Facing the Fire. Gail Barrett

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СКАЧАТЬ and Cade braced his boot against the dashboard to keep from hitting the windshield. They abruptly jerked to a stop.

      The roar of the wildfire filled the forest. The wind whipped the tall flames skyward and curled them high through the trees. Dry branches exploded in brilliant bursts, shooting flames through the crowns.

      “Oh, God,” Jordan breathed.

      Cade frowned. From what he could see through the smoke, the perimeter was completely erratic. Long fingers of flame ran ahead of the front, pushed by the powerful winds. Sparks blew through the billowing smoke and torched spot fires over the road.

      A gust of wind scattered ashes on the Jeep. Flare-ups hissed and snapped beside them.

      “Cade,” Jordan said, her voice unsteady. “What are we going to do?”

      Good question. “We can’t outrun that flame front.” Unless there was a natural barrier ahead that protected the road. And he sure as hell didn’t remember one.

      His shoulder screamed as he reached back for the radio in his PG bag and he blinked against the pain. Maybe someone had reconned the fire from the air and knew if they could make it. The smoke was too thick for him to tell from the ground.

      But then the wind gusted again. The smoke lifted, and he saw the road for himself. It ran straight ahead, right into the path of the fire.

      He glanced at Jordan. Raw fear shone in her eyes. “Can we get out?” she asked, her voice trembling.

      His gut twisted, and he reluctantly shook his head. “Not through that. We’re trapped.”

      Chapter 3

      Trapped? Jordan tore her gaze from Cade and gaped at the inferno raging before her. A fierce roar shook the air. Flames swirled up pines like fiery tornadoes and shot sparks far overhead.

      Fear slammed through her nerves and she stifled a cry. They had to get away. Run! But she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even see where they needed to go.

      Ashes blew across the windshield and the grass beside the Jeep started burning. A towering wall of fire charged toward them while thick, heavy smoke rolled over the road.

      “Turn around,” Cade said over the noise.

      “But the grass is burning!”

      “So back up and then turn around.”

      Of course. Her heart hammering, her breathing shallow, she threw the Jeep into Reverse and hit the gas. They sped back to a wide spot in the road and she slammed on the brakes. The Jeep bucked to a stop, then stalled. “Oh, God.”

      “Take it easy,” Cade said, his voice even. “We’ve got time.”

      Time? With the world around them on fire? She flicked her gaze to Cade. He slumped back in his seat, his head cradled casually against the headrest. How on earth could he stay so calm?

      Her gaze switched to the windshield. The wild flames thundered over the earth, and terror raced through her chest. But Cade was right. This wasn’t the time to panic. She needed to control her fear and get them away from this fire.

      Inhaling deeply, she cranked the engine and spun the wheel, making the Jeep lurch forward. Then she hit the brakes, shoved the gearshift into Reverse and shot back.

      They stopped, and she sucked in another breath. She’d turned the Jeep around. Now she just had to drive away. Her heart still sprinting, she floored the gas pedal. The Jeep fishtailed, straightened and hurtled back up the dirt road.

      They rounded a bend, and she looked in the rearview mirror. The flames disappeared behind the dense stands of fir trees, and she hitched out her breath. They were safe, at least for now. She eased up her foot on the gas.

      Several breaths later, her heart stopped quaking. She pried her fingers from the steering wheel and rearranged her grip. The roar of the fire gradually faded, and her galloping pulse finally slowed.

      But then she heard a soft, high whistle from the backseat. She pulled her foot off the gas and glanced back.

      The dog huddled on the floor behind Cade’s seat, trembling wildly and breathing in thin, reedy gasps. “For goodness’ sake,” she said. He was hyperventilating. She reached back and stroked his soft head, and his worried gaze lifted to hers. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’re okay.”

      At least she hoped so. She glanced at Cade, still slouched calmly in his seat, his booted feet planted on the floorboards. “What are we going to do now?”

      His vibrant blue eyes met hers. “You remember that old logging trail past the cabin?”

      “How could I forget it?” They’d hiked that trail dozens of times to picnic in the meadow by the stream.

      At least they’d intended to picnic. Heat gathered low in her belly, along with a memory as intense as any fire. Of lying in the warm, sunlit grass, Cade’s strong arms holding her tight. His hard face taut, his breathing ragged. His eyes singeing hers.

      His blue eyes narrowed, and she knew he remembered it, too. Her heart thumped hard against her ribs and she yanked her gaze to the road.

      “It might not be open,” he continued, his voice rough. The husky timbre made her shiver. “I couldn’t tell when we were setting up to jump. The timber’s too heavy to see the road from the air.”

      “I guess we can give it a try.”

      “We don’t have a choice. There aren’t any other roads out here.”

      She tried to picture the abandoned road. She remembered long, deep ruts and knee-high weeds, at least in the section they’d hiked. They’d never quite made it past that meadow.

      She cleared her throat. “Do you know where it comes out?”

      “According to the map, it should hook on with another Forest Service road on the other side of the mountain. That’s if we can get through.”

      “And if we can’t?”

      “We’ll figure something out.”

      That remark was so typical of Cade that, despite her fear, the corner of her mouth curved up. “How many times have I heard that line?”

      He lifted his uninjured shoulder, and she marveled again at his calm. He never worried or panicked, even with a forest fire licking his heels. He excelled when things got tough.

      His confidence impressed her, though, and always had. And his strength. Her gaze slid down his corded neck and broad shoulders to those big, callused hands and muscled thighs. He was a tough, capable man, all right, and it had been easy to let him take charge.

      But after he’d left, none of that strength had helped her. Not during the endless nights she’d spent alone. Not when she’d discovered she was pregnant. And especially not on the desperate drive to the hospital or in that cold, white hospital bed.

      Or during the grief-stricken days that followed, when loss turned to desolation.

      A СКАЧАТЬ