’s eyes narrowed, and she released her grip on the man’s hand. “I’m not sure you’ll find your answers here,” she said. “We’re all just trying to survive without Mr. Turner around.”
Seth’s gaze settled on the man at Hazel’s side. What kind of man is gonna let a lady do all the talking?
But the man said nothing. He just stood stiffly, his eyes darting between Seth, Fredricks and Hazel. There was something about the way he shifted his weight, the way his mouth twitched. He looked like he had plenty he could say, but wasn’t willing to.
Seth locked eyes with him, and took a couple of intimidating steps towards him. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice cutting as he looked the man dead square in the face. “Your friend here looks like he might have somethin’ to say.”
Hazel gave a terse laugh, and Seth hesitated for a moment, glancing back at her. There was something close to anxiety in her eyes.
He bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to cause a scene in front of her. He didn’t want to give her, or anyone, the wrong impression here.
He wasn’t jealous. He was a married man, after all, and what had happened between him and Hazel was ancient history. But there was something about the man she was with that he didn’t trust.
He just couldn’t exactly put a finger on it.
“Well…” he grumbled at last. “If y’all have any information on who is messin’ with my ranch, I’d really appreciate you lettin’ me know.” Then he turned on his heel and slammed out the door, anger starting to boil inside.
He clenched his fists as soon as the door shut behind him.
I’m not jealous. He and Hazel were like oil and water from the start. Marrying her would have been a mistake.
No, that wasn’t it at all. But that man—that man knew something. And that could be a lot more dangerous than any petty jealousy.
***
By the time he returned to the barn, the anger had built into a full-blown rant. He found June near the corral, her hands resting on the fence as she watched the horses. “They are calm now,” she mused, but Seth was more interested in giving voice to his pent-up frustration.
“That man Hazel’s with,” he began, his voice sharp and irritated. “There’s something off about him. He’s hiding something, I’m sure of it.”
June turned to face him, her expression something he couldn’t quite place—wariness, maybe? “Hazel’s… boyfriend?”
“Yeah. He looked guilty when I asked about the fire. Like he’s got something to do with it.”
He noticed June’s posture stiffen, and she looked down at her feet. “Maybe he’s just nervous,” she said quietly, looking a little nervous herself.
“It has nothin’ to do with Hazel,” he said, hoping to reassure her that it wasn’t jealousy. “It’s just, that man—”
But June shook her head and looked back off to the house, almost uncomfortably.
“You think I’m jealous,” Seth realized, his tone softer now.
She shook her head immediately. “I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as a pang of guilt went through him.
She shouldn’t have to feel like he was jealous about something that wasn’t part of his life anymore.
“But that’s not it. I’m not jealous. I’m just…
I don’t trust him. And I don’t know how to explain that without it sounding like something it’s not. ”
He really wasn’t jealous.
This wasn’t about jealousy—it was about instinct, the instinct he’d always had with people who turned out to be untrustworthy. Even with June. She had intrigued him from the start. He hadn’t trusted her—and for good reason, turned out. But she wasn’t a bad person.
That man, on the other hand… Well, Seth knew people, and that man was hiding something.
June gave an odd sigh. “I’ll be inside if you need me.”
Seth’s brows furrowed in confusion. What the—?
He watched her walk away, heart sinking as she went.
He’d definitely handled that wrong.
He’d done nothing but push her further away.
***
That night, sleep came slowly. When it did, it brought dreams of a life he’d once wanted, and thought he needed.
Hazel was there. She was truly a beautiful woman. Her hand was in his, and the war didn’t exist.
He was a different man then.
A boy.
A boy who had his parents, and whose life was never torn apart.
He was happy.
But he was still a boy.
They stood together on the ranch. Everything seemed peaceful…
…But as he sat on the porch with his bride, a horse came galloping up the road, carrying a child.
It was a girl. A beautiful little girl, with the most gorgeous chestnut eyes he’d ever seen.
She looked like someone—someone he didn’t know, but someone important, someone who seemed to hold a piece of his heart.
The little girl came to a stop in front of Hazel and clambered off her horse. She walked right up to Hazel, looking confused.
Where’s my ma?
But then Hazel began to cackle; the little girl shied away, clutching at him desperately.
Pa! Pa, where’s Ma?
And suddenly, everything felt hollow.
The world plunged into black.
Except for him—and the little girl.
Then, he remembered her.
June.
The most beautiful woman he had ever known. Her chestnut brown eyes. Her dark hair pulled back in braids. Her creamy white skin, delicate and soft, begging to be touched.
June.
Where is she?
He tried to shout her name—and then the little girl vanished into the darkness, too.
…And he felt like nothing. Like he was nothing. Like he was alive—for nothing.
***
Seth shot up in bed, panting breaths flinging from his lips. His shirt was soaked in sweat.
June.
The dream hadn’t been about Hazel, not really. It had been about what could have been—what he’d thought he wanted before, and then all he wanted.
June.
She wasn’t a dream.
She was more than that.
She was real.
And she was exactly what he needed.