Chapter 48
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
The Ranch
The next morning, I took the side-by-side and went for a drive. I wasn’t sure where I was going. But I drove to clear my head. After a night of pleasure in Cas’s arms, I still hadn’t said yes to his marriage proposal.
I loved him. I was having a baby with him. But I just wasn’t ready. I needed more time. My life had changed at a breakneck pace. I wanted a moment to catch my breath.
So I let the sun warm my skin and the air blow through the cab of the vehicle.
Before I knew it, I was at the hill. I got out of the side-by-side and walked to the tree where my mother had carved our initials. I leaned my cheek against the dead bark.
I traced her initials with my finger.
I’d never have a moment with her before my wedding. Where it was just the two of us and she imparted words of wisdom, and then cracked a joke to lighten the mood.
She wouldn’t be there to hold Hadley’s baby. Or mine.
She’d never get to meet Declan or Cas.
But a part of me believed she sent them. She gave Hadley a baby and a man who loved her unconditionally. She gave me a man who was strong enough to handle my obstinance. And she’d given me a baby of my own to ground me. To force me to think about someone other than my own free spirt.
I even believed she sent Jane, so Dad could love again. Laugh again.
Muddy was right.
Everything seemed to work out how it was supposed to. Even when you were in a dark tunnel and there wasn’t even a pin light of hope that you were going in the right direction.
Maybe there were no right directions. Maybe all of life was a series of twists and turns and it was how you handled them that mattered.
I needed to show Hadley the tree. I was ready to share it with her.
A flock of birds flew from the treetops up into the sky. I watched them soar away, but the bright sun marred my vision.
My gaze strayed back to the forest. The brush moved. Rabbits, squirrels, and other rodents began dashing across the ground. One by one beneath the thick forest floor they scrambled in the same direction.
My eyes widened and I looked at the sky again and saw the curtain of white and gray floating up into the clouds.
Smoke.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasped.
Rustling leaves and twigs snapped as I hastily backed away from the tree line. A small herd of deer burst from the forest too fast for me to even jump out of the way, but they missed me as they sprinted away from the smoke.
I turned and ran for the side-by-side, but I wasn’t paying attention. My left foot sank into a hole and I fell over. I braced myself for the fall with my hands and my wrists took the brunt of the impact.
A scream of pain echoed through the air as my right wrist snapped. Tears blurred my vision as I cradled my hand to my chest. I lifted my foot, gasping again when a tremor of pain shot up my leg. My foot was trapped.
I bit down on my lip.
One. Two. Three.
With all my force, I yanked my foot and freed it from the hole. I limped toward the side-by-side, but stopped when I heard a yelp.
It sounded like a wounded dog, crying in fright.
I turned, attempting to locate the source of the noise.
I followed the whimper toward the tree line.
I brushed aside leaves and branches and found a lone red fox kit lying beneath a bush.
One of its back legs was twisted and I could see that it was broken.
I looked around, but saw no others of its kind.
“Come on, baby, we can’t stay here.” I reached down to pick it up. It bared its teeth at me and swatted one of its paws in my direction.
“Hey, I won’t hurt you,” I crooned.
Despite my throbbing wrist and bum ankle, I crouched down to get closer to the wounded animal.
“You won’t survive without me. Please, let me help you.”
Something about my tone must’ve eased the kit’s nerves because it wiggled onto its belly and crawled toward me.
I removed my button-down shirt, grimacing as my wrist protested. I wrapped the kit and cradled it against my chest. It snuggled against my tank top, seeking comfort.
“We got this,” I said, more so for my benefit than for the fox’s.
The scent of smoke teased my nostrils and I prayed the wind wouldn’t shift, bringing the fire closer to our land and the ranch.
I limped my way back to the side-by-side and got the door open. I settled the fox wrapped in my shirt onto my lap and reached for my cell phone resting on the passenger side seat.
But there was no cell service out here and I hadn’t brought a radio.
“Fuck.”
The kit whined.
“Sorry,” I said absently. I lifted my phone in the air and moved it around, but it was no use. Tucked between mountains, there was no chance of service.
I tossed my phone aside, and then cranked the key.
The engine turned over.
And over, and over.
I waited for the roar of the engine to come to life.
The side-by-side made a gurgling noise, and then sputtered to a silent death.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
My heart drummed in a heavy staccato as I hit the dashboard. I tried the engine again, but it refused to start.
“Okay, time for plan B.” I wrenched the door open, grabbed my phone and the kit, and climbed out.
I’d have to walk. Injured and without cell service, carrying a wild animal, with an impending forest fire that could move swiftly through the brush.
As long as the wind doesn’t change.
As long as the wind didn’t change, I would be fine.
I hadn’t taken two steps when the scent of fire grew stronger and thick and nearly blinding smoke engulfed me.
“I’m glad you’re with me,” I said, looking down at the fox wrapped in my shirt.
I put one foot in front of the other, but it was slow going. My wrist throbbed, my ankle twinged, and I could feel a deep, painful bruise forming on my knee.
The wind carried not just smoke, but a drastic shift in temperature, too.
I felt the change from fresh air to warmth on my back as the smoke licked against my skin.
It was a tease of what horror would ensue if I didn’t get clear of the forest soon.
The wind had changed course and I was now in the direct path of the fire.
I looked at my phone again, hoping for a pocket of cell service. But no luck. And my battery was nearly dead because it kept searching for a cell tower.
My throat was dry and my lungs were beginning to sting from smoke inhalation. My energy waned and my pace slowed with every passing minute. My heart thundered in my chest as I was able to see less and less, and the smoke grew thicker and thicker.
I started to cry as fear overtook me. I held the fox kit in my arms and sobbed as I imagined me and my baby not making it out alive.
It all seemed so trivial. My reasons for not accepting Cas’s proposal. What was I afraid of?
A life with Cas was a blessing—and at the moment, not even a given. Because what if I didn’t make it out of this? What if this was the end of my story?
I can’t breathe.
There was a tree on the path and I sat down underneath it to get away from the smoke. A breath of fresh air on the forest floor cleared my head, but I knew I had to move again—or die.
Then I heard the sound of a horse in the distance.
Louder.
Branches began to crack and the thundering of hooves drew closer.
I squinted and saw a figure on a horse through the haze of smoke.
“Hey!” I yelled.
The mount burst through the smoke and relief swirled through me as Cas came into view.
He rode nearly right next to me and slid off the horse with the reins still in his hand. “Salem!”
I scrambled up from my seat, limped toward him, and fell into his arms.
“You’re hurt.”
I nodded. “My right wrist. And my left ankle.”
Cas embraced me and a hissing noise came from the fur ball pressed against me.
“What the hell is that?” Cas asked.
“A fox kit,” I said. “He’s hurt. I couldn’t leave him. How did you know I was out here?”
“Gut feeling.” He swept me into his arms. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.”